If she felt irritation at the calling of this inconvenient clandestine meeting, her face did not show the emotion.
Though Rachel's mood had been soured on parties for quite some time, socialites, even married ones, had little choice in way of attendance, as supporting charities and attending galas and functions and all manner of events became a job in itself. She had reason to believe, however, her fortunes (metaphorical, of course, as her bank vaults would remain full as ever) would soon be changing.
Nonetheless, the reason she was here was because of Derek Dobbs and his ever-increasing (and frustrating) need for privacy and caution. Rachel could appreciate his past life events and occupation bred a morbid paranoia that plagued him in his every day life, but certainly there could be no foe waiting to jump out from behind the hedges or slink around the corners of the castle corridor to warrant this much secrecy. She could not imagine what he wished to discuss, which might range from his alcoholism to a strange method of inquiry about the lives of their friends, but she would, as always, come to his aid as he had done countless of times for her.
It was a simple matter to excuse herself from Gabriel's side and a simpler matter to set a small, unnoticeable trail for the Hit-wizard to follow, a trick which had come in handy many a time in her youth to lead suitors where she pleased. A little alcove in the outside portion of the maze was suitable to her purposes, no doubt the hiding place of a juvenile nasty that was unleashing terror on unsuspecting maze-goers. She stood motionless until she heard the messy tread of unsteady footsteps and transfigured her
mask away.
Sounds of a brawl echoed outside, and Rachel stuck her head out in time to see two large figures sprawled on the floor, grappling with one another.
"Derek,
honestly!" she snapped, pushing the veil of her crown away from her face. "What is the
matter with—" Rachel caught a glimpse of the second face and faltered. "With—"
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