“Nothing of real note,” Gave said.

“He loves archaeology!” his date said at the same time though. He gave her a dry look.

“Archaeology!” Wax said. “That’s hardly unnotable, Lord Gave.”

“He loves relics!” the lady said. “Spends hours at the auction house, snatching up anything he—”

“I like history,” Gave interjected. “Artwork from times past inspires me. But you, dear, are making me sound too much like one of those gentlemen adventurers.” He sneered at the term. “I’m sure you saw the type up in the Roughs, Lord Waxillium. Men who’d spent their lives in society, but suddenly decided to go off seeking some kind of thrill or another where they don’t belong.”

Steris stiffened. Wax met the man’s gaze levelly. The insult, veiled though it was, was similar to those he’d suffered in Elendel society.

“Better they try something new,” Wax said, “as opposed to wasting their lives in the same old activities.”

“My Lord Waxillium!” Gave said. “Disappointing one’s family is hardly original! People have been doing it since the days of the Last Emperor.”

Wax made a fist at his side. He was accustomed to insults, but this one still got under his skin. Perhaps it was because he was on edge, or perhaps it was because of his worry about his sister.

He pushed down his anger, Steris squeezing his arm, and tried another tactic. “Is your cousin well?”

“Valette? Most certainly. We are all pleased with her new marriage. I’m sorry your relationship didn’t work out, but the man who courted her after you was dreadful. When titles are part of a union, it’s always unpleasant to see what crawls out from the mists looking for a bone.”

He didn’t look at Steris as he said it. He didn’t need to. That sly smile, so self-satisfied as he sipped his wine.

“You rat,” Wax growled. “You rusting, spineless rat.” He reached for his gun, which—fortunately—wasn’t there.

The other three young nobles looked to him, shocked. Gave grinned in a cocky way before adopting an expression of outrage. “Excuse me,” he said, turning his date by the arm and striding away. The others scuttled after.

Wax sighed, lowering his arm, still angry. “He did that deliberately,” he muttered. “Didn’t he? He wanted an excuse to leave the conversation, so he insulted me. When that didn’t work, he flung one at you, knowing I’d overreact.”

“Hmmm…” Steris said. “Yes, you have the right of it.” Steris nodded. Other people nearby made conversation, but they left an open space around Wax and Steris.

“I’m sorry,” Wax said. “I let him get to me.”

“That’s why we tried him first,” Steris said. “Good practice. And we did learn something. The archaeology comment prodded too close to something he didn’t want to discuss. He turned to veiled insults to distract us.”

Wax took a deep breath, shoving away his annoyance at this entire situation. “What now? Do we try another one?”

“No,” Steris said, thoughtful. “We don’t want our targets to know that we’re approaching them specifically. If you interact with unaffiliated people in between, our pattern will be more difficult to spot.”