I awoke the next morning at sunrise. That meant I’d only managed a couple hours of sleep, but it would have to do.

  The first thing I did upon waking up was checking my [Status], which confirmed what I had suspected; while sleeping didn’t recover my HP, it did recover my Stamina. I was now back at full fighting condition, which was good because I wasn’t sure what the trek into the palace would bring.

  I climbed out of bed, stretching in the first rays of sunlight, and then washed my face in the small sink that adorned my room. Having drowned the sleep from my eyes, I withdrew to the foot of the bed, where Irinda had laid out my clothes after washing them. It was slightly unnerving that I hadn’t even heard her come in last night to place them down. I must have been more exhausted from the fight than I’d realized.

  Shaking my head, I slipped into the pants and then pulled on my shirt and tucked it loosely into the waistline of the pants, tightening my belt around it all so it held in place. Then I pulled the jerkin on, making note of the fact that it didn’t even have a scratch on it from where the blade had slammed into it during the fight in the alley. That was impressive. Perhaps there was some truth to its description, after all. Just like the rest of my clothing, it carried the faint scent of soap, which meant Irinda had scrubbed it down, too.

  The final piece of my ensemble, the enchanted cloak, was the last thing I adorned myself with. It billowed as I threw it out to the side and then looped the strings around my neck, tying them tightly. Having something tied around my neck was a bit discomforting, so I decided to pick up a pin for it today while I was out. There were a number of things I’d need to purchase for the quest into the palace tonight. Some would be easy to find—like the pin. The others, like lockpicks, might be a tad bit more difficult.

  After stuffing my feet into my boots and grabbing my dagger and some coins, I hurried downstairs. I could have had Irinda serve me in my room, but with plans to deal with Brin set to happen sooner rather than later, I was content to eat my breakfast with the masses that called The Slumbering Drake their second home. It just might give me another look at the bastard.

  Like most days, there were only a few older men strewn throughout the common room, all nursing mugs of steamy liquid—spiced ale if I’d had to make an assumption. I took up a stool at an empty table as one of the serving girls circled around the room.

  “Anything I can get you, deary?” The woman asked. She was slightly older than Irinda, with wrinkles in her forehead and the corners of her eyes. Her hair was already graying, though it still held some of what looked like had once been a dark-brown color.

  “Some breakfast, whatever you have that’s warm. And a cup of whatever the others are drinking,” I answered, motioning around to the other occupants in the room.

  “Coming right up, sweetie,” she said, hurrying away.

  I watched her leave and then turned back to my table, letting my thoughts take over once more.

  Breaking into the palace was going to be a feat upon itself. Hopefully Ophelia was as sneaky as she claimed—and as Aurelion seemed to think she was—because I’d have my hands full keeping myself hidden. Being a Rogue and having increased Sneak skills was nice, but it also wasn’t guaranteed to keep me from being spotted by watchful guards.

  What would have been useful were patrol details. But there wasn’t likely to be a way I could get my hands on those. I didn’t know anyone still active in the palace, and trying to make connections with anyone that might believe me was only likely to end up with me thrown in the dungeons. Sure, it was technically part of the palace, but it wouldn’t give me much freedom to break into my former self’s rooms to snoop.

  I let out a sigh and leaned on my elbows, resting my chin against one of my palms and turning my gaze to the counter where Brin usually sat. His spot was empty today, likely because there wasn’t much of anyone coming in this early in the morning. Perhaps I wouldn’t get another look at him after all.

  Someone started to push open the swinging doors, and I caught sight of a bruised cheek, dark blue building under an eye, and then they immediately retreated. I perked up, my heart jumping in my chest and something tightening in my gut.

  Was that Irinda?

  I pushed up to my feet and crossed the room, pressing a hand against one of the doors slowly. It opened a hand’s length and then another as I peered through the gap and into the back of the inn. As I’d suspected, the doors opened directly into a large open kitchen area, complete with counters, stoves, and even a large table.

  Brin sat at the end of the table, plates circling him, each one stacked with different food. His teeth were pressed into some kind of drumstick, the meat spilling grease down his face and onto his clothes, his eyes closed. He was clearly enjoying the moment.

  Off to the side, a woman stood, her back turned to me. I couldn’t see her face, but the back of her head looked familiar. I was about to cast [Insight], but she turned around, revealing the full length of puffiness that ran up the side of her face.

  Irinda made a shocked noise as her gaze landed on me and she dropped the jug she was holding. It shattered as it slammed into the wooden boards of the floor, sending dark colored ale spilling in every direction at her feet. Some of it splashed on Brin's boots and he made an annoyed noise.

  "Stupid woman," he complained through a mouth full of food as his eyes moved from her to me. "Clean that up. And you, what are you doing here?"

  I stared for a moment, the anger in my gut only growing, as every second his gaze lingered on me added oil to the fire. Before I could think my hand was on the hilt of my dagger, the weight of the weapon a welcome companion to my fury.

  I moved fast—faster than I ever had in this body. My arm rose behind me, thin blade shining in the light of the flickering lanterns that lined the room. I brought it down hard, the blade slammed into flesh as Brin brought his hand up to defend himself.

  A scream ripped from his lips, food and spittle flying out, crashing into my face.

  I drew the dagger back, yanking it from his hand, which began to ooze blood as he pushed back from the table with a jerk.

  "I'll have you killed," Brin hissed, pain etching the lines in his face. He tried not to show it, but I could see it in his eyes. He was scared.

  That tight feeling in my gut clenched harder, my anger a wildfire rushing toward a forest.

  "You can try," I sneered back, grabbing for Irinda's arm. "I'll be taking her now."

  I pulled the younger woman to me, but saw her gaze flick to Brin. When he didn't protest she didn't either.

  "You better run now," Brin warned as he wrapped a cloth around his hand.

  I began to back up slowly, dagger still before me, pulling Irinda along with the other hand.

  "You might have surprised me twice, but I won't sit down and take it a third time. I'm half a mind to make you my next wife." His eyes flicked over my body, his lips tugging into a smile as he drew a small blade of his own. It wasn't quite a sword, but it was larger than my dagger, and thicker, too. "Fancy yourself a gambler?"

  I scoffed, my anger a barely contained roar within my ears. I wanted nothing more than to jab my dagger into his throat. To hear the sound of the wet coughs he'd make as he drowned on his own blood.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "Please," Irinda said next to me, pulling my attention from the man. "We should go before things get worse."

  I let her lead me away, still keeping my dagger extended before me, warding off the garbage staring me down.

  "Bah." Brin called after us. "You can have her. She's useless anyway. But don't you come back here. You aren't welcome anymore."

  *** *** ***

  I kept my dagger out, blood dripping from its tip, until we reached the door to the street outside. Then I wiped it on one of the aprons hanging near the counter and stuffed it back into my belt as Irinda pulled on a dark clock. Then, I followed her outside.

  "You should have let me kill him," I told her as we walked.

  "We have other things we need to worry about," she responded, her voice sounded calmer now, though it still cracked slightly when she spoke. She was scared. Terrified even. She pulled the hood of her cloak tight over her head to hide her face. "We need to go somewhere. Do you have anywhere else we can go?"

  I thought for a moment, watching her face under the shadow of the hood. "Your cousin."

  I didn't wait for her to agree or even to put up a fight. I simply grabbed her by the arm and started walking, tugging her along with me. At first she seemed reluctant to follow, but then she moved with me.

  I led her through the streets toward the docks, pulling her beside me the whole way to Will’s house. I knocked on the door three times before stepping back. Thankfully—probably because of how early it was—he was actually home.

  Will opened the door and took in the scene before him. His mouth fell open slightly at the sight of Irinda’s face, and then he pulled both of us inside, slamming the door behind us.

  “You better have a good explanation for this,” He growled, motioning with one finger toward Irinda, who pulled her hood tighter against her face, as if she could somehow hide the marks clearly painted on her skin.

  “I should? I wasn't the one that let her go to to work for a man like Brin." I told him. “He is the one that did this.”

  “That damned innkeeper?”

  I nodded.

  He grumbled something I couldn’t quite understand, and then shuffled past us and through the curtain that covered one wall of his front room. I settled Irinda onto one of the chairs, letting her rest. Tears welled up at the corner of her eyes when I pulled the hood down to inspect her face, and she stared blankly at the floor.

  When Will returned, he was carrying a wet cloth, which he held out to Irinda. “Let me talk to you,” he said to me after Irinda had taken the cloth.

  I followed him through the curtain and into the next room. Just like the last room, this was one simple, but well decorated. A large bed filled one of the walls, though I didn’t get a chance to look any closer at the rest, as Will grabbed my shoulders and forced me to face him.

  “Tell me what happened.” His voice was low, still like that growl from before. Anger flared in his eyes, waiting for a target to explode upon.

  “I’m not rightly sure, but I know Brin doesn’t treat her well.”

  “She told you this?”

  I nodded.

  “I should have killed that sack of devish long ago,” Will grumbled.

  I knew he was angry, but hearing him say such a swear was a bit surprising. He’d had so much control when we’d fought in the alley. I suppose Irinda’s comments about him taking care of his family were true.

  “She never told me any of this,” he continued. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She knew what I’d do.”

  “Which is?”

  His eyes met mine again and I noticed his fists clenching out of the corner of my eyes.

  “Send him to meet the Seven, obviously.”

  I shook my head. “No, you can’t do that.”

  “Like hells I can’t.” He actually looked surprised by my response.

  “No, I mean you can’t do that just yet. I need to handle it. I promised her I would, and if you go storming in there causing a torrent of chaos, it’s only going to attract more attention toward you. I already hurt him tonight. He won't forget that anytime soon and if he's smart, he'll probably hire some guards for the place. Let me take care of him. I owe him, anyway.”

  He grew silent for several breaths and finally nodded.

  Well, that had been easier than I’d expected. I let the rest of my argument fade since I didn’t need it anymore.

  He must have noticed the look on my face because his anger transitioned to chuckles. “You seem surprised that I’m letting you take control.”

  “A little,” I admitted.

  “I won’t pretend it’s easy, or that I’m not still tempted to go beat his face in, the way he seems to have tried to beat hers. But, you held your own before. I’ll trust you to know what you’re doing.”

  “It’s best for her, too. If you get thrown in the dungeon or executed, she won’t have you to rely on for anything anymore. She said you take care of the family. That’s important.”

  It had been years since I’d had family that I had to worry about. But I knew the feeling, wanting to be the protector. The one that kept everyone safe and cozy. Will wasn’t afraid to be violent, but everything I knew about him so far said that he had very good reasons for being the man he was.

  Will nodded in agreement and then turned back to the curtain separating the two rooms. “I should check on her.”

  “Yeah, I think that would mean a lot. Before you go, though…”

  *** *** ***

  I left Will’s and headed back into the Eastern Quarter, letting the buildings of the docks fade behind me. He’d pointed me toward a merchant that he trusted not only to keep things quiet, but also to give me a fair price. In the meantime, he’d make sure Irinda stayed safe.

  Before I left, he’d also mentioned something about keeping an eye out for ‘wanted’ posters, as he’d heard talk about some witnesses to the events surrounding the shipmaster’s death. He wasn’t sure how much the guards might know, but it was probably best to keep my face hidden and to draw as little attention to myself as possible.

  Extremely easy to do when you’re planning to kill and replace the owner of an established business and infiltrate the palace of the only living Empress on the planet in the same month. Luckily, it was unlikely anyone would care about the former, at least not as long as I did it quietly.

  I rolled my shoulders as I walked, the hood of the cloak tucked up around my face. It didn’t take me long to travel from Will’s to the old building that he’d told me to look out for.

  The building in question was a lot more rundown than those that surrounded it, and it had a hanging sign above the door that had a broken anvil and a hammer painted on both sides. I glanced around the street, but nobody seemed to be paying much attention to me, and then slipped inside.

  The interior of the shop was much nicer than the outside, though it did look more like a rundown secondhand merchant than a well-known establishment for fencing goods. I ignored the troves of random baubles and other items that lined shelf after shelf along the wall, instead making my way to the back of the front room, where a skinny man with tiny glasses sat behind the counter.

  “Welcome to Ovali’s.” His voice was deadpan and completely uninterested as he flipped another page in the large tome he held in his lap. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking to get my hands on some new keys,” I said, repeating what Will had advised me to say.

  The man’s attention seemed to snap to me as he processed the words. He slammed the tome shut and looked me up and down through the small spectacles that sat on the end of his nose.

  “New keys, you say? Well, that is something we can absolutely help with.” He hopped down from the stool, his head dropped to well below my chest—almost completely hidden by the height of the counter—and then vanished through a curtain that covered a doorway into the back of the shop.

  He returned a few moments later and laid out several metal lockpicks in varying sizes. “Any size key you’re looking for specifically, my new friend?”

  I eyed the offerings and picked out a few. I couldn’t quite remember what the locks in the palace were like—I’d never needed to worry about it all that much—so it would be smart to have a few different options. He counted up the pieces and then looked up at me again.

  “20 Silver, and don’t you try to negotiate, now. Ovali don’t do no negotiating. You take the price you’re offered or you get out.”

  I cracked a smile in his direction and withdrew 20 Silver from my coin purse. I’d expected the lockpicks to be somewhat expensive, so I wasn’t that surprised that he wanted such an exorbitant amount of coin for them.

  I passed the coin his way, then scooped up the lockpicks, depositing them in the pocket of my pants. I wasn’t sure where I found the next words out of my mouth, but they just seemed to pop into my head, and for some reason I knew he’d understand exactly what I was asking for.

  “Don’t suppose you have any satchels that would be the perfect size for a would-be assessor of expensive goods, now do you?”

  “Do I?” His mouth twisted into a smile and he vanished through the curtain once more. This time when he returned he was carrying a small satchel with a top that latched closed with a buckle. “Best that money can buy,” he assured me, setting it down on the counter.

  I looked it over. It wasn’t exceptionally large, but that was perfect for what I needed. I just needed a place to store my lockpicks and other important items—like the potions that Irinda had purchased for me—where they wouldn’t draw attention or stick out like the lockpicks did when pressed into my pocket. It looked well made, at least as best I could tell.

  “How much?”

  “For you, Ovali give a special price—30 Silver.”

  I grimaced. “30, huh?”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Only 30. Worth much more, I promise.”

  I doubted that. But, since I needed a satchel, and Will had paid me a nice amount, I pulled 30 Silver from my coin purse and pressed it onto the counter.

  He quickly counted the money, scooped up the coins, and then shoved the satchel over to me. “Very good doing business with you. You need anything else, you trust Ovali, okay?”

  “Sure,” I responded, a bit unsure how to feel. Was he rushing me out of the shop?

  Either way, I took the hint, slung the satchel over my shoulder—its black outer coloring and black strap worked perfectly with my darker clothing—and made my way back out into the street and toward Aurelion’s warehouse.