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Nebold crumbled, the sniveling rat that he was. "Of course! This is Haron Val Toric, one of our more…" His mouth twisted like he bit into something sour. Nebold's shifty gaze flickered to my own, obviously rooting around for some mild word to describe me. I crossed my arms and leaned on a hip, trying to keep my face smooth to not betray the immense satisfaction of watching him flounder. "Successful necromancers, despite hershort term as a member. Haron, this is Highlan Gennel Rhen of the Guild of Finance."

Gennel's lips curled even more. His eyes bored into mine, even as he reached out to pull a hand from where I had it tucked beneath the opposite elbow. I was wrong about his hands. He wore pristine white gloves tucked into the sleeves of his coat, ones that looked like they had never seen a speck of dirt since they were made. The urge to use that hand to smack the smile off his face was very tempting, watching him pull it up to his face as he bowed only a little. "The pleasure is mine."

As soon as his cool lips touched my skin, every part of me balked in sick revulsion. My arm felt like it had been doused in freezing cold water, numbing up to the elbow and sending shivers beyond it that shook me hard enough to make my teeth chatter. And the twisting, nauseous roll in my stomach threatened to send my breakfast back up onto the smug Highlan. Some flicker of emotion lit his eyes briefly, like a recognition of how that simple touch affected me, and his smirk turned sly when he finally let my hand go. I immediately wanted to thrust that hand in a fire and purge it of his touch.

It was… unnatural. Every part of me screamed to get away from this man. I had the impression Gennel knew exactly how he made me feel, and wanted to see some kind of reaction from it. Instead of jerking my hand away to rub against my pants like I wanted, I slowly pulled it back to where it had been crossed in front of my chest. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of a rise out of me.

Nebold, oblivious to my disgust, turned back to Gennel. "Highlan Rhen, a pleasure as always in speaking with you. I look forward to presenting my proposal for the first expedition at the Guild of Finance."

Gennel bowed his head slightly, but never took his eyes off me. "Of course. An honor meeting you as well, Lady Val Toric."Finally he let my hand slip from his, and I gritted my teeth as subtly as I could manage before bowing back.

I didn't trust myself with any more than that. If I unlocked my jaw now there was no telling what would come out of my mouth. Without another word or look to the guildmaster, Gennel turned for the guild's exit and made his way down the hall. Nebold stared at his back all the way down until he turned the corner before setting a supremely pissed-off look on me.

"You didn't come visit me, despite my many requests to have a meeting at your next tithing."

My restraint had dried up. I rolled my eyes and reached for the treasurer's door again, determined to get out of here as fast as humanly possible. "I'm sure Ybin would have had me hauled off to your study as soon as I deposited my tithes. And it seemed like you were busy, regardless."

"Come with me," he commanded in a voice not accustomed to disobedience. "I already informed Ybin you would be late to submit your tithes."

He was enjoying the power play. He knew that I knew there was no escaping this encounter without causing a scene, since he had sent out several official requests while I was traveling or fulfilling requests. For some reason, Nebold was under the impression I had to drop everything and come running back to Gilamorst whenever he beckoned.

Fucking wily bastard. "Of course you did."

Nebold waited until I came alongside him. His nod of approval made me feel like he was training a hunting dog instead of interacting with a human. With the stiff shuffle of a man not used to much walking, we slowly made our way back down the hall into the depths of the guild.

"Tell me of your recent work, Haron." Again with the commanding, never a casual question with him. "With how youignored all my previous summons, I assumed you were involved with some secretive or dangerous jobs."

I kept my hands clasped at the small of my back and my gait slow and even. "There were a few cases with some prominent figures, but nothing outside of what I could handle. Mostly settling family disputes or finding dead bodies in Ber's Forest. You know, the usual."

There was no fucking way I was telling him about Trisne Pid. For all I knew, Nebold was the one who buried her himself and tried to make it look like a novice's attempt at hiding a dead body. He was shrouded in so many corrupt and shady dealings with the Highlans it would not shock me in the least if he’d rid them of unwanted children before. Everyone knew Jinon had no love for his daughter, even less so when she publicly announced her withdrawal as a bridal candidate for the almighty Prince Irin Gailish. I doubted Nebold was the one who wrote the letters, but I would not be at all surprised if he helped Jinon hide Trisne's death.

Finally, Nebold huffed a sigh. "I see. Well, we can discuss more about my expectations in my study."

He was referring, of course, to the looming double doors we had stopped at. They were quite gaudy and just as falsely foreboding as Nebold, carved with intricate designs of skeletons clad in armor and bearing weapons, as if rallying for war. There were rows upon rows of them, all standing at attention in a militaristic formation, with the Wiran eclipse of the double moons, Desper and Gilana, rising high above them in the sky. When the larger red moon Desper moved in front of its blue counterpart, it was believed to give immeasurable strength from the Dark Goddess herself for necromantic castings. However, one has not been seen since the fall of the Julran empire. Some thought it was the goddess Wira punishing humans for letting her beloved kingdom of followers fall to war.

So of course, Nebold thought it proper to carve her sacred eclipse into his fucking door. From how the skeletal army stood, it was like they guarded the room beyond the doors from whoever deemed themselves worthy enough to visit Nebold in his private study.

“Please, come in.” Nebold gestured to the door. One of his assistants stationed beside them scurried forward to grip the knobs and push them open with a smallhuffof effort. “Can I offer you a drink?”

So you can poison me with it?

“I’m fine, thank you.” I followed him inside the study, trying not to roll my eyes at how overdone the decorations were. Skulls mounted on the wall, a complete skeleton in the corner hanging limply from fine wires attached to the ceiling as if it were floating in the air. “Happy to see not much has changed here since I last visited.”

The barbed compliment flew right over Nebold’s head as he shuffled around the monstrosity he called a desk. It was offensive to my minimalistic tendencies. “Thank you, Haron. I pride myself on consistency. Change is for the fickle-minded.”

“I beg to differ, but I don’t think you brought me in to debate philosophies.”

“No, I did not.” He settled into the wide wing-backed chair with the groan of a feeble old man. “At least I have no plans to debate my point. This is more of an intervention.”

The pause he added was obviously meant to intimidate. Leaning back in the chair, fingers laced together and the picture of authority, Nebold leveled a stern glare at me across the room. “Are you going to sit down?” It was a question, but not one he expected me to answer.

“Nope,” I popped the ‘p.’ “I’m not planning to stay long, so I’m fine by the door.”

One of his greyed eyebrows rose in question. “Oh? What makes you think you have the power to determine when you are allowed to leave?”

I rocked back onto my heels and slid my hands into the tight pockets of my leather pants. This little back-and-forth was nothing if not amusing. He didn’t seem to feel the same, his expressive brows now lowering slowly over his eyes. “Firstly, trust me when I say I have more than enough power to leave if I want to. Secondly, I have not done anything outside the guild’s constitution to warrant detention.”

“And you think ignoring your master isn’t a punishable offense?”