“That’s how you make hard-boiled eggs and toast, Ashy,” Melissa said so sweetly I could just puke. So I smiled at her.

  “Thank you so much, Missy. You’ll make an excellent sister-in-law. I look forward to learning more from you,” I replied, bowing my head.

  Melissa’s face went neutral and blank for a moment before returning to its prim, proper smile. “And I’d be happy to have you here—just ourselves, or when my husband is around.”

  “Even without you, then?” I needled back.

  “Of course. You are his beloved sister—and nothing more,” she shot.

  We stared at each other, then laughed. “Flora’s sake, Missy, I don’t even like him like that. What is your problem?”

  “I don’t know—maybe when I tried to reach out, you actively wished I was out of business?”

  “To be fair, you did bully me in school...”

  “No! None of that!” Melissa’s voice cracked, but there was just fatigue in her tone. “Life isn’t a ledger where you owe someone something every time, Ashy! Every tick becomes resolved with a tack and then—what do you know—the whole world goes blind.”

  “Easy for you to—”

  “Ashy. My mom—my single mom—is a [Master Weaver] of a small town. Your pa and ma were basically just a [Farmer] and [House Wife]. The only person in this town doing well is Adrian—everyone else is just as poor as you are.”

  I stared at Melissa, who shook her head. “Like, I don’t know why Adrian never tells you no or sets his boundaries, or why you don’t either, but... do you honestly believe as adults there’s this entire conspiracy to get you? Here’s the truth: no one cares about you—or me. So the one person I have who makes me feel like a worthwhile person to be around just happens to be your best friend.”

  She leaned against the kitchen counter, away from the pork roast. She had been baking a pie as it started. She pulled out a drawer and showed me two tightly packed rolls.

  “Do you smoke? Tobacco,” she said, offering me one.

  I shook my head and took it. “Never tried—couldn’t aff—”

  “My ma never could either, but I found ways,” Melissa finished for me. “Look, Ashley, I don’t have to be your friend, but I don’t want to constantly worry that my husband is going to be killed—not ‘stolen,’ in your case—by the crazy redhead who couldn’t spit out her words.”

  I glared at her, but she had already brought her own roll to her lips. Her finger sparked a small [Flame]—probably from her ranks in [Chef]—and she drew on the edge to let it catch.

  “I’m not going after Adrian,” I repeated.

  “You threw a glass mug at his head, and the only reason you’re not fined or in jail is because he likes you too much. You’re getting away with assaulting an officer of the law since he has a crush on you. What’s next—murder?” she summed up.

  I sighed, leaned beside her, rolled the cigarette, then handed it back. “Look, we’re just...” The words caught in my throat.

  “Friends, you fucking loser. Amaril’s sake, this is why no one liked you in school,” Melissa scoffed.

  “...Fine, friends. I’m not interested in him!” I said, but Melissa didn’t look my way.

  “Yeah, I know your type—heaven knows I liked it too. I never acted on it, regardless of what the rumors say. You’re looking for someone much taller, more ‘masculine,’ and who knows how to treat a firecracker, right? The thing about those types of people, Ashy, is they burn.”

  I stared forward. “And what, Addy doesn’t burn? He constantl—”

  “Do you know why he isn’t just going to you after learning his ‘lesson’? Of course not. Talking to you is like talking to a rose—pretty, I guess, but filled with thorns. There’d be a new thorn after the first one, and another, and another. Me? At least I can tell him he’s annoying me without hiding it under years of resentment and ‘he should have known.’”

  We said nothing for a moment as Melissa inhaled another lungful of tobacco.

  “Look, Missy—”

  “Amaril’s sake, stop calling me that. We don’t like each other. I’m only calling you Ashy since Adrian wanted me to get along. But want to know a secret?”

  “I’m not sure I d—”

  “After we get married, the three of us—Adrian, Ma, and I—are going to move to the capital. He’s only here for Elora’s blessing, and it’s just the Enemy’s bad luck that you’re here too. Maybe you’d show up to the capital to bother Adrian like you always do, but I’m less worried about a yearly trip than a constant source of aggravation.”

  “So you’re moving after you get married? Does Jasmine know?”

  “Not yet. I didn’t want to drop that on her head, or she’d start chitter-chattering away on how I should take her with me, and how Adrian could pay for her expenses, and she’d keep me company and the house clea—”

  “...And you don’t want that?”

  That made Melissa pause and take another deep breath. She was so thin and lithe it was like I could see the smoke in her ribs.

  “Everything here reminds me about being poor. I love Jasmine to death, but she’d ruin everything with the lords. Woman can’t keep her mouth shut. Did you know she keeps telling Addy and me that her lord, Elias, is a vampire—for Amaril’s sake.”

  I jolted and looked at her face. “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah, she’s weird. Elias has been out in the sun, and Addy doesn’t think he is,” she said offhand, then waved it off. “Not about her. This is about us. Focus, Ashley.”

  I glared at her again—that was an important tidbit. Yet she was half right. I sighed and copied one of Jasmine’s moves. Everything felt odd as I raised my arm... and slung it over Melissa’s shoulder. The woman was warm to the touch, but so bony and jagged. Melissa instinctively shivered, but didn’t pull away.

  “Amaril’s sake, I really do need to make you new clothes. How the hell are you so cold? Do you want a blanket or som—” She stopped when she realized I was staring at her. “I’m sorry, Missy. Could we try to be friends?”

  That stopped her. Hell, it stopped me, as she stared into my eyes with utter confusion.

  “I—err... I...” she began.

  “Elora’s lace... I only dreamed of this moment, but to see it actually coming true?” Adrian’s voice rang out as his head peeked in. It must have been a different view from his perspective—to see his wife and best friend “hugging.”

  Melissa’s confusion broke first; she flicked her cigarette at him. “Alright, that’s enough of that, you pervert. Not even in her dreams.” She slipped from my grasp and moved toward her husband. “I’ll... consider it, Ashley, dependi— And no, it’s not for whatever you’re thinking, ‘Lord Skye.’”

  “I was thinkin’ you two were becomin’ friends?”

  “Not even in her dreams,” Melissa repeated, releasing Adrian and walking toward the living room.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  The dining room was large, and the table was actual finished wood. There was a tablecloth, and the candles set in the center were very, very pretty. I sighed and took a seat on the long edge. Adrian took the seat opposite, and Melissa was busy moving things from the kitchen into the dining room.

  It was the first time in a while Addy cooked me dinner, and he kept glancing at me. I took a sip of water before finally staring him down. “What do you wan’? You lookin’ like a hog salivating at slop now.”

  “I ain’t no hog, and I ain’t lookin’ at slop, Ashy. I’m just surprised you’re wearing it,” he said. I glanced down at the emerald necklace.

  “Aye? I think a fairy given’ it to me. Left a pretty little letter, too,” I said, letting my hand rest atop the emerald. “Thanks, Addy.”

  “Don’t mention it—like, at all. I forgot I bought you that years ago. Wasn’t expectin’ you to find it. I barely remembered it existed, and I don’t need that kind of heartache in my life with Missy. Do a guy a solid, sis?”

  “I reckon I can do that, yeah. Iiiif—” Addy slumped, defeated. “...iiif you tell me if I need a blight cure.”

  “A what cu— Is that missy little [Witch] fillin’ your head with straight nonsense, Ashy?” He huffed. “Ain’t no blight around here.”

  “She might’ve tried to sell me an antidote for my crops, yeah. Was wonderin’ if the Inquisition knew anything about it—or how I keep my crop safe so I don’t need to spend gold on blight remover?”

  Adrian looked down, then shook his head. “Blight’s hard to trace. You know how [Criminal] classes work, right? Rhyvesta, the Enemy, gives them a thing called [Veil] that doesn’t let others see their actual jobs. Worse than that, it hides their actions—it’s why kids are told not to carry so much money in their pouches. A [Pickpocket] can [Mark] them without them ever knowin’, and then, you know—[Steal]—before the kid even gets a chance to know what’s up.”

  “I see... What does that have to do with my crops?”

  “If your stuff is actually blighted, it can’t just be found by an inspection. Us [Paladin] types eventually learn how to [Veil Break], but that requires a lot of knowledge and power... and only works on people. For crops, we’d need an [Agronomist], and they mostly work in the capital. Best they’d do is confirm there is a blight.”

  “How about who caused it?”

  “There ain’t no blight goin’ on, Ashy—I’d know. But who? That’s even harder—can’t be found by confirm’n a blight. If it was that simple, wouldn’t need the Ordo-Inquisitis. Lots of legwork and narrowin’ down the roots... So, you said that [Witch] was tryin’ to sell you blight remover?”

  “Uh-huh, but I don’t think she meant nothin’ by it. She seems more like a crooked saleswoman than a bad person, Addy.”

  He grimaced. “She’s a bad person, Ashy. I know you don’t like bein’ told nothin’, but, for your own sake, stay away from her.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, farmboy. So I don’t need blight remover?”

  “Nah, I reckon you don’t—and besides, most of that is snake oil anyway. Blight removal needs the Church to remove Rhyvesta’s gaze.”

  “Good Protector, Adrian. You’ve been in here ten minutes with her, and you’re already throwin’ the Enemy’s name like it ain’t nothin’,” Melissa scolded, rubbing Adrian’s head playfully. “Keep your work talk off my dinner table, dear. None of us are being cursed by the Deceiver.”

  “Sorry, Missy,” Adrian teased, then leaned up and kissed her cheek. Melissa giggled, and my stomach turned.

  “Okay, how does the Church remove... the Enemy’s gaze?” I asked, looking at Melissa pointedly. She made the sign of Amaril and brought out the pie.

  Adrian leaned back, smiling as he scratched his head. “So, Rhy—The Enemy is only able to do Arcane. Arcane, if you don’t kno—”

  “Yes, yes—Arcane manipulates, Divine creates. I’ve read Albion Bell’s Divine Command as well.”

  “You have? What’d you think of it? I’ve been tryin’ to get Melissa to read it, but she finds it too den—” His tone (and mine) slipped from rustic into academic. My accent stayed farm-girl, but Adrian dropped his country roots to talk like a capital man.

  “It’s interesting, for sure. Kind of makes me wish I was blessed by any of them—would make the crops go faster. Flora knows I’d love it.”

  “Nah, Ashy. You’d have to give up a good portion of yourself to do it. Listenin’ to Flora’s mandates and considerin’ Amaril’s will all the time is... well, it works for me, since Amaril’s code and mine are basically the same. But for a girl like you? You’re too smart and clever to be hosed down by somethin’ like that.”

  I blushed, watching his dull brown eyes. “T-thank you, Addy?”

  “Huh? I just told you you weren’t a good fit for Divine magic. Dunno why you’re thankin’ me.”

  “I... see. But how does that help—if Rhy— the Enemy—is only able to do Arcane, you can’t pray to them?”

  “Her. Rhyvesta is a her.” He looked around for Melissa, then sighed in relief. “No, you can’t pray to her. She bestows her favor on you whether you like it or not. But anyway—since she can’t create and only manipulates, you can override blight with a sanctification. Pain in the ass, takes a while, but burns it away.”

  “So, can my farmboy sanctify my fields?” I asked, before realizing what I was asking. That’d kill my livelihood. I swallowed, wishing I hadn’t asked and he’d say no.

  “Normally, nah. But I was a [Farmer] before, Ashy! I can do it if you need it, but I don’t think you need it. Like I said—there’s no blight.”

  I took a sip of water as Melissa sat down... beside me, of all people. I glanced at her, and she smiled.

  The air felt tense—at least to me—so I blurted the first thing in my head. “Hey, Addy”—this time, Melissa cringed at the nickname—“is Elias a vampire?”

  He stopped carving the pork and glared at Melissa, who gave him a pained smile. He sighed. “Honestly? Yes,” Adrian admitted, looking at Melissa and then at me.

  “What?!” we both said at the same time, though I suspected for different reasons. I already knew he was—I just didn’t know he’d hired Jasmine. I guessed Melissa didn’t know, but knew he was Jasmine’s boss.

  Same feeling, then? Did we both care for our annoying friend?

  “I’m sorry, Lord Skye, but... a vampire? I thought you said I had nothing to worry about,” Melissa retorted as Adrian cut the pork and served me—the guest—first, with sides. I wanted to look down at the food, but this was too exciting.

  He groaned and carved more for his wife as well, then kissed her forehead. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Missy—and stop callin’ me Lord Skye whenever you’re mad at my work.”

  “I thought you told me to call you Lord Skye or Inquisitor Skye when I was being questioned?” I said, and Melissa snickered.

  “Unbelievable. You’re both teaming up against me.” He pouted, then served himself last. “Elias is likely a vampire, but being a vampire isn’t a crime in itself.”

  “I’m sorry?” Melissa stared, wide-eyed.

  “Law’s about action, not who they are. I can’t just execute an orc that wanders in here because they’re an orc, Melissa. They’d have to actually do something. Like vampires.”

  “He drinks blood!”

  “I mean—if he pays his servants to do it, it’s technically legal?” Adrian countered, sheepish.

  “I’m sorry—what are you even telling me? Because he pays his workers, he’s allowed to drain their blood?” Melissa shouted.

  “Yeah? It’s in their contract. I don’t think Jasmine read it, but it is there.”

  “And the Church allows it?” Melissa pressed.

  “Oh, Amaril no. But where the Church’s law ends is where the Queen’s law begins. And as far as the Queen is concerned, they signed it, it’s legal, and while completely unethical to Amaril’s law, he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “Besides drink blood.”

  “Of people who willingly get paid for it.”

  “If I paid you a silver coin to beat you half to death, it doesn’t make it right.”

  “To the Queen it does, Missy,” he said, and Melissa opened her mouth again.

  “Addy doesn’t like it either, Missy. He’s just not willing to go against the law,” I muttered. Melissa looked at me—eyes a bit too wild for my liking—but I saw Adrian give a sigh of relief.

  Melissa took a breath. “I... see. So you know he’s a criminal, but because he pays his taxes and his workers, he can do whatever he wants?”

  “Yeah. If anything, Ashley is the only criminal in this room,” Adrian tried to joke.

  “Excuse me?!” Melissa said on my behalf. “Sure, she’s a proper nutter and kind of crude, but a criminal?”

  “Right back at you, Missy,” I said, rolling my eyes and poking at the pork.

  “Well, yeah—she has a debt of 1,000 gold, and she’s basically squatting in a house that belongs to the Crown. But I am glad she’s using her savings—though you should’ve put some of that down to help your debt...”

  “Using my savings?”

  “Well, Jasmine told us you bought nine seed makers from her at cost—so that’s 3 gold each. The farmers’ market says you only really sell common carrots, but knowing you, it’s probably ’cause you planned and made an accounting ledger and worked out how to maximize profits from selling high-quality carrots, right, Ashy?”

  “...Something like that.”

  “So it’s only been a few days—like five—since you were back. The only way you got 30 gold was by using some of your old savings,” he said. He meant the 100 gold he’d given me—the one I hadn’t touched. It disturbed me how much he was tracking; his obsession with me was going to be a severe hindrance.

  “I’m glad you noticed, Addy. Sorry for being difficult...” I “apologized.”

  “Think nothin’ of it, Ashy. You were just starvin’ and mad. Anyone would be if they were dealt your hand.”

  “But I’m worse than a vampire?”

  “You don’t pay your taxes, Ashy,” Melissa teased, patting my arm. She turned to Adrian. “Please tell me you have a plan to get Jasmine out of there?”

  “...I thought the plan was that she was coming with us to be our house maid when we moved to the capital?”

  “Oh—right—about that, dear...” Melissa began, but I started tuning them out.

  To the eyes of the law, I was worse than a vampire, but I couldn’t ask anything else of Adrian now; the conversation had moved on. The rest of the dinner was pleasant, and for once Melissa and I seemed to be getting along. She even packed me leftovers as a treat.

  I would have to get them something actually nice when I was back on my feet.