Funny thing about gangs, trusting them was a surefire way to find yourself dead.

  There were categories that determined our value to the Four-Winged-Doves. Categories Iona pretended to ignore when dealing with the dumb-fucks at the bottom. It's embarrassing how easy it was for the ants to pledge their loyalty when Iona deigned to acknowledge their presence.

  Fucking idiots didn't think they'd used as fodder for the greedy cow that was war, each seeing themselves as special.

  I wasn't free of that, but to be fair, but I was a mother-fucking mage.

  There was a chasm between their value and mine. That was the easiest example of categorization. There were bruisers and brokers and enforcers and whatever the fuck else. Didn't matter to me how they organized themselves when I could show off a bit of glass and have them groveling at my feet.

  Was that why she sent me to do this bullshit? A lesson in keeping myself humble?

  I didn't pretend to know the woman's thoughts, but it sounded plausible. The bitch was irritating with how her offerings of wisdom often ended up being right.

  I let out a sigh and climbed up the stairs, getting closer to the exclusive section with each step I took. I was already lamenting this meeting, couldn't she have gotten someone else to do it? Surely Kogan would love to slobber over a celebrity's cock.

  Or Yren, she was a pretty good talker, got an overflow of charisma alongside her ridiculous weight magic. But no, this wasn't a task that needed a sycophant or measured words, so here I was with this bullshit duty sitting on my lap.

  I grumbled and made it to the top floor, a few of the waiters gave a cursory glance in my direction before going back to their jobs. I scanned the room, looking for some jackass in inconspicuous clothing, and was rewarded by the sight of a man...dressed to the fucking nines.

  The fuck?

  I squinted just to make sure. Yep, that was the guy. Apparently he wasn't capable of following basic bitch instructions. This was going to be a pain.

  I sighed for perhaps the hundredth time today, stopping next to Rhode with a scowl.

  "Why hello there, you fanciful fuck," I grumbled. "Was the idea of the masses not fawning at your feet too daunting to entertain?"

  Rhode turned to give me a cheeky grin. "Oh, nothing so boorish as that. I've simply never dealt with the gangs before, considering your kind are scum and all that. I'd prefer people knew I was here rather than not, in case you did something silly."

  "If we wanted you dead, then you would be," I returned his grin with a sharp one devoid of mirth.

  "Lovely!" Rhode chuckled. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, miss....Thea? You'll have to forgive me, I know little of the Dove's mages."

  I rolled my eyes and pulled up the seat across from him, resting my feet on the table. "You guessed correctly, blue-blood."

  "No need for any of that! I haven't had the privilege of a noble in quite a few years," He said, looking just a bit offended.

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  I scoffed, that was a monumental load of bullshit.

  I decided that informing the shit-head would prolong this interaction much further than it needed to be...though this whole thing might've been pointless now.

  I let out a sigh. "It was really fucking important that people didn't know you came down here, so that news doesn't reach that beastly fuck back at your guild. This whole thing's probably going to go belly up now."

  "Oh?" Rhode raised a brow. "And why would you want to keep this a secret from precious old Loklan?"

  I stared at the ceiling, wondering if I couldn't just leave and tell Iona to take the hunter's deal. More likely to come out with something at least. But no, I wasn't the one who made important decisions like that. A responsibility I was happy not to have. Most of the time.

  I grumbled and set my feet to the floor, fetching the letter from my sash to place it on the table. I slid it over to the dickhead across from me. He raised a brow and picked it up gingerly, being surprisingly delicate with the parchment as he unfolded it.

  He spent a while reading the damn thing, without a single reaction from his stupidly perfect face to entertain me.

  "Hmmm, I didn't expect him to be so...well informed," Rhode mused as he set the letter down. "Interesting."

  I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling.

  It was made of rather plain looking wood, if one didn't have a distinguishing eye then they wouldn't be capable of recognizing the Elder Wood. Not...a rarity, kind of. They weren't a species so much as a category. Something about mana density and age made them exceptionally durable.

  It was a finite resource though, tracked and recorded much like elves.

  Most people wouldn't give a shit about cutting them down, but the first Caeser created a mandate protecting them from being harvested, and every Caeser after saw fit to enforce the ruling. Though there were some exceptions, like a few guild buildings.

  The hunters, merchants, and delvers all got the privilege because they did plenty for the empire.

  Pointless, considering the benefits of Elder Wood weren't worth the hassle.

  Perhaps some fancy metaphor could be made and twisted and applied to my current situation? I didn't trust the gangs, but I did trust that they acted in their best interest. There was going to be a war in Anik, and everyone who mattered could tell.

  The Doves were the greatest gang in the city, but dynamics had changed and gangs had been eradicated from less than full blown conflict. Always started the same, two of the fuckers would prod each other until one of them drew blood. Then the others would close in like starving hounds.

  Any help they could get was violently seized upon, so my offer was more than likely to succeed. Hunters working as petty mercenaries during said wars was depressingly common after all.

  Disgraced nobles however? Even if they were shunned, they still held the name. It took a lot for a House to completely strike a fool from their lineage. Bunch of bureaucratic nonsense, I assumed most preferred assassination over the hassle.

  Rhode wasn't someone who would die so easily.

  So he got to keep his name, even if he hadn't stepped foot in the estate in the years since his banishment. Meant his actions were still tied to his family, which was all well and good considering he was the best hunter in the city.

  Didn't mean much to the citizenry, but the magistrate did love their dick swinging competitions. If only they knew of his depravity.

  So there was nothing he could offer the Doves, not unless the gang was willing to face the wrath of the army.

  That was what I assumed at least.

  News of him visiting the Smiling Dragon had me both disappointed and confused, but I wasn't so naive as to think my plan had any chance of happening now. Iona had no reason to contact the fire mage. None at all; yet she did, and all I could do was to lament as the perfect opportunity slipped through my fingers. I let out a sigh and grumbled. Of course the bastard would get the benefit of a warning, why not? My luck was too good to be true when I found Yir sitting across from Aira, assigned as her apprentice of all things.

  For once, it looked like fate had given me a break, only for it to be snatched away for whatever reason the old mage decided.

  "Gonna have to leave the city now," I grumbled to the ceiling. "Staying here is too much of a risk. Hopefully the idiot follows us and I can get someone else to help with killing him."

  I nodded, that sounded like a decent enough plan, if a little half baked.

  Then a voice that was impossibly smooth entered my ears, like if soap could be applied to vocal chords. I could practically see the smile behind it as she spoke somehow with both softness and rugged charm.

  "I think not."