The invitation lay on top of the packet when I opened the drawer.
I had put it there to keep it flat. Now I had to move it before I could reach the order.
Bastian Merrow requested my company at a small dinner that evening. His circle had offered provisional backing for my Silver practice allocation after the promotion. I had treated the dinner as the polite part of an arrangement that would continue unless I did something remarkably stupid.
The household would probably have a word for what I was about to do.
Stupid would be one of the kinder choices.
I set the invitation aside and checked the packet against the clerk's list. The alteration instruction and the false-charge order, both bearing Cedric's seal. The certified pay extract. The record of charges. The dispatch marks that connected them to the house.
