𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘 | 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔, 𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔

♕

The room at the Devil Tavern was cozy, a low fire burning in the grate. The Merry Thieves were sprawled all about on the battered furniture: Christopher and Thomas on the old chesterfield sofa, James in an armchair, and Matthew in a seat at the round wooden table.

Everyone was hailing Christopher as a hero for having created the antidote to the Mandikhor poison—a tale made even more romantic by the fact that Christopher had been stricken down and healed himself. 

James had taken off his jacket, which had several burn holes in it, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. The three had all done what they could to clean up when they arrived at the tavern, but there was still soot on his collar, and in Matthew's and Cordelia's hair, and the kingfisher-blue dress was, Dahlia suspected, utterly ruined.

Matthew was turning a glass in his hand, looking thoughtfully at the pale amber contents.

"Matthew, you should really drink some water," said Christopher. "Alcohol won't help with the dehydration after you inhaled all that smoke."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. Christopher seemed undeterred.

"Water is the devil's brew," said Matthew.

"That is why you are always dyspeptic, Math." said James. His expression was unreadable. 

Footsteps sounded on the steps and Lucie burst in, nearly staggering under the weight of a pile of clothes: two suits for James and Matthew, and a plain cotton dress for Cordelia.

She was greeted with a round of applause. "We have got to start keeping spare clothes at the Devil for such occurrences as this," James had said.

"There had better not be any more occurrences such as this," Matthew had glowered.

"Well I told you lot this ages ago, but I did have some suits hidden somewhere in the couches." Dahlia protested.

Lucie dumped the clothes into her brother's lap and glared at him. "I cannot believe," she said, "that you burned down Blackthorn Manor without me!"

"But you weren't around, Luce," James protested. "You went to see Uncle Jem."

"It's true," Lucie said. "I just wish I had been with you. I never liked the manor when we were growing up. Besides, I've always wanted to burn down a house."

"I assure you," said James, "that it is overrated."

Lucie plucked the dress from James's lap and gestured for Cordelia to follow her into the adjoining bedroom. 

Dahlia picked up a glass of champagne. "You have lost your minds." she declared, plopping down on the couch next to Christopher.

James looked about ready to protest.

Matthew sipped his brandy, "Well James has, yes. I believe all the excitement has made him quiet rash." 

James slapped Matthew's head.

"I still cannot believe you burned down a house," Thomas said, toasting James.

"Most of you never saw inside that house," said Lucie, perching herself on the edge of the sofa, near Jame, having returned with Cordelia. "I peeked in the windows when I was a little girl. All the rooms full of dry rot and blackbeetles, and the clocks all stopped at twenty to nine. No one will think it burned down for any reason save neglect."

"Is that what we're claiming?" asked Christopher. "To the Enclave, I mean. There is the meeting tomorrow to consider."

James templed his fingers under his chin. The bracelet on his right wrist gleamed. "I should be willing to confess to what I did, but I wish to leave Matthew and Cordelia out of it, and I cannot speak of the reason I went in the first place. It would be breaking my promise to Grace."