Heir of Cinders [FADING EMBERS #1] - ON HOLD

15.1 - Unwelcome Interlude

Fealtanis could feel some part of his soul floating out of his body the moment his eyes set upon the thick paperwork which Mira had slammed onto his desk. Fifty four possible mission contracts in total within the yildean provinces- all of them, he speculated, connected to matters of the royal court. The thought made him cringe. It was one thing to have a ton of paperwork to read, but it was another thing to have politics involved in it.

He wished that Nadrien hadn't suddenly dragged Mira off to disperse a fight which occurred between Michael and Magni. Feal could've certainly used her commentary to help him get through the reports faster. Despite her boisterous nature, her presence had always been oddly soothing. He liked the warmth her body radiated whenever she was close to him and the silken softness of her blonde hair whenever they brushed against his skin. Even the slightly pungent odor that seemed to trail her was a familiar comfort to him, though he was usually one to be repelled by the scent of alcohol.

The thought of her always stirred some conflict within him. He always told himself that the only reason he wanted her around was as an outlet for his suffering, as a set of ears to listen to him. Yet deep inside, a part of him knew that he was merely trying to deceive himself. Deep inside, he desired more.

Her voice, soft as the west wind, echoed in his head. No matter how awful and distracting those creatures were, Mira would still grant him sanctuary. In those grim hours, Mira was his beacon of hope. Her words helped him drown away the sinister whispers of the pale lady and the roars of the nightmare.

A part of Feal dared to hope that her uncharacteristic gentleness suggested romantic intentions, though he had his doubts. Aerhyans weren't the kind to suggest anything.

He snapped away from these intrusive thoughts to focus on his work.

He picked up the first report, which was a commission from a high noble from the Fifth House to murder a certain minor noble lord which he never even heard of. A small smirk tugged at his lips. To think that a house specialized in stealth- of all things- required outside help to murder a lowly noble!

He quickly set the paper aside the moment he saw that the commissioner only proposed five hundred golden picas. This Lord Celdermir was either stingy or clueless about the way they worked.

Definitely both, he decided.

His hands then pulled the second report from the pile, a commission from Lord Civarion of the Fourth House to eliminate the leader of a notorious group of bandits that had been plaguing Volanster. A promising offer, but the handwriting of the patriarch of the Fourth House hurt his eyes. By the grace of the stars, is this man supposed to be a lord or an aerhyan soldier? Feal thought, wrinkling his nose. He dropped the offer once he decided to spare his eyes from further torture.

The next report was more peculiar in nature, written by a rich merchant living in the outskirts of Grusverth who promised a hefty payment of one thousand gold picas. Once Feal saw those numbers, he was pretty close to sealing the deal until he saw who the target of the mission was: Lady Eoserah of the Sixth House, and as far as he knew, the sole sane member of her house. He thrust the paper aside. Although that Great House kept a low profile and a limited amount of political power, Lady Eoserah's support of his plans could prove to be useful. To murder her for gold would be a folly on his part.

Feal continued his routine. He didn't bother to spend much time on the reports' details, instead focusing on the prices and motives behind each contract. He found it morbidly amusing that people would have so many reasons to have someone killed, from a desperate bid for power, to a malicious attempt for revenge, and some childish love stories slipped in between the two. The ones concerning the court situations only served to sully his mood further, so he made an attempt to avoid them.