Page 7 of By Mistake

Andrus huffed but subsided, only jerking a couple of times as Greivs patiently and carefully tended to his nose and the rest of his face.

When he was done, Andrus did indeed feel much better, though his face would probably be sore and swollen for a couple of days.

"Thank you. I'm sorry you came to see me and had to deal with my problems for me.

That seems to be all you and Oresti do. I don't know why you bother to keep coming. "

"I think you're charming, engaging, and interesting," Greivs replied.

"I'm always delighted to make new friends.

I don't have many of them in my line of work.

Oresti is my best friend and my employer, and I love him dearly, but serving him does not leave much time for socializing.

That aside, it's clear he's smitten with you, and I've never seen Oresti smitten with anyone. "

"Smitten? With me? I don't think I'm the only one to have taken a few knocks to the head," Andrus said with a disbelieving laugh.

"He just feels sorry for me. Though, speaking of, why isn't he here?

You've never come on your own before. Not that I mind, I don't. You're welcome here same as Oresti.

" He'd wondered before what their relationship was, and wasn't surprised to learn Greivs worked for Oresti, some sort of assistant with duties that didn't usually fall to such positions.

Then again, he'd never heard of someone like Oresti, clearly wealthy and powerful outside of his position of Investigator, befriending someone he employed.

Were they also lovers? But if they were, wouldn't Greivs be angry that Oresti was 'smitten' with him? Well, not necessarily, it wasn't like having multiples partners and spouses was unheard of.

"Why did Farthing assault you?" Greivs asked before Andrus could figure out how to politely ask all his nosy questions. He shouldn't be asking them, anyway.

Andrus spread his hands. "I've no idea. He kept screaming about the unpaid taxes being taken care of, but that doesn't make any sense. I don't have that kind of money, and he knows that."

Greivs frowned. "Did you not get the papers? I was sure I put them in the basket."

"Papers?" Andrus flushed and scrambled to his feet, waving off Greivs as he hastened into the pantry to fetch the basket. As he set it on the island, he finally saw the papers he hadn't noticed before, folded neatly and tucked securely beneath the bottle of wine.

Pulling them out, he unfolded them and skimmed. His taxes had been paid for anonymously. Every last sel. Of which there had been many thousands . "I'm going to kill him."

Greivs laughed. "He was prepared for that outcome. Unfortunately, he couldn't come himself tonight like he wanted, called away on urgent family business."

"Family business?" Andrus asked before he could stop himself.

"I hope nobody is hurt or sick." Family like parents and siblings?

Or family as in spouse and children? Stupidly, he'd never considered that before, that Oresti would already have a family of his own.

If he could pay off enormous sums so easily, he might even have more than one spouse.

Legally the limit was three, but special dispensation could be made if the applicants could prove they had the funds and resources necessary for an additional spouse.

"Everyone is fine," Greivs said with a smile that almost seemed approving, unless Andrus was losing his mind. Which was definitely possible. "There was a mix-up in scheduling that caused some problems, so he is helping sort the mess and standing in for his sister at a couple of affairs."

Andrus blinked, then slowly nodded. "I see.

" He didn't see at all. That sounded very high society, lords and ladies for almost certain, at the very least wealthy merchants and other 'commoners' that had more wealth than their so-called betters.

A younger son of a wealthy or noble family pretentious enough to name him after the prince, low enough in the matter of inheritance to be permitted to take up a 'noble' calling like Investigator, and had a personal assistant who was also his friend.

That would certainly explain a great deal about Oresti. Maybe he did see after all.

"I will report this matter to him, so he can deal with Farthing properly," Greivs replied.

"Don't!" Andrus said, crossing the room to stand closer.

"Please, don't. Farthing isn't his problem.

My taxes aren't either, but I can hardly do anything about that now.

Farthing is extremely powerful, and he won't hesitate to use that power to hurt Oresti, you, and both your families.

You can't tell him. I've been looking after myself all my life, and dealing with Farthing for the past few years.

" Oresti already felt sorry for him, thought he needed looking after like some damned child.

The last thing he wanted was for Oresti to see he was even more right than he knew.

"I can't promise that," Greivs said, though he sounded genuinely remorseful. "Leaving aside that he employs me, he's my best friend, and worries deeply about you. He will ask me how you are. Also, I just beat Farthing half to death, so it's going to be found out anyway."

Andrus flinched. "Of course, I'm so stupid and selfish, you'll be in danger yourself. I'm sorry. I was so panicked… I'm sorry you've endangered yourself by helping me."

"Farthing can't do a damn thing to me and he knows it.

If he tries to run his mouth about me assaulting him, he'll have to admit it was because he was assaulting you.

No, don't worry about me. You weren't being selfish, my lord.

You were scared. But please do not worry about this matter further.

I can't promise not to tell Oresti, but I will try to dissuade him from action, if that's truly what you want.

" He tilted his head. "Why is Farthing so obsessed with you? "

"He's obsessed with putting me in my place, as I've never been as respectful or obedient as he wants," Andrus said sourly, turning away and going to slump against the island, staring at the cold fireplace as Greivs started moving around the kitchen.

"Like I said before, it's the house he really wants, though I couldn't tell you why. "

More like wouldn't , but that wasn't anyone else's business.

Farthing had started out playing nice, bringing him little gifts that were, in the end, empty show.

Then he offered money in exchange for access, because try as he might, the oldest magics in the house still held, and Farthing couldn't go further than the entry hall until Andrus granted him access.

Or until he bought it, and control of the magic was transferred.

What Farthing wanted, what nobody could ever know about, was the secret room in the basement where so much of his great grandfather's magic collection still resided.

Books, tools, potions that were probably useless by now, and so much more.

Andrus would have gladly sold it all off if he'd been able to, but not only were the items bound to the house, it was illegal for him to possess any of it.

If he was ever caught out, that was it, he would go to prison if he was lucky and straight to the executioner if he wasn't.

How Farthing knew about it when neither Andrus nor his parents had ever breathed a word of it to anyone, he had no idea.

He wasn't stupid enough to ask, either, just continuously protested the room's existence.

If he was ever found out, he wanted to be absolutely certain they never had any reason to think he knew.

Farthing was clearly out of patience, though, especially now that the paid taxes meant he wouldn't be able to simply buy the property as he'd planned.

There was no telling what lengths he'd go to now.

Andrus hadn't cared when he was the only person affected by the mess, but now…

now Oresti and Greivs had been stupid enough to help him, which meant Farthing would hurt them, either just for the pleasure or to use them against Andrus.

Just once he wished he had more solutions than problems.

"Here."

He looked up and took the steaming porcelain mug that smelled of tea, honey, and whisky that Andrus knew damn good and well he didn't own. "Where did you magic up whisky?"

Greivs laughed. "I keep a flask on me. You never know when or how alcohol will prove useful.

Drink up, apply more ointment before you go to bed, and get plenty of rest. I'll ensure you are not troubled further, but fully expect Oresti to show up as soon as he can to fuss over you. I was serious earlier."

"What do you mean?" Andrus asked, even as his heart kicked up, because he knew very well what Greivs was referring to.

"He's smitten with you. Doesn't even realize it himself, I don't think, or at least won't admit it. Never seen him sweet on anyone. His family quite despairs, actually, because they've had countless offers of marriage for him, but his father does not believe in forcing anyone to marry."

"Well, they should probably do it anyway, because even if it was true he is smitten with a loser like me, letting him pursue that would be the stupidest thing anyone has ever done.

I have nothing, I am nothing, and it's long past time all of us remembered that and you two go your own way.

Thank you for the help and the toddy. Goodnight, Master Greivs.

" Andrus strode off, vanishing into the backrooms and locking the door of his bedroom behind him.

It chafed at him, being so rude, but it was kinder than letting this peculiar arrangement or whatever it was continue on.

Also safer for them, as even the wealthiest merchant in the city would not be able to stand successfully against the ruthless, conniving force that was Lord Grell Farthing, sixth Earl of Hashne, and the cretin of all cretins.

His day had been going so well. He had money, he'd been planning on new clothes, he had Oresti's attention for at least a little while longer…

Now he was battered, bruised, and scared—of what Farthing would do to him, and worse, what he'd do to Oresti and Greivs. This wasn't fair . He had to do something.

Fighting back was out of the question; if he could do that he wouldn't have a broken nose and a face that was one big bruise. He couldn't hide behind Oresti like a fucking coward, either. He was pathetic, but he wasn't a coward.

That left leaving, the one thing he'd never wanted to do, because this was his home.

This was all he had left of his family, broken and miserable as that family had been.

He'd played in the garden as a child. He'd hidden in the long-empty library to cry when his first attempts at friendship and later romance had shattered his heart to pieces, when he'd truly come to understand that nobody would ever want someone like him.

He'd had to leave his parents to rot in the temple because he couldn't afford to give the bodies a proper cremation.

Had sacrificed food for weeks to be able to bring the bones home when they were ready.

Even now those bones sat tucked away awaiting a proper ceremony he'd never be able to give them.

He'd spent what felt like most of his life in the kitchen making the barest scraps into meals, using tea leaves until they had absolutely nothing left to give. All he had left of them were memories and this house.

But memories couldn't keep him safe and warm.

Memories couldn't spare Oresti from Farthing's wrath.

Only Andrus not being here would keep all of them safe.

Where would he go? With what money? At least he did have some coin.

He could pack up whatever foodstuffs would survive indefinitely; his limited clothes wouldn't take up much room.

If only he had someone to help him, he could take even more.

Someone to help him…

Once, only once, when he was very young, his mother had gone into the secret basement room and summoned up what she'd called a brownie, a very minor type of demon that was useful for doing mundane chores and other trivial things.

The brownie had helped her move furniture and other heavy things to sell, resulting in money enough to keep them in food for weeks.

It had been one of the few times that Andrus had gotten to eat meat that wasn't smoked or salted or otherwise cured.

It had been some sort of fowl he couldn't remember the name of, the best thing he'd ever tasted. He'd never had it since.

After all the furniture and ornamentation was gone, she'd dismissed the brownie, and he'd never again noticed her using magic.

If he had a brownie, it could help him pack and carry, maybe even haul a cart if he could find one to borrow or buy. There were plenty of villages and small towns outside the city, surely he could figure out something in one of them. Find work, since there would be nobody who even knew of Farthing.

And Farthing would probably never find him. He'd be safe. Oresti and Greivs would be safe, which was the truly important thing. The house would eventually fall in on itself, the magic would die with it, and whoever took it over could have the mess.

Ignoring the heavy ache in his chest, Andrus abandoned his bedroom to venture into the basement to see what was required to summon a brownie. Surely it couldn't be that difficult.