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Chapter 19: His Girlfriend is Really Cute Too

Britecleff was different than the rest, however. He initiated a brief, but effective investigation about the ring that landed Sunthraze in his office by day's end.

"I actually want to talk to your mother as well. It was so long ago, so a lot of people today don't suspect. However, who else would have been so close to Queen Celestia around the time the ring was commissioned, have a grudge against the queen and also a fresh connection to a newspaper in order to give the royal family a hard time about it? The journalist is the same man who reported on how your hometown reacted to your arrest."

Sunthraze stuffed hands into his pockets, said nothing.

"…Are you kidding me with this?"

Finally, Sunthraze realized he had to say something. "There's a good reason for it, Britecleff. You'll see. Just wait until news reaches as far as… Well, give the newspaper time to… circulate."

"This is revenge for the Sunstriders dragging the Sunthrazes through the mud, with your arrest. I thought we were past this, I thought you let this go! Are we really in my office talking about this same drama for the second time?"

Sunthraze looked around, frustrated. But he'd already tried every excuse to get out of the meeting with Britecleff. But after half a day went by, Britecleff sent Tempest to the ranch, promising they could 'sit at the river' after his meeting, whatever that meant. And so of course Sunthraze had fallen for it. By now though, Tempest had probably eaten her dinner, gone for her usual run, had a smoke and was probably asleep, with her roomates. If not with Pyorin.

Sunthraze hated to be reminded of that, yet again.

Britecleff squinted an eye at him, "I can't think of another reason that your family would commit slander like this? The investigators will eventually find out what I have. Are you really sure you don't want me to be the one dealing with it, when I know you and actually care what happens to you? And don't think the Sunstriders won't take this opportunity to settle the score and clear themselves. Sylvanas has been out on recon recently near Zul'Aman, so she won't be able to get back fast and clean up the mess like before."

"Well, maybe you should know..." The Kael'thas thing was damning news. Really, Sunthraze new he shouldn't. "Maybe Pyorin was right and we should have gone to you in the first place." Sunthraze drew a long breath, "I guess this thing is too big for us to handle alone." Sunthraze placed a hand on the desk. It was cool. As chilly as Britecleff staring down on him.

There was a lot to confide. There were a lot of ways to tell it.

"…I got my mother to go to the papers about the ring because we think it will get Kael'thas to come back home. Here, to Silvermoon."

"How's that?"

Sunthraze realized he was going to have to reveal even more if he went this far.

"Pyorin… and I, believe it or not, we are working together on this. Pyorin knows about the ring that Kael'thas gave to Jaina Proudmoore. He knows and he told me," and then, Sunthraze anxiously backtracked, "Pyorin knows about the ring because he's been reading Kael'thas' mail and then sharing it with me, to help him fix the letters so they don't seem as bad. So Queen Celestia can't get her hooks into anything about Kael'thas."

Sure. Why not make it all seem like Pyorin's fault?

Britecleff got up from his desk and swore. He pried away a curtain and looked out into the moonlight. "Well, I already knew Pyorin had degraded into something like Queen Celestia's boy-toy."

"No, they haven't slept together, yet."

"Doesn't mean he hasn't slept with every other woman at court. It's… awful, it's like he's circling around Celestia like a vulture or… something going down a drain, so, so slowly. I wonder why he's hesitating? Why not go for broke and throw it all away? At the least, she might do him some favors."

Sunthraze was mostly focused on not having to say anything else.

Then, right along with his thoughts, "Is that all?"

Better give Britecleff one last thing, anything, to make it seem realistic. "Also, can you lock a guy up for implying he could be your mother's gigolo? Because that was not funny."

Britecleff's brow knit with disgust and frustration, "What, with Pyorin, Celestia and… Prince Kaelt'has?"

"No. It happened when Pyorin was over at my house and we planned this. He took a shot at my mother. Well, my mother wasn't in the room at the time..."

"Sunthraze. Stop talking."

"Yessir."

Britecleff wandered a few more paces, but then he got impatient and grabbed his cloak off the rack. "Come on, we're going out."

"Wait, I'm not in a lot of trouble am I? I didn't do anything! At least not yet. Where are you taking me?"

Britecleff thought about how to describe it, "…Double-date, let's say. Don't you dare tell Pyorin. And I guess it'll have to be someplace swanky since there's no other way in hell they'll let her out under any other circumstances. We'll stop by my house and get a change of clothes for you."

"Um… this is a weird time of the day and way to recruit me into the Farstriders." Then, Sunthraze just had to press that big red button, "You buying me a hooker?"

"What the-Don't talk about my girlfriend that way again!"

Then, though Sunthraze ducked, Britecleff still managed to hit him.

Tempest, it turned out, was the escort. But not in the same sense as Sunthraze had joked. Tempest was supposed to be there to make Lady Daphne Weaver appear to be in more decent company. Otherwise, Britecleff assured Sunthraze that Daphne's parents would never let her off the estate with him at that hour. Sunthraze had seen Britecleff's overly-happy treatise at the front door, insisting it was a big suprize and there was a special menu and he needed Daphne right away. Sunthraze had arched an eyebrow while waited back in the carriage. It sounded shady as fel and he wouldn't have let his own daughter run out of the house at o'dark thirty, not even to go with her frantic fiancée. Not with that ugly lie. Luckily, they didn't send anyone down to go as far as craning their neck into the carriage with a lantern to see if there was indeed another respectable woman involved, sitting next to Sunthraze, who was street-side.

Sunthraze looked good in his borrowed three-piece-suit that mostly fit. It was black. Britecleff, for some reason, thought he could pull off an embroidered burnt orange affair, complete with a foofy cravat, lined with gold. Sunthraze sat alone on his side of the carriage. Tempest was supposed to have got out of bed, dressed, and traveled over with them, but instead she insisted that she needed more time to get ready and would meet them there. Sunthraze allowed that he was being snarkier than usual because he was a little freaked out by this big entrance Tempest intended to make for him at the restaurant, and under the worst possible circumstances. They were about to talk about how much he'd effed up something secret he wasn't supposed to be doing in the first place. And it was even worse than that—Sunthraze could never let them know exactly what Kael'thas had done. Allegedly done.

The whole damned thing was gnawing on his nerves, so Sunthraze had to tease Britecleff and his date Daphne about it, first chance he got. The carriage ride over would do, "I can't believe you two are engaged and you're not even allowed to just sit in Daphne's living room and talk? Okay, so if not there? At least some other private room in the house, right? Heh. Why are you getting kicked around so bad Britecleff?"

Britecleff raised his brightly embroidered arm to threaten Sunthraze, but he was already holding Daphne's hand. She patted his tux sleeve and they all watched Britecleff calm down.

"Sunthraze, some women are hard to get. Some women are hard to even keep. Daphne is impossibly difficult to even see, because her parents don't want me to marry her. Even now."

"I'm also that amazingly special." Daphne pretended to play with her earrings.

Britecleff shifted on the seat, to turn in and whisper to her, "Baby, there's an emergency and we need your input—"

"Not here." And Daphne kissed his hand. "It can wait until the restaurant. Things can be overheard by mere cab drivers, can't they? We'll wait for that pricey private booth I know you ordered."

Sunthraze needed a haircut badly and that bit didn't fool anyone at Lord Satheril presents… Suntouched!, the high-end restaurant in downtown Silvermoon known for its famous special reserve champagne and everything else that went with that. There were arcane crystals set atop the arcane crystals in the chandeliers. And it became clear why Britecleff was so powerfully dressed up. A lot of the men in there were much worse. Sunthraze tried not to see the sheer cravats and loud colors around the place that were starting to make him feel nauseous. Not that other men shouldn't go dressing up, but the elite of the elite of Silvermoon in those days seemed to enjoy racing headlong in stolen carriages, to break through several walls with their fashion.

"That's not a see-through solar festival suit on that old, lumpy general is it?"

"Don't make eye contact." Britecleff said quickly, as their waiter came round to get them.

Both men noticed Clerk Blaize from the Farstrider garrison who was there with his wife. Turns out Blaize had married well, the way she was all over the place with her champagne and already sliding out of her chair so early in the evening showed she was an aristocrat in need of a cleaner reputation. Even here, Blaize nothing but dotted 'I's' and crossed 'T's'. He was skilled at flagging away the waiter, from delivering any more champagne, whilst still keeping up genial conversation with their guests. Who were not that horrified. So far. And that wife of Blaize's would have come from his network of shady, but stinkingly rich acquaintances from his old Court of the Sun days. Some people said Blaize had even been on speaking terms with Queen Celestia back then.

Sunthraze and Britecleff said nothing to Blaize. Daphne was far better bred. She waved gently and gave a polite smile to Blaize's wife, who was covered in yellow feathers. Blaize's suit matched and was the color of the butter in its dish on their table. Blaize snarled at Sunthraze. Sure, Sunthraze was an anomaly in such a locale, but it was like the kid's very life was an affront to Blaize. Sunthraze knew that total ignorance of that ass was the best revenge.

The restaurant was set up curiously. At the center of the round space, there were single tables, low lighting, flowers and such. But around the walls were potted palms and slick white marble screens portioning off what Sunthraze found out were small, private dining rooms.

"This is why I didn't spring for your hair cut. If you don't make an ass out of yourself, people will have only seen you during the walk over to this booth." Britecleff huffed when they were let inside their over-decorated booth. A beautiful nymph statue, up on her toes, held a light pink torch aloft. The lighting was very romantic. It took its toll on Daphne who gave Britecleff a kiss immediately, almost before his firm Farstrider butt hit the chair.

"…Thanks."

Daphne smiled very brightly, but composed herself really well after that.

Sunthraze smirked, "When is that wedding again? Do you all need to move it up to, say, five minutes ago?"

Britecleff had his hand free this time and liberally went upside Sunthraze's head. Like Sunthraze was the put upon charcoal boy who was supposed to be downstairs stoking the furnaces. Some gold chains down in Britecleff's fancy sleeve jingled prettily when he did that.

Daphne toyed with her crystal glass of water. "The screens are enchanted, though it looks like sound can get through the little carved holes. Britecleff and I used to come here and snog all the time, at a tasteful private angle. Then, it started to put a big dent in his finances, so we had to stop."

"It was around the time her parents also stopped being so impressed with me, when they realized I couldn't actually afford it."

Then, it was awkward. Britecleff and Daphne started chattering away, then flirting. Sunthraze tried not to hate not having a girlfriend all over again.

Sunthraze griped, "Can we start without Tempest?"

Britecleff was caught smiling at something Daphne had whispered to him, "…Huh? Oh. Right… well, actually, she's a part of this. If Pyorin is involved, there really is only one person who can keep him in line. Beyond that, Tempest is a capable agent in her own right."

In a dull tone, Sunthraze went, "How could we forget."

Daphne winked, "I thought you enjoyed her arresting you. That's what I heard."

Sunthraze stopped talking. The waiter checked on them and offered them drinks—of course everyone wanted Suntouched Special Reserve. But the waiter didn't come back to take their food order until their last guest arrived.

Tempest swanned in, wearing a giant purple fur coat. Sunthraze was apt to make fun of that.

"Now I see why you're late. What poor animal did you wrestle then skin with your teeth to get that?"

Then, Tempest let the waiter help her slip it off.

Daphne sat up, "A lucky male victim, I'd say."

Britecleff knew better than to say anything at all.

Tempest's long, purple gown had a feathery top that would have made more sense if she were a bird, and had preened the fluffy down carefully, feather by feather, away from the center of her dress. The neckline was a deep V drop, but it wasn't tastelessly done. It seemed natural, exotic. Like someone had seated Sunthraze next to a rare, feathered woman. When she breathed… let's say it was a lot of fun.

"You look like a harpy." Then, Sunthraze frowned at the way that came out. "Sorry."

She smiled, pleased that her effort had been noticed. The deep purple eyeshadow made her even more alluring, "Want me to grab you and steal you away then, Sunthraze?"

"A lot."

She patted his leg in a friendly way. It ruined things a little, because it reminded him of Pyorin and his mother the other night. Ugh…

They made their orders for dinner. The waiter knew to leave couples in these kinds of enchanted booths alone other than that.

Britecleff explained the problem. Kael'thas needed to come home, because of the ring—and he wasn't even supposed to be telling them this—then, finally, there was bound to be fallout from the newspaper article.

"Did I get it all?" Britecleff looked up at Sunthraze.

"Yes."

"I don't think I believe you. You tried to make me laugh earlier, I didn't miss it. But we didn't have time to deal with it then." Britecleff leaned on his elbows over the table, "Let's deal with it now."

Tempest sipped champagne.

Daphne was going to do the same but then she clutched at her throat. Britecleff's instinct was that she'd swallowed something the wrong way, and he paused everything to look at her curiously. But Daphne hadn't even tasted the champagne yet.

She looked right at Sunthraze, "Prince Kael'thas wrote to you?" then, Daphne got angry, "I'm a priestess, remember? I can see into your mind. Please do not waste Britecleff's time when it's as serious as that."

Britecleff said Sunthraze's name again, a low growl.

"Uh, he wrote to Celestia."

"He hates writing to his step-mother." Now Daphne made a face as if there was a bad smell. "Everyone knows that."

Tempest helped, "All the rich folk know it."

"Well, that's why I'm here." Daphne folded her hands on the table. She wasn't trying to be insulting, she was still disturbed by whatever she'd seen in Sunthraze's mind.

Sunthraze wondered if he should risk it? Daphne would have reacted far worse if she really knew everything.

"That's… the whole point. What worries me. Why would Kael'thas ever write to her? I think—Pyorin and I think that Kael'thas is being set up. Or, forced to write to Celestia. So we need him out of Dalaran. If Lady Jaina Proudmoore hears that there's a copy of her engagement ring, one she might use to um, test, I guess, and get the spell off of it, then she might come here to Silvermoon herself. If Kael'thas doesn't break down and get here first."

Britecleff thought it over, "They'd be racing each other to get that ring."

Tempest looked thoughtful, "So that's why it's in the paper? Where's the connection, though? Who even knew about the copied ring?"

"Well, it's in the paper because my mother wanted it there. She used to know Celestia. Extremely well. After that I figured all I'd need to do—all Pyorin and I would need to do is just sit back and wait."

Daphne shook her head at him and cursed softly. The men at the table were enticed, seeing that. And yes, Tempest too. "That's foolish. There could be backlash from the palace and surely an investigation."

Britecleff turned to his lady, "Daphne, I need you for that part. How do we stop it?"

"Fend off the palace? Oh, never that. You'll think it over for days, and try for weeks, maybe. But the sad truth is… if the Sunstriders want something, they're going to get it."

No one wanted to hear that.

"What they wanted was to keep me locked up." Sunthraze disagreed, "They didn't get it."

"If you think about it, King Anasterian asked Sylvanas to fix the problem, and then she did. She was acting on his orders, Anasterian didn't care how it got resolved. But if Anasterian had been on Advisor Sorn's side and wanted to fry you for bacon Sunthraze, then you'd still be in that cell now, no matter how pretty a speech Sylvanas might have made. Anasterian might have targeted Sylvanas next, so what? He's the king." Now Daphne did sip her champagne, and it seemed she needed it. This whole Sorn-rules-the-kingdom alternate universe thing was so dark, "But then, Sylvanas is too clever to step directly into Anasterian's way, or anyone's way if there's a fight she can't actually win. So she would have never even made that speech. Do you see?"

"Yeesh." Sunthraze decided to have a drink, himself.

Daphne tried another tack, "Bart, could volunteer to head up the investigation about the copy-ring yourself?"

They all argued for a while about how it was out of Britecleff's purview and that Sylvanas would never just grant him that without being suspicious.

"Make Pyorin volunteer, then. He might just get away with it." Tempest looked irritated, but she had another sip of champagne.

Sunthraze went, "Are you a lightweight?"

Britecleff sounded bored, "It's rude to seem so hopeful with a woman so damn early in the evening, Sunthraze."

Tempest sat up straighter. She arched her back and rolled her shoulders. "I need to be lying down. Flat. Usually, I get to rest my back this time of night and right now it's killing me."

Sunthraze asked, "Wait, why does your back hurt so much?"

Britecleff didn't say anything. Daphne also felt it was rather obvious.

Tempest gulped down more champagne, "Blech, this is just too much after a long day. I should have worn a bra."

Britecleff flashed Sunthraze another look, daring him to ruin the evening with the inevitable comment.

Daphne also had better manners than to make a thing of it, even if Tempest wasn't so cultured.

Sunthraze was… devastated.

Britecleff got back onto the topic, "If Pyorin runs the investigation, Sunthraze and his mother shouldn't get in trouble since we can keep it in-house and quiet, that's true." Britecleff drummed fingers on the table. "Alright, I'll mention it to him. Good work, Tempest."

"And give him an actual motivation other than wanting to be a busybody. Even better, have Pyorin go around telling Celestia he's worried about a security leak and wants to prove himself. He always feels like he doesn't have anything worthwhile to do around the palace anyway." Tempest then finished her glass and pushed it nearby Sunthraze, who failed to pour for her. "What? Now you don't want me liquored up? I'm trying to help you out."

Sunthraze reached for the champagne in its ice bucket, then topped her off. After that, Tempest rolled her shoulders again, then put an arm across the back of Sunthraze's chair. Probably it helped her balance, helped the pain in some way. But she did, once again, look like the man in their little almost-romance. And, that Tempest was so much taller than him didn't help.

Britecleff stared at him, "Sunthraze, I still don't have an answer from you."

"What? I told you Kael'thas was trying to mail Celestia the letter."

"Right. But you keep dancing around what was in the letter. It's the obvious thing to mention."

Daphne offered, "Well, maybe it's just embarrassing. A fight with his mother is hardly newsworthy."

Sunthraze couldn't help it. The word 'news' had an affect on him.

Britecleff sat back slowly. His chair creaked. "I'll get it out of you, yet."

Tempest tapped Sunthraze on the shoulder with the hand that was there. He flinched. "Hey, don't let Britecleff scare you. He's just trying to scare you." She winked, "Don't get scared, Sunthraze."

Britecleff smirked, "And you're cut off." He gave Daphne the champagne.

"Convenient, when I rush to his defense. And then, Daphs, he goes on the offense."

Daphne smiled, charmed at the other woman, "Daphs?"

"Only I get to nickname my fiancée."

Sunthraze rolled his eyes, "Well that sounded desperate, Britecleff. And weird."

Tempest was still going on about her back, "Sitting is the problem. I need to stand. Sunthraze, come dance with me."

"But there's no music?"

Britecleff, obviously glad to have a moment alone with the woman he loved, helped them along, "Sunthraze this is Lord Satheril presents… Suntouched! If you start dancing, they'll make sure there's some music. You'd have to pay them to have an awkward moment, here."

Sunthraze stopped Tempest from leading him to what must have been the dancefloor, on nights when they did have music. And, just as Britecleff had assured, musicians began to assemble as they made their way to the middle of the polished floor.

Sunthraze looked up at her. He had to, "Well, we must look afright."

"When you're dating a tall woman that's not how it works." They began to drift to and fro. Then, a piano started, guiding them the rest of the way. A saxophone joined in with the melody. "When you're dating a tall girl, and I should know, the whole room looks at you."

"Yeah, you stick out."

"Take a chance and see it for yourself, Sunthraze." She lay her head back, enjoying the the way he was swaying, tempting him to turn her in that direction. Tempest smiled when he did it. "Did you look?"

He chanced it after all. He wasn't sure what to look for, though.

"The room is full of admirers. Men, and women too, who wondered how you captured a woman so tall. 'Does he have money?' he says, 'He must be funny,' thinks his date. But what they will never say in this place is the most obvious association that happens when a man, your height, dances with a harpy-sized woman like me."

Sunthraze continued to guide them in dreamy circles. "Which is…?"

"He must be very, very well-hung."

Sunthraze missed a step.

"It's true. That's what people think when a couple is mismatched."

"The assumption being I must have something to tempt you with? And it ain't money, cause look at my haircut."

"You sound like a haggling Goblin, complaining about money."

"I suppose. You did just give me a very nice compliment."

"It wasn't based on any… let's say… intimate knowledge, though. Not yet."

Another couple joined them. As more people left their dinner tables to dance, the moment alone with Tempest was less special.

But it did enable Sunthraze to get away with a kiss. A good, long one.

They noticed a trio of busboys going over to their booth, with the food. Their waiter was off to the side, mostly. He had white gloves and the attitude of a conductor, he didn't have to do anything. It was that kind of place. Daphne yelped in surprise when she and Britecleff were interrupted. Sunthraze and Tempest heard it from where they were.

"What's up with those two, anyway? How could Daphne's parents possibly object to him?" Sunthraze decided to take them on one last turn around the room.

Tempest looked at Sunthraze, wistful, "You don't know? She's… well, she's a virgin. It seems rude to say it out loud that way. And don't tell Britecleff I told you. But she's waiting for marriage. They both are."

"Suppose he can't wait alone."

"Oh, don't make fun of it. I shouldn't have told you. I actually worry about Britecleff sometimes. How he's holding up."

Sunthraze gave her a look.

"I mean, the spiritual side of it. I'm sure he loves her so much, and he wouldn't do it if he didn't want to. And if he didn't agree and all that?"

"Right."

"But I wonder if it hurts him, somehow. If he feels… rejected? Is that the right word? Neglected."

"I've seen Britecleff's house. It's sickeningly expensive on the inside. That man has nothing in his life that's been neglected. I mean, the shoe-shine man on the corner was practically shouting us down in the street, he wanted Britecleff's tip so bad. But B. Artanyan Britecleff wasn't wearing his fine boots on Farstrider business when we went back out-"

"Britecleff is lonely. It wears on him. He rarely sees his family. I'm not even sure if he has real family, not like you and I do. He needs Daphne in his life, and soon. He's too proud to admit it. When you join up, you'll see. He spends too much time alone in that office. He works far too much. I'm sad for him."

Sunthraze wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Tonight, after we eat… let's leave early. Let's leave them in there alone for a while longer. You and I will have dessert someplace else."

Sunthraze grinned wide. He did know what to say to that.

They ate. The food was incredibly rich. Then, as planned, Sunthraze said he wanted to make sure that Tempest got some coffee, 'the good kind' and then Tempest joked that she had better let him because it was all he could afford.

Daphne looked sad to see them go so soon. Britecleff knew better. He said he wasn't stuck with the bill, that it would be fine. And he thanked them genuinely.

"I have a Daphne emergency fund."

Silently, Sunthraze willed those two to get married. Very married, and soon. Tempest had the same pained look on her face.

Very strange then. To happen once, it's just an instinct, a natural mortal impulse. But to feel like family with people twice?

If it would have been anything, that would have been the moment.

He may never tell anyone, or ever remember it but…

That was when Sunthraze first sensed they were all together, a team. That they were about to go to hell and back.

"My life for my prince."

It was Britecleff, saying good bye. Not to him, but to Tempest. She said it back, in a lower tone Sunthraze never saw that bawdy girl use before. Daphne repeated the same, though she was nuzzling into her boyfriend's shoulder.

As they left the restaurant, "Tempest? That was a weird way to say good bye. Was that code for something?" Sunthraze felt weird laughing, he didn't know why.

She flounced elegantly in that dress for a few steps, through candlelight, then out into the night.

"…Yes. Does that knowledge scare you?"

Sunthraze felt dread, rising up in him. She was serious. Tempest was eternally teasing him but this time, it was serious. He sort of pushed it aside, in his mind that night.

The familial feeling, the recruitment, the group within a group that Britecleff seemed to orchestrate, and the pretty priestess too. Yes, she was involved because of her engagement, but she was utilized like a sweeper, a fellow architect of clandestine happenings, even a mind-reader. None of this was going to Britecleff's superiors, he was subverting them. It wasn't blatant, it wasn't wrong, exactly, but they all were. And more than that Daphne also felt like someone to screen or field the new guy… That had been the real reason why Britecleff got a hold of her. Sunthraze was getting deeper in. So Britecleff introduced him to someone else in their elect group.

Sunthraze gave an equally serious look. "What is Britecleff really recruiting me for? Why is being a Farstrider not enough?"

Now Tempest was the one who seemed to cling, instead, to the fantasy. She had taken a chance at first, but then… she took his hand, swinged their hands together playfully.

She never answered him.