Elizabeth had never seen such a cold look on his face before. His eyes that were trained on the Duke looked sharp yet hard and unforgiving, and there seemed to be a strand of vein pulsing on his fair neck.

He spoke. "It's been a while, Constantine." He stood at the end of the stairs.

Constantine Rousseau stared back at him, he did not mind the murder gleaming in Oliviér's eyes, simply smiling cheerfully.

"I haven't seen you in years, Fóix, always so busy with the next murder case, which is what I presume you are here for?"

Constantine stretched out his hand towards Oliviér, who caught the hand in a friendly shake, although Oliviér's face was not too friendly.

Oliviér suddenly broke into a laugh, his expressionless face now brimming with joy. "Ah, Constantine, don't be ridiculous, can I not visit a friend anymore?" 

"I have been in Ayhorn District for months now, Oliviér, you've never stopped to visit before," Constantine let go of Oliviér's hand, walking over to the table.

Oliviér huffed. "Then forgive my callousness…. Although I see you are still playing…. Human?" Oliviér's eyes followed his movement.

As Constantine dropped the pot on the table his lips curled up into a small smile. Elizabeth felt a ghostly chill on her body then in shock watched the black eyes of the Duke turn into bloodshot eyes.

Thin veins ran up his neck and then attached themselves to his eyeballs. As if they were pumping blood into his eyes his black eyes were filled with blood, a frightening amount of blood that made his black eyes bloodshot, leaving thin veins underneath his eyes.

Elizabeth's heart pumped. He was a War Wolf? He was the Master of this Villa? The Duke of the Rousseau Duchy, Constantine Rousseau?

Elizabeth swallowed. She did not want to lose her head at nineteen. She should have listened to her Mother and baptized herself in the name of Mother Earth to remove the bad luck on her head!

"I was simply distracted, your assistant here has quite the character on her." Constantine said, leaning his back against the table.

Elizabeth froze, her blue eyes glancing at Oliviér from the corner. She never knew that she would lose her job this way.

"Elizabeth can be like that, such an interesting character, it's why I employed her," Oliviér's face gave away nothing of how he felt.

Elizabeth bit on the corner of inside her mouth, eyebrows stretching into a frown.

"Of all the people you have worked with, Oliviér, she is the first to ever make me smile. Tell you what, how about you release her to me? She would be quite the refreshment in the Villa."

Elizabeth's hand began to shake, and her jaw dropped. What? What did he mean by releasing her to him? You couldn't just give people out like that!

She watched Oliviér's red lips hook into a smile. "If I asked you to give your sister to me would you?" Oliviér asked with a nice tone.

Perhaps almost too nice.

Constantine flashed him his own smile. "Of course not, Oliviér, do not be ridiculous," his tone was as nice as Oliviér's.

Elizabeth felt as if she was watching two peas in a pot talk.

"Etu strav nichol," Said Oliviér in a language Elizabeth did not understand.

"Jer," Constantine replied.

Although their tones were calm and even nice, Elizabeth felt the air thicken dangerously. It felt hot and choking in her throat.

She finally said something. "Ehm sir," The Duke blinked, and darted his bloodshot eyes at her. "The thing is right now I might not be able to pay for the broken things, but I swear I'll definitely make it up when I receive my salary."

Constantine arched an eyebrow. "Pay four thousand five hundred pounds?"

Elizabeth choked on saliva, and looked away. What was this hot pot of bad luck brewing on her head?

"My assistant has slippery hands but she is not always…. Destructive, I will handle the bill," Oliviér cut in, tone as if the amount was nothing.

Elizabeth stared at her Superior with a proud look on her face that she did not know she had. Oh, blessed are the rich. Look at how he spoke of four thousand five hundred pounds as if it was two shillings? Anywhere you were it was always good to have a golden thigh to hold onto!

"How generous, Oliviér,"

"A Superior must care for his junior of course." Oliviér's voice had suddenly seemed snippy.

The Duke kept his smile. "Come Oliviér, let's continue our conversation in my office."

The Duke began climbing the stairs. 

Oliviér walked beside Elizabeth. "I swear I can not leave you alone without fearing a heart attack." Oliviér muttered.

Elizabeth's cheek turned red. This was a very embarrassing situation.

They reached the office, but Elizabeth felt that her lungs had been cut off with how large this house was. Every room was at least a mile away from each other.

They entered the chill room. It was designed eloquently and every piece of furniture looked exquisite. It looked like the Duke was very expensive.

"So why has Oliviér Lé Fóix come to visit me?" Constantine asked, pouring a glass of white wine into two glass cups.

Oliviér said nothing, only walking towards a chair, and shamelessly making himself comfortable. He gestured at Elizabeth to take a seat on the chair next to him with his eyes.

Elizabeth stiffly took a seat next to him, feeling explicitly out of place in the fancy room. 

"I received word that you may or may not have information on one Gentry Galloway." Oliviér announced.

Constantine looked down at his desk for a moment before looking back at Oliviér. "This…. What about Gentry Galloway would you like to know?"

Oliviér relaxed back on his seat. "So you do know a Gentry Galloway?"

Constantine sighed and then took a seat on his chair. "I receive over two hundred thousand entries per month, concerning different people, and these entries are only for places of importance in Ayhorn.

But there was a particular entry that was interesting to me. "

Oliviér jolted his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because the Entry keeper added a letter to this Entry. He said one Gentry Galloway was caught by one of his spies using something closely Similar to Source Magic."

Elizabeth gasped. Using source magic? Like her.

"So Gentry Galloway was caught using Forbidden Magic? Where?" Oliviér was not surprised.

"At an elitist Gambling joint." Constantine shrugged.

"Well if Gentry Galloway was caught using Source Magic why did you not have him arrested?" Oliviér probed.

Constantine sighed once more, leaning back against the chair he replied. "Because Gentry Galloway died the next day."

*AUTHOR'S BLURB

Oliviér and Constantine were speaking Harian, the lower dialect.

Etu strav nichol: Then let's be amicable.

Jer: Of course/ Okay/ Yes.

Hugging onto a golden thigh: It was an expression which meant depending shamelessly on someone of a higher power.