Alaric stared at the letter before him, unsure of how to react. 

   "What did it say?" Adrian asked, leaning against the wall beside the bedroom door. He noticed small twitches jumping in Alaric's wings, which hung neatly behind him. He suppressed a small grin.  

   "It's an invitation to her funeral," he replied. "How the hell do they expect me to do that?" One week ago, the day after Rosaline's death, he had written a letter to the Wimseys expressing his condolences. It was an awkward letter, and certainly not something he was exactly used to, so he didn't really expect a response. And yet, here it was, in the form of an invitation. The edges were adorned with several rose prints, lined with gold and pink. It was the same pink as her gown the night of the ball.

   "And even if I were to attend," he continued, "I would end up grabbing all the attention just because I'm me. Not exactly the best move for a funeral." He slid the card back into the envelope and set it on his desk, crossing his arms. "Who knows if Mum would let me?"

   "Well, going would definitely leave a good impression on the people, right? Isn't that what she wants?" Adrian replied. Alaric shrugged. His left wing bounced absently as he thought. His eyes snapped up, and his wings froze as an idea surfaced. 

   "Wait. I've got an idea." He turned towards the door and headed to the sunroom. What if I went undercover again? I could do it so much better this time. He went for the door.

   "Where are you going?" Adrian called as he headed out into the halls.

   "You'll see. I'll get back to you in a moment," he called back, just before disappearing around a corner. 

   "Wait, I'm your valet. It's my job to walk you around," he called after him, jogging to catch up.

❦ 

   Days later, it was the morning of the funeral. The Palace hadn't allowed him to go alone, so Alaric went with a guard, much to his disappointment. They were incognito again, but this time, Alaric knew what he was doing. 

   It was freezing outside, the grey sky threatening snow as it always did, though it was a rare sight. Still, being out in the open sent waves of thrill through his chest despite the situation. He glanced over at the guard, who stood tall and menacing, though his expression didn't seem fully serious. He looked tired rather than solemn, which Alaric couldn't blame him for, but it didn't seem quite right for an appointed, high-rank guard. He grimaced and shook away the thought.

   He tried to discreetly stretch his wings as he realized just how much he truly hadn't missed the binding cloth, though it oddly kept him warm. He wore a hooded scarf to hide his ears better, and fiddled endlessly with the fabric. He would have to bury his mouth in it when he spoke, he realized. He suppressed a groan. Why do I have to keep putting up with this?

   The funeral was being held in a small temple not far from the palace. He practically melted in relief as he welcomed the warmth inside, but his chest tightened when he saw a couple in the foyer. It was the same couple he had seen at the ball- her parents. Oh, dear Divine. Save me.

   But what did he expect? They were her parents.

   Dumbass.

   The mother's eyes were puffy as if she had been crying, and the sight made his heart sink. He quietly approached them. 

   "Mornin'. I assume you two are Miss and Mister Wimsey?" he said, keeping his head low as he tugged the scarf over his mouth. The guard hung behind him, his gaze looming over them. He ignored it as he pulled the invitation from the coat pocket. 

   "Yes. Have we met you before?" The man spoke slowly, narrowing his eyes. Alaric hesitated, then pulled the scarf back to reveal one of his ears. The man's eyes widened, eyebrows raised as he drew in a breath to speak. 

   "Don't say anything," Alaric cut in, his voice dropping. "This is meant to be about her, after all." He tried to smile warmly, and the man nodded, regaining his composure. He offered his hand, and Alaric shook it. Despite the social act he was putting on, the man looked worn, almost numb. 

   "Felix," he said. "This is my wife, Frances. It's an honor." He nudged her arm, and she looked up, lips parted as if she had just returned from a daydream. She must have it rough, Alaric thought. She just lost her daughter, after all. 

   "No worries," he said. "I understand."

   Throughout the ceremony, he kept his head bowed and his mouth shut as he ignored the stares he got. It was probably because he was an unfamiliar face, but it still left his nerves on edge. 

   When he visited her casket, she was just as pretty as before. The colors were drained from her lips, and her skin was tinted green, but she otherwise looked the same. She wore the same dress as before, same bows and everything, and roses were left all around her and in her hair, worn in the same lomg, intricate locs. She was young, with a life full of potential and art and fashion.

   But now, her utter stillness was unnerving.

   A stray petal was left over her eye, and he brushed it away, watching it fall beside her face. His finger grazed her skin, and he nearly shuddered at the unnatural coolness of it. 

   Nothing mattered anymore. She's gone, and there was nothing that could be done. The thought left him nauseated as he left the temple after the ceremony's end. 

   He was going to find out a way to prove the killer guilty, Amelia or not.

   Even if it was the last thing keeping him alive. 

❦

   "Thanks for tagging along," Adrian said, his breath fogging at his lips. "You really don't know how much you're saving me." Belle chuckled, and it was the first time he had heard her laugh openly. 

   "No worries. It's nice to go out sometimes, anyways."

   Since Alaric would be gone for a few hours, Adrian found it to be the perfect time for him to get a fake date to appease his mother and her endless questions about getting a girlfriend. He could just tell them a few days later that it didn't work out, and he would be fine save for the tiny pangs of guilt that came with deceiving his parents. 

   So here they were, aimlessly roaming the markets to kill time. 

   A stand nearby had sizzling skewers of meat. Another had baskets filled with peaches and grapes and produce of all kinds, with a young man shouting for customers. Another had jars of jam and tea leaves beside a woman in red. The markets were bustling and alive as usual, the air filled with all sorts of aromas. 

   "I remember coming here sometimes with Amelia," said Belle, fidgeting with the heavy ring on her finger. She frowned, crossing her arms over her middle instead. Adrian took notice and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

   "About that... Do you know exactly why she hates me?"

   "Amy is definitely... A complicated person," she replied, now toying with the fabric of her skirt. "But you must know, there has always been gossip about how you got your job here." 

   "Oh, I'm aware." I've been called out for nepotism too many times to count. "But it just feels... Personal, coming from her." She paused before responding. 

   "I'm not entirely sure about that."

   Sure you aren't. But I won't pry.

   As they moved to the other side of the market, there were less stands and more proper shops- food and produce were on the east side to be closer to the farms. 

   He recognized a small store from his childhood. It was a jewelry store, selling handmade pieces with false gems, run by a woman named Mya. Adrian smiled at the thought of her- he could practically smell the herbs she kept in the back of the shop and hear her open laugh. 

   "Hey, can I stop by that shop for a minute?" he asked, partly to break the silence. Since he works so often, he hardly gets the chance to see her- it's been a few months since the last time he'd visited. 

   "That jewelry store?" said Belle. "Sure, but I didn't know you were the type that liked jewelry." Adrian shrugged. "Long story."

   Together, they entered the shop, a bell ringing as the door swung. The shop wasn't incredibly large or new, but the large windows let the hundreds of pieces of jewelry on several tables shine like chandeliers. One off to the side held several stands holding necklaces dotted with colorful stones. Another held bracelets, some of leather, some of gold, and another held boxes filled with rings of all kinds.

   While Belle was busy marvelling at the glittering pieces, a woman with a blue hijab and gold hoop earrings stuck her head out from a door in the back of the store. Mya. 

   "Adrian!" she gasped, jogging over to meet him with a grin spread across her face. "Adrian, honey, have you gotten taller again?" she said, hands on his shoulders. "Dear, when was the last time I saw you?"

   "Missed you, too, Ms. Mya," Adrian said, bringing his hands to her wrists, which were banded with hoops and cords as well. Her fingers were no different, dotted with rings. 

   A woman can never have too much jewelry, she had once said when he was younger. Especially if you run a shop like mine. 

   She glanced over and noticed Belle, who stood quietly behind Adrian, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. 

   "Oh, who's this gem that you've brought?" she said, prodding at his arm. Adrian breathed a small laugh and rolled his eyes. 

   "This is my friend, Belle," he answered. "From work." In truth, Mya was already well aware of just about everything Adrian had gone through, including his situation with Alaric.  

   She could probably already tell it was a fake date, based on the knowing glance she threw his way, briefly tinged with concern.

   Oblivious, Belle nodded and smiled, tucking a stray stand of hair behind her ear with a ringed finger. 

   "Hang on," said Mya, catching her hand. Belle stared blankly at her. 

   "I commissioned this for a client," she continued. "Ah, what was her name? The pretty young blonde? She'a got a matching one, right?" A crease formed between Adrian's eyebrows, and Belle's gaze dropped to her feet.

   The door swung open behind them, making both of them jump, and an older couple walked in. She switched to her usual polite, rehearsed enthusiasm she would perform for guests, welcoming them in. 

   "Sorry, honey, but I need to handle this- busy hours and all. But stop by when you get off later today, can you? I'll be here," she whispered to Adrian. "I need to talk to you about something."

   Adrian nodded, and muttered a goodbye as he and Belle stepped out of the shop. 

   "It was nice meeting you, honey," she called after Belle, who smiled and waved as the door closed behind them. 

   "Sorry I dragged you into that," Adrian muttered, when they were a few paces away, stepping back into the hushed crowd. "She's an old friend I don't get to see often." They started to stroll aimlessly, like fish going along with a current. 

   "No worries," Belle replied, glancing back at the shop. "How do you know her?" Belle asked. "If you don't mind me asking, that is." Adrian paused for a heartbeat before answering. "Really long story from when I was a kid." She hummed in response, and her finger driftes to her ring as she ran her thumb across the faces of the jewel. 

   "Us as kids... It's interesting to think about."

   Right. Adrian hummed, running a hand through his cowlick, a persistent swoop of dark hair.

   She slipped her ring off, then slipped it on again, as if it didn't feel quite right.

   "So. Amelia got you that ring?" he asked, partway out of curiosity, and partway to diverge the conversation. His words ended up more pointed than he had intended, perhaps at the mentioning of her name.

   "Oh, yes. She has a matching one," she replied. Adrian cringed, but looked away before he thought she could notice. She let out a tiny sigh. 

   "Honestly... I don't actually like it, and I think everybody feels the same," she admitted, folding her arms over her stomach. "But I feel so obligated to wear it."

   "I understand that. You shouldn't have to, though."

   She shifted, then hummed. "It's complicated," she said with a shrug, jaw growing tense again. 

   Adrian drew in a breath to speak, but was distracted by an older man nearby, running a small stand. As meats and vegetables of all sorts on skewers sizzled over pans, he called out for different orders among a small crowd. They must have circled around and ended up where they began.

   "Shall we get something to eat?" Adrian said instead, smiling over at Belle, who briefly paused before returning a small grin- it was genuine, as far as he could tell, based on the stiffness leaving her shoulders and the slight flush of her pale skin. 

   "Absolutely."

❦