“So, what now?” Keith asked the marquess after his future in-laws were taken care of. “You drag me to the council and put on your little show?”

The marquess laughed. “Wouldn’t you like that. No, no. I’m just waiting for a special delivery. I’m patient. It’ll take a few days for my bride to reach home so I’m in no rush.”

“I wonder,” Keith said. “Did she say yes?”

“Not yet.” The marquess looked like someone had offered him a tray of cinnamon buns. “But that’s half the fun.”

“Good luck with that.” Keith gleefully imagined Ria picking up the man and throwing him out a window. The rogue servant stripped the Veralyn’s enchanted restraint manacles off of Franni and he opened the cell to the royals to toss in the lizardkin, not bothering to lock it behind her. Then he gathered up the squished and sad looking shroomdoom and carefully put it back into the glass container.

“So,” Keith asked, curious if his own theories were correct. “How did you get your hands on my lieutenant?”

The marquess laughed, “They were easy targets for the Servalt Assassins Guild. Once they had dropped off their query and were on the way home, they had let down their guard. Easy prey. And they came with such fun toys.”

“I don’t believe you. Lady Gloria would never attack someone returning fallen members to her.” Keith pointed out. The woman might have been an assassin, but she had a code all onto herself.

“Welns was a terrible guild leader.” The rogue servant spoke, drawing my attention to the man. He was medium build and looked nondescript with brown hair and brown eyes. Easily forgetable and easily the perfect face for a rogue.

“Don’t give away too much.” Chadwick chided, though his self-satisfied grin belayed any real bite to the order.

Keith frowned. His treaty wasn’t with Gloria Welns, but with the actual assassin’s guild… still, if there was a new leader maybe they had found a way around it. This was going to be a lot of paperwork and some legwork when he returned home. With his princess.

More work for Rufus when Keith got back, he decided. The beastman deserved a challenge, and crushing the new boss of their neighboring Assassin’s Guild into polite submission sounded like just the thing.

He was meditating on the best course of action when the sound of footsteps drew his attention to a man with cat ears and scruffy whiskers standing in the dungeon entrance. “Manny, I’ve got the goods- Ah, good you are here Marquess.”

The catkin shoved a clear bottle of red liquid with flecks of black swirling inside at the servant.

Molten ash vane.

“Good job. I’ll dispose of Their Royal Pains from Drendil.” Manny the rogue servant swished the liquid around in the bottle, catching the dim light of the dungeon. "And you can say you last saw them defeated by the Dark Lord's lieutenant. If they bother asking you at all."

"Just because they have me under house arrest doesn't mean they won't ask me under truth spell all manner of annoying questions." The marquess scoffed. "I'd rather have a plan on top of a plan. And even if they don't ask me at the council meeting tomorrow, they're bound to come around asking questions once it's discovered that I'm actually married to the princess."

The servant smiled a vicious smile. "I might even have enough to get rid of the lizardkin while I'm at it. The more the merrier."

“Wait until we’ve turned away.” The marquess ordered, grabbing the catkin and facing the wall. “The last I saw of Simon and Thalia has to be the lizardkin killing them.”

Just then, the wall exploded.