"I think that's about it." Lucius skimmed through the guest list with tired eyes. Planning an engagement party that he didn't want was a poor use of his time. He had far more important things to do, and while the party was an integral part of it, the details didn't matter much to him.

Except perhaps the guest list.

"I'm surprised you want to invite the Whitbrows," Bahman said as Lucius handed it over to him. "You don't exactly, uh... Seem to be getting along."

"I'm trying to bury the hatchet." Lucius smiled, hoping the malice in his words wouldn't show. "He's a promising merchant and I need to respect that, at least so we're on good terms business-wise."

"That's a relief to hear." Bahman looked genuinely relieved. "And I'm certain he'll be more than willing to accept too. It will be quite the celebration after all."

"With... A lot of people," Lucius agreed, gaze lingering on the list in Bahman's hand, and though his mind was still preoccupied by the longing for fires and debris, Bahman seemed to interpret it differently.

"I don't mean to overstep, but how..." His eyes wandered to Lucius' arm. "... How are things?"

"They've been better, if I'm honest." Lucius glanced down as well. While he was pleased with the way he'd hidden his healing arm behind a crossed fichu and ruffled sleeves, navigating his job and public life without anyone noticing had been a challenge to say the least. "You have my eternal gratitude for helping me hide it."

"I'm just doing the smaller things." Bahman smiled warmly. "It's a good thing you can still write."

Lucius' eyes widened in pretended horror.

"Dyris forbid it had been my other arm."

Not that the shoulder connected to his good arm wasn't scalded beyond repair, but at least he could use it.

Bahman's smile died however, and he rubbed his neck.

"So, I never asked what happened, but... He was not involved, I hope?"

Lucius hadn't even considered the idea. If Damien appeared as abusive, which wasn't too hard to imagine, and thereby considered unfit for Lucia then the marriage could potentially be stopped. It didn't matter at the time though, since there would be no Damien by the time of the wedding. When the mansion went boom, so would his archon forsaken painting.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with, Bahman," he dismissed the question, though he supposed admitting Damien had been involved would not be a lie. "It will heal in time for the wedding. We just need to make it until then."

Bahman was not convinced.

"What about the wedding gown?"

"I said it would be healed by then."

"Someone needs to actually sew it." Bahman reminded him. "They'll need measurements, and time."

Lucius had to at least pretend to be concerned. Measurements were a pain to deal with but if people found out, and by extension Damien, he'd be exposed immediately. From Bahman's perspective, it was a bad look that Lucia would understandably want to keep secret. Had it not been for the plan, it would have been a problem indeed.

"Well... We'll think of something." He made a face. "For now, let's focus on the party."

"There's not much more to do, I believe." Bahman looked at the papers and receipts on the desk. "You've done well in delegating tasks these past days, and your dress covers your injury, so I think all that's left is to wait."

"Yes, I should be heading out," Lucius said absentmindedly and looked out the window. "It's getting late."

"Of course, you need to get some sleep." Bahman nodded before preparing to leave. "Make sure not to strain your shoulder, and I'll see you tomorrow at the party."

Lucius' gaze lingered at Bahman's comforting smile, and then he nodded, slowly, in return.

"I'll see you at the party, Bahman."

***

Thanks to another, already tiresome change of appearance, Lucius arrived at the Squirming Wyrm undesirably late. After scouring the rowdy area to make sure no Derek or similar threat was around, he swiftly made his way over to the table surrounded by a couple of disgruntled Reapers.

"We're all tired," Telmo complained with a withering look as Lucius joined them. "We've been working for days while you're skipping around doing whatever and showing up late."

"I'm not doing 'whatever'." Lucius rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Lucia needed help with the planning, and it's useful information."

Telmo pursed her lips in doubt.

"And you're sure she's not gonna fuck you over in the end? Why would she go along with something like this when she's part of that whole... Asshole business?"

"Well she really doesn't want to get married." Lucius shrugged. "And there will be fewer anglers standing in her way afterwards."

"And that's... Better?"

"Significantly."

The air of doubt still persisted around them, and Lucius shook his head.

"You've all been smuggling gunpowder into that basement for days. Telmo's lied to her mother about helping her with her job, and Ivan's gone through the trouble of providing two dozens of -as far as his comrades know- water damaged barrels of gunpowder. Why would you even consider backing down now?"

"I've just... Given it some thought," Lorenzo said, and Lucius grimaced.

"Lorenzo, no. We've talked about your thinking."

"But don't these people have families too? There's gonna be children."

"Lucia has already announced that it's a party for adults only, or it will be horribly noisy." Lucius dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "No children will be there."

"But they'll be orphans."

Lucius laughed wryly.

"See, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that parents are overrated. I lost mine and I'm doing great.

"Well—" Lorenzo began, but Lucius was already talking over him.

"All we have to do is make Lucia set up more orphanages and then there will be plenty of nice houses for you all to comb through. Maybe even keep, if we're sneaky about it. It's easy."

"It's gotta be over a hundred people," Vinh suddenly chimed in, and Lucius groaned inwards. He'd had such high hopes for the boy's bloodlust. "If it's just a handful you're really after, couldn't we light the fuse before everyone gets there."

Lucius sucked in air as he looked around the table, then he released the breath in a loud sigh.

"I told you before, didn't I? They're the root of all evil in this town. Maybe there's no specific person in your mind right now, but I guarantee there will be one day. You're all criminals, and people have been hanged for less. It's always been that way. The upper crust anglers don't think we're worth more than they can exploit. That's why they call us worms..." Lucius paused, gaze falling on the wooden carving of a serpent on the wall, and he vaguely recalled the conversation he'd had with Ethan. "... But we're not worms! If anything, we're wyrms!"

A moment passed, with the painfully recurring silence sweeping throughout the group, and he soon realised a clarification was in order. So he cleared his throat.

"Like the dragon kind of wyrm."

Still nothing, and Telmo's lip curled, thoroughly unimpressed by the motivational speech already and Lucius swallowed back a frustrated groan.

"Like... The Wyrmdon kind of wyrm."

Lorenzo blinked.

"What's the difference? It's still a worm."

"But the Wyrmdon wyrm is not a worm. It's a dragon, without limbs. A serpent." Lucius closed his eyes in resignation, wondering for how long he could explain the difference with his dignity intact.

"What, the worm in Wyrmdon is not a worm? Then why is it called that?" Lorenzo looked around in genuine confusion at the others. "It's called 'Wormdon', right?"

"'Wyrmdon', Lucius and Telmo corrected him at the same time.

"That's what I said!"

"This is why you all gotta learn how to read!" Lucius threw his hands out, gesturing at Lorenzo. "I can't keep dealing with this every single time we try to do something!"

Vinh had the nerve to let out a snort, and Lucius aimed a glare in his direction before gathering his composure again.

"Wyrms were great serpents. The very bones this isle was built on, and carry it to this day. Isn't that what us alleged worms have been doing all along? Our labour and efforts are the reason this town hasn't gone to The Waste. Is that what worms do? No, the worms are used by anglers for profit, at the cost of the worm's life. When an angler is done with a worm, all that's left is remains swaying in the wind. Hook or noose. Do you want to take that risk? With Lucia granting you a clean slate, you could easily emerge better than ever."

Telmo's eyes narrowed.

"If you can promise us better housing, making sure we're in a nicer area of town, then that should work in our favour. Can you do that?"

Lucius looked smug.

"Most certainly."

"... Not much to lose at this point then." Telmo didn't look convinced, but relented with a wrinkled nose.

"Precisely." Lucius grinned triumphantly. "So let's go blow up some anglers!"