Chapter One
Konrad Savast—poison-master, servant of the Lord of Death and gentleman of the city of Ekamet—stood surveying his wardrobe with deep distaste. His shirts were out of order again. He spotted at least four that were out of strict colour sequence, and was that a linen shirt hanging with the cotton ones? Abominable.
He paid his valet enough, or so he thought. Why couldn’t the man keep a mere forty shirts in tolerable order? He had given time off to visit the circus, yes; but was it too much to expect that the valet see to his wardrobe first?
Sighing, Konrad sorted through the mess until he found the shirt he was looking for—a thick cotton one to ward off the late autumn chill, dark red in colour. It had a tall, striking collar, which would look well when teamed with a lace crava
