CH821 · Rewrite
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Chapter 821: A Meeting

“My lord, your guest is here,” said the maid, pulling the curtain aside and leaning through.

“Send him in.” Otto Luoxi pressed a silver royal into the bar girl’s palm. “I need a private moment with him. I’ll call for you later.”

“Yes, my lord!”

The man who entered removed his hood and swept the room with a practiced eye. “Is this the covert place you mentioned? If I hadn’t seen the Luoxi guards outside, I’d have thought I’d come to the wrong address.”

“It isn’t easy these days to get time with you.” Otto grinned. “I had to take precautions.”

The guest was Hill Fawkes — a member of the emissary delegation who had, by the Kingdom of Dawn’s official account, “betrayed the King of Dawn, murdered guards and knights, and fled the City of Glow with a handful of fallen minions.” Since Yorko’s secret departure, Appen Moya had made his fury the kingdom’s public property: a blatant provocation, a contempt of the Kingdom of Dawn, a witch’s hand behind his father’s death, and his absolute refusal to suffer such evil within his domain.

Otto knew rather more than the official account. While Appen’s men hunted for the witches, a separate company of knights had been dispatched to run down every member of the emissary delegation — every member except Yorko, who could be killed on sight, particularly the witches who had dared to conspire with a neighboring crown. Investigations spread through the City of Glow. Denise, the businesswoman who had been so close to the ambassador, was summoned to the palace for questioning several times. Hill and the others who had stayed voluntarily as contacts simply vanished.

Otto heard nothing from Hill until a few months later, when the incident had receded from public conversation.

This was their first meeting since the delegation’s departure.

“Something to drink?” Otto patted the cushion beside him. “I imagine you don’t get many chances at comfort these days.”

Hill didn’t sit. He moved to the window and checked the alley below. “We’re on the second floor. Where is the path you mentioned in the letter?”

Otto — eldest son of the Luoxis — sighed, rose, and lifted a panel beneath the couch, revealing the passage underneath. “Slide down, you arrive at the back garden. There’s a hidden door and a dry well. Your choice.”

“No one else knows this route?”

“Both the garden and the tavern belong to my family.” He shrugged. “Sir Yorko always called you a fox. I see what he meant — still careful as ever.”

“If I weren’t,” Hill said, “I’d be hanging from a gallows by now.” He drew a coin from his pocket and dropped it into the shaft, listening until the sound died. Then he closed the panel. “For the future — write me an encrypted letter. Meeting like this isn’t safe.”

“An encrypted letter carries its own risks. If anything from the palace leaks, King Appen will suspect our families.” Otto exhaled. “He’s no longer the friend who used to tell me everything.”

Hill raised his eyebrows, neither agreeing nor denying. “Does the King of Dawn have any new plan?”

“He intends to strike the Church of Hermes. Revenge for his father.” Otto recounted what he’d heard at court — the ministers’ objections, the king’s refusal to yield, the grain levies already underway in the City of Glow. “When the snow clears after the Months of Demons, he moves. The royal knightage alongside Duke Carb’s forces from the Western Field.”

“No wonder porridge has gone up a bronze royal…” Hill rubbed his chin. “The Kingdom of Dawn’s stores can absorb that, at least. In Graycastle, you don’t levy grain during the Months of Demons unless you want riots.” He was quiet for a moment. “What’s the state of Hermes?”

Otto knew why he asked. The battle on Coldwind Ridge had been reported as a Church defeat, yet both sides had withdrawn to their own territory afterward. The ministers’ consensus: the Church had suffered, but not collapsed. If it had truly been routed, Roland Wimbledon would have marched on the Holy City and stripped centuries of accumulated wealth from its coffers.

Perhaps Appen had been deeply impressed by the God’s Punishment Warriors the Pure Witches brought. He had dispatched more scouts but held back from further commitment.

If he had since changed that calculation, something new had reached him.

Whether it was grief for his father or hunger for the spoils of a weakened foe — that distinction mattered less than the fact of it.

“His Majesty hasn’t shared details. But the merchants returning from the west speak of refugees appearing in the old Holy City.”

“Refugees.” Hill nodded slowly. “I’ll report that to Neverwinter.”

“There’s one more thing.” Otto hesitated. “At last month’s court meeting, the Minister of Foreign Affairs raised the subject of Graycastle. His argument was that Roland Wimbledon cannot be counted a legitimate ruler — no formal enthronement, never resided in the palace. And many nobles in Graycastle, especially in the Eastern Region, openly oppose him. Since Roland broke the alliance, the Kingdom of Dawn ought to view him as a threat to be contained. The suggestion was to support those nobles against Wimbledon’s rule.”

Hill’s expression sharpened. “What did the King of Dawn say?”

“He didn’t respond immediately. But his face — he was interested.”

Otto turned his glass in his hands and said nothing for a moment.

He wasn’t certain why he shared these things with Hill. With Roland. Looking at the shape of events, the gap between Graycastle and Dawn was widening, and his loyalty should have run in one direction only — toward Appen Moya, toward the family the Luoxis had served for generations.

But he could not bring himself to accept what Appen had become. Killing all witches meant killing Andrea Quinn, who was nothing like the monsters Appen described. He had argued this distinction many times — witches versus the Pure Witches of the Church — and been ignored every time.

Appen no longer regarded him as a confidant.

And Otto, though he still addressed the king as Your Majesty, found the word had hollowed.

He had turned this over for a long time. Perhaps what it came down to was that he had seen Andrea in Neverwinter — free, unbothered, alive — and he wanted that to remain true. For that to remain true, Roland’s rule had to hold.

“I understand,” Hill said, his voice dropping. “Don’t worry. That plan won’t come to anything.”

Otto nodded and let the silence settle. Then, more quietly: “Can you tell me how Miss Quinn is doing these days?”

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