Chapter XVI: Repine

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“I can’t imagine killing me would end well for you⁠ ⁠—⁠ or accomplish your goals, for that matter,” Adwyn said, peering down at me with a look of patience and recognition⁠ ⁠—⁠ as if he’d had this conversation before.
In front of me the orange drake flicked his tongue.  I had to look up to meet eye with him, and I broke it just as quick.  “Granted you even had it in you to do it⁠ ⁠—⁠ and you don’t⁠ ⁠—⁠ you wouldn’t survive my assassination.  And if those two conditions didn’t hold, I⁠ ⁠—⁠ personally⁠ ⁠—⁠ wouldn’t recommend this.  And not simply because my life is in question, either.”  He paused.  “Can you tell me why? What purpose could it serve?”
I looked up⁠ ⁠—⁠ further up, at the sky.  “Well… like I said, Highness Ashaine sent me here to gain influence over the faer, and I sorta…  completely failed at that.  They⁠ ⁠—⁠ he wants faster results, and um… you have the most influence over the faer.  So with you out–out of the dance, I would have an easier time.”
The orange drake shook his head.  “I suppose that would show the ignorance of the Specters.  Or their utter disregard for your life.  I am hardly the one Mlaen likes⁠ ⁠—⁠ no, loves⁠ ⁠—⁠ most of all.  And there is no chance of you influencing or even breathing upon the one whom she cherishes.  Your efforts would be in vain.”

Chapter XIV: Concede

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“The bodies are gone?” I said with a snap of my tongue. “Where did they go?”
Adwyn was still prodding the tarp in front of us, and still speaking, thinking aloud, “These are sandbags, decoys.”
The orange drake, face hidden behind a dust mask, turned from the cart. When he did, every careless scale had been shed. This Adwyn, I could imagine, was the last thing Raganari had seen before her end. “We have been robbed,” he said.

Chapter XIII: Suspect

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“The bodies need to be guarded,” the pink-scaled guard was saying to Adwyn, “don’t they?  You’re plenty big and strong sure, but I can watch your back.”
Didn’t they hear me? “Who are you?” I asked again, a bit higher. I stood somewhere behind Adwyn, beside Digrif, but I knew they could hear me.
The short, mouse-like dragon at last glanced over, frowned, and tossed me a, “Ceian,” before turning back to the schizon-clad adviser.
Hinte stood beside the orange drake. “Do we need a little fledgling slowing us down?”
The guard glanced at her, and his frills popped open and there may have been a gasp or mutter.  “You’re the alchemist’s spawn!” they said, and stepped back.