Well. Here we are.
Tailor on the Roof is out tomorrow, and I genuinely cannot quite believe I'm typing that sentence.
For those of you who've been here since the beginning - since the first fumbling chapters of SJ's story hit webserial platforms back in February 2024 - thank you. Properly. You were the ones who told me this was worth something when I was just a 48-year-old maths teacher sitting at a laptop at 0400hrs, wondering if anyone would care. You cared. And that changed everything.
Two published books. A six-book deal with Podium Entertainment. Over 850,000 reads on WorldAnvil. And now Book 3.
Tailor on the Roof is where things start to get complicated for SJ. She's been building her skills, finding her people, navigating a world that keeps throwing the unexpected at her. Now Asterfal opens up, and with it comes something she can't account-balance her way out of - real moral weight. The assassin part of Fae Assassin becomes concrete.
Dave, naturally, has opinions about all of it.
If you're picking up Book 3 fresh, you'll find it on Amazon Kindle and in print. The audiobook is following in June - a short delay, but worth the wait.
If you're a WorldAnvil regular continuing the journey here - I see you, and I'm grateful for every comment, like, and follow. This community is the backbone of everything.
Right then. SJ's got a city to navigate.
Let's go.
Bosloe
Chapter 50 – Petunia’s
The light was fading in the early evening sky as SJ made her way to Petunia's. The Chancellor's convoy had returned from Killic to the shrill fanfare of horn blasts announcing his return, which SJ had even heard from her room balcony.
"SJ," Petunia said with a grin as she answered the door. "Come in and make yourself at home. I'm just finishing dinner off, and Isavil is in the lounge."
"Thanks," SJ said, walking past her friend.
Petunia disappeared back towards the kitchen, where SJ could hear voices. She walked through to the lounge, which wasn't so much a lounge as a library, with shelves full of books, several large high-backed chairs, and a large dining table and chairs. Isavil sat in one of the high-backed chairs, looking tired.
"Hey," SJ said, entering. "How was the journey?"
"Quiet, as quiet as it can be travelling with Petunia," Isavil whispered conspiratorially.
SJ chuckled. "She does like to talk."
"I thought my ears might fall off at one point, and I nearly asked the chancellor if I could ride with him," Isavil said.
"I heard that," a voice carried from the kitchen, which made SJ and Isavil both laugh.
"Who’s she talking to in the kitchen?"
"Skuldor."
"I didn't realise Skuldor was back again?"
"Back again. He's moved in permanently now."
"What?" SJ said with surprise. "She's a crafty old one, isn't she?"
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Petunia said, appearing in the lounge carrying a tray filled with delightfully smelling fresh bread, hot from the oven.
"Nothing," SJ grinned.
Petunia walked to the table, placing the tray down, the delicious smell filling the room. "It won't be long, it's nothing special, just a stew," she said, disappearing again.
"You said you wished to talk to me about something?" SJ said.
"I do, but it can wait until we've eaten. It's not urgent."
Skuldor was next to enter, carrying a large carafe of wine and glasses, and taking them to the table.
"Hello, SJ," the beautiful creature said upon entering. SJ couldn't help but stare whenever she saw the valkyrie; they were all such magnificent beings. His brilliant white wings folded neatly behind his back. SJ noticed that the very tips of them were starting to turn silvery.
"Hi, Skuldor. I didn't realise you were staying here now?"
"Someone has to keep her on the straight and narrow," Skuldor smiled, his perfect white teeth on full display. Skuldor still looked youthful, even though SJ knew from conversations that he was indeed old now. She had never enquired how long valkyrie lived.
"Come, let's sit," Skuldor said, pulling out a chair at the table. Isavil and SJ joined him as they waited for Petunia.
Petunia came in carrying a large tray of steaming bowls of stew and dished them out before walking past Skuldor to sit, punching him on the arm as she did.
"What was that for?" he complained bitterly.
"I hear everything, remember," she said as she sat. "I'm sure it was more the fact that your doting daughter was worried about you and asked me if I would take you in."
SJ had only met Skuldor's daughter, Kara, the one time when she had come to support with the retaking of Killic. Her flight had been key to turning the battle and retaking their home. Zigferd had granted all of them the freedom of Killic in return for their support, and all were invited to remain if they wished. They had declined, as they were needed elsewhere, but several valkyrie had returned over the past twelve months on fleeting visits.
"When are you seeing your father?" SJ asked Isavil.
"Tomorrow. I haven't told him or Fasvil that I'm back yet. I want to surprise them."
"I think it will be an amazing surprise when you tell them you're pregnant."
"I know my father will be pleased. I'm not so sure about Fasvil."
"I'm sure he will be," SJ smiled, then blew on a spoon of very hot stew before tasting it. Petunia was no Master cook, but she was still very competent, and the earthy, peppery warmth of the stew with its crunchy vegetables was perfect.
They made small talk while they ate. Skuldor had been helping out in the districts at some of the churches dotted around the city. SJ knew the districts contained several, and that not all of them were very well maintained. Petunia was due back at the tower again. Although she was officially retired, she was still tied into almost everything that went on and kept herself busy. Isavil was going to spend a few days catching up with friends before she planned to return again.
Once the stew was eaten, Petunia and Skuldor disappeared back into the kitchen to clean up, leaving Isavil and SJ alone.
"I have a favour to ask," Isavil said once they had gone.
"What do you need?"
"The first is information that I think you will want to hear. The second is a favour."
"Go on."
"During the chancellor's visit, I overheard a conversation that I thought might interest you. I didn't want to tell Zigferd, as he would just have started to panic and get stressed about it. One of the trade envoys was discussing the recent concerns over the trading routes being targeted. Apparently, several trade caravans have been attacked over the past few months, and they have followed similar patterns of damage. The wagons are usually set on fire, destroying any goods. The beings on the caravans aren't being targeted directly. The concerning thing is that they suspect that it may be related to fae activities."
"I hope not," SJ said. There was still an underlying mistrust of fae, and Larianco was trying her hardest to negate as many problems as she could across the southern region, but was limited by her ability to deal with everything. Even with Sarontino present to help her, there were too many incidents to deal with, and one of them had to remain in Asterfal to handle the daily politics there.
"It's what is being rumoured. There have also been a couple of reports of dark elves being spotted in the vicinity of these supposed accidents as well. But the frequency of occurrences means they definitely aren't accidents."
"Damn. That's a problem."
"Yes, and I know you have always been concerned about the fae dark elf link, so I thought I'd better inform you."
"I'll speak to Larianco when I see her next. I think she is still away currently. At some point, I really want to help her, and I might even consider travelling to the fae capital."
Isavil looked a little surprised. "The capital. That's a long journey, and it also goes through some very dangerous territories."
"I'm aware. I wouldn't consider going until I levelled again anyway, and I would likely ask a friend to accompany me if I did."
"Fas?" Isavil asked, smiling.
"Yes. Although I'm not happy with him at the moment."
"Oh?"
"That's for another time. What else did you want to speak about?"
"Zigferd," Isavil sighed.
"What about him?"
"I'm worried about him. Ever since he discovered my pregnancy, he won't leave my side for more than five minutes. He keeps making excuses to return home from the barracks throughout the day. He has recently missed several meetings he should have attended."
"I've heard no one mention anything," SJ frowned.
"Why would they? He is the mayor of the town and has the freedom to choose what he does. The problem is that elven pregnancies aren't like those of many beings, and I don't think I can cope with him doting over me the way he has been for the next two years. I'm still capable of looking after myself. I wondered if you could have a quiet word with him when you return. I don't want to hurt his feelings, as I know he is just doing it because he cares so much, but I feel like I have a rope tied around my neck. I went to reach for a book in the study the other day, so I climbed onto a chair, then got berated and told to be more careful."
SJ couldn't keep the smile off her face. "If anything, all that does is prove his love for you."
"I know, but it's suffocating. I wouldn't give him up for the world, but I'm not incapable."
"I'll see what I can do when I go back."
"If you could, I would appreciate it. I haven't had a chance to speak to either you or Alice about it in private, as he is always present. And he listens to the pair of you."
"I'm sure between us we can come up with something."
"Thank you."
Petunia and Skuldor returned, prompting the customary sherry to be handed around. Isavil declined, while SJ accepted it readily after the day she had had. The conversation was pleasant, and SJ updated them on what she had discovered about the Ponzi scheme and her recent visit to the jail.
"It seems you have been busy," Skuldor said.
"Am I ever not?"
"What's your next step then?" Isavil asked.
"I don't know yet. The implication was that they wished me to deal with the Chief."
Petunia scratched her cheek thoughtfully. "That is a very dangerous ask." Her serious tone was clear.
"I'm aware. I have a vague idea of her reach and ties to the city. I don't know what she holds over the Tower, but it has to be significant for her to have immunity."
Petunia didn't show her emotions as she replied. "The dirt runs deep, much deeper than you can ever imagine. Corruption built this city, while many in the Tower turned a blind eye to it, usually by taking bribes and by surprisingly profitable contracts landing in their laps. The Chief has manipulated many of the leading noble families and merchants. I don't know the exact details, but I've heard enough whispers in the Tower corridors over the years."
"Three chancellors ago, Haswink attempted to deal with the city's corruption, directly targeting the Chief. He ended up dying due to an unfortunate accident. We all knew in the tower it was no accident, but no one could ever confirm how it occurred."
"What accident?"
"He was a cavalier, had lived around horses all his life before moving into politics, and apparently was kicked in the head on a visit to the stables by a new horse they were breaking. No one could believe he would ever have been so stupid as to walk to the rear of an unbroken horse," Isavil said.
"It does sound suspicious," SJ agreed.
"Very," Petunia added. "There was no one who believed it, but also no proof to contradict it."
"What about Henrik then? Why is he challenging the corruption if there is that level of threat?" It was Skuldor who spoke, using the Chancellor's first name.
"He doesn't target the Chief. He never has, and he also knows more about the city's history than many do, starting from the streets as he did. He is the first Chancellor to rise through the ranks the way he has, and he knows the dangers involved."
"It's not the Chief that concerns me," SJ said. "It's what happens if she is removed from her position of control. The fallout across the city could be problematic."
"It may be, but no one has ever got close enough to her to be able to deal with her, even if they wished. She always has her defences up, and her henchmen are ruthless," Petunia said.
"What about the Master?" SJ said.
Petunia looked at SJ with not a startled but a concerned expression. "How do you know of the Master?"
"I met him."
"What?" Petunia shouted. "You met the Master and survived?"
"Yes. Why?"
Petunia and Isavil were both shaking their heads, wearing shocked expressions. Skuldor looked confused.
"Because he is the most dangerous being in the city," Isavil stated. "If you think the Chief is bad, he is the epitome of evil. More beings have vanished since he arrived in the city than before Gall..."
Petunia cut Isavil off. "Don't speak that name, please."
"Before him and the Chief ran the streets between them."
"Why have none of you ever spoken to me about this before?" SJ asked, perplexed that her friends knew so much about all of them. Then again, considering the ages of elves and gnomes, it wasn't surprising. SJ wasn't sure how long Isavil had lived in the city, but Petunia had always had ties to Asterfal.
"It's not the general topic of conversation over a dinner table," Petunia said.
"Can someone explain what you are talking about?" Skuldor asked.
"The Master is a vampire who controls large areas of the Districts. He has a clan here in Asterfal."
It was Skuldor's time to look shocked, and he crossed himself as he spoke. "You have a vampire with a clan in the city? I thought clans were banned from being grown across the empire?"
"They are," Petunia confirmed. "There are strict controls in place for all vampires and their offspring; they cultivate. The situation regarding the Master is a little different, though. It revolves around the person I won't name and the history that brought his arrival here from Luxoria."
As the conversation unfolded, SJ listened carefully to what Petunia explained. It was an outside perspective, not the first-person view Fas had written about in his book. It followed a similar thread, though the threats across the streets had become too volatile, and there was no one with the power to deal with Gallenshaw, so the Master was sent by Luxoria under the proviso that he could establish a clan on his successful removal.
"I can't believe there is a vampiric clan in Asterfal," Skuldor spat vehemently. His hatred was obvious.
"You need to calm down. You will give yourself a mischief," Petunia said.
"A mischief? If I ever see the beast, I will give him more than mischief," Skuldor looked furious.
"You have a strong hatred for vampires," SJ said.
"Strong? I wouldn't say 'strong'; I would say 'absolute.' It was one of their treacherous kind that killed my wife after I struck down an illegal clan in the western isles."
"You took out a clan?" SJ asked in amazement. From the brief experience of her dealings with seeing Navina's power, never mind the aura that the Master had given off, she knew she was no match for them.
"Skuldor is a gravonic cleric," Petunia stated, as though SJ should know what it meant.
"What's one of those?" SJ asked.
"I destroy undead. It's my class specialisation," Skuldor answered.
SJ allowed his comment to sink in. There may just be a way sitting only feet away from her to deal with the Master after all.
SJ is stepping into a web of corruption and power, and the reveal of the Master makes the stakes feel huge. Skuldor’s past hints she might finally have a way to face this threat.