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“Understandable. Necromancy is not a proper profession for most women, I would say.” As the words left my mouth, my thoughts turned to the only female necromancer I did know.

Haron was a breed unto her own, even excluding her chosen field of magic.

Looking at Gennel Rhen in all his prim manners and proper speech, I could not imagine someone like him being raised by a woman like Haron Val Toric.

Just thinking about that scenario almost made me laugh aloud.

“Did your mother study another branch of magic?”

“Absolutely not!” Gennel waved the thought away. “Women have no place in practicing magic. Their dispositions are much too unstable, too emotional, to be able to harness its unpredictable nature.”

I opened my mouth to agree, but thought again of the account Beolf gave in his brief—and apparently very traumatic—encounter with Haron at Highlan Pid’s manse.

How he recounted the corpse she reanimated to attack the guards kept me up for nights after.

Four people were gravely injured that night.

Fortunately, the healers were called in time to save them from bleeding out, but two of those guards were permanently maimed—one had deep cuts across his face and the other lost half his hand from getting bitten off.

She could be an anomaly, sure… but in my life the very few female healers I knew who served in the royal army were all very gifted in their field.

Not that they received any kind of recognition or promotion for those accomplishments.

That was unheard of in Respar.

“And that belief is what brings me to the main purpose of my meeting.”

My eyes narrowed with suspicion. Behar’s growls grew even more threatening. “I thought you were coming to introduce yourself.”

“I was,” he answered innocently enough, but his eyes shifted nervously to Behar and back. “But I also have a concern to report regarding a certain… woman I heard about. One that goes by the name of Haron Val Toric.”

Beolf was having a harder time keeping his noises to himself. Another snort, poorly disguised as a cough because he's not that creative, had us both turning our heads to stare at him. “Sorry,” he tapped his chest with a fist. “Must be coming down with something.”

“What of this woman? Did she attack you?” I tried to keep my tone even and unbiased, despite the beast inside me wanting to rage against whoever thought to speak badly of her.

For all her strong-willed mannerisms, I would never suspect Haron of attacking someone without provocation.

Even when I first saw her at the guild, she didn't retaliate until the guild member laid his hands on her.

Gennel’s head rocked from side to side. “Not personally,” he began hesitantly. “But I heard from some reliable sources that she brought a revenant to the Necromancy Guild’s front door. Has the guildmaster not contacted you about this yet?”

“I hadn’t heard about this incident from him , no.

But I’m sure if the guildmaster thought he couldn’t handle it himself, he would send a request. Would your reliable source happen to be Nebold?

” I was careful to word my response so it wasn’t a blatant lie.

I had, in fact, heard about this. But it was from Haron, further undermining Nebold's schemes.

While I didn't exactly agree with her methods, this was out of my jurisdiction until Nebold brought a formal complaint against her.

Guild matters stayed within the guilds, unless there was a murder involved.

Although Haron seemed to be toeing that line, hauling a revenant to the guild's door.

Gennel shifted uneasily on his feet, the perfect picture of a concerned citizen. “Perhaps, although the source of my information is irrelevant. It’s quite shocking to hear of a necromancer strong enough to actually animate a corpse. Doesn’t that make you… uneasy?”

My eyebrow cocked. “How so? I trust the guild to be able to manage their constituents, and Haron has not given any indication of being out of control with regard to following the laws of Respar.”

“Of course,” he pandered. “But someone that powerful, especially a woman, would need to be closely monitored, wouldn’t you think?”

“I could be wrong, but that decision ultimately falls to me and my council, if the guild requests assistance. Please trust in the fact I will keep Respar as safe as possible.”

It was brief, just a heartbeat’s time. But there was some dark, insidious emotion that flashed across Gennel’s otherwise friendly expression before he schooled it into an easy smile.

“Of course, Your Highness,” he said with a slight bow.

“I would never presume to overstep your authority. I’m sure Guildmaster Briton will follow the correct procedure to have that woman detained. ”

“I’m sure he will.” I struggled to keep my voice even. “Is there anything else you would like to address?”

“I believe that is all. Thank you for your time, Prince Irin. I look forward to serving beneath your rule.”

“Thank you, may the gods smile upon you.”

My answer was somewhat vacant as I kept my eyes on Gennel Rhen’s retreating figure until the doors shut behind him.

Behar’s snarling cut off almost immediately after Gennel crossed the door’s threshold.

My attention dropped to his tense body, now looking even more foreboding with his fur bristling and teeth still bared.

It took him a few minutes to unwind, but finally he flopped down on the cool stone floor and rested his head at my feet with a huff.

“Beolf, have the spymaster set someone on him. I want to know everything about this Rhen family. How have they gone five years without my notice?”

“Well, the Guild of Finance keeps their cards pretty close to the chest, and they mainly report to the Royal Council and not the king himself. I’m sure there are several silent contributors to the guild treasury that insist on being anonymous.

Otherwise, those families would be in constant danger of being ransomed or killed to weaken competitors in other guilds. ”

“Still, there should be a roster, no? Have a request sent to list all the investors of the guild treasury.”

Beowulf sighed heavily. “I’m sure the council has it, if you would leverage your advantage as the upcoming king instead of threatening them for information.”

“They would not give that up without something in return. I refuse to be the puppet that dances on their strings.”

“All the same, you may find them more willing to share what they know if they didn’t feel like their heads were constantly on the chopping block.”

This time I growled, the sound low in my chest. Beolf remained unbothered, but Behar’s ears rose to attention. “And what was your problem?” I asked the rinhound.

Behar lifted his head, as if knowing I was talking to him.

His mouth opened wide enough to let his tongue flop out in a happy grin that showed all his menacing teeth.

The way he tilted his head to the side with his ears perked gave the sense he was asking, ‘what do you mean?’ My connection to him wasn’t as strong in my natural form, but I wasn’t going through the immense pain of shifting just to see what pissed him off.

Maybe Gennel was wearing a cologne Behar didn’t like.

Or he could have pets of his own and their scent put him on guard.

Regardless, I couldn’t stay mad at him for any length of time. Especially not with that goofy, toothy smile.

“Your Highness,” the butler called, and I wanted to cringe. “Are you ready for the next guest?”