I ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED A DUNGEON

Diana was crouched at the window, knees clutched close against her body, looking at nothing in the courtyard below. In the distance beyond the hedges, two servants continued to talk, not noticing or not caring that they were audible.

"...heard it from someone at the barracks, that the entire matter is being thoroughly investigated..."

"...I wonder why the Duke hasn’t done anything yet, considering who it concerns..."

She brought her knees closer together and remained still.

...

"You understand this, don’t you?" Duke Osbel was still sitting behind his desk, not bothering to lift his eyes from the papers scattered around him. "A few days are going by before a very important event takes place for Diana. Before that happens, she doesn’t leave these grounds. The rumors will eventually fade by themselves."

"Yes, sir." Hakimi managed to keep his voice level and nodded. "Because of my carelessness, Lady Diana’s name has suffered damage. I realize that acting openly would only harm her now. Nevertheless, I will uncover the person responsible for all this."

"As long as you don’t step outside these walls during all that, I haven’t any objections to that matter." Osbel bent his pen again, already beginning to sign something. "Now go see Diana. She has not opened her door since this morning."

Hakimi made a small bow and went out of the study. Moving down the lengthy corridor toward her room, he encountered several servants who greeted him quietly but did not answer their friendly greetings – he looked composed and emotionless even though he had curled his hands into fists, feeling something bitter and vexed rising inside him with each step he took.

Stopping at her door, he knocked twice. "Lady Diana. Please, open the door."

"No. I will not." The sound of her voice came muted through the door, edged with something like the tears deliberately held back.

"Whichever rumor you have heard, none of that is true. You know that."

"I don’t know that. They can be true. You cannot promise me that it isn’t the case."

Hakimi let out a long sigh, pressing a hand to his face.

I cannot leave the palace grounds. Cannot act openly in this matter. Who else is there left to ask.

An image suddenly appeared in his mind despite himself, the image of an easy, enraging grin. He shook his head sharply, mumbling to himself.

"No. Anybody except him. I am not asking that insect for assistance."

Ten minutes into it, the argument between Felix and Orin, with Orin’s shadow Driscoll chiming in from the sidelines every few sentences, had already worn through most of Felix’s patience. Two weeks since the Marisol job, and not a single decent contract had come his way since. His savings had run dry entirely, and the last of it had gone toward finally paying Dune her promised share, which left him standing in the guild hall with next to nothing in his pockets and even less in his mood.

He’d come in hoping to grab whatever was easiest off the board, and instead landed directly in the path of the most insufferable man in Fillipo. Felix couldn’t fully explain it, but something about Orin’s face alone was enough to raise his blood pressure on sight, and behind him, as always, Driscoll trailed close, mouth running the second there was an audience to perform for.

"Didn’t you hear, punk? This job’s not for the likes of you." Orin leaned back against the counter, already grinning. "Go polish some noble’s boots, maybe you’ll scrape together a silver or two that way."

"Yeah, yeah." Driscoll snorted. "Why waste your time in here when you could be off playing house with that bitch of yours."

"I wasn’t even after that job." Felix waved a hand dismissively. "Tobin, just give me something less of a headache. I don’t feel like standing around here any longer than I have to."

"Knew you’d say something like that." Orin shook his head slowly. "Always the same with you, ever since Silas and Gerrett carried you through half your jobs. Real sneaky way to make a living. Pathetic, honestly."

Felix let it go, turning instead to watch Tobin flip through the board behind the counter.

"Maybe Anthony had it right about you after all." Orin took a slow drink from his mug. "Careless bastard, through and through. That’s why he left without you, isn’t it? Can’t say I blame him. Who’d want to keep dragging around dead weight like you?"

"Anthony didn’t leave me." Felix’s palm slammed flat against the counter, rattling the mugs beside it. "He asked me to come with him. I said no. There’s a difference."

"Or you just already knew you’d screw it up somehow." Driscoll broke into laughter at his own line.

"Anthony would’ve cleared this job without breaking a sweat." Orin said it calm, almost bored. "Just admit you’re nowhere close to him anymore. Grab something cheap and get out of my sight."

Felix sucked in a slow breath and let it go through his teeth. "Tobin. Give me that job."

"You sure?" Tobin glanced up, hesitant. "It’s genuinely dangerous. I was actually planning to send this one to the city knights instead."

"That’s not exactly Felix’s call to make." Orin drawled. "Listen to your elders, kid."

Felix’s head snapped toward him. "I’ll show you exactly how far I actually am from Anthony. You think just because I haven’t taken a real job in a few months, I’m some weak piece of shit like the two of you? You haven’t seen a fraction of what I can actually do."

"Oh, is that right?" Orin pushed off from his stool, dropping his mug with a careless clatter. "Haven’t seen half of it, huh. Funny, because I don’t particularly care what you’re capable of. All I know is I can wipe that stupid look clean off your face without much effort at all."

"Try me, then, you dipshit." Felix flicked a card up between two fingers, already spinning slow.

Orin smirked, and a gust of wind began circling low around his boots, kicking up dust across the floorboards.

"Both of you, stop!" Tobin’s voice cracked sharp across the room, drawing every eye. "You both know exactly what happens if a fight breaks out in here."

"Tell that to the overconfident idiot in front of me," Orin said, closing the distance, wind pressure building visibly around him now.

"Didn’t realize you were that tired of living." Felix held his ground. Behind him, Dune’s hand curled slowly into a tight fist.

"Just take the job." Tobin slapped the notice down hard against the counter. "Get out of here, both of you, now."

Orin’s eyes flicked toward the paper, and the wind around his boots settled, dying back down. "Why waste my strength on someone who’s about to get their ass handed to them out there anyway."

Felix snatched the notice off the counter before anyone could stop him. "I’ll deal with you properly once I’m back. Don’t you dare run off before then."

He turned and stormed out, Dune uncurling her fist and following close behind. Behind them, Orin’s laughter rang out loud across the hall, the rest of the room watching in uneasy silence.

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