The chatter in the kitchen died almost instantly the second the door opened. Then, the girl who passed me the note realized who I was.

  “It's okay, she’s cool,” she said. The others sent her questioning looks.

  “I’m with the Jacks, not an alchemist,” I explained. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing your space. I couldn’t take much more of the pretentious folk upstairs.”

  “Is it true that most of the Jacks have disappeared?” a young boy asked. The older woman next to him swatted his arm.

  “Something like that. I plan to have them all back by the end of the year. I’ll probably need a few favors to make it happen, and I was just thinking that figuring out what happened to the missing notes might help me get a few more. Any idea where I can start with that?”

  It took a few seconds, but eventually they decided I was trustworthy enough to start sharing the latest gossip floating around the estate. They were even further convinced when I offered to lend a hand.

  Turns out, there are quite a few rivalries in various states of development between the alchemists living on the estate and those who were not granted the privilege. Residence was highly sought after and fiercely protected and apparently it had been a while since they had any real shakeups. Most of the time vacancies were caused by job offers, but every so often a person would fall out of favor so far that they were asked to leave.

  “You see any shakeups on the horizon?” I asked.

  “Things have been pretty quiet recently aside from the usual showboating and boasting. The grand convention is next year, though, so there’s room for some drama to rise to the surface,” Jena said, hope in her voice and mischief in her eyes.

  “Tell me more about this convention. What are the stakes? What’s everyone hoping for?” I pressed.

  None of them had been of course, but they knew all sorts of details about the things that went on around it and that was a wealth of information on its own. I found myself with a deeper understanding of the social makeup of the alchemist community than I ever expected to have. Some of the names I recognized from Maguire’s research and my own connections, but now I felt like I really knew some of them.

  I was politely asked to leave after about two hours, as there was work to be done and as much as they loved my company, they found me incredibly distracting. I couldn’t blame them, so I gracefully made my exit and went to the library.

  Marguerite waited in a reading nook near a window, looking as if she had been there for a while.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Did you have a nice time in the kitchens?” She asked as I approached, not looking up from her book.

  “I did,” I replied, settling down in the seat next to her. I grabbed the nearest book and flipped it open, skimming the pages. It appeared to be some kind of book on plants. “Had some lovely conversations that gave me a real insight into life here, including why someone might steal another person’s work.”

  “There is certainly no shortage of interesting motivations here, mingled with complicated relationships and heavy expectations.”

  “That kind of pressure can lead to some impulsive decision making. Especially with a big event looming on the horizon.”

  “Indeed. Names have power and they can be really hard to live up to. Old names don’t like letting go of their power, and they don't take kindly to disappointment.”

  Her eyes locked on mine and she nodded. Then, as she started to speak, it's almost like the words got caught in her throat. I thought maybe she was just trying to figure out how to phrase things, but then I realized something else was going on.

  I stood, placing my hands on her shoulders to keep her from sliding straight out of her seat as her body went slack.

  “We need help in the library!” I shouted. “Marguerite’s been poisoned.”

  The servants arrived first, followed by the alchemists. I stayed nearby, supporting Marguerite and trying my best to not be in the way of the people who knew what they were doing.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” Elmer demanded.

  “We were talking and she seemed fine. Then I noticed her eyes lost focus and were starting to roll back while her jaw went slack. I knew something was wrong, so I jumped up and grabbed her shoulders to hold her steady. She’s been showing signs of full body tremors and some difficulty breathing. No signs of symptom degradation.”

  “Okay, good. Hieronymus and I can take it from here.”

  “Take Maguire. He can help if this is more than alchemy. I’ll check out this space to see if this happened through contact or consumption.”

  “Do you think this was intentional?” Genevieve asked.

  “I think it's best to act with caution in cases like this,” I said. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  “I agree. We all would do well to follow Miss Claudia’s lead in this,” Hieronymus said. He and Elmer positioned themselves to be able to carefully cradle Marguerite, lifting her from the chair and carrying her from the room.

  Maguire followed close behind, doing a one handed inventory of his bag while his other held the strap to prevent any accidental bumps. A few of the servants went with them, some likely disappearing into the hidden corridors to get extra assistance. That left me with Genevieve and Tiffany, an unofficial member of the society being trained by Marguerite, and two footmen, James and Mark.

  I didn't know Tiffany well, having only passed her briefly in the hall during my tour, yet I could tell instantly that she was worried about whatever happened. She also bore a strong resemblance to Genevieve, who seemed not particularly bothered by the situation. She stayed to help, though, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt.