I ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED A DUNGEON

"What kind of job?" Felix leaned forward a little. "And how much?"

"I have a house in North Ward, and some men have broken in and taken possession of it, not willing to leave," Bosin brought his hands together. "I need them out."

"Just that?" Felix’s brows raised a little. "Expelling them doesn’t seem like such a complicated task. You could’ve hired anyone from the streets to do it."

"I want this done discretely and as quickly as possible."

Felix tapped his knee thoughtfully. *A quiet job right in the middle of the city. Silver is good enough for a low-profile job. Better than having me worked to death again like last time.*

Bosin extracted a purse and showed it to him. "I’m in no hurry. I can wait a whole week if it comes down to that. The only thing that matters is that the house remains untouched after it’s done."

Felix took the purse and weighed it in his hand once. "All right. I’ll take the job. Let us go to see the place first then."

Bosin gave Dune a fleeting glance but didn’t say anything and walked towards the carriage waiting outside the door. Felix followed him, while Dune was walking a step behind.

The carriage went on for almost ten minutes, and the scene changed gradually the whole time, cracked roads turning into cobbled streets, houses becoming bigger and nicer-looking further from the center, the noble quarter was clearly visible now.

Felix crossed his hands and cleared his throat. "Anything else that I ought to know about those people who took possession of the house?"

Bosin took his eyes from the streets outside. "It’s my older brother’s work, Bron. My father died two weeks ago and he had divided the estate amongst the three of us beforehand, but now Bron wants more, claiming he deserves it for being the one who looked after our father during his last days because of the will. That because I am his younger brother, I must submit to him."

"That doesn’t seem very sensible." Felix bit down on the inside of his mouth to restrain a sharp comment.

"That’s exactly what he says too." Bosin replied, his eyes hard. "But father made the distribution clear specifically so we wouldn’t squabble about it when he died. It was Bron’s greed the entire time."

"Then do you really think that ridding him of his men is going to solve that?"

"It better be." Bosin said, clearly unsure himself. "He has been stealing what isn’t his, by force, and I am answering back the same way. He needs to understand that he cannot take advantage of me."

"So you’re just going to keep piling it up between the two of you then, rather than solving anything?"

"That is my only alternative left." Bosin said, meeting Felix’s gaze fully. "The only reason why I am coming to you is that I know you do things in your own clean way." He held the look for a moment more. "Is there any way for you to resolve this, once and for all?"

"I..." Felix popped his neck and spun a card between his fingers. "There is."

Bosin froze in place, his eyes locked on the King of Diamonds spinning between Felix’s fingers. "So you want me to have my brother killed?"

"No, no, no." Felix hurried to clarify, still flustered by the sudden revelation. "I mean, of course not. Killing your brother is an entirely different risk level, and a stupid thing to boot."

"Good, since I wouldn’t do that either." The muscles of Bosin’s shoulders relaxed back into place. "Okay then, what precisely is it that you had in mind?"

"Well, quite difficult to describe but I will be able to take care of it without making any unnecessary fuss," said Felix as he traced the edge of the card with his thumb. "Although I will need a bit more money than I originally expected."

"Oh, certainly, certainly." Without a moment’s pause, Bosin reached for his pocket and pulled out ten more pieces of silver. "Here. Ten more."

"Well, thank you for your kindness, sir," said Felix with a small smile. "I will do my best to resolve the situation to your satisfaction."

Soon enough, the carriage halted and Bosin pointed through the window towards a neatly maintained two-story wooden structure situated behind a small garden with hedges and flower beds properly tended, despite all that was happening around them. Not a single soul could be seen outside, not a hint of activity from the street, even though there seemed to have been some activity in one of the windows upstairs, judging by the faint movement of the curtains within.

Felix glanced at it and nodded. "All right, now take me to Bron."

"To see him personally?"

"No. I just need to see his face, and where he stays." Felix sank back into the seat. "It would be better if I were aware of his schedule, too, and the things he does when he is not working. And stay well out of his sight for a while, at least the next few days."

The night descended on the town, heavy and dark, lamplights flickering on the streets and at every gate, the city guards relieving one another at their stations with swift efficiency.

André took a look outside the window at the deserted street, but then dragged his eyes back inside. It had been three days since his master had assigned him to guard this place. The task was quite straightforward, he was supposed to let nobody in and report all the unusual happenings without delay. On the first day, Bosin had appeared at the gate with several men, yelling his threats through the fence. Andre hadn’t moved, expecting the fight to start anytime but not reacting to it. Some part of him almost desired that.

"Bring me something to drink."

Pedro, who had spent the better part of the hour pacing around the room, nodded and said: "I’ll be right there. Anything with it?"

"No."

Pedro headed downstairs, hitching his pants as he walked. As he reached the front door, he saw Alfredo standing with his sword drawn, making cutting movements into the air.

"You’re not going anywhere, swinging that sword around like a fool."

Alfredo kept swinging and didn’t seem to mind Pedro’s words. "Just wait and see."

Pedro chuckled softly to himself and headed towards the wine barrel to fill a wooden jug. Next to it on the ground, a card was lying, but he didn’t notice it until he filled the jug to the brim and drank the whole contents of it at once. "Haa. Now that’s refreshing."

Then he took the jug and a mug and started walking upstairs, whistling to himself, his head nodding to some melody that he was hearing alone. But then he stopped on the bottom step of the staircase. Another card was lying there on the floor, face down.

Pedro shook it off and kept walking upstairs. "Here, boss." He placed the jug on the table and filled the mug again; on the ground, another card was lying, under the floorboard where the table leg was meeting the wood. He picked it up with two fingers, turning it over.

"King of diamonds."

"What did you say?" asked André as he looked at him.

"Nothing. Just a card," said Pedro as he got to his feet and handed him the mug and showed him the card. "There are two more down in the lower level."

André paid no attention to him and just took a sip of his mug slowly.

Pedro shook his head and placed the jug on the side table. "I bet that it must be Fidel again; he plays too much with his cards scattered all over the place where he sits."

In the downstairs, in a smaller room by the hallway, Fidel and Arturo were seated cross-legged on the floor, with a pair of dice in front of them and a pile of copper coins divided unevenly in two piles.

"Odd," said Fidel and rolled the dice on the wooden floor.

They stopped with a four and a two on top.

"Even," said Arturo and picked up the coins to himself. "Now you have to pay up."

"That’s the fourth consecutive game that you won," replied Fidel and gave him a suspicious look. "You are obviously cheating."

"With the dice?" said Arturo, raising his hands. "How can any man cheat with the dice?"

"I do not know, that’s why I am saying that. You are cheating, but I have no idea how."

"Or maybe you are just bad at this game," said Arturo and picked up the dice. "I could have told you to stay with the cards. At least you have a brain for those."

"I have a brain for those because you cheat at cards too."

"Prove it."

"I don’t have to, I just have to lose to you each and every time and that is my evidence." Fidel sighed, got up and went to the bathroom. "I have to piss."

He went out on the balcony and took a deep breath of cool evening air. He opened his pants and released a big flow while watching the empty street with lamplight on the stone streets below. When he finished, he tried to go back in but stepped on something flat.

He looked down. It was a card, face up, with some low number. He kicked it away and went inside.

"Do you see that?"

"What do you see?"

Arturo pointed toward the floor where three cards were now strewn about amidst the dice. Not one of them was there minutes earlier. "Is this one of your tricks? Trying to get your copper coins back another way?"

"I don’t have any tricks. I don’t even know where those came from." Fidel bent down and picked one up, flipping it around in his hands, as if maybe it could somehow speak to him. But it did not. He put it back down again. "No, wait. There was one on the balcony as well."

"What are you talking about, a card on the balcony?"

"It’s just that when I stepped out onto the balcony, I stepped on something." Fidel rose up and walked over to the wardrobe, opening both doors. Only a few cloaks in there but behind the fold of a blanket in the corner was yet another card. He grabbed it, dropping it quickly as if it had burned him.

"Fidel."

"Just hold on." He kneeled beside the bed, pulling the end of the blanket aside and finding two more cards wedged between the boards beneath. His heart began beating faster. He traced his hand along the floorboards at the base of the wall and pulled a fifth card out from a crack in the corner.

"Arturo." His voice started to shake. "Those cards weren’t here before. I would have noticed. I’ve been sitting in this room for an hour."

Arturo did not reply immediately, only staring at the growing pile of cards in front of him and swallowing hard before saying, "Maybe someone is playing with you. Maybe someone else is trying to scare you."

"With five different cards in five different places? While I’ve been sitting right here?"

Fidel had already turned and bolted out of the door, his steps thundering down the stairs as sweat began pouring cold down his face. He burst into André’s room, slamming open the door without knocking and gasping out the warning.

"There’s someone in the house." His voice cracked hard on the last word. "There is someone inside with us."

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