Wanda Pedersen’s Reviews > The Exquisite Torment of Loving Your Enemy > Status Update

Gauges spun and rang, inscribed with things that weren't letters or numbers. Ruain consulted them frequently, followed by bits of mysterious arithmetic on a notepad. Osric's respect for the Leyfarer Order increased substantially; all his Order required was a bit of stabbing.

Mrs. Parson remained grave. "You're lucky Haelen Fairhrim was with you when Lady Windermere made her move."
"I realize that."
"I took the liberty of burning the body."
"Putting the arson in Parson," Osric said, nodding.

She was snatched bodily out of the corridor and into a tiny, grimy toilet. A gloved hand over her mouth muffled her scream.
In the dimness of the toilet, Aurienne saw that it was Mordaunt.
They were obscenely compressed together.
"Bit of a tighter squeeze than I thought," said Mordaunt.
Aurienne agreed; she'd had less intimate mammograms.

She came to the bust of Pliny the Elder and followed the curve of his cheek with a fingertip. Osric was savagely jealous of Pliny the Elder, who was a harlot.

"Your wife has arrived, sir," said the waiter.
Behind him stood a figure. It was not Osric's wife, given that he did not have one. He did not have a significant other of any kind. He did have a significant irritant, however.

The waiter, satisfied that he had ruined everything, left.

Aurienne was greeted by his motley pack of dogs. Rigor Mortis (Great Dane), Arson (retriever), Perjury and Forgery (border collies), Outraging Public Decency (bulldog; prolific farter), High Treason (borzoi) and Creme Brulee (whippet) all limped to her and collapsed around her feet. Tails flumped at the floor in greeting.

He conceded that he was attracted to her. That was all this was.
As far as conclusions go, it was perfect. It sidestepped the impossibility altogether. He did not love her. He was relieved. He could go back to normal.
He took on extra jobs because whenever he was feeling poorly, a bit of murder sorted him out.

Days passed. Osric moped. He was generally depressed. He cast himself onto several divans in several tragic poses.

When we first met Osric Mordaunt, assassin extraordinaire and occasional dickhead, he is afflicted with seith rot, a disease that erodes his powers and will eventually kill him.