Page 40

two

.

.

.

Aurelia

The Kranes had been in Nea Sterlis since the autumnal Equinox, as they were every year.

Like clockwork, they packed up from Nuva Troi to winter in their modest cottage at the beach.

They certainly weren't the richest family in the Order of Mysteries, but they had something I wanted deeply: a property on Antiquity Row. The Monas was a failing bookstore, that much was certain. The elder Kranes were practically ancient at this point. Their late-in-life progeny, Selene, was set to take over the business.

From what I could tell, she was a rather annoying society chit. The Kranes didn't have massive bank accounts, but they were more than comfortable.

And having both been professors at Acadia in Nuva Troi for centuries, they were well-respected in the Order of Mysteries, but not so far into its upper echelons that they could be picky about who paired with Selene, especially at her age.

Still, I would have to be careful.

To get what I wanted out of all this, it was necessary that they never question me.

Never question my credibility.

I was willing to put in the work, and the years, to get what I wanted most.

What was important now was that I'd run enough small cons to get my bank account to a respectable state.

As soon as I had Selene Krane wrapped around my finger, I could go legit. From all I'd found out, she was likely an irritating little thing, but I could manage that.

To have what I wanted, a respectable family and stability, I could manage one irritating woman.

And then I would make the Monas the jewel of Antiquity Row, and the Kranes one of the Order of Mysteries’ sterling families.

The only thing to do now was to meet her .

I'd considered parties, but in my experience, people were guarded at social functions. Those in the upper echelons of Nuva Troi society were used to evening events being an emotional bloodbath. No, it would be better to meet another way. Some chance meeting during the daytime would serve me better.

And I had to find another place. Geyrion Wyndsal's vast collection of current fashion was helpful, but Wyndsal’s movements were unpredictable.

I couldn’t stay here for long.

The recluse's wards had been easy enough to break, but I needed another place to stay, and soon. I ventured down to Wyndsal's basement storage, smiling.

The man had ordered a full wardrobe every season of the year for centuries and never worn much of it at all.

And what was more, there was absolutely no evidence that he'd ever archived any of it—the fool. When I'd worked my way into his housekeeper's good graces in Nuva Troi, I'd learned all I needed to know.

He treated his staff poorly, hated humans, and had a terrible memory.

Most of his staff were fleecing him.

Not only would he not miss the clothing I was about to take, his bigoted views made stealing from him a genuine pleasure.

I packed my suitcases with a variety of items from several seasons, including ones more than a decade back.

Having a mix of things was the key to getting this right.

Geyrion was a right arse, but at the very least, he had excellent taste in clothes.

I packed six bags' worth of clothing that would get me through the rest of the winter here at the beach, and through a good deal of the season. By the time I returned to Nuva Troi with the rest of the social set, perhaps he would return here, and I might pilfer his townhouse in Nuva Troi if I needed anything else. We were a perfect match for size.

It was a haul to get the suitcases to the garage in the carriage house, but I managed. When my autocar was loaded, I changed into a light sweater and a pair of linen pants. I had one more stop to make before I checked into the Palace.