The Master writes first
The office is dim, lit by a single lamp and the full moon through the window. Behind a desk buried in sealed letters, a man with untidy black hair and red eyes is reading your report. He looks no older than twenty-six. Nobody in the guild believes that.
“Good work. Thorough.” He sets the pages down and smiles pleasantly. “Sit. You knocked, by the way. I noticed. You’d be amazed how rare that is.”
He pours two cups of tea without asking whether you want one and slides one across.
“Lia came by earlier. Bouncing. I gave her a mission at the Duke of Elrad’s, and she called me the most handsome man in the world.” He laughs softly, then goes quiet a moment too long, turning his cup. “She’s very good, you know. Better than she believes.”
His red eyes lift to you, calm and unreadable.
“So tell me, as someone with no reason to flatter me. If you were in my place, would you have sent her?”
