Eli pushed himself off the dirt. Beside him, Juli mirrored the movement, her golden sword unleashed of its sheath. The lazy droop of the spar’s afterglow vanished from their shoulders.

Neither of them needed to say a word. Gillian, the florist, had told them midnight, and Gillian had delivered, just as promised.

They arrived at the back gate within a few steps. Eli set a hand on the latch and lifted it.

The man on the other side was middle-aged and plainly dressed, holding a slim parcel against his chest.

"Monsieur Gillian sends his regards, per the agreement."

He extended the parcel.

Juli stepped forward, took the package, and opened it to check the contents for anything suspicious. Satisfied, she gave Eli a nod and fell back behind him.

He took the parcel from Juli, weighed it briefly in his palm, and offered the courier a small nod.

"Received. Please pass our thanks to Monsieur Gillian."

Eli moved to close the gate, expecting the man to bow off and disappear, but he stayed put instead. His hands clasped neatly in front of his stomach with his eyes lowered, his posture as patient as a man waiting for tea.

Eli blinked, pausing with the latch still warm under his fingers. Most couriers would just walk away the second the package left their hands. This one looked like he intended to root himself in the doorway.

’Uh... hello? Your job’s done, Mister! You can head on home.’

Eli swallowed the line down and went with a polite tilt of his head instead.

"Was there something else?"

The man bowed his head about an inch.

"Per his instructions, I am to remain at your disposal until your reply is in my hand. The letter is of paramount importance, while the payment can be deferred to a later date."

’Right, the letter.’

Gillian risked his life to secure the one and only clue about Black Rose’s Master. It showed just how urgent this was.

The Church of the Red Moon did not forgive "transgressions" like these. And while they weren’t a major player right now because most of the high-ranking members went into hiding, they still puppeteered many of the tragedies behind the scenes.

Eli’s eyes flicked back to the courier still standing at the gate.

"Understood. The reply will be in your hand once the contents are verified. Wait here, if you would."

The man dipped his head once, content to wait however long it took.

Eli pulled the gate shut and slid the latch where it belonged. He turned to Juli with the parcel tucked tight against his chest.

"Let’s get this upstairs."

Juli was already heading inside the inn. Eli followed close behind. The lantern guttered as they passed the second floor’s hallway, and the door of their rented room clicked open under Juli’s palm.

He set the parcel down on the nightstand, beside the wine package and the clay bowls. Taking off his coat, he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed.

Juli slid the scabbard off her belt and placed the sword safely on the bed. Then, she unbuckled the leather strap and tossed the whole thing onto the chair.

"What are you expecting from these documents?"

Eli lifted his chin toward Juli and shrugged.

"I’m not sure myself. It’s a shot in the dark."

She jumped onto the mattress, her body sinking in slowly.

"Would it ease this worry of yours?"

"We’ll see."

Eli pulled the parcel onto his lap and broke the wax seal with his thumb. The wrapping fell open in three soft folds.

Inside were three things: a folded letter sealed with the same wine-red wax, a thicker bundle of papers secured with a cord, and a single sheet folded into quarters.

Eli picked up the letter first and cracked the seal. He unfolded it against his knee, the meticulous care evident in his fingertips.

The penmanship was tight and clipped, the work of a man who favored speed over ornate. A single line sat at the very top of the page: "Please read the ledger first, then the map, and burn this note when you are done."

Eli folded the cover note and set it aside.

He pulled the bundle of papers onto his lap and slid the cord off.

The ledger spilled into his hands in nine pages of dense entries, each line dated and noted with a short observation. It was basically a working surveillance log. Despite selling their non-disclosure service — at a sky-high cost, no less — Black Rose decided to shadow and write everything down anyway.

’What cunning bastards... They know someone would buy this information for more.’

Business was business. Eli couldn’t blame them for seeing a trail of money where they could profit from.

He skimmed the pages with his eyes flicking from line to line.

"South gate... wine warehouse... east road."

Juli squirmed over to his side and peeked at the ledger.

"Well?"

Eli let out a slow breath and set the bundle of papers on the nightstand.

"I’m certain now."

"Of what?"

"An attack on Florentine and the estate."

Juli pushed up onto her elbow, eyes flicking rapidly from his face to the ledger.

"What!? How sure—"

"Let me explain."

Eli turned to Juli, her eyes shifted like unsettled water, hands clutching the bedsheets.

"No, this one cannot be explained."

He retracted his words. Realistically, there was absolutely no concrete evidence pointing towards an attack. Without his status as House Lagranche’s lady’s maid, nobody would believe him — they would certainly call him crazy.

Eli needed a failsafe in case Juli became suspicious of him.

"Everything until now has been my intuition pushing me to prevent the worst-case scenario: the visit from Edmond Belcourt, the shabby marriage offer, Madame Joanne packing for the capital in two days, the cloaked men buying Black Rose’s silence, the ruthlessness of Duchess Ambrosia. Each piece kept poking at the back of my head, Juli."

His gaze flicked to the ledger.

"That ledger just stitched everything together for me. It detailed suspicious movements I’d never seen in all my years entrusted with the House’s operations."

Juli sat up slowly, her fingers drifting to rest on his thigh.

"I mean, Elise... your intuition has never been wrong. That’s why Her Ladyship and the Young Miss trusted every one of your decisions."

She exhaled, folded forward, and buried her face in her hands.

"So the Duchess is finally making her final move."