“—He, or they, as it might be, go by the name of Dire Wolf. They’ve been a plague on my caravans, raiding and plundering without mercy.”
“Why do you suspect there’s more than one?”
“There may be a single head to the spider, but it has many arms,” he said, voice hushed. “I have reason to believe the lower class protects them. Rumors hint the Wolf shares its spoils with the destitute.”
Well, that wasn’t so bad. “What aid do you seek from me?”
“You carry a unique influence among the commoners,” he remarked, tilting his head to flash a smile. “They adore you, their ‘Chosen of the Gods.’ I only ask that you make discreet inquiries, using your status to glean insights. Nothing overly perilous, I assure you.”
“Why should I?” I smirked. “I hail from the slums, Master Hinyte. I understand hardship and the value of a kind gesture, be it a bit of coin or loaf of bread.”
“Consider this a service,” he offered, gesturing to himself. “I’d owe you, and it’s time you forged alliances in the high court, Princess.”
I snickered at that. “But you claimed you’re not a true noble.”
“I also mentioned how every noble seeks my favor,” he countered, arching a brow in challenge.
My eyes narrowed, a faint grin pulling at my lip. Oh, how I missed haggling with vendors in the ports!
When I wasn’t stealing from them, of course.
“You would ask my help to catch a thief? If the common folk are protecting the Wolf, wouldn’t I betray their trust by exposing him? I risk losing their support.”
“Merchants are common folk too, you know. They are the backbone, the lifeblood of any realm. Can a kingdom thrive without commerce? You can’t redistribute wealth entirely to the needy without reinvesting some to fuel the economy. Otherwise, you deplete resources without replenishment. It would be a kingdom’s downfall.”
This man was a bargainer.
He leaned closer and continued, “I’m not asking for military intervention, dear princess. Just keep me informed. My people are hard workers, toiling day and night to scrape by, only to have some rogue thief rob them blind to feed the idle, those too lazy to step up and earn an honest living.”
With a shake of my head, I laughed and offered a half-hearted shrug. “I’m a bit chilled, Master Hinyte. I should return to the festivities.”
“Of course. It would be my pleasure to escort you.”
His hand settled on my thigh, eliciting a wary glance from me as Sainte shifted.
“Will you consider my proposal?” he asked.
“I hope you know I have a great many things to think about.”
“I can only imagine.”
He stood, offering his assistance. I accepted it eagerly, rising beside him. He placed my hand on the crook of his elbow, enveloping my cool fingers within his warm palm and sturdy arm.
Our exchange was amiable, as if we were old friends bantering for the fun of it. I appreciated his company and his straightforwardness—a rarity among the nobility who often relied on deceit and schemes to maintain their status.
We made our way back to the ballroom, our conversation intermittent. Sainte trailed behind, his presence silent and unwavering, much like it had been throughout the evening.
Anderz whisked me away as soon as I entered. His golden eyes exchanged a lingering glance with Leihim’s before the latter nodded in acknowledgement.
I followed the counselor’s lead as we traversed various circles through the crowd, nodding politely. I maintained a quiet demeanor, doing my best to avoid appearing rude.
Leihim had not commented on my accent or my somewhat broken High Wynterian. He seemed indifferent to such details. If he truly lacked noble birth, he would have grown up with a distinct Wynterian dialect, which should have been detectable in his speech.
My gaze wandered around the room, pondering what social circles he frequented. According to him, nobles were at his beck and call, eager to curry favor. One would expect him to be surrounded by aristocrats.
My stomach dropped when I found him.
Adastrus curled lifeless fingers around Leihim’s shoulder, drawing him in for a rough embrace. When my brother peered my way, his lips spread into a sinister grin.
