Chapter 110: My Fake Fiancée Asked If She Was Hotter Than a Level 71 Princess

Valeria stepped in.

"Cassian Orbrecht was never particularly good at choosing his enemies."

"I heard that too."

Mara was still looking at Raven.

"And apparently you’re very good at surviving yours."

Raven lifted one shoulder slightly.

"So far."

She smiled.

First point of connection.

Raven didn’t ask about Black Mithril.

Not yet.

Instead, he asked about Dunvar.

Costs.

The difference between local ore and refined material.

Trade routes.

He let Mara explain.

People talked more when they believed they were teaching someone.

Raven deliberately made a small mistake about refining-loss percentages.

Mara corrected him.

He feigned surprise.

She explained further.

Five minutes later, she was telling him why several companies inflated refining losses to conceal off-book sales.

Valeria looked at him.

Raven saw the question in her eyes.

You did that on purpose?

Yes.

He didn’t need to answer.

Once Mara was sufficiently invested in the conversation, Raven mentioned casually,

"So an eight-percent declared loss on medium-purity Black Mithril would be unusually high."

Mara stopped drinking.

Only for half a second.

"Depends on the mine."

"North Shaft Seven, for example."

A pause followed.

Brief.

But real.

Valeria saw it too.

Mara recovered quickly.

"I don’t know every shaft operated by every company."

A lie.

Raven knew it.

So did Valeria.

"Naturally," Raven said. "I only saw the name in some commercial documentation."

He left it there.

That mattered.

When someone knew you had information but didn’t know how much, they filled the gaps with their own fears.

Mara changed the subject.

Raven allowed her to.

Two minutes later, she excused herself and walked away.

Valeria waited until they were out of earshot.

"That was deliberate."

"Yes."

"You gave her the wrong refining percentage so she would correct you."

"Yes."

"And then used what she explained to introduce North Shaft Seven without directly accusing her of knowing about it."

Raven looked at her.

"Yes."

Valeria narrowed her eyes.

"It irritates me that you’re good at this."

"Would you prefer we fail?"

"I would prefer to feel superior for longer than twenty minutes."

"You still can."

"Not if it’s a lie."

Raven almost smiled.

"Aristocratic problem."

"Raven problem."

The next hour produced two useful contacts, an invitation to tour a refinery, and confirmation that Lord Edric Helmont rarely spoke to anyone for more than five minutes unless money or titles were involved.

Raven had one of those.

Money.

Not enough of it.

Valeria had the other.

That made them a useful combination.

They also discovered that the rumor had already spread.

Three people discreetly asked how long Valeria had been seeing "such a close companion." One woman asked whether House von Nacht was preparing a foreign alliance. A young noble asked directly when the engagement would be announced.

Valeria gave a different answer every time.

She never confirmed anything.

She never denied anything either.

And she enjoyed every second of it.

When they were briefly alone near a terrace, Raven finally spoke.

"You’re making this worse on purpose."

"I’m maintaining our cover."

"You told that woman that ’important decisions require time.’"

"They do."

"She asked when we were getting married."

"And my answer was still true."

"Valeria."

She smiled innocently.

"Raven."

"When this is over, you’re going to clarify the situation."

"Of course."

"That sounded false."

"Because we don’t yet know which version of the rumor will be more useful tomorrow."

Raven finished his wine.

He had consumed less than half of it.

"Black Hound had protocols for people like you."

"For charming people?"

"Controllable sources of trouble."

"I’ll keep charming."

The music changed.

Raven noticed because several couples began moving toward the central hall.

Valeria noticed too.

Her smile appeared far too quickly.

"No."

"I haven’t said anything."

"You don’t need to."

"We’re engaged, apparently."

"Possibly engaged."

"Worse."

"And a possibly engaged couple avoiding the dance floor while everyone else participates would look strange."

Raven studied the room.

She was right.

Again.

"I hate this operation."

"You don’t look like you do."

Valeria offered him her hand.

Raven took it.

"If you step on my dress, I’m using Blood Magic."

"That seems disproportionate."

"Then don’t step on it."

They joined the others.

Valeria expected Raven to be terrible.

He realized it the moment she placed one hand on his shoulder and the other in his.

"You’re smiling."

"I’m anticipating."

"My humiliation."

"Your education."

"That was almost diplomatic."

The music began.

Raven took the first step.

Valeria corrected him slightly.

Then came the second.

The third.

Raven found the pattern.

It wasn’t complicated.

Distance.

Rhythm.

Weight transfer.

Body cues.

Half of combat operated on similar principles, although saying that aloud would probably ruin the moment.

After thirty seconds, Valeria was no longer smiling the same way.

"You know how to dance."

"I know how to move to a rhythm."

"That is dancing."

"Then yes."

"Black Hound again?"

"Part of cover training."

"They taught you dancing?"

"They taught us not to look like idiots when a mission required entering places like this."

Valeria looked at him.

"I’m learning far too many irritating things about you tonight."

"I thought you liked that."

"Only when I’m the one with secrets."

Raven turned with her.

Valeria’s dress swept around her legs without touching him.

She still guided some of the finer movements.

He adapted quickly.

That seemed to annoy her even more.

"You have an unfair advantage."

"Which one?"

"Your ability to read movement."

"That isn’t unfair."

"You say that because you have it."

Another couple passed too close.

Raven tightened his hand slightly at Valeria’s waist and guided her clear.

She noticed.

She said nothing.

They continued.

Something about her had changed now that she wasn’t speaking to other nobles.

Less performance.

Less carefully calibrated smiling.

Raven preferred this version.

The music covered enough of their conversation to give them privacy.

Valeria looked up at him.

"I’m curious."

"That usually ends badly."

"Only for you."

"That confirms the pattern."

Valeria hesitated.

That was unusual.

Raven noticed immediately.

"Ask."

"Between Nyxara and me, who do you find more attractive?"

Raven looked at her.

He hadn’t expected that.

Although after the last few days, perhaps he should have.

"Do you want a diplomatic answer?"

"No."

"Then you."

Valeria missed a step.

Only half of one.

Raven adjusted his hand at her waist and steadied her before anyone could notice.

She recovered.

"That was too fast."

"You asked."

"You could simply be telling me what you think I want to hear."

"I could."

"Then I want to know why."

Raven studied her as they continued moving.

Valeria knew exactly what she looked like.

She knew how to use it.

Which meant a generic compliment would be useless.

Black Hound taught something simple about persuasion