Hohenfels

Arne studied Katharina from the corner of his eye. Her aura radiated smug satisfaction after doing God-knows-what to the poor girls who had been clumsily tailing them ever since they left Hohenfels Hall. A display of immense skill that made him both happy to have allied with her and worried about what else she might have up her sleeve.

A spike of aura from a neighboring table reminded him that the mess hall was, while less visited than usual, still full of people who were paying very close attention to his every move. The amulet bore the brunt of it, but his senses still felt a little strained from earlier.

He stabbed his gargantuan slab of roasted pork with a little too much force, splattering the tablecloth with red wine sauce. A servant hurried to his side, cleaned up the mess and immediately retreated again.

Friedrich shot him a questioning look across the table, unable to speak due to his enthusiastic consumption of his own meal.

“It’s been a while since I used so much magic at once,” Arne shrugged. It was as good an excuse as any.

His cousin shrugged back and turned his attention back to his roast.

Arne had to admit: The food was good. So good that it had managed to awaken his appetite despite his miserable mood. It also helped him think, and a plan slowly blossomed in his mind. He was sure that Katharina would find a way to talk him out of it, so he decided to keep the details to himself.

Not that he could discuss it with her anyway, given the presence of Friedrich and ‘Linde’, who formally introduced herself as Sieglinde von Elmstedt, the daughter of a Count from Marbach. His cousin had insisted on tagging along as a bodyguard, and Arne granted him his request to bring Sieglinde along lest the meal become rather awkward for him.

Katharina was not particularly enthused by the arrangement, though Arne could only tell from the way her aura took on a tinge of annoyance whenever Friedrich’s boisterous mannerisms caused his admirer to exaggeratedly swoon over him.