---

---

---

---

---

---

The weather was as clear and sunny as it had been the day before, with the faint sound of the sea and the smell of the surf refreshing the air. Winton's streets had the general streams of people going about their business though they were quick about it. The streets looking a bit untidy from the trash that bordered the gutters of the street and the littered the path. In truth, there was an air of tired nervousness to Winton. The windows of several shops Jandar and Sybl passed were slightly dirty, the wares they could see through the window below the standard level of quality someone would sell to the nobility. Of course, this was commonplace for Sybl. The Warlord Prince had heard of the gifts the merchants had given the Queen and her ladies, the little trinkets that the ladies had acquired. Let along smelled some of them when one particular foolish girl did not remove the theft disk and filled Alice's parlor with the smell of rotten cabbage. The Queen had been beyond furious and banished the girl from her sight. It had been nearly a year ago and no one had made such a mistake again. In fact, thefts from the shops had gone down after the fiasco since the ladies were worried someone might curse them with worse. Still, as those about spied the Queen's servant they ducked their heads and hurried quickly out of the way of the two men. It was generally not good to bring attention to yourself around someone who could very well give the wrong impression to the flighty Queen. But as they continued through town towards the inn the districts became less wealthy, their windows proving a bit cleaner and people were less keen to hurry from Sybl's sight- at least until they recognized him.

The way back to the town from the Dark Gate, Gennar hardly said much. Instead the Eyrien warrior had a perplex look on his face as though he was torn between keeping his tongue in check and wanting to throttle an old woman for suggesting the hope for his land do something so dangerous. Let alone put the Black Widow and Healer in his charge in such a dangerous situation. Giving a strangled cough as a cart rolled past them kicking up the dry dust of the road. This section of town was as busy as the aristo district was not. People were hurrying about their work and hawking their wares as the group passed through the market where Jandar had first run into the priestess. But thankful with Gennar's size and race people gave the trio a rather wide berth, not wanting to draw the ire of an Eyrien warrior.

The courtyard of the inn was calm from the street as Fatima found the door opening and Denvar and Dareen toasting each other with glasses of some amber beverage. Looking up at the newly arrived group, Denvar smiled a beaming grin at his brother that showed far too many teeth to be friendly. "So, Lady Fatima, how did it go? Are we set to explore the legendary realm of Kaeleer or need we muddle about this port and take up piracy?" He gave the Queen a boyish grin that did not match his massive size. "I promise, I'll make one person walk the plank each day. Yar har har." In truth, he was trying to distract himself from the old memories of his father and wanting to strangle Gen for the hurtful words the man had casted at Faeril.

It was scant minutes after Gen had pulled out a chair for Fatima and was urging the Queen to sit in it, when the door opened again. Looking up at the sight of two people, Denvar and Gennar both stepped in front of the strangers. Shielding Fatima from sight, as they narrowed their eyes at two figures til the bright light of the sun dimmed enough for them to make out Jandar. Now the two Eyriens glowered at Sybl. The handsome man registering as a threat. "Who is your guest, Lord Jandar?" The formal title and wording was a challenge as the Green Jeweled Warlord- Gen- spread his wings slightly, seeming larger in the small inn's eatery. "We were not expecting company." While at odds with his brother, Denvar eyed the stairs hoping Faeril would not pick this time to come down them and they would keep one ace up their sleeve.

The walk back to the inn was leisurely only in the sense that their walking pace was slow and casual, and that the silence between Jandar and his new attachment did not feel particularly straining. However, the Warlord himself was deep in thought. He’d secured an invitation to Alice’s court with Fatima, but was it worth for his Lady to take upon? And could they afford for her not to go? The only way to avoid it would be to escape into Kaeleer before the next day, which may be difficult at best, impossible at the worst. It did also not escape his notice that Sybl did not have a good reputation within town; or rather, people most likely avoided him simply due to his association with the local court.

He entered the inn with a mild frown upon his face, but his face smoothed with relief as he noticed that Fatima was present with the rest of the group. “Ah, convenient that I’ve found you so gathered,” he commented despite the fact that not everyone was present. He eyed the posturing Gennar with a sigh. Jandar really wasn’t in the mood right then. Nonetheless, he uttered with a cool politeness, “I was about to explain that, Prince.” After saying as much, his gaze naturally fell upon his Lady. “As you know, I went to visit the local Queen for a bit of a chat. The short of it is that you were invited to lunch with her on the morrow,” he stated smoothly and with an odd monotony to his tone. However, his gaze was fierce and focused on Fatima. Some things, he’d rather discuss with private…or at least after they managed to deal with the little spy tailing him. “Sybl was sent as a guide, to show you around the town,” he added with obvious distaste – whether at the idea in general or the man in particular was unclear.

Dareen finished off her glass, having not drunk nearly enough alcohol to get anywhere near buzzed. The others arrived, and Dareen was sorry to say that she had probably accidentally spoiled what little remained of Denvar's mood. Some people didn't like talking about their past. Dareen was probably one of them- if only to people she actually wanted to like her. Like Fatima, who asked her about the tattoos that covered her body. That day Dareen had gone ahead and left about any details about the people who had given it to her. But Fatima would have to find out eventually.

Dareen blinked, shaking the thoughts out of her head and refocused on the task at hand. Jandar, Fatima, Mikhail, and a stranger had appeared. Apparently, he was a guide. Even though there was already some tension in the room. Dareen bought Jandar's explanation. At the very least, she was in no position to be judging unknown newcomers.

"Okay," She replied simply, quietly, giving a brief nod towards the man named Sybl. Perhaps they would get acquainted later. Now Dareen leaned against the counter and simply observed the situation unfolding. Ready to be useful to whoever asked.

---

---

Fatima walked back the rest of the way to the inn in silence. She had much to mull upon. How in the world were the going to get the black? Where was he at this moment in time? How far across the whole of Terrielle was she going to have to trek in order to secure him. And once she met up with him, how in darkness' name was she going to convince him to come with them?

She entered the inn and was relieved to see Denvar's happy face. His joking did much to soothe her frayed nerves. She gladly took the seat and brushed her curls back from her face. "It went... better than I expected. Though worse in some ways," she began. She did not want to give too many details in such a public setting. She did not have the time to continue her tale as Jandar entered the building with a new friend.

She frowned as she gazed upon the lanky stranger. She had not anticipated dealing with anyone new. And now they had a guide for around town? They needed to get out of town! She stood, having to peer around bulky Eyrian bodies to get a better look at the lad. He seemed young. And broken. Poor thing. She could feel the connection between them and that made her uneasy. What could this mean for the future of her group?

She turned her gaze to Jandar. "Did you accept this lunch invitation on my behalf?"

---

---

He could not claim to be entirely pleased, having to babysit some prince and his puppet Queen. It was, however, something to do that did not involve Alice, which in a way would be a nice reprieve. He lived to serve and that could get to be a very dull and painful life. He made no comments Jandar nor paid heed to the villagers. His mind was curious about this rogue Queen and what sort of wild thing she might be.

He entered the inn behind Jandar, hands clasped behind his back. His green eyes roamed the faces of the group collected here. Some Eyriens, quite bold for them to jaunt about Terrielle. They could be rough to deal with. A true odd assortment of creatures for a dangerous Queen. His eyes alighted on the small figure which came from behind the two brawny winged males. For a moment his whole world condensed to just her frowning face. His heart raced for he felt a connection he had lived his entire life dreaming he would feel. And it was to some backwater Queen. No, his backwater Queen. He couldn't imagine anything more beautiful than this woman.

He heard his name and snapped back to attention, reality re-forming around him. Ah yes, he was here on behalf of Alice. What did meeting this girl now mean though? He half bowed to the room upon his introduction and then his eyes were on the Queen again. There was an exploding war happening inside of him. He had to serve Alice until the end of his contract. But fie that vile woman! She was an ugly, paltry thing next to HIS Queen. But would leaving Alice for this woman cause more trouble than it was worth? Of course, it was worth it, wasn't it? This moment now was what sustained him through countless nights of tortures.

He remained sullen and quiet. He willed that her eyes should look upon him. His being screamed for her attention. But she spoke to Jandar, her gaze no more than fleeting upon himself. Sybl felt intense jealousy boil his guts and felt a deep disdain for the man in front of him. He shouldn't think like that. He scrubbed a hand over his face before approaching the bar. A drink would help. A drink always helped. He ordered something strong from the barman and waited for what would happen next.

Even though Mikhail knew they had no other option but to accept the price the old priestess gave them, he couldn't help but close his eyes, looking away for a second, sighing as Fatima agreed with the price. It was indeed a steep price and judging by Fatima's expression and the time she took to reply, she knew that as well. They would need to find a way to keep the black jeweled man under control. Otherwise, he could be a risk to the entire group.

As Fatima curtsied the old priestess and thanked her for her support, followed by a brief bow from Mikhail himself, she turned away from the old priestess, offering a smile towards both Mikhail and Gennar. Surprisingly, before they started making their way back to the inn though, Fatima took Mikhail's hands on her own, looking at him and thanking him for the words he said about her. Such gesture took Mikhail by surprise, as he wasn't expecting to be thanked by Fatima like that, especially seeing how heartfelt her words were.

"I... was merely stating the truth. You indeed are... different from the other queens." Mikhail said, without knowing how to react to what she had said very well.

"Apparently, maybe even enough to earn even the trust of someone like myself..." Mikhail thought as they made their way back to the inn.

Back at the inn, the situation seemed to have calmed down, judging by the scene they saw when arriving: both Denvar and Dareen toasting each other with an amber colored drink. That said, upon noticing them, Denvar's smile towards Gennar as he greeted them wasn't exactly 'friendly' but it was still better than nothing.

Just as Mikhail was going to sit down though, Jandar arrived through the door. What they weren't expecting though was the fact that he had someone with him. Someone that they had never seen before and most importantly, someone they couldn't trust. Both Gennar and Denvar immediately stood up, standing in front of Fatima, shielding them from the stranger. Mikhail, upon seeing the stranger, simply let go of the chair, giving up on the idea of sitting down as he stood still, watching the stranger with cold eyes and a watchful gaze.

When Jandar began explaining who was the stranger and why he was there though, Mikhail's expression didn't change even one bit. Until it was proven the contrary, the local queen was still a potential enemy and having a stranger, under her orders near them wasn't really a good idea. Even if Jandar also seemed to dislike the idea of having a 'guide', as he himself mentioned, Mikhail still didn't like the situation. Even though the stranger didn't appeared to be exactly capable... or even healthy, Mikhail knew best than to underestimate someone based solely on their appearance. Mikhail kept his eyes on Sybl, as he went towards the counter to ask for something.

Despite Mikhail's silence, not much was needed for anyone from the group to figure out what he was thinking. It was already a known fact for them, who were traveling with him for some time already, that Mikhail hated anything that was beyond his 'control', any 'variable' in his plans.

"This queen... What do you have to say about her?" Mikhail said, finally opening his mouth as he asked Jandar about the local queen.

"Drawing a queen, any queen's attention is rarely a good thing." Mikhail said, in a lower tone as he approached Jandar, being careful for not being heard by the guide.

---

---

---

---

---

---

The little old woman who ran the small tavern-inn gave Sybl a slightly irritated look. Everyone in Winton knew about their Lady's kept man or thought they did. The rumors were fast and furious about what Prince Sybl had done in other towns and villages and what services he offered, which were whispered and openly talked about and spanned from one end of the spectrum of jobs to the other. Having returned from her own trip to restock the small tavern that gave those who rented rooms above a decent place to eat, the tiny woman huffed and slid a steep glass of scotch to the man. The rest of the bottle was left on the counter as the woman retreated to the kitchen. Allowing her guests the run of the main floor, and keeping herself out of any souring conversation. Two Eyriens getting their hackles up was a plain warning to the fact trouble could very well be going down.

Gen and his brother exchanged slightly annoyed looks, Bellinar had disappeared again and while they were concerned as to what their brother was doing the pressing matter of Sybl's presence was a looming threat to the Queen they had pinned their hopes upon and their dear friend. But an agreement was reached and Gen, still riding a bit of a foul mood, sauntered over to lean against the wall at the foot of the stairs lest the Warlord Prince attempt to go up them and discover Faeril. Denvar, who was far more sociable, stepped back to allow Fatima to be seen and to see those about her better. Straying over towards Sybl, a Warlord Prince he could not be sure of."So you are here to act a guide... Generous of your lady. What sights do you recommend?" A slight cover to allow the others to gather themselves.

But a thought seemed to knock upon the outer shields of Fatima's mind. The place where surface thoughts and ideas were obvious, for the deeper in the mind one went the further into the self of the person they invaded. Learning more and more personal things. To invade another's mind was the Craft of the Black Widows, but any member of the Blood who had power enough could do it. The effects of what they could and would find varied. "I have been confined to the upper levels apparently. Gen informs me-" There was a troubled feel to the Eyrien woman's tone as she spoke on a distaff thread, woman to woman, with the Queen. A reluctance and almost apologetic thread wormed into the mental words but slight humor broke the edge off them. "That we have a guest who is of the Court of the Queen of Winton. He's not First Circle, is he? Though, another matter requires your attention and judgment." There was the source of Faeril's trouble as she relayed what she had learned of Dareen. The Black Widow quite obviously was torn as she was indeed furious at what had been done to her sister and knowing it had been on some level survival on Dareen's part. There was no room for forgiveness, not yet but perhaps in time.

“It was the kind of invitation where your acceptance was already assumed,” Jandar replied to Fatima. “So, unless you feel like making an enemy…” he trailed off with a shrug. Telepathically, he sent her the message of: “Unless we can escape to Kaeleer before noon tomorrow I’d say playing along would be prudent. But this Alice is a selfish covetous bitch, so we should be careful.”

Before he could continue, Mikhail approached him with another question. “Hm, she’s rather concerned with her own image,” he murmured. “Yes, I do realize, but I had to obtain certain information,” he matched the whisper. “And I have some other matters to report to our lady, so if you want to know more, you know what to do,” the Warlord stated.

He did approach Fatima, but rather than say anything out loud, he continued communicating via their minds. He didn’t doubt Mikhail could listen in if he so wanted.

“If you’ll recall, I visited the Queen to find Xandar…However, it appears they have already captured him, and may have already handed him over. Even if not, I don’t think we’ll be able to get him back at this point. As for the matter of lunch, well, either we accept or get rid of this hanger-on Warlord Prince and get the hell out of here. The final choice is, of course, yours.” Jandar explained to Fatima.

Mikhail watched silently as Denvar approached Sybl and tried to make some small talk. Despite his attempt, it was painfully obvious for Sybl that he wasn't trusted there and that his movements were being closely watched. With Gennar leaning against the wall near the stairs in order to prevent Sybl to go up in case he tried, it was clear that it would be foolish for him to try to do anything right now as all eyes were on him.

Focusing his attention on Jandar's words as he began talking a bit more about the invitation and the local queen, Mikhail couldn't help but have a bad feeling about her as Jandar described the queen. A queen concerned with her own image... One could assume she might be quite egocentric and selfish. Either foolish or, if they were unlucky, a scheming queen. Whether it was on purpose or simply a coincidence, it seemed like the queen's invitation was made in such a manner that they had no other alternative but to attend it. Either that or be sure that they were already far away from there before the dinner began.

As Jandar approached Fatima he began communicating with her via their minds, a smart choice considering they had a warlord prince that was part of the local queen's court hearing everything they were talking. Staying in silence, Mikhail listened to their conversation, only to figure out that Xandar, whom was the reason for them to go to the local queen in the first place, was either already captured or even gone. Either way, it would be hard for Fatima but Mikhail agreed with Jandar. There was no way they would be able to get him back. That said, even though Jandar still considered accepting the invitation as a choice, Mikhail was certain that nothing good would come out of interacting with a queen. More than simple prejudice, it was one of his rules and one of the reasons why he was never caught or killed.

"Yeah, Sybl. Any good times to be had? You want a drink or something?" She gestured to the bottle of scotch that Denvar had purchased. "It's on him." She gesutred at Denvar, joking with a crooked, small smirk. Dareen didn't know anything about Sybl other than that he was new to the group, which Dareen could somewhat relate too. She was trying to back up Denvar in his attempt at small talk, hoping to bolster his image and make Sybl feel more welcome. Or at least like it was nothing personal against him.

Dareen couldn't find it in herself to act on her distrust of people who served the many wretched Queens of this land. After all she had been one until recently. So the least she could do was make them feel comfortable. Dareen wasn't sure who she served now- probably Fatima, but it's not like Fatima had ever actually asked Dareen to 'serve' her. Nor that she would once she inevitably learned the truth.

---

---

Sybl's movement caught Fatima's eyes briefly. She watched him approach the bar and then her gaze was whisked away back toward Jandar as he spoke. And then Spoke. She gave him a mirthless smile. Lovely, lunch with some dumb bitch. She inwardly winced at the words he threw to her on a thread. “Unless we can escape to Kaeleer before noon tomorrow I’d say playing along would be prudent. But this Alice is a selfish covetous bitch, so we should be careful.”

She sent back, her heart heavy, "I'm afraid it may take us some time before we can make it to Kaeleer." She did not have time to expound on this. Faeril demanded her attention as well. She was having so many threads knock at her mind's door in so short a span of time, she wasn't used to it. Involuntarily she turned in the direction of Faeril's 'thread' half expecting the woman to be standing there. She was not, which was probably for the best considering they had a spy in their midst.

The thread she sent back was sent, hesitantly, on a red distaff thread. 'He is in fact in front of us and will be joining us for a time as a... tour guide. I'm afraid we cannot escape him. Curiously though... I believe him to be one of mine. I am not sure what this means for us.' She was ready to cut the thread. However, there was more to be said from Faeril. Fatima's brows knit in confusion and she interrupted the black widow, 'Look, I'm sorry, but there are things that require my immediate attention now. Dareen has been a good companion this whole time and we can discuss her wrongs later tonight.' She knew her words were short and clipped. She knew Faeril would not like to hear that. But right now, Dareen, with the most kindness meant, was the last thing on her mind. The thread was immediately cut. She did not want to attract attention flaunting what could be considered such a high level jewel in mixed company. That was, should anyone be looking.

Jandar was knocking again and this time he brought heavy news. Her heart sank and she had to fight to keep from falling to her knees. And to keep tears of frustration from her eyes. There was just too much going on right now, too much that needed her attention. And this was the worst new she had received thus far. Though she had not let Faeril get far in telling her much about Dareen. “If you’ll recall, I visited the Queen to find Xandar…However, it appears they have already captured him, and may have already handed him over. Even if not, I don’t think we’ll be able to get him back at this point. As for the matter of lunch, well, either we accept or get rid of this hanger-on Warlord Prince and get the hell out of here. The final choice is, of course, yours.” He was likely gone and never to return. Jandar, having been her great support after the loss of the father figure in her life, could probably read her like a book. She gripped her skirts and did the only thing she could think of to help break that spell of anger which gripped her heart.

Spinning in a circle she smiled all coy and sweet. She perked up and primped up in the way her mother used to when she was trying to get a man's attention. "Well, if I am to visit with her Queen for lunch I must have a new dress. This one is so shabby!" She spoke in a light, sing-song voice that she figured any air-headed dope of a Queen might use. She threw a quick thread out to both Jandar and Mikhail 'Someone hang me now. For how long am I going to have to play simple and simpering?' She then flounced her way over to Sybl and gave him a syrupy smile as she threaded her arm through his. "You will show me to the best shops, yes?" 'I am so sorry.' again to Mikhail and Jandar.

---

---

Sybl was fully immersed in his own world of self-hatred turned upon the other Warlord Prince in the room he considered to be a threat to this imagined relationship he held with Fatima. How woeful and stupid. He gulped down the first glass in one go before filling and swallowing down a second. His stony face did not betray the turmoil inside of him and he looked up with great surprise as he was suddenly accosted by one of the rough Eyriens. His time in court had taught him to distrust and dislike the breed immensely. They were good for rough sex and hard labor.

It was of a great shock when this one approached him in kindness and what could be considered quiet for an Eyrien. Sybl swirled his amber drink around in the splotchy glass. "That is the idea," he responded in cold indifference. He wasn't about to let on more than need be. And this man talking to him was taking away from his time spent inside his own head thinking miserable, stupid thoughts. He was then joined by a young, delicate brown-skinned woman with an array of fascinating tattoos over her marble etched face. Dareen caught his attention immediately and made him almost forget that he had an internal world he was working on. She was fascinating to look at. He could have honestly look at her all day. And he found himself wondering what sort of tattoos hid under her clothes. In a non-sexual way. Of course. Naturally.

Her question caused him to smirk darkly. He was tempted to reply 'The Queens Bedroom' but thought better of it. Such a thing was highly improper. It was truly the place he spent the most time and knew anything about. He had not spent much time in the city at all. Piss poor guide. Very good spy. He knew what he was here for. So, he began to list the places he had heard the others speak about over dinners or through pillow talk.

"The beach is, of course, very nice. A few private parks around as well. For those more city inclined the theater is a hotspot." He rasped out the words with difficulty before he had to cough and then take a drink. He wished they would stop asking questions. Sybl disliked having to talk and he had done quite a lot of it today. And it seemed he was going to have to do quite a bit more. The woman offered him a drink and he offered her one of his most disarming smiles. "Thank you but the matron of the bar left me my own. I would not wish to deprive you." Another cough. Another drink.

He dropped his glass entirely as a slender arm and warm hand entwined with his. He was caught offguard. She was TOuCHING him. Like actually touching his physical person. Electricity was pulsing through his nerves and he felt he was on cloud nine. He wanted to scoop her up and just smell her. Instead, he stared down at her, frowning. The words she said were catching up to his physical reaction to her touch. She wanted to buy dresses. Well of course she did! He would show her the best dresses in town. Anything she desired. He would go so far as to pay for them himself. No... sew them. Whatever she wanted! He took a breath. "As you wish."

---

---

---

---

---

---

Faeril sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the needlework she had settled back to do while their uninvited guest was below. It would hardly do for the Queen who presided over Winton to realize there was a Black Widow in her midst. The trouble that would cause could claim the life of the hope that the Eyrien woman had for their realm. As the thin needle slipped in and out of the cloth, Faeril's thoughts returned to her, dissatisfied with Fatima's reaction to her words. 'Liar.' She scolded herself absently as she crossed her ankles demurely. 'You just want to know what she meant by 'one of mine'. To find that one of this Lady Alice's men to belong in heart and soul to Fatima!' Shaking her dark head, Faeril hesitated slightly as a nagging suspicion came to her. Could it be a trap? A lure cast by another Black Widow? Faeril would like to think not, but there was reason for caution. Biting her lip and wondering if she dared risk it, she sent a tendril of thought along the Red to Jandar. A slim caress along his barriers to be accepted before she spoke mind
to mind with the Warlord. 'Do keep an eye upon him. He may belong to her, but unless I can take a look myself, he could be spelled by a Black Widow. Be careful.' The Black Widow's mind voice was soft, a spider's whisper as she withdrew unless someone reached out to her.

Denvar and Gennar blinked in slight shock as Fatima became a simpering woman. Privately Denvar was very glad Faeril was up in the rooms where she could not see this farce being played out. Necessary or not, he doubted she would have been able to keep a straight face. Sharing a raised brow with his older brother the Warlord Prince shrugged slightly. The voice of the Warlord Prince was surprising and both brother wondered as to what caused it, but that would not be the last surprise for them. The man had dropped his glass, which Denvar had grabbed by the Craft and placed upon the counter, as Faeril basically moved to abscond with the lad. Denvar would have intervened but for a subtle shake of Gen's head. The Green Jeweled Eyrien considering Sybl with narrowed eyes. "The Lady would require an escort of her own." He rumbled to Fatima in a polite reminder. "Perhaps finding a dress and the beach after would allow time for the makers to suit it better to the Lady's liking?" The words were far more elegant than any average Eyrien, then again Gen had lived with Faeril for centuries. He had picked up a few things.

Jandar almost chuckled at the contrast between Fatima’s thoughts and her assumed act. “Ah, perhaps going quite so far to emulate Alice’s behavior might not be necessary. I might have,” there was a mental cough as his initial amusement turned to a slight awkwardness, “described you to her as…mercurial, brash, willful, and young. I had hoped doing so might offend her sensibilities enough to not want to do anything with you.

“Either I was wrong or she wants to sway me. She had that covetous glint in her eye I didn’t like…” he confessed. Of course, it wasn’t something he was at all sure of, but he’d got a strange feeling from that Queen. A feeling that would prompt him to stay away, if he could. Unfortunately, it seemed that something was preventing them from going to Kaeleer, though Fatima was a bit to busy to tell him what.

As such, he directed a careful tendril of thought towards Mikhail, a very, very cautious and questioning one. If the other accepted the connection, Jandar would converse with him mentally; otherwise, he’d simply step closer and whisper. “Prince, you went with our Lady to enquire for the route, correct? I assume there is a condition, obstacle, or price we must fulfil or overcome before we are able to go?” the Warlord questioned.

Before the other could answer, Jandar was interrupted by Faeril, and so he rose a hand, imploring Mikhail to wait nonverbally. “I understand. I will be careful,” he replied to the Black Widow before the connection was broken.

He then turned back to the Prince, lowering his hand. “Excuse me, I just received a message,” he offered. Once again, either quietly or via a mind link, he said, “Did you know our new spy could be one of hers? Though I was warned he could be under certain influences,” he said, frowning at the thought as he eyed the unknown and possibly bewitched Warlord Prince.

Mikhail didn't try to conceive the fact he was listening to Fatima and Jandar's telepathic conversation despite his silence. In his opinion, the best thing they could do right now was to just stay away from any queen, including the local one, Alice. Not only that but the way Jandar described her made her look like a real pain to deal with. Young or not, the local queen might still be a threat to them, which definitely wasn't something they needed right now.

Unfortunately, things didn't seem to go the way he preferred. The moment he saw Fatima spinning in a circle, he had an idea of what was about to happen and couldn't hide an almost annoyed expression as she did so. Unsurprisingly, Fatima mentioned that she was going to attend the queen's invitation for a dinner as she went towards Sybl, asking for him to show her good shops for her to buy a new dress. Even though her dissatisfaction was clear as she complained to them by telepathy about having to continue to act like that, it was a fact that they were going to put themselves in a potentially dangerous situation by attending to that queen's invitation.

Before he could voice his dissatisfaction and protest against how things were going, Jandar sent a telepathic message for him, inquiring about the route, the portal for Kaeleer, more specifically, about the price that they would have to pay in order for such portal to be opened. An important and crucial question. Before he could reply though, Jandar received another message. Mikhail waited patiently until he could talk to him again but when he did, Jandar had another information for him. One more complication that could become a serious problem in the future. Sybl, who was Alice's spy, apparently had felt the pull towards Fatima, just as she felt him as one of her own.

"I don't trust him nor the local queen." Mikhail replied, his mental voice clearly tired, exhausted and annoyed by the current developments.

"We cannot take any more risks, Jandar... The condition, the price for the portal to be opened is a harsh one... We are to take SaDiablo with us." he finished, with a grim tone in his mental voice.

"He is even more unpredictable and dangerous than Xandar was. A ticking bomb. To make things worse, we lack any means to keep him in check." he continued, with a worried tone.

"Regarding the local queen... This Alice... If we are indeed going to attend her invitation, we mustn't go unprepared in case something happens. There are too many things that can go wrong right now. One small mistake, one little error and our situation can get incredibly worse in the blink of an eye." he finished, looking to Jandar with a serious expression.

Dareen was mildly puzzled at Fatima's behavior, but assumed it was a part of her she just hadn't seen yet. To be honest, she looked the type to do such a thing, even if it was degrading. Sybl also gave her a look that she could only reasonably interpet in so many ways. There was a Black Widow upstairs. This man was working, serving, a local Queen, Alice. Fatima was the only non-bitch Queen Dareen had ever met, so it was safe to assume that she would try to have Faeril killed.

This was most likely some political nonsense. She knew the others were having mental conversations about the situation, ones that she was not privy too. Totally understandable. Dareen was, after all, some kind of weirdo. She felt like she should take a backseat to the discussion at hand. However, as Jandar brought up the mention of a spy, Dareen hesitated. Now she stood, rising from her stool and walking over to a far wall, isolated from the discussion. Out of habit she leaned up against it and watched the discussion unfold. There was more likely more going on here than beach talks. Obviously, the Black Widow upstairs was an unknown factor of the Queen Alice and her minion here. If he was here to report them or attack them or spy on them, than Dareen's services may be needed.

Dareen crossed her arms and leaned back, rolling her shoulders and neck. Absently she traced her right arm with her left index finger, following the lines on her skin that she instinctually knew were there. This...was a familiar feeling. Often times she would wait on the sidelines while her commander spoke fervently with contractors and representatives of Queens. Only afterward would he feel fit to divulge some of the crucial details, and only then would she be able to offer her consul. The only issue was that once someone has made a first impression, it is often hard to change it. She just hoped Fatima wasn't making a mistake by playing it like this. They needed to get to Kaeleer to build a power base...and right now this Sybl goober was in the way.

The ex-mercenary stood idly by, her back to the wall, watching everything unfold and trying to piece together as much as she could. A nonoffensive, aloof presence that could be easily ignored-- by design.

---

---

Fatima let out of cry of delight at Sybl's agreement. She then pouted and stuck her tongue out at Gen when he said a most reasonable thing. She, of course, agreed with him whole heartedly. Realistically she did not want to spend what money she had on a stupid dress to go see a stupid Queen. Stupid.

"I hope it is not too far a walk," she said in a coy sort of voice. "I have done some wandering around town and my feet ache." There was a note of complaint in her tone though any who might know something of her would know that she was lying. Look weak. Act weak. And when you enemy goes for the blow, you can surprise them. One of the many useful things her mother had taught her about the politics of being a Queen. "Whoever would like to join us is most welcome. Though, Jandar has the better taste in clothes," she said teasingly.

---

---

Sybl wouldn't mind an escort. Of course that was what her Court should do, though he would have much preferred some alone time with this Queen. Talk to her. See what made her tick. What made her so very special. He clasped a hand over the young woman's dark fingers on her forearm. "Whatever the Lady desires," he said in his gruff voice. "The store is not too far. I would be glad to rub your Lady's feet upon our return." Perhaps he should not have said that. But he wanted any excuse to touch her. He was acting strangely and a hot blush came over his face. Could he be so dumb? He then turned his attention to Dareen.

She had very mannish mannerisms. Her arms crossed and her face set in fierce indifference. She took to the walls and shadows - his usual haunt in a room when his presence was not explicitly demanded. However, it would be a shame for him to ignore a female member of this Queen's Court simple because she did not act womanly. He offered the mercenary a charming smile and said, "Perhaps the Lady Warrior would care for a new dress as well?" Whatever her could do to impress Fatima. But also... it did no good to leave anyone feeling left out.

Or perhaps she preferred the solitude as he himself sometimes did. Perhaps his invitation had been unwanted. Or the subject of dresses in general. "There is a good blacksmith I could take you to as well," he said as after thought.

---

---

---

---

---

---

With the many conversations going on in the small room, Gen was slightly concerned that Sybl would pick up something to report. But the Warlord Prince seemed entirely enthralled by Fatima. Even offering to buy Dareen a dress, something the Eyrien suspected was most likely not appreciated by the warrior witch. Though this Sybl quickly backtracked in making the offer that of a smithy. Oh, that was grand. Put the idea of a sword or some knife in their little Queen's hands. As if she wasn't a handful as it was. Though to be fair, Fatima was an enjoyable handful of a headstrong Queen and she was playing this man like a fiddle.

Looking sideways at his brother, Denvar gave a slight shrug. He could fit in with the populace better while playing the hulking bodyguard. "I will come along, if the Lady doesn't mind the company. My brother ought to stay here and make sure everything remains to the Lady's taste." The Warlord Prince in Denvar snarled at Sybl's bold interest in the tiny Queen. "After all, her will is my life." Words of complete surrender to Fatima that caught the eavesdropping Faeril and Gennar by surprise. Denvar had certainly not felt the pull towards Fatima, but he would embrace her will anyways. But beneath those words was a private challenge and warning to the other Warlord Prince. Fatima's will was his life and if anything funny happen there would be one seriously angry Eyrien to contend with.

Gen shoved off the wall and leaned towards Dareen slightly. "Go with them. Another woman there of your caliber will throw off the town and right now we want that. Jandar hopefully will take the opportunity to join you." The man's tone was low and he shrugged slightly. "We are going to work on finding that devil of a Warlord Prince who we need." He noted absently, not really explaining who the 'we' was. But as he left Dareen in his wake, he nudged Mikhail slightly and gave a slight nod up the stairs. "We ought to get to work on the requirements."

Sybl himself would know of a lovely dress shop, it's owner had done very good business for the Aristocrats. Linda was nothing short of a miracle worker of a tailor with her dresses that echoed the latest fashions she could find, and her shop was filled with the bright light of the day. Excellent for showing off the fine wares. But there was grime in the corners of the windows, her dresses on the floor were just a little bit less exhaulted as they normally were, and Linda herself looked nervously about as she went from gown to gown. It was hardly busy, in fact no one was in the shop. Most of the Aristocrats of Winton had Linda come to them, and it was the good fortune that she was indemand that kept the woman safe. Standing at a respectable height, her curly blond hair was tamed, barely, in a thick plait at the back of her head. A bit of a rounder frame set in a well made and worn blue dress matched her cheerful face that held a bit of worry. If the group travelled there, the woman looked up sharply. Startled by the sudden appearance of actual customers in her shop. "Well, now. Prince Sybl... You've brought some guests. What can I help you with?" The woman's accent was thick as she dipped a slight curtsy. "I've just got some lovely new fabric in..." She offered.

Now Dareen narrowed her eyes at the Queen Fatima, being more and more unconvinced of her act. She'd never stuck her tongue out like that before. But her attention was taken from this thought when Sybl offered to rub Fatima's feet and then blushed. Dareen cringed alongside him, quietly sucking in some air through her gritted teeth. That was unfortunate gaming.

Speaking of bad luck, Dareen was the next subject of Sybl's attention despite her best efforts. He offered to buy her a dress and she wrinkled her nose. Mmm, no, definitely not a dress. She would be happy if she never wore a dress for the rest of her life. He seemingly got a good luck at her, though, and offered to take her to a blacksmith aswell. At this Dareen chuckled, standing back to her own two feet. She flattened her shirt and sleeves as she spoke. "Ah, yes, the two hobbies: high fashion and weaponry." She said with a sarcastic wisdom.

At that moment, Gen spoke. Dareen was on the fence as to whether or not she should go. However, someone else telling her what to do made it easier. She briefly wondered what that said about her before nodding at Gen. "A woman of my caliber, huh?" She said, acting flattered to herself. Dareen took a few steps forward and looked at the group gathering to leave.

"Yeah, I'll go with you guys. Probably not gonna buy anything, though. Except maybe an extra shirt or two. Do they come in shades of deserty brown, or maybe sandy tan? Sawdust beige? I'm very particular." Dareen said facetiously. She made fun of her own"taste in fashion." It was a rhetorical question, one that Dareen punctuated with a wink at Fatima, calling back to their time they spent creating a dress for Dareen. Even though it didn't work out, in retrospect, it was fun.

Following the others, Dareen trailed behind, occasionally kicking absent-mindedly at loose stones. As she did she kept an eye on the town around them. Given she was told specifically by Gen to throw people off, she was no longer worried about her unorthodox appearance. She had even summoned her saber and sheathed it into her scabbard, casually holding the handle with her left hand. Occasionally giving a small smile to those who made eye contact with her. Upon reaching the place she peaked inside, getting a good look around. It was a tired but cheerful place, an environment that reflected well on it's owner. She deduced that she probably liked the shopkeeper, whoever she was. Still Dareen would be of no use in here. Dareen ducked out of the dressing conversation and elected to stand outside by the door, keeping a watchful eye on the environment around her, loitering casually with her back against the wall. Once again she crossed her arms and traced the line-dot pattern that ran beneath her sleeves. A familiar pose that Dareen didn't realise she did very often.

With Fatima continuing her act and having decided that they would indeed attend to Queen Alice's invitation, it was but one more situation that they would need to face. Even though, according to Fatima herself, she felt that Sybl was one of her own, Mikhail didn't seem to be the only one who thought it was unwise to trust him just because of that fact. With Denvar and Jandar accompanying Fatima and Sybl, there were enough people to keep Fatima safe, just in case Sybl or someone else had any funny idea. That said, Mikhail couldn't help but agree with Gennar as he approached Dareen, telling her to go with Fatima. Not only her presence might confuse the town as well but it will be another layer of defense for Fatima. While Fatima and the others went to search for a dress, he and Gennar were to work in a much more problematic and dangerous assignment... The 'requirement' the old priestess talked about earlier.

Mikhail simply nodded to Gennar as he nudged him, following him upstairs soon after. Not only they needed to find SaDiablo but more importantly, they needed to find a way to keep him under control, which was going to be very hard...

"The... 'requirement'..." Mikhail said in a low tone, once they were already far enough so Sybl nor any unwanted guest might hear them.

"We need to find a way to keep it under control..." he said to Gennar as they got up the stairs.

Truth be told, Mikhail had no idea on how they could do such thing, but if they didn't, SaDiablo might become a huge threat to the group if he somehow changed his mind or betrayed them.

“I will, of course, join, My Lady,” Jandar affirmed with a polite nod. He grimaced behind Sybl’s back, horrified at the foolish love-sick act, frankly. Thankfully, Fatima was ignoring it for now. They’d deal with the youthful Warlord Prince eventually. Despite his reservations, he let the spy escort Fatima, while he himself walked to her other side and a couple of steps behind, ever watchful.

Well, the only silver lining so far was Dareen’s dryly humorous reply to Sybl’s offer, her brand of sarcasm enough to draw a slight chuckle out of him. “Perhaps you should spice up your wardrobe with shades of marigold yellow or a dusky orange,” he replied just as dryly, directing a ‘what can you do’ sort of expression her way.

Their journey through the town was smooth, but Jandar detected the wary and outright frightful glances directed Sybl’s way. The shopkeeper of the dress-shop seemed caught off-guard as well, and the establishment was rather desolate and not entirely well kept. The Warlord deduced that most of her orders were from nobles or those of high status who could afford to hire her or her workers and invite them to their homes. Fatima was an outlier in that way, which would mean immediate rumours. But that was a given; it would have happened sooner or later. The question was how to use it to their advantage.

Unlike Dareen, he entered the shop, mainly to keep an eye on Sybl. His infatuation was a boon in the sense that he was likelier to be less observant, but it could lead to inappropriate behavior on his part. Besides, when he was able to, Jandar would approach the tailor or perhaps one of her other employees – if there were any present – and engage them in pleasantries.

---

---

Fatima felt a flush come to her cheeks at his comment about rubbing her feet and she stared at him wide-eyed. What on earth could have possessed the man? But he seemed to be just as embarrassed and so Fatima chose to ignore the comment. Gen's statement though! It just about caused her to faint. What in the world had come over the man? Any of these men? However, she was delighted to have so many bodyguards friends coming along for the trip. And they would certainly be eye-catching, what with an Eyrien tagging along and all. She would make quite the spectacle it would seem.

She walked alongside Sybl, all demure patience. She asked polite questions about the town, nothing too probing nor specific in the fear he might think she was attempting some sort of take over. She did not at all want this shitty little town. She wanted her own shitty little town she had been born in and promised to rule since then. Her heart actually ached for it, how odd.

She easily brushed it aside upon entering the shop and got back into the groove of the foolish young Queen with a taste that far exceeded her annual income. "New?" she responded to the woman, a glint of curiosity in her eye.

---

---

His brow wrinkled at her response. High fashion and weaponry? Was she being serious? Was that a joke? He looked toward the others for some clue but nary found a one so he gave her a half-smile that did not quite hide his confusion. The last thing he wanted to do was to look foolish by giving the wrong sort of response. His confusion was furthered by her comments on different colors which all sounded quite plausible to his artist's ears. Jandar even joined in and Sybl found himself in a state of distress. Jokes or truth? He hated this game.

"I would assume that there may be something to be found to your liking," he inclined his head to both people, hoping against all hope that this was an appropriate response. He hadn't realized how much he had stiffened until Fatima looked up at him with those pale eyes. He worried he was hurting her but it seemed her concern was for him because she lightly patted his arm before leading them out. Since no one was laughing or hurting him he assumed he must have made the right call for the conversation and relaxed.

He found the walk pleasant with Fatima asking many delightful questions. He was proud to be able to answer them all to satisfaction though as they wore on his voice was becoming more and more hoarse. When the reached the store he attempted to slyly drink from a flask tucked in his overcoat. He was fairly adept at hiding this movement from his years in Court. To be caught had meant punishment and one had to learn some sublime sleight of hand in order to not be caught. As much as he was saddened to no longer have the comfort of her touch, he found himself quite enjoyably occupied watching her flounce about the shop and ask questions. Sybl found his way to a quiet patch of wall where one would not be in the way.