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"So... predictable." He mused aloud, his voice dripping with condescension.

He\'d been listening in, as planned, thanks to Bella\'s unique ability but probably not in the way they\'d been expecting.

Turning away from the scrying mirror that displayed the faint remnants of the letter\'s quickly fading energy, he nodded his head towards Bella, who stood to the side with a blank expression. "Thank you, Bella. Your ability was, as always, most useful."

Bella nodded slightly, her face impassive, as she quietly faded back into the shadows, leaving the Necromancer alone with his guest.

Helena sat across from him, sitting comfortably in an overstuffed chair. She sipped her wine as if she were at a leisurely dinner party rather than in a meeting with one of the most dangerous vampires present in First City.

The Necromancer leaned forward, moving closer, his gaze fixed on her. "As you saw for yourself, Ezra has received the letter." He said, the edge of a smile still lingering on his lips. "He\'s a lot more... smarter than I thought he\'d be."

"That\'s Ezra Matten for you." Helena said, her eyes fixed on the now dark mirror. "Powerful but without the arrogance of the other vampires at his level."

"One of the perks of advancing the rings as quickly as possible." The Necromancer smirked. "You\'ll always be getting used to your power and will never stop to get so used to it that you develop an overinflated ego which we all know is a vampire\'s worst enemy."

Helena hummed in agreement and he watched her in amusement. He knew he was suffering from the same thing.

Every vampire that lived long enough, including himself, thought of themselves as master planners, able to weave plans within plans that would trap their fellow vampires.

"Now, tell me, Helena." He said. "What\'s the next step of your plan?"

Helena placed her glass down on the small table beside her, the sound of it touching the wood barely audible.

She met his gaze calmly, her demeanor unflappable. "The plan isn\'t to attack Ezra directly." She began, her tone steady. "It\'s to roll him up slowly, piece by piece."

The Necromancer\'s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of mild irritation. "And why not just attack him outright? Why not finish this now?"

Helena\'s gaze hardened, her expression becoming more intense. "Do you think Ezra wouldn\'t be prepared for an attack? Do you think he\'s so easy to defeat? If that were the case, would you have entertained my plan in the first place?"

The Necromancer didn\'t respond immediately, but the silence between them was telling. They both knew the answer. Ezra was no ordinary vampire. He was a prince strong enough to fight above his rings.

His mind went back to the first night he\'d met Ezra at the Ascendant Capital rooftop. Ezra had come with his wives. This would probably be the case this time. A direct attack would be costly, and the risks outweigh the potential rewards.

Seeing his understanding, Helena continued. "The point of the meeting at Ascendant Capital isn\'t to attack, but to establish a point of contact with Ezra. You need a way to reach him, a channel of communication that he won\'t easily close. Once that\'s in place, we can proceed with the rest of the plan. But until then, patience is required."

The Necromancer nodded slowly, acknowledging her words. He didn\'t like waiting, but Helena\'s logic was sound. The long game often yielded the most fruitful rewards, especially when dealing with someone as dangerous as Ezra.

Satisfied with their discussion, Helena stood, smoothing the creases in her uniform. "I\'ll leave you to your preparations." She said, her voice laced with finality. "Contact me when the next phase is ready."

With that, she turned and walked out, leaving the Necromancer to his thoughts. He watched her leave, not liking her tone one bit. The woman was too bossy. When their business ends, he\'ll have to find a way to teach her a thing or two about manners.

Moments after Helena left the room, Z entered, his presence announced by the soft rustling of the cloak he\'d taken to wearing. The Necromancer turned his attention to his... loyal servant, his expression once again shifting to one of amusement.

"Report." He commanded. It was time to hear what everyone was up to.

Z bowed his head in respect before speaking. "My lord, Ivo and Armand have been cooped up at the Old Museum. They haven\'t come out in days. Intelligence states that they\'re guarding the place from any sabotage."

The Necromancer\'s eyes narrowed. He\'d decided to pursue Helena\'s plan but that didn\'t mean he couldn\'t keep an eye on his targets. If Vladimir asked about his progress, he could confidently say the truth. There\'d been no chance to set up an ambush or even attack them.

He turned to Z. "Keep watching them. I need to know their every move."

Z nodded, but hesitated slightly before continuing. "There\'s more, my lord."

"More?" The Necromancer poured himself a glass of blood wine, a brow raised.

"Yes, my lord. Ezra was spotted at the farmer\'s market recently. He attended an underground auction."

The Necromancer sipped his drink with a thoughtful frown, his interest piqued. "Ezra Matten at the farmer\'s market? Is the information reliable?"

Z met his eyes confidently. "I confirmed it myself. He was there."

A slow smile spread across the Necromancer\'s face. He knew he was expending vitality everyday to keep his horde\'s intelligence and thinking ability running and this couldn\'t be sustained for too long but with benefits like this, it was worth it. Besides, he was replenishing every drop of vitality he used.

"Interesting." His eyes went to the crates of blood wine arranged along the wall. By the time he was done in First City, he\'d be the brokest he\'d ever been.

"Keep a close watch on the farmer\'s market. I want to know everything that happens there. Report any developments to me immediately."

"Yes, my lord," Z responded, accepting the command.

As Z left the room, the Necromancer leaned back in his chair, thinking on his next steps. Helena\'s plan was solid, but Ezra\'s appearance at the auction hinted at something else. A new opportunity?

One way or another, the game was moving forward, and he intended to stay several steps ahead.