Theo frowned, draining the remainder of his cup. The wine was beginning to taste sour on his tongue. He glanced around, taking in the sight of Xander with a pretty woman on his lap. She was giggling as Xander stroked her cheek, leaning in close to whisper. At least one of them was having fun. He shouldn't have felt anything close to jealousy, considering that same woman had tried to sit in his lap earlier. He'd turned her away, turned all of them away, actually.

There were at least twenty of them in the room, all pretty, all showing off generous curves. A musician sat in the corner, strumming a harp, creating the soft sound of background music. Several servants milled about, waiting to be needed. Torin's friends joked and laughed, some sitting at a card table gambling, others daring each other into more and more risky behavior.

"What's the matter, princeling?" Torin called from across the room as he led one of the prettier ladies in a scandalous dance, more touching than dancing. "Are the women not to your liking? Or do you need more wine?"

"I think I need some air, actually," he groused, setting his goblet on a nearby table and striding from the parlor. He passed Amil and Fallon on his way out. They sat side by side, deep in conversation, but looked up at him as he passed. Idris was...who knew where he was. Parties weren't usually his thing, anyway.

He strode through the covered hallway and out into the open corridor beyond. The corridor ran the perimeter of a large, square courtyard with a fountain in the center. It was a mild afternoon, the weather warm, and the keep fairly calm, save for the occasional passing servant.

It was easier to breathe out here—easier to clear his head.

A movement across the courtyard caught his gaze. Three women slipped along the corridor. One of them glanced in his direction and quickly whispered something to the others before the three of them disappeared through a door. The hairs at the nape of his neck prickled.

He frowned, grabbing the arm of a servant passing by. "You there, a moment."

The man stopped and turned. "Your Highness?"

"Those women there, the ones that just went inside. One of them was wearing a veil to conceal her face. Who was that?"

The servant made a point of looking in their direction, then shrugged. "I'm afraid I didn't see them, Your Highness."

He eyed the servant. The man was lying. "All right. Then tell me, which of the ladies visiting this keep walk around veiled." He'd seen plenty of ladies this week, milling around the keep, or attending the lord's dinners, but none of them had covered their faces.

Something was amiss. His dragon's prey drive kicked in. He'd gone nearly a week without hunting. The beast inside was feeling restless at the thought of stalking this woman. A desire that surprised him.

He chalked it up to curiosity.

"I am afraid I cannot say who it might be, Your Highness. Some fathers require their daughters to be veiled, in order to keep certain...men from tempting their virtue."

Theo snorted. He would have chastised the servant but, the dragon in him was too awake now. He stepped back from the servant and strode off, rounding the corner and slipping through the door he'd seen the women disappear through.

The light winked out and he was thrust into a dimly lit hallway. He strode down, noticing the closed doors. When he reached the end, he found a stairway leading both up and down. He decided to go up. He thought he caught a slip of a gown disappearing around the corner. He took off at a jog, rounded the corner—

And nothing.

He stood, breathing, listening. There wasn't a single sound. He waited that way for a minute, five, ten?

"There you are."

"Gods, Idris." He spun around to see Idris giving him curious look.

"Got some intel. You might want to hear it."

"If it's not about that infuriating rebel, then no."

"It is."

"Good." He gave the corridor one final glance, then shrugged and gave up. The dragon in him snorted, then set its head back on its forearms to snooze some more until needed.

"You want to explain what you're doing up here?"

"Thought I saw something...a pretty lady, perhaps? Wanted to chase her."

Idris laughed. "I'd say you were lying, except that sounds exactly like you. Come on. Let's go gather up the others." As they walked, he added, "How was your party?"

"Fine."

"Right. Let me guess, you couldn't enjoy it because a certain Lady Mask was on your mind."

"If you think I spend every waking moment thinking about her then you'd be...right." What was the point in lying?

"She really got under your scales, didn't she?"

He scoffed. "I want her captured, and handed over to Lord Lasker. The sooner the better. The little lordling can't throw a decent party to save his life and I'm sick of it here."

Idris eyed him for a moment, and it was clear that his friend knew he was full of it. Still, Idris didn't call him out on it or force him to be truthful. He just shrugged.

After they rounded up the others, they met in his chambers. Xander was the only one who looked peeved to have been pulled away. "This better be good," he complained, plopping down on the sofa near the empty grate. It was too warm for a fire in the middle of the day. Even with the breeze coming off the lake, it was the middle of summer, and too warm.

Idris took his time in sitting down next to Fallon. Amil stayed standing, leaning against the mantle, arms crossed, obvious interest writ across his features. Theo sat down next to Xander and elbowed him. "Cheer up, friend, I'm going to throw you a much better party when we return. You can have two women in your lap if you please."

"You'd better," the drengr groused.

"I've been chasing a few leads over the past few days and I think I got something. She's smart, this Lady Mask. Her people intentionally planted false information. But I think I got something." Idris grinned, looking pleased with himself as he brushed back a long lock of his sandy colored hair. "I think their next attempt is going to be tonight, on one of the lord's sawmills."

Theo perked up. "You're certain? Tell me what you found."

Idris launched into the details, explaining how he'd spent the last two days taking the information Fallon had found and cross checking it with his own, following leads throughout the city, taking advantage of desperate children who could be paid to listen to adult conversations.

"Sounds like the best lead we've got," Amil decided. "We can be ready to thwart them this evening. Theo, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

Theo rubbed his neck. "We stick to the original plan. We capture their leader. They'd not dare move against the lord of Woodport with her under his thumb."

"They appear to adore her. They wouldn't want to risk her life if she's captured," Fallon mused.

"Exactly. Once she's in his hands, he can use her to force the rebels into submission." Theo sat up straighter, eager to carry out the plan. Eager to get his hands on this frustrating woman who had given him a thorough tongue lashing. Perhaps once he handed her over, she wouldn't be so smug. Perhaps then, he might get her out of his head.

With only a few hours left until nightfall, they jumped into preparations immediately. They spoke with Lord Lasker, getting information about the sawmill, and making sure his guards there would be aware of all they had planned. He didn't know this Lady Mask very well, but he knew she'd want to make a point with this strike. She'd warned Lord Lasker that if he didn't give in to her demands, her operatives would continue to lash out. This would be her first attack since that warning was issued. She'd make it memorable—or, try to.

All throughout dinner, he was consumed. He imagined everything playing out, imagined being the one to scoop her up and restrain her. To be the one to clap irons on her wrists.

His insides quivered with eager anticipation when he thought of pulling her mask free, finally getting to see her face. Maybe he wouldn't return her to Lord Lasker immediately. In fact, the more he thought on it, the more reluctant he was to just...hand her over to him. Winning her felt like it ought to be a prize, and handing her over felt like getting nothing in return for all his hard work.

He found himself frowning at his dinner goblet as the thought played out. Maybe he'd steal a kiss beforehand. That would drive her to fury, and he liked that idea, making her angry. He'd capture her lips before she could push him away. His skin tightened, gooseflesh rising up along his arms. Except, when she'd open her eyes afterward, it would be that same ice cold gaze that she'd given him before. The same look that made him feel small. He didn't like that, didn't like the way she'd made him feel, the way his stomach squirmed at the thought of disappointing her.

Perhaps he didn't want to disappoint her. Perhaps deep down—secretly, because he'd never admit it—he wanted to please her. To win her approval.

No. He pushed the traitorous thought away. What in the name of the gods was wrong with him?

He needed to get this over and done, so he could return to the capital. Return to the sorts of women who appreciated him for who he was. The ones that didn't feel any need or desire to change him. They were already willing, ready to throw themselves at his feet. She would never do such a thing, this Lady Mask. She had made it clear with her cutting words.

His stomach tightened. He glanced down at his half-eaten plate of food and decided he was no longer hungry. "I would never fall for a man like you. We could be the last people alive in Dragonwall and I still wouldn't want you. Ever." Her words had replayed in his mind a thousand times after they'd met. He hated that everything she'd said had grown roots and latched onto his thoughts.

"I think I've had my fill for the evening," he said to his companions, before looking at Lord Lasker and thanking him for dinner. "I'm going to get some fresh air. I'll see you in my chambers later," he added to the others.

They watched him go. He hadn't expected Fallon to follow him out. He was climbing the stairs to walk along the keep's battlements when his companion caught up with him. "I know you said you wanted air, but I hope you won't mind my joining you."

He shrugged. "It's fine."

They walked along in silence for a while until Fallon said, "If you decide at any point tonight, to change your mind, none of us will hold it against you."

He frowned, turning to face Fallon in the darkness. "Why would I?" Except he knew what Fallon had already seen. What he'd denied. That perhaps there was something more going on with this rebellion. Or perhaps there was something more going on with his strange feelings towards this Lady Mask person.

"You might find, when it's time to capture her, that you don't want to. Or, that you do not wish to hand her over to Lord Lasker. I certainly wouldn't want to hand a woman over to him."

"She's a rebel—their leader."

Fallon merely shrugged. "I'm just saying. We stick to the plan, but if you change your mind, your shields are with you."

Theo's gut tugged. This wasn't the first time they'd called themselves his shields, even if they technically weren't...yet. The thought of it made this feel more real. Made him feel the weight of his responsibility when he didn't want to.

He clenched his teeth, then began walking. "We stick to the plan."

"As you say," Fallon agreed. There was no judgement in his voice. No scorn or disappointment. He almost wanted to weep with relief. And yet, he felt a keen emptiness deep in his chest. A desire for someone to challenge him, even if he hated the thought. It made little sense, so he pushed it away and readied himself for what was to come tonight. 

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