"Speaking of which, Lady Frost," Emma said lightly, though there was nothing light in her eyes as her gaze slid toward her, "I truly didn’t expect you to side with the Faceless Imposter."
Emma Voss hated criminals.
That much was well known.
And a noble openly associating with demons—no, entangled with them—was, in her eyes, a stain that couldn’t be scrubbed clean.
That disdain was written plainly across her face as she looked at Alia.
—Zap.
Like a baton being passed mid-relay, that sharp, judging glare shifted.
Straight to .
A silent accusation.
No—more like a protest.
What were you thinking, bringing her here?
I felt it clearly.
"Ha-ha," I laughed, clapping my hands once to break the tension. "Miss Alia, your gaze is frighteningly sharp. Aren’t we comrades here? Can’t we at least try on a slightly friendlier expression?"
"Of course not!" Alia snapped instantly, spinning toward Emma and jabbing a finger in her direction.
"Are you insane?! There was absolutely no reason to expose to Lady Voss! Who exactly are you planning to ship off to the mines as forced labor, huh?!"
Emma’s eyebrow twitched.
"I do not ship people to the mines," she said coolly. "I rely ensure contracts are... fulfilled."
"That’s worse!"
I raised a hand between them, unfazed.
"That seems unlikely," I said calmly. "After all, Miss Emma is in a situation quite similar to yours."
Both of them froze.
"...What?" Alia said flatly.
Emma’s eyes narrowed. "Explain."
Alia wanted Luciana’s attention.
Emma wanted justice—no, revenge—for her mother.
Different motivations.
Sa reason for standing beside .
"...Sigh."
That single sound carried Alia’s reluctant understanding.
"I knew it," she muttered, rubbing her temple. "I thought you only wanted to ask about what happened at the party with Alia today. But calling in Lady Voss too... you’re plotting sothing again, aren’t you?"
Bingo.
I clapped my hands again, this ti genuinely impressed.
"Exactly! This isn’t sothing that can end with a simple greeting. More importantly—" I smiled, slow and deliberate, "—it’s sothing both Miss Alia and Miss Emma need to work together to accomplish."
"...?" Alia frowned. "With Lady Voss?"
Emma crossed her arms, unimpressed.
"I don’t recall agreeing to cooperate with reckless nobles who consort with demons."
"Ouch," I said. "That hurts. Slightly."
"It was ant to," Emma replied without hesitation.
I shrugged it off and leaned forward.
I exhaled slowly and leaned back in my chair, letting the tension in the room settle before speaking again.
"Miss Alia," I said, turning to her first, "you’re a rchant—and a good one. You know better than anyone that information, trade routes, and favors are worth more than gold ever will be."
Alia stiffened at the sudden attention.
She wasn’t used to being called out so directly in front of others—especially not in a room where emotions were already running hot.
Alia moved in circles Emma never had.
Banquets, auctions, closed-door negotiations.
Places where words mattered more than swords.
She swallowed once, eyes flicking briefly to Emma before returning to .
"...I don’t deny that," Alia said cautiously. "But I don’t see how that involves ."
Across the table, Emma scoffed.
"That’s ridiculous," she snapped, cold fury flashing in her eyes. "Why should I accept help from her?"
"Miss Emma."
"Don’t act familiar by using my first na," Emma cut in sharply. "Just give the information."
Her patience was gone.
The air cracked as her hand slamd into the desk.
Crack.
Fine fractures spread across the polished surface, stopping just short of my fingers.
"Where is my mother’s enemy?" she demanded.
The room went dead silent.
No one needed an explanation.
Emma Voss’s mother had died during a raid by thieves—bandits who should have been hunted down and executed.
Instead, so had slipped through the cracks.
Escaped west.
Bought safety with stolen gold.
And now lived comfortably, as if nothing had happened.
Emma’s rage wasn’t loud anymore.
It was sharp. Focused. Dangerous.
I t her gaze without flinching.
"Getting angry won’t make the answer co any faster," I said calmly.
Her jaw tightened.
"...You hinted at it in your letters," she said, voice low. "You said you could tell where they went."
"I did," I replied. "And I can."
Her eyes sharpened instantly.
"But," I added, raising a finger, "not because I know."
Emma frowned.
Alia tilted her head slightly, catching on faster.
"I know soone who does."
Emma’s stare hardened.
"...You’re playing with words."
"Maybe," I admitted with a shrug. "But I’m not lying."
The distinction mattered.
But still, all she could do was look dissatisfied, as there were no actions she could take.
Without any clues, she had to rely on even to find a lead.
Emma exhaled through her nose, slow and controlled.
"...So," she said at last, "you expect to sit here and wait while you dangle half-answers in front of ."
"Not wait," I corrected. "Coordinate."
Her fingers tightened against the desk’s edge, the faint cracks beneath them creaking softly.
"And what exactly makes you think I’d trust either of you?"
Alia scoffed.
"Oh please," she said dryly. "If I were planning to sell you out, do you really think I’d do it while sitting across the table from you?"
Emma’s gaze flicked to her, icy.
"You consort with demons."
"And you consort with contracts that ruin lives," Alia shot back without missing a beat. "Yet here we are, breathing the sa air."
The tension spiked again, sharp enough to sting.
I clicked my tongue.
"See? Wonderful chemistry already."
Neither of them laughed.
I continued anyway.
"Emma, you want nas. Locations. Proof strong enough that when you move, they won’t slip away again."
Her silence was answer enough.
"And Alia," I went on, turning slightly, "you want protection. Influence. And soone powerful enough that certain... misunderstandings about your associations don’t spiral out of control."
Alia’s eyes narrowed.
"...You’re really saying that out loud."
"I am," I said lightly. "Because pretending otherwise helps no one."
Emma slowly straightened.
"Soday, you will regret ssing with ."
Ouch...That kinda hurt.
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