Lore waits in the car. I rather not join him, especially after earlier. I claimed that our conversation wasn’t finished, but what more is there to say? He doesn’t need to know more about my past or my feelings concerning the church, although he can easily guess about the latter. Unfortunately, something tells me that Lore will get more information out of me than I’d like to give. If that’s the case, I have to make sure to use those moments to get the truth out of him too. If I can. I’m not exactly the best at mental manipulation. Mind games have never been part of my playbook. I’m more of a “brute force it” kind of guy.

Draven steps out of the house shortly after Lore and I left. He heads to the car, likely having received directions to the law firm. I follow and--very reluctantly--slip into the backseat.

“Since I do not know if you have any real experience with criminal investigation, please refrain from giving too many details about Mr. Marshalls’ death,” Lore says sternly. “The less the public knows the more likely the killer is to make a mistake and admit to something they shouldn’t know if we are to interview them.”

“I appreciate the advice even if it’s obvious, Your Grace,” I reply.

Lore clicks his tongue. “Should a paladin be so easy to rile up? I thought you were meant to support peace and love.”

“Aren’t Lords meant to have better manners? Shouldn’t someone have taught you that it’s rude to purposefully piss people off?”

Lore chuckles and replies around a wicked grin, “Come now, everyone knows the primary objective of nobility is to piss people off in the most condescendingly polite way possible. I’d like to think that I excel at that.”

“I will admit that you certainly do.”

Lore gasps in exaggeration. “Careful with your flattery less you win my heart and I don’t think the church would condone our union.”

Why is he like this? Why couldn’t I get a different assignment? Maybe Olere will have me switch places with another paladin if I beg. I’m willing to do it as I’ve done so before after a local farmer caught me kissing her son, who did not inform me that he was engaged to a very wealthy man. I almost lost my balls that day had I not begged to keep the boys in tact seeing as I hadn’t known.

“If I ever got married, I’d want a black wedding,” Lore abruptly adds, like this is a perfectly normal conversation to have around an enemy. He proceeds to glance at me with wide, inquisitive eyes.

“I am not having a conversation with you about weddings.”

Lore scrunches up his face in seemingly earnest disappointment. “Why not? It's a pleasant and meaningless conversation, or are you not even allowed to do that with a dhampir? What is that, Rule 47 of the Fanatically Juped Handbook?”

“Rule 34 actually.”

Lore chuckles. “Are you finally learning to play along?”

“Tolerate is a better description.” And further practice meditation. I’ll have to make time for it everyday at this rate, otherwise I may actually punch Lore’s front teeth out. Not that it’d be an issue for him. They’d grow back in a few hours, if not sooner, which kind of encourages me to just go through with the violent act. At least I’ll feel better.

The car comes to a stop a few minutes later in a more upscale district of the city. The brick buildings consist of the finest materials available. Windows trimmed in silver and gold while intricate metal overhangings protect guests at the front doors. Less fog overtakes the sky, cogwheels are concealed by beautiful tapestries or integrated effortlessly into the brick work while couples strut the streets in extravagant garbs, although none as garish as Lore’s. He likes the attention, I assume.

Lore informs Draven to wait at the car. He does so without question. Lore and I head into a black building trimmed in deep gold and sparkling windows that overlook a stone square. A man at the front desk explains that Confident Cases, the law firm Ayden worked at, presides on the sixth floor.

I’m once again stuck in an enclosed space with Lore. The elevator’s too small and my fingers twitch to grasp the axe on my back or the dagger at my waist. This would be the perfect spot for an ambush, a chance to betray me where I have limited movement. I steady my breathing, lessening the erratic racing of my heart. My eyes scan Lore, watching for any sign of movement. When Lore so much as twitches, I prepare myself for whatever needs to be done.

Memories of the past, of long days spent on the training field with Paladin Nallin flood my mind as they always do during troubling times. She was tough, never let up, and always ensured we understood what we were up against. That sometimes our bodies would be broken, but our minds had to be strong, so we fought through the pain of a broken limb or cracked rib out of sheer will alone. I was battered and bruised more days than not, spitting up blood while facing beasts who wanted to tear me apart. I had to tear them apart first, less they do worse to me and others. I won’t let that happen ever again.

The elevator doors open, bringing in a wave of relief. Nothing happened. Admittedly, sometimes my paranoia gets the better of me. On the battlefield it’s always better to expect the worst. I suppose I don't know how to leave that behind.

We step out into Confident Cases’ lounge area; warm in fall tones such as brown, orange, and soft red. A woman sits at the front desk appearing a little frantic with disheveled hair and crooked glasses.

“Hello.” She greets us with a smile. “My name’s Marieh, how may I help you?”

“Good morning, Marieh, my name is Lore Seymour--”

Marieh’s eyes widen to comical proportions. Her glasses nearly slip off her nose.

“And this is my associate, Seren, a paladin of the Holy Church.”

“My gosh, Your Grace, I, uh, good morning!” Marieh bows her head so low she almost slams it against the desk.

Marieh stands up right, clasping her hands in front of her and standing stiff as a board when Lore says, “We’ve come bearing unfortunate news concerning Ayden Marshalls.”

“Ayden?” She echoes, growing immediately concerned. “Is he alright? He didn’t show up for work this morning. I’ve been calling him all day.”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Marshalls passed away this morning.”

“Holy Mothers.” Marieh gapes while pressing a hand over her chest. “What… what happened?”

“Officers continue to investigate the crime scene, but there is suspicion of foul play. We’ve been sent to ask his co-workers a few questions if you wouldn’t mind making some time for us today in your busy schedule.”

“Oh, of course not, I… Ayden, wow,” she whispers, sounding genuinely surprised.

“Did you know him well?” I ask, bringing her attention to me. Her tense shoulders relax. Her fingers tinker with a familiar necklace once tucked under her blouse. Another Faithful, this interview should go smoothly.

“I’m not sure if you could call it well. Ayden has worked here for about ten years and I’ve only been here for two. We conversed like any other co-workers, asked about each other’s day or made small talk in the break room. Not much more than that,” she replies.

“Was that the usual for Ayden? Did he ever try to become closer to his coworkers?”

Marieh hums, then shakes her head. “No, he was always very quiet, polite, and reserved. Definitely a hard worker, he was much better up here than I am. He reminded us all about our appointments, easily handled affairs, and often attended business meetings with Mr. Bellvitz.”

“Mr. Bellvitz being the owner of the law firm?” Lore inquires.

Marieh nods. “Yes, oh, he’ll want to learn about this right away. We’ve all been concerned about Ayden since this morning. He never missed work before, even if he had a cold.”

“One last question, if you wouldn’t mind,” I say. “Could you think of anyone who would want to harm Ayden?”

“Certainly not,” she replies with a firm shake of her head. “Ayden never caused any trouble, well, at least not here at the office. No one here dislikes him either. Of course, I can’t speak for him outside of work, but he really did seem like a very nice man.”

Lore nods and gestures to the couches in the lounge. “We’ll have a seat while you contact Mr. Bellvitz. If he has time, we’d appreciate having a word.”

“Of course.” Marieh nods while reaching for the phone. Lore and I take a seat on the couch. Lore continues to observe the firm like he expects to find a hidden chamber filled with all the answers we seek. I, too, have always hoped to find the cheesy villain lair, but alas, it eludes the both of us.

“She seems genuine,” Lore says after a few moments. He turns his quiet gaze back on Marieh. “I didn’t sense a lie in her pulse.”

“Some people are very good at keeping themselves composed under pressure.”

“True.”

“Your Grace.” Marieh stands and gestures to a pair of double doors leading further into the office. “Mr. Bellvitz will see you now. If you’d follow me.”