Aldric returned to Selene's establishment the next morning to report his success. She received him in the parlor, her expression curious.
"Well? Did you get what you needed?"
"I did," Aldric said. "Route Two, through the warehouse district. Twenty guards, four mages. Departure at dawn in five days, arrival at the northern warehouse by mid-morning."
Selene's eyebrows rose. "Impressive. I wasn't sure you'd actually pull it off. How did you manage it?"
Aldric explained how he'd infiltrated the reception, picked the lock on the logistics office, and hidden in the cabinet while the officials discussed the shipment. Selene listened with growing amusement.
"You picked a lock? With no training?"
"I read about it once," Aldric said, a bit defensively.
Selene laughed. "You're either incredibly lucky or incredibly resourceful. Probably both. All right, you've earned my respect. And my help, when you need it again. Though I'm starting to think you might not need it as much as I thought."
"I'll always need allies," Aldric said. "This city is too dangerous to navigate alone."
"Wise words," Selene said. She rose and crossed to him, her movements graceful. "You know, Aldric, you're different from most of the men I deal with. Most of them are either too stupid to see the game being played, or too arrogant to admit they need help. But you... you're smart enough to know what you don't know, and humble enough to ask for help when you need it. That's rare."
"I'm just trying to survive," Aldric said.
"No," Selene said, her amber eyes studying him intently. "You're trying to do more than survive. You're trying to win. And I think you might actually have a chance."
She leaned in and kissed him, her lips soft and warm. Aldric responded, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, and he felt the familiar heat rising between them.
But then Selene pulled back, her expression serious.
"Before this goes any further, I need to tell you something. I like you, Aldric. More than I should. But I'm not a fool, and neither are you. What we have is transactional. I help you, you help me. We enjoy each other's company, and sometimes we enjoy each other's bodies. But don't mistake that for love. Don't mistake it for loyalty. If the day comes when helping you becomes too dangerous, or when betraying you becomes too profitable, I'll do what I need to do to survive. Just as you would. Understood?"
Aldric looked into her eyes and saw the truth there. She meant every word. And he respected her for it.
"Understood," he said. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Selene smiled, and this time it was genuine. "Good. Now that we've established the rules, let's enjoy ourselves."
What followed was intense and passionate. They moved to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. Selene was skilled and confident, guiding him with touches and whispers, teaching him things he'd never imagined. She showed him how to read her body, how to find the places that made her gasp and arch against him. And when they finally came together, it was with a desperate hunger that left them both breathless.
Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, their skin slick with sweat. Selene traced patterns on his chest with her fingertips, her expression thoughtful.
"You're a quick learner," she said. "In bed and out of it. That's good. You'll need to be, if you want to survive in this city."
"I'm starting to understand that," Aldric said. "Everything here is a game. Everyone is playing an angle. Trust is a liability."
"Not quite," Selene said. "Trust is a tool, like anything else. You just need to know when to use it and when to withhold it. The trick is to make people think you trust them more than you do, while never trusting anyone completely. That way, you can form alliances without making yourself vulnerable."
"Is that what we are?" Aldric asked. "An alliance?"
"For now," Selene said. "We're useful to each other. We enjoy each other. That's enough. Don't complicate it by trying to define it too precisely."
Aldric nodded. He understood. In a strange way, Selene's honesty was refreshing. She didn't pretend to care more than she did. She didn't make promises she wouldn't keep. She was exactly what she appeared to be—a survivor, playing the game as best she could.
He could respect that. He could work with that.
They spent the rest of the morning together, talking about the city and its power structures. Selene told him stories about the noble houses, their rivalries and alliances, their strengths and weaknesses. She explained how information flowed through the city, who the key players were, how to identify opportunities and avoid traps.
"The most important thing to understand," she said, "is that power in this city comes in three forms. There's official power—titles, positions, legal authority. There's economic power—wealth, control of resources, ability to hire and fire. And there's magical power—the ability to kill or coerce through Aether-Weaving. Most people only have one or two of these. The truly dangerous people have all three."
"Like the Duchess?" Aldric asked.
"Like the Duchess," Selene confirmed. "Duchess Vivienne Ashford is nobility, so she has official power. She's wealthy, so she has economic power. And she's a Tier 5 Archon, so she has magical power. That makes her one of the most dangerous people in the Empire. If you're going to work for her, you need to be very, very careful."
"I haven't agreed to work for her yet," Aldric said.
Selene gave him a knowing look. "You will. You need a patron, and she's one of the best options available to someone in your position. Just remember what I said—don't trust her. Use her, let her use you, but always have an exit strategy."
Aldric absorbed this advice, filing it away for future use. Selene was teaching him the rules of the game, and he was a diligent student.
By the time he left her establishment, the sun was high in the sky. He had two days before his meeting with Marcus Blackwood. Two days to prepare, to plan, to make sure he was ready for whatever came next.
He spent those days training his body and his mind. He ran through the streets of the capital, building his endurance. He practiced with the knife he carried, learning basic techniques from a former soldier he met in a tavern. He read books on strategy and politics, borrowed from a small lending library in the Merchant District.
And he thought about magic. About what it would mean to become a mage. About the power he would gain and the price he would pay.
He was ready. Or as ready as he could be.
The game was about to enter its next phase.