Priscilla woke up as she was unceremoniously kicked off the bed.

She blinked in surprise at the sight of the ceiling far above her, then sat up and glared at Illnyea. Illnyea seemed to be sleeping peacefully if you discounted the fact that she was horizontal on the bed, the offending foot dangling off the side.

With a deep sigh, Priscilla stood up and stretched her back. She had forgotten that one of Illnyea's little quirks was that if you shared a bed with her, you'd wake up with bruises in odd places as Illnyea spread out like an octopus with tentacles made of steel.

It took Priscilla having to jump on the bed for Illnyea to finally rouse from sleep and they got ready for the day in companionable silence, since Illnyea was too sleepy for conversation and Priscilla's mind was focused on what she wanted to ask of Mr. Ordan.

They met up with the boys for breakfast, which was a delicious savory cheese pastry with exquisitely fluffy, flakey layers that was like heaven in your mouth, especially when you put a spoonful of jam on top of it. It was absolutely decadent but Priscilla limited herself to just two before speaking.

"Illnyea and I have some things we need to talk about with Mr. Ordan today," Priscilla said, wiping her fingertips on a cloth napkin, "so you two are going to have to entertain yourself for an hour or two."

Sulaiman raised an eyebrow, asking the question without speaking.

"Family stuff," Priscilla said lightly and Sulaiman's face relaxed in understanding as he nodded.

Kavil eyed the two of them before asking, "Sulaiman, have you finished the book you've been reading?"

Sulaiman paused, and shook his head, looking confused by the non sequitur.

"Then while those two yap," Kavil said, gesturing at Illnyea and Priscilla with a smile that softened his words, "you and I should go enjoy the garden – there's a beautiful tree I bet would be great to read under."

"And what would you be doing?" Sulaiman asked, though he didn't seem opposed to the idea.

"Eh," Kavil said with a shrug, "I'll figure something out. Just being outside in the sun is nice."

"Then it's settled," Illnyea said, nodding firmly. "You two go have fun in the sun and we'll find you later."

Mr. Ordan proved he had impeccable timing, walking down the stairs right as Illnyea and Priscilla entered the foyer.

"You're exactly the man we were hoping to see," Priscilla said.

Mr. Ordan's bushy eyebrows raised. "What do you need me for?"

"We were hoping to ask you some questions," Illnyea said, adding quickly, "In private if that's possible."

Mr. Ordan looked slowly between them, before slowly nodding.

"If you wish for privacy," Mr. Ordan said, turning on his heel, "then we can use my room – no one shall disturb us there."

He led them down a hall on the first floor on the east side of the manor, to a tucked away corner. Priscilla wondered why he was so far from his employer's rooms but grew distracted as they entered into Mr. Ordan's room.

It was smaller than Priscilla's rooms by a large margin, but still large enough for a bed, a dark gray armoire, two books shelves full of books, a small table with fresh flowers in a vase in its center, and two chairs. The room was cozy and well lived in without feeling overly cramped and had a plush carpet lining the floor that must be amazing during winter. Atop the armoire was an ornate golden clock with finely etched carvings of a long, winding dragon along its side. The steady ticking of the clock filled the quiet as they closed their door behind them.

Priscilla smiled when she saw the little wooden octopus she had gotten the butler with its limbs carefully arranged so it looked like it was waving but she paused as her eyes caught sight of a picture frame next to it.

Inside the frame was a finely drawn portrait of two young men. The taller of the two men had a sword strapped to his side and his arm looped around the other's waist, mischief in his eyes as he threatened to pull them both off balance. The other man clutched at the swordsman's shoulders, his face caught between sternness and a laugh as he leaned back so they didn't fall, and with a start, Priscilla realized that that was a younger Mr. Ordan, sans a beard and roughly thirty years of age. There was a leather necklace in front of the photo, with a thick ring made of black metal looped through it.

When Priscilla looked up, she saw that Mr. Ordan had caught her staring. His eyes went soft and wistful as he followed her gaze and when he smiled, there was a sad tint to it.

"Who's that in the photo with you?" Priscilla asked before her mind could think better of it.

Mr. Ordan walked towards the picture, adjusting the necklace in front so that the cord was in a perfect spiral.

"His name was Kai," Mr. Ordan said, voice quiet, "and he was a very dear friend. This was drawn for us as a gift just after my twenty-second birthday."

The way he spoke was heavy with remembrance and quiet grief. When Mr. Ordan said Kai's name, it was said in reverence, like he was savoring the way it felt in his mouth, like he hadn't had the chance to speak it for a long time.

Mr. Ordan looked up, shaking away the sadness with a shake of his head. "But we're not here to talk about him, I'm almost certain. Please, sit."

He gestured at the table for them as he tucked his hands behind his back, his posture stiff as a ruler.

Curiosity burned in Priscilla's chest but she held back the temptation to pry because she was fairly certain that this Kai fellow was very much dead and prodding at old wounds would derail the conversation.

Priscilla sat with Illnyea, fingers tapping as she thought over how to broach the topic.

"I need to know what my parents' goals in life are," Illnyea said, as gentle as a boulder hurtled from a catapult, "and we were hoping you'd be able to tell us what you know."

Mr. Ordan blinked, his head tilting thoughtfully. "What exactly do you mean?"

"Give us the dirty details, their faults, flaws, and fuckups," Priscilla said, jumping in since Illnyea ripped off the bandage, "because we need to know how best to twist their arm so Illnyea can leave."

The butler stilled, even his breathing pausing for a moment before he looked very seriously at Illnyea.

"Miss Illnyea, are you thinking of following Priscilla down the path of being disinherited?" Mr. Ordan asked, his voice neutral and free of any judgment.

Illnyea opened her mouth, closed it, and sighed, running a finger over a knot in the wooden table.

"I don't know but, maybe? Right now all I know is that I can't stay in this manor any longer because…"

Priscilla reached over and gently squeezed Illnyea's hand when she faltered and bit her lip in frustration.

Illnyea took a deep breath and said, "I don't think I can trust my parents any more."

There was something terribly sad that settled onto Mr. Ordan's face as he looked at Illnyea and Priscilla in turn, like he was mourning something. He took a deep breath and sat upon the edge of his bed, the emotion disappearing as resolution took its place.

"I admit, I am unsure where to start and I do not know many of their secrets," Mr. Ordan said, "but I will tell you what I can."

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"Who are they meeting right now?" Illnyea asked, the question tumbling out like it burned her tongue.

"They did not mention the name of their business partner," Mr. Ordan said after he thought for a moment, pursing his lips, "but I believe the merchant has ties to Aswar based on what I've heard."

Priscilla tapped her fingers against the table as she took that information in. From what she could recall, the country of Aswar was best known for their jewels and their silk monopoly – both high quality products that could turn out a big profit. Especially since it seemed like the Thornewoods had a connection with Arnold, an enchanter who could increase the products' price exponentially.

"And how has their business been doing lately?" Priscilla asked. "Any troubles popping up?"

Again, Mr. Ordan didn't answer immediately, instead taking the time to think over his answer fully before speaking.

"How aware are you two of international politics?" Mr. Ordan asked.

Priscilla was taken aback by the question and glanced at Illnyea, who seemed equally confused. Everything that Priscilla knew was from TDE and the plot hadn't even begun yet, so it might not even be relevant.

Mr. Ordan chuckled.

"I'll take that as not very," Mr. Ordan said before straightening. "The Thornewood's primary trading partners hail from the Oshad Confederacy. But the trade routes between Kavendash and the Confederacy have been unstable lately due to a variety of factors. One of which is that an earthquake occurred a month ago and shut down the direct path between the countries that cut through the Muloi mountains. I've heard that bandits have been plaguing merchants that have been taking the longer path around the mountains, which increases the risk for merchants and makes every trip more expensive because you need adequate protection in the form of personal guards, adventurers, or mercenaries.

"In addition," Mr. Ordan continued and, man, Priscilla did wish she brought a notepad to write all of this down, "the Confederacy's chancellor elections are next year and based on what I've gathered, it's going to be a fierce battle in more ways than one. There are three factions: Earl Kerensa, whose house has held the chancellorship for the last decade and controls much of the country's grain storage; Marquess Aliraal, who hails from a line of generals and was the chancellor during the Muloian rebellion; and Viscount Millgard, who boasts the maritime forces. Things are tense in the country, and trade may become even more unstable if not cease completely which will only make the conflict worse."

"How do you know all of this?" Priscilla asked, a little awed by how easily the butler spouted off the information as easily as he did the dinner menu.

Mr. Ordan shot Priscilla an amused look. "Priscilla, I was born in the Confederacy. I still have acquaintances there who deign to send me letters on occasion."

Priscilla abruptly felt very stupid. "Ah…"

With a chuckle, Mr. Ordan said, "I don't speak of it much, so I understand how it might have slipped your mind."

"So business is bad?" Illnyea said, getting them back on track.

"It isn't bad per se," Mr. Ordan said, leaning back, "but with the recent instability with the trade routes, it definitely has slowed. I suspect their current business trip is their attempt to find ways to make up for lost profits. With the…" Mr. Ordan swallowed, glancing sympathetically at Illnyea. "The destruction of the caravan you were traveling with, they may need to pursue such avenues more aggressively."

Illnyea nodded as she rubbed her chin in thought, brows coming together in concentration. Priscilla sat back in her chair, considering what they've been told. The fact that the Thornewood's business may be struggling was an important card in their hand, but Priscilla wasn't sure how she wanted to play it quite yet, though she was able to discard several of her tentative plans.

"You've known them for twenty years now," Priscilla said, tapping her finger slightly faster, "so, in your opinion, what drives Idalah and Cian Thornewood? What made you want to work for them in the first place?"

Mr. Ordan adjusted the edge of his sleeves as he thought, a frown pulling his bushy brows down.

"The reason I first began working for the Thornewoods," Mr. Ordan began slowly, "was because I trusted they would keep their word. Cian was a first generation merchant and during the rebellion, he had managed to carve out a small niche in the market in Meadowyar specializing in providing quality weapons for common folk caught up in the conflict. Idalah handled the front-facing part of the business, softening Cian's ruthless edge, and they had gained the reputation for keeping their promises. Back then, I… Well, I needed stability and had little more than the clothes on my back. I had only been in Kavendash a year and didn't have an extensive work history, but they decided to take a chance upon me because of my abilities as a scribe and experience with children."

Mr. Ordan's gaze strayed to Priscilla, an unreadable expression momentarily gracing his face before he shook it off.

"For Cian, I would say that profit drives him above all else," Mr. Ordan continued, "as he wants to prove that despite being a first generation merchant that he's just as worthy of respect of those with more illustrious heritages. He responds best to proposals that make it seem like it was his idea all along and I've seen Idalah employ such tactics successfully against him before. But, as to what drives Idalah, it's hard to say. She is the calmer half of their marriage and is better at hiding her true feelings, as she handles the trickier clients. But if I must hazard a guess… I would say she's similar to Cian in that she values her legacy most."

"What?" Illnyea asked, golden eyes narrowed like she couldn't believe it.

"She has never stated as such to me," Mr. Ordan said slowly, "but based on passing comments, I believe that… her childhood was not a kind one and that she may be the last surviving member of her family."

Priscilla hummed. It was easy to push away the curiosity about what had killed the Sunscarre family because while it was a sad story and may explain why Idalah was so strange, it was not an excuse for Idalah's actions. Plenty of people were orphans in the world and plenty of those orphans treated their children as precious gifts because of what they had gone through.

"So you're saying if we convince Idalah," Priscilla said as the idea started to come together in her mind, shaping up into something that might just work, "then we can use her to get Cian on board?"

Mr. Ordan hesitated before nodding. "If Cian doesn't catch onto the manipulation, it should work."

"One last question, and then I have an idea I want to bounce off the two of you."

Priscilla asked her question and got just the answer she was looking for. Her mouth stretched into a toothy grin. She explained the plan she had concocted and both Mr. Ordan and Illnyea stared at her like she had grown a second head.

"I don't want that much responsibility on my shoulders," Illnyea said, wrinkling her nose in displeasure. Priscilla acknowledged that statement with a nod, but kept her gaze on Mr. Ordan, who had gone quiet in his contemplation. He glanced briefly at the picture on the armoire with a conflicted expression before straightening.

"If you will allow me," Mr. Ordan said, his eyes clear and determined, "I would do it in your stead, Miss Illnyea."

Illnyea's jaw dropped. "But I couldn't ask you – "

"And you haven't," Mr. Ordan said, politely cutting off Illnyea's argument. "I am offering." Mr. Ordan glanced once more at the picture before smiling ruefully. "Besides, I think it would do my old bones good to travel farther than Meadowyar's borders once more."

Illnyea stared at Mr. Ordan and then looked at Priscilla like she expected Priscilla to stop this.

But, honestly, Mr. Ordan's enthusiastic cooperation made this crazy scheme actually possible because that part of the plan would have been the hardest to actually execute.

"It's good to have an experienced man like you on-board, Mr. Ordan," Priscilla said, reaching out her hand to shake on it. "It makes things a hell of a lot easier."

Mr. Ordan shook his head with a huff of laughter but reached out and shook it firmly before offering his hand to Illnyea. Illnyea looked between them like she couldn't quite believe what was happening but sighed, as if giving up, and shook the proffered hand.

"Now then," Mr. Ordan said, standing and assuming his dignified posture like he wasn't planning to undermine his employers, "I believe there are a great many things we need to get ready if we want this venture to work."

"That we do," Priscilla said, standing up and smoothing out the wrinkles in her pants. She held out a hand to help Illnyea up and her sister took it, shaking her head.

"I don't know how you come up with stuff like this so quickly," Illnyea said, eyeing Priscilla like she was trying to read her mind.

Priscilla shrugged. "Scheming is fun and it's even better when I can screw over assholes."

That startled a laugh out of Illnyea as Mr. Ordan opened the door, and Priscilla swore she even spotted a small, mean smile flash across the butler's face before it smoothed into neutral professionalism.

"I'll probably draft up the contracts," Priscilla said as they strolled to the foyer, "and Illnyea you ought to help me so you know how best to present it when they return – it'll make things hit them all the worse if it's said in your sweet voice."

Illnyea's nose wrinkled again but she nodded despite her obvious distaste for the task.

"And Mr. Ordan, while you're scurrying about in town," Priscilla said, "do you want to do something crazy?"

Mr. Ordan raised one eyebrow, as if concerned about what was about to leave her mouth but he tentatively nodded his head.

"You should try and convince Arnold to join us," Priscilla said with a grin. "You'll need playmates your own age so you won't get too sick of us."

Unexpectedly, Mr. Ordan stilled at that comment, his face falling blank. Before Priscilla could wonder just how she misstepped or could take back the offer, something melancholic settled onto his features.

"Perhaps I will," Mr. Ordan said quietly.

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