“You have your quirks, but at least you ensure quality meals,” she said. “The Pensley’s servants seemed to think a skinned cat a delicacy. Every other meal I spent the evening pulling hair out of my teeth.”

Maynard shuddered.

“They have always been fair when dealing with me, so I felt them a safe home for you. Besides, they had a daughter your age. Please, don’t jest about such crude things while we eat.”

“Their daughter spent too much time with her ankles around her neck to be of much entertainment for me,” Alyssa said. “But you’re right. We should talk business.”

The next course arrived, an unknown meat smothered with so much gravy, sauce, and seasonings that she could barely see it underneath. The smell made her mouth water.

“Business is exhausting,” Maynard said. “And in more ways than one. I would prefer we not discuss it while we relax.”

“You would prefer we not discuss it at all. You may have sent me away as a fool, but I’ve had plenty of time to learn. How many years has this embarrassing war with the thief guilds lasted?”

“Five years,” Maynard said, frowning. “Five long years. Don’t be bitter with me for sending you away. I just wanted you safe.”

“Safe?” Alyssa said. She put down her fork, her appetite lost. “Is that what you think? You wanted me out of your way, you always have. Easier to plot murder and money when your little girl isn’t underfoot.”

“I have missed you dearly,” Maynard insisted.

“You showed it poorly,” Alyssa said. She stood and pushed her plate away. “But enough of this. I am a Gemcroft, same as you, and this pathetic conflict shames both our names. Gutter vermin and lowborn cutthroats defeating the entire wealth and power of the Trifect?”

“I would hardly say we are being defeated.”

She laughed in his face.

“We control every gold and gem mine north of the Kingstrip. They have bastards and whoresons robbing caravans and peasant workers. Connington keeps Lord Sully and the rest of the Hillock in his pocket. They have lice and fleas in theirs. And what about Keenan? Half the boats on the Thulon Ocean are his, yet I worry his sea dogs will start thinking the boats under better protection in their hands instead of his.”