Page 162 -- XVIII.

Chapter Eighteen: ‘O, crashing pyre...!’
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She didn’t recognize his face. He was a redhead, young and stocky, and the butler’s suit barely fit him. She could see blood on his sleeves, as well as a guardsman on the floor in the hallway.

“Finally,” the man said, not even bothering to close the door behind him. “We’ve been waiting all day for a chance to talk to you alone.”

‘Less alone than we expected,’ said his reaper, eyeing Garovel. ‘And just who are you? You didn’t identify yourself as Vanguard, either.’

Garovel chose not to reply.

“Perhaps we are being rude.” The man pressed a hand to his chest. “My name is Desmond,” he said. “This is my friend, Ezmortig.”

‘Frankly,’ said Ezmortig, ‘we are relieved to hear that you are not with the Vanguard. And yet, after coming all the way here to Atreya, it would be a waste to leave now.’

“What do you want?” said Helen.

Ezmortig looked to Mehlsanz. ‘Your cooperation, of course. Having Queen Helen on our side would smoothen the transition.’

“Transition to what?”

‘War,’ said Mehlsanz.

Helen’s brow lowered. “I think not.”

“Now, now, Your Majesty. Hear us out.”

‘We’re listening,’ said Garovel.

Desmond stepped forward. “See, your brother, Prince Gabriel, he thinks he hired us. He doesn’t realize that we found him. And while he seems like a cunning man, I think everyone here can agree that he’s in a bit over his head, now.”

‘We don’t care who’s on the throne,’ said Ezmortig, ‘just so long as they’re ours.’

“The Prince wanted us to waltz right in, kill you, and be done with it,” said Desmond. “Which, admittedly, I’m still more than happy to do, but my friend here says that killing the Queen would cause a bit of a stir--both politically and publicly. And I’m inclined to agree, because if it comes to a fight, I might accidentally destroy half this castle. So we thought we should at least give you a chance to make things easier for everyone. And hey, the best part is, you all get to live.”