The Secrets of Lore Seymour

10. Confident Cases

Lore waits in the car. I rather not join him, especially after earlier. I claimed that our conversation wasn't finished, but what more is there to say? He doesn't need to know more about my past or my feelings concerning the church, although he can easily guess about the latter. Unfortunately, something tells me that Lore will get more information out of me than I'd like to give. If that's the case, I have to make sure to use those moments to get the truth out of him too. If I can. I'm not exactly the best at mental manipulation. Mind games have never been part of my playbook. I'm more of a "brute force it" kind of guy.

Draven steps out of the house shortly after Lore and I left. He heads to the car, likely having received directions to the law firm. I follow and--very reluctantly--slip into the backseat.

"Since I do not know if you have any real experience with criminal investigation, please refrain from giving too many details about Mr. Marshalls' death," Lore says sternly. "The less the public knows the more likely the killer is to make a mistake and admit to something they shouldn't know if we are to interview them."

"I appreciate the advice even if it's obvious, Your Grace," I reply.

Lore clicks his tongue. "Should a paladin be so easy to rile up? I thought you were meant to support peace and love."

"Aren't Lords meant to have better manners? Shouldn't someone have taught you that it's rude to purposefully piss people off?"

Lore chuckles and replies around a wicked grin, "Come now, everyone knows the primary objective of nobility is to piss people off in the most condescendingly polite way possible. I'd like to think that I excel at that."

"I will admit that you certainly do."

Lore gasps in exaggeration. "Careful with your flattery less you win my heart and I don't think the church would condone our union."

Why is he like this? Why couldn't I get a different assignment? Maybe Olere will have me switch places with another paladin if I beg. I'm willing to do it as I've done so before after a local farmer caught me kissing her son, who did not inform me that he was engaged to a very wealthy man. I almost lost my balls that day had I not begged to keep the boys in tact seeing as I hadn't known.

"If I ever got married, I'd want a black wedding," Lore abruptly adds, like this is a perfectly normal conversation to have around an enemy. He proceeds to glance at me with wide, inquisitive eyes.

"I am not having a conversation with you about weddings."

Lore scrunches up his face in seemingly earnest disappointment. "Why not? It's a pleasant and meaningless conversation, or are you not even allowed to do that with a dhampir? What is that, Rule 47 of the Fanatically Juped Handbook?"

"Rule 34 actually."

Lore chuckles. "Are you finally learning to play along?"

"Tolerate is a better description." And further practice meditation. I'll have to make time for it everyday at this rate, otherwise I may actually punch Lore's front teeth out. Not that it'd be an issue for him. They'd grow back in a few hours, if not sooner, which kind of encourages me to just go through with the violent act. At least I'll feel better.

The car comes to a stop a few minutes later in a more upscale district of the city. The brick buildings consist of the finest materials available. Windows trimmed in silver and gold while intricate metal overhangings protect guests at the front doors. Less fog overtakes the sky, cogwheels are concealed by beautiful tapestries or integrated effortlessly into the brick work while couples strut the streets in extravagant garbs, although none as garish as Lore's. He likes the attention, I assume.