He'd never admit how much it thrilled him.

That empowering sensation, extracting information from those pathetic men holding more power than he did, and doing it completely on his terms. All he had to do was play his part as the charming, wide-eyed, young lord everyone who didn't know him considered him to be, humouring their dirty fantasies and then immediately stopping as soon as he'd gotten what he wanted.

Frey removed his shirt and dropped it on the pile with the rest of his clothes. He was completely naked aside from his stockings, but Lord Carrigan liked it that way.

"Lady Richter is not the kind of person to slip up easily," he said as he hoisted himself up on the writing desk and leaned back, pulling his knees up to rest his entire body on the cold surface. "How likely is it that whatever you've heard would be enough for her to forfeit her land?"

"It concerns her new husband actually." Lord Carrigan sat further away in a comfortable armchair, gaze fixed on Frey's shins. The latter rubbed his knees together with a taunting smile.

"Oh? Has her husband been up to some mischief?" He cocked an eyebrow as he ran a hand along his inner thigh, halting briefly to squeeze part of it, and the corner of Carrigan's mouth twitched. "Are you perhaps not the only family man engaging in scandalous activities?"

"You of all people know very well I'm not." Carrigan's breath had grown heavier as he leaned forward. "Now, spread them."

Frey's arrogant smile remained, and he parted his legs just a little to allow the smallest glimpse.

"How about you tell me a little about her husband first?"

Carrigan narrowed his eyes, crow's feet looking more pronounced that way. Frey was reluctant to admit he'd aged well over the years he'd known him, with hair just beginning to grey here and there and light stubble to emphasise a triangular jaw.

"Beg for it, and I might be generous enough."

"Oh, is that how we're doing it this—"

"Now."

Frey let out a soft breath, pretending to be reluctant about it. In any other case he'd rather be caught dead than begging for something, but at least Carrigan knew it was just an act.

"Please, Lord Carrigan," he said, his voice soft and hoarse as he leaned back. "I want to know, so. Bad."

"Do what I told you first."

Releasing a breath, Frey slowly separated his legs and welcomed the heat blooming in his cheeks, not to mention other parts.

He then gazed up at the other lord expectantly.

"Is that better?" he asked softly, and Carrigan smiled, seemingly more than pleased with the view.

"Much." He made a light gesture at Frey's exposed parts. "Now start using your hand."

"What is this impatience about?" Frey frowned, still playfully, as he looked around the room, pretending to be concerned. "You're not expecting other company, are you? And you haven't actually told me anything yet."

"Do it."

A scowl, and Frey promptly put his knees together again.

"Not until you talk, my dear Lord."

The two shared a stubborn look, but Carrigan finally gave in with an eye roll.

"It turns out her husband isn't the high ranking officer they said he was." He still held his gaze on Frey's knees, and in all honesty the latter wouldn't object to the lack of eye contact. "Apparently she found him in The Entrails."

"Really?" Frey's eyes widened, a smile forming on his lips as he was finally getting somewhere. "Just how down on his luck was he?"

"Your legs, Lord Clausson."

Frey exaggerated a sigh before obediently spreading his legs again, moving his hand along the smoothness of his inner thigh and up towards the more intimate area.

Carrigan sat in silence, just staring at Frey's exposed body with a look of impatience.

"Unusually eager today it seems." Frey's smile was unwavering, but he would've loved to wrinkle his nose at the moment. Not that he was too surprised. He didn't expect much class from men like him. All lords he'd met with during night hours before were the same; high class and a befitting arrogance to match, but regrettably pathetic. The only one who knew how to use gossip to its full potential was Carrigan. If there was one person other than Frey not to speak carelessly around, it was him.

Nevertheless, Frey considered him pathetic as well. Not that he'd say it directly to his face.

So he moved his hand further over his delicate skin, revelling in the sensation, and begrudgingly locking eyes with the man in front of him despite how much he hated it. Then he began stroking himself, letting out a soft groan as pleasure washed over him.

"He was very much down on his luck," Lord Carrigan thankfully continued as he unbuttoned his breeches. "It appears he spent a lot of time around those bloodsucking lifelikes."

Frey knitted his eyebrows at this, trying to focus through the blur and intense pounding in his chest. He knew society was torn on whether or not vampires were safe to have around, but did they automatically cause a dent in someone's reputation?

"S—So...?" He let out an exaggerated moan, rolling his hips forward every time his hand pulled back. "... What does that mean?"

"Apparently he sold his blood." Lord Carrigan was touching himself too, panting as he kept staring at Frey's movements. "Letting them get their teeth all over him just to get by."

"Well, that certainly is something one would want to keep hidden." Frey raised a hand to his soft lips, letting his tongue swirl around his fingers slowly to soak them with saliva. "And they're already married too."

"Why someone of her status would bother with filth like him is truly beyond me." Carrigan shook his head, not letting his gaze falter for a moment as Frey moved his hand down again.

Even further down.

"Perhaps she thought her business was going well enough that she was above the burden of her... Reputation." Frey shuddered as his wet fingers reached the opening, goosebumps rousing his skin.

"I doubt Lady Richter is that foolish, but who knows?" Carrigan said, absentmindedly by then, deeply focused on his own pleasure and the view in front of him.

Frey found it strange as well. Lady Richter was well known for her riches and efficient work. Why would she stoop to that level? Why would she even let a man like that close?

To his remorse, his mind went to Marius. In Lady Richter's defence, no matter how reluctant, Frey could relate to finding people of a lower class attractive. It didn't mean they could ever let something happen though. Especially not an actual relationship.

A gasp escaped him, skin flushing again as the thought of Marius refused to go away. The warmth of his breath as he'd helped him with Tea For Two, the firm hands around him as he'd carried him back to the manor, that archon-forsaken smile of his.

He stifled a whimper as an intoxicating pressure began building up, much quicker than it usually did, but he couldn't let it. They weren't done yet. No matter how he tried though, the idea of Marius forced him closer to his limit and he had to stop his teasing fingers from moving further.

"I... Suppose that's some good material to use right there, but what are your sources?" He let out a shaky breath to calm down, determined to keep focusing on why he was actually there. "How can I prove it's true, should she decline my offer?"

Carrigan gave his unmoving hand an unimpressed look before curling his lip.

"I don't think we're ready for that part just yet."

Frey knitted his eyebrows, part of him snapping out of the lightheadedness.

"Excuse me?"

"Lord Clausson, I have to say I'm getting a bit tired of this half-assed exchange we're doing." Carrigan folded his arms as he leaned back in the chair. "Don't you think it's time you start earning this information for real?"

Frey didn't need any further explanation, and he put his legs down, eyes narrowing as the display came to an abrupt end.

"I've told you on multiple occasions—"

"That touching is off limits," Carrigan filled in, with the audacity of looking bored. "I'm painfully aware."

"So—"

"But you know I've desired it for many years now."

Frey averted his gaze as his nose scrunched up in disgust.

"A disturbing number of them."

"Don't you think it's reasonable, then? A little more for my patience?"

"It doesn't work like that." Frey shook his head, fists clenching as the idea passed through his mind. "Besides, if I made an exception, the others would expect it as well."

"Well, perhaps the others should?"

Before Frey could open his mouth to loudly protest Lord Carrigan continued.

"I think it's fair to assume we've all waited for more, don't you think?"

"I most certainly do not." Frey smiled, but didn't bother to hide his contempt anymore. The meetings had always been on his terms. "And I don't understand where this ridiculous demand is coming from. We've always been in agreement before."

Lord Carrigan clicked his tongue.

"Yes, well... That was when your father was alive."

Frey's heart stopped, and his limbs tensed up.

"... My... ?"

"We couldn't do much else than agree with your demands before. It was far from optimal but we got part of what we wanted." Carrigan gestured at Frey's body. "And we had to remain on your good side because of who you were, and your relationship to your father."

Frey struggled for words, drawing a trembling breath to calm his involuntarily convulsing hands, and tried to think.

"Now though?" Carrigan continued. "You're a miserable, deformed heir to nothing. The one thing your family has left is their position, but you didn't even have the sense to make use of it. No, you returned to South Kerilia, desperately clinging to the delusion that people respect you while it was always about your father and his fondness of you."

Frey's mind was shutting down, and he had to get out of there before it showed. So he jumped down from the desk, picking up his shirt from the floor and started getting dressed. How had the conversation taken such a drastic turn? Everywhere he went it was the same thing. His family's misfortune, and the supposedly miserable man he'd become because of it.

"Lady Richter's land isn't worth that much," he muttered, turning his head so his expression wouldn't show. "It would have been an asset to the BBT but it's not like we won't thrive without it."

"Oh, I was actually under the impression you would use it for your own benefit."

Frey finished pulling up his breeches with a frown, glancing over at the other lord.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't have anything left," Carrigan reminded him, leaning back in his armchair with a content smile. "The little land you own isn't going to cover the expensive life you're used to, and Lord Hargreaves won't spoil you forever just because he feels sorry for you. Lady Richter's land would vastly improve your wealth."

Frey's hands trembled as he struggled with buttoning his breeches, cursing inwards as his fingers wouldn't stop twitching. He had to get out. Everything would be fine, he told himself. He just needed to step away from it before his actual emotions would start showing.

"I'll find other ways." He put his shoes on and picked up the rest of his clothes before turning to walk out. He'd just finish dressing right before leaving the house. Anything to get away from the creep quicker. "Would've been easier like this, but then I've always had a strong allergy to filth, so perhaps it's for the best."

"No one but me knows," Carrigan called out behind him. "Even if the others would agree to your irrational terms, they won't be able to provide any new information."

Frey wouldn't dignify his words with a reply.