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The ride over to the art gallery was uneventful. If it wasn’t for what he was wearing Roman would have walked, yet he was a bit too flashy for even his liking. The decision was made, and he was outvoted to the type of attire he was to wear for this outing. He understood but he still didn’t like it.

What was decided was some of the more eccentric and complicated attire they had made. A pauldron wrapped itself around his left shoulder and covered the magic caused injuries on his left arm down to his fingers. It was a wearable puzzle, an intricate piece of several thousand cut out shapes of different kinds of metal each in a different unique shape and size. Polished to a near mirror shine, the unique material could move like normal fabric but could also be just as sturdy as real armor if twisted the right way.

The next part of his walking art piece that he wore was a bronze-colored jacket with hundreds of carved and shaped scales layered over one another. Each scale was etched with designs, some random designs and shapes others depicting ancient sea monsters or legends. A scaled wire coiled around his torso and right arm ending in the head of a snake at his wrist, it looked like it was intertwined and made into the suit. Yet, it moved like it wasn’t attached to him at all.

The last part of his ensemble was the cascading scales from his jacket past his knees. The colors of his house checkered dark blue and black poking out from under the long jacket. For him it was a fancy rendition of their culture. The kilt being part of it, as part of their artistic style metal and armor was typically worn as ceremonial wear of some kind.

These were the kind of things roman didn’t enjoy, being a walking advertisement was one thing but now he had to put on a fake smile on top of it. He should have gone to that theater at least there he wouldn’t have to wear this, this uncomfortable garment that pinched and pulled hair. At least it was protective and not meant just for looks.

There were two others in the carriage with him, two of the guards Sven and Erik assigned to him. They were wearing matching outfits, loose formal clothing that professionally hid the body armor underneath. One noticed his lord’s uncomfortable movements, “at least you look nice my lord.” A snicker escaped the other guard. Roman replied with a sneer, “next time you two can wear this.” They all smiled the other guard spoke up just as they were arriving, “Id rather eat a bowl of Astri’s mystery meat stew.” Silence for just a moment then All of them laughed together.

The Carriage rolled to a stop in front of the gallery, the door opened and Roman stepped out his guards following close behind. He took it in for a moment before entering, the sights, sounds, smells, mostly the building. The architecture of this place was a little much, but it was to be expected given the current ruler. The trio stepped up and through the main entrance and met with a kind receptionist that quickly made name tags for each of them. It was nice but roman was here to meet someone and ultimately decided to stand to the side so that both him and his date could explore the art works.

Date: Sola 26th
Time: Evening
Location: Estate of lesser nobles merchant Lord Edric

---

She didn’t stop until they were safely out of sight, tucked away in a quiet hallway up past the stairs. Once she was sure they were alone, she released his hand and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though her emerald eyes still carried a flicker of excitement.

“Well,” she said, glancing up at him with a sly smile, “we can breathe for a moment, though I imagine this is only the beginning of the fun.” She stepped closer, her voice softening, this time devoid of her flirtatious persona. “You know, you’re quite good at this. I know this is kind of out of your comfort zone and for that, I truly am grateful to you.” Kalliope’s smile softened as she looked up at Sjan-dehk, her usual playful edge dimming to something more genuine. For a moment, she let herself linger in the quiet between them, her eyes tracing the lines of his face and her thoughts slipping past her carefully crafted walls.

Sjan-dehk flashed her grin. “Glad that you are, though I think you’re doing most of the work here. I’m just following along.” They weren’t idle words; he was quite impressed by how quickly Kalliope could think on her feet, and how expertly she went about her business.

It was unspoken, the way her heart beat faster when he was near, the way his steadiness anchored her chaos. She knew shouldn’t be thinking about the warmth of his hand in hers or the way his voice, even awkward, stirred something deeper within her. And yet, she found herself speaking before she could stop the words. “You make it far too easy to forget this is all an act,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper as her gaze dropped to his lips for the briefest of moments before snapping back to his eyes.

Kalliope’s words didn’t go unnoticed by Sjan-dehk. He intended to pretend as if he had missed them, but then as luck would have it, he caught her gaze just as she looked at him. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of the blood still rushing in his head, or his still-drumming heart, but something about her captivated him, and for a moment stole all the words he had in his mind. Were it her eyes, bright as they were in the low light of the hallway? Or perhaps her face, pretty and alluring as it was?

Or maybe it was because of memories of her hand in his, and the way her lips parted–

Sjan-dehk put a quick stop to those thoughts. Enough. This wasn’t the time for any of that. In fact, he was quite certain that there wasn’t any time for such thoughts. Kalliope was a friend, and a good one at that. He couldn’t, he shouldn’t start thinking of her in such a manner just because excitement got his blood pumping and his heart racing.

“Oh, well,” he said at last, bashfulness laden in his voice. “Glad…Glad to be of service. And you, ah, you are very convincing as well. But I suppose if even I can forget it’s an act knowing it’s one, it just shows how good you are.”

Realizing what she’d said, her breath caught, and she quickly added, “You know, for the crowd’s benefit, of course.” But the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her, and she found herself wishing she could take a step back from the strange, unfamiliar vulnerability that had slipped through.

“Yes, for the crowd,” Sjan-dehk replied quickly. Almost too quickly. “But it was…It was fun,” he added without even thinking. “And ah, for what it’s worth, I…Uh, I don’t think I could’ve done it with anyone else.” Then, realising what he had just said, he hastily added again, “I mean, you acted and reacted really fast to everything, you know? I, ah, I just that you…You offset my uh…”

Mentally, he cursed himself for stammering and tripping over his words like a fool. He stopped, drew in a deep breath, and tried again. “What I’m trying to say is, you’re good at this. That…That probably made things a lot easier for the both of us.” His words came out sounding far more awkward than he would have liked, and probably didn’t even sound convincing, but they would have to do. Any more, and he would simply be digging himself a deeper pit.

He looked back the way they had come, partially to avert his gaze out of embarrassment, but also to make sure that they hadn’t been followed. “Looks like we slipped away,” he said, turning back to face Kalliope. His eyes fell upon her face, and those unwanted thoughts from earlier drifted into his mind once more, teasing him. Redness tinged his cheeks, and he swiftly looked away. “So, ah, where are we going? There’s a lot of rooms here, by the looks of things.”

Kalliope’s breath caught again as she watched Sjan-dehk stumble through his words. His awkwardness, his earnestness, it was all so disarming in a way she hadn't quite anticipated. For a moment, she simply stood there, her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. His gaze, his voice, the way he made her feel like the world outside of them didn’t matter—it all pulled her in deeper. She was acutely aware of the fluttering in her chest, and for the briefest second, she thought she might not be able to keep her mask in place much longer.

But then, like a wave crashing against the shore, reality pulled her back. She shook her head slightly, focusing once more on the task at hand. She couldn’t afford to lose herself in her feelings, not now. Not yet.

“Ah, well,” she began, her voice steadier now as she found her footing again, “Thank you, years of practice I suppose. However, I’m afraid we don’t have time for any more distractions.” She straightened slightly, her usual confidence returning with a practiced ease. “Earlier today, I managed to steal the blueprints for this house. After reviewing them, I’ve narrowed down the two most likely rooms for study. Though, there's one I'd put my money on being the right choice as it's a bit more secluded.”

Kalliope’s eyes gleamed with a mix of determination and intrigue as she began to move toward the corridor beyond them, the air between them now thick with purpose. “I’ll lead the way. Just stick close, and we’ll be in and out before anyone notices.”

Her footsteps were silent as she made her way down the corridor and she blended in with the shadows incredibly well. A few turns later and they were in front of a door. She listened for a moment just to make sure there was no one inside before attempting the door. “Damn.” She said as it didn't budge. “Good thing I brought these with me.” She said with a grin as she looked at Sjan-dehk and pulled out a small set of lockpicks hidden within her hair.

“Convenient,” Sjan-dehk quipped before standing back, using his body to cover as much of Kalliope as he could while she worked. He threw glances up and down the hallway, keeping a vigilant eye out for anyone that might stumble across them.

She dropped to her knees and started working at the door. Kalliope’s heart beat just a little faster as she watched the door swing open, her grin widening when the lock gave way with ease. She’d always had a talent for getting past locked doors, and tonight was no different. “Bingo,” she murmured, pushing the door open with a flourish as she stepped into the room. It was dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners, but it was exactly what she’d hoped for—quiet, secluded, and well off the beaten path. Perfect for what they needed.

She looked over her shoulder at Sjan-dehk, her emerald eyes gleaming with determination once more. “Alright, let's start looking for anything unusual. Letters, notes, anything that might give us a clue as to what’s really going on here.” She gestured vaguely around the room, her voice steady, though her mind was still buzzing with the rush of the break-in. “Be thorough, but quick. We don’t have much time before someone comes this way according to that group.”

Turning her attention to the desk at the far end of the room, Kalliope’s gaze sharpened as she approached it. The desk was large and ornate, but to her trained eye, it was simply another place where secrets might be hidden. She ran her fingers over the surface, examining the drawers first, but there was nothing unusual. They were locked, of course, but she had anticipated that. The thief in her smirked as she went about unlocking them as well.

Her thoughts wandered for a moment, but she pushed them aside. There was no room for distractions now, not when she could feel the weight of their mission pressing down on her. She flicked open the first drawer, her eyes scanning the contents—a few papers, a sealed envelope, a delicate silver letter opener. She ignored the letter opener for now and pulled out the papers, rifling through them quickly. A brief glance at the writing revealed nothing of interest, just mundane correspondence.

With Kalliope picking through the back of the room, Sjan-dehk decided to focus his attention towards the area around the door. That suited him perfectly – it allowed him to keep a close eye on the door, as well as a close ear on the hallway outside, while they worked.

There wasn’t much for him to investigate, however. A few shallow stacks of papers sat near the foot of a cabinet, but they turned out to be nothing more than either blank, unused sheets, or scraps with only a handful of jagged lines scratched across them. He stood up from them, his lips pressed into a thin line cutting between his jowls, and went on to examine the cabinet. A few tugs on the beautifully carved wooden handles told him that its doors were locked. He let out a low grumble, and was about to call for Kalliope’s help when he pulled a little harder.

As it turned out, they hadn’t been locked, but had simply been jammed. For a brief moment, he felt a little pleased with himself, but that feeling quickly disappeared when he realised that if the closer had been left unlocked, then it was unlikely that he would find anything useful in it.

A rack of clothes greeted his eyes. Coats, jackets, shirts, all of them seemed to have been left where they were for a long time, but none of them seemed out-of-the-ordinary. And as Sjan-dehk cautiously pushed them aside, he found only more ordinary things. Folded trousers on a shelf above, mothballs collecting in the corners, and a pair of shoes left messily on the closet’s floor. Nothing that shouldn’t belong in such a piece of furniture.

He frowned and knelt to pull out the drawers at the bottom of the closet. They slid out easily enough, and were mostly empty. One contained a few pairs of socks and nothing else, whilst the other didn’t have anything at all. A frustrated huff left his nose, but just as he was about to shut them, something about the empty drawer stopped him. It didn’t look right, and when he reached in to give the drawer’s bottom a few raps of his knuckles, he realised why.

The thing had a false bottom.

She moved on to the next drawer, and again, the contents seemed harmless. More papers. Nothing that screamed “secret plans” or “hidden agenda.” She opened each drawer methodically, checking behind objects, flipping through documents, but there was nothing here.

“Damn it.” She grumbled as frustration bubbled up in her chest, but she fought it down. This wasn’t over yet. There had to be something. She glanced up to where Sjan-dehk was, hoping he was doing better than she was. “Any luck on your end?”

“Aye, I found–” Sjan-dehk started, but then cut himself off abruptly when he heard the low thumps of approaching footsteps outside. “Fuck,” he swore, his voice suddenly dopping to a hushed, but clearly urgent whisper. He swiftly slid the drawers back into place and shut the closet. “Someone’s coming, and they’re coming fast,” he said in a voice just loud enough to be heard by Kalliope.

Kalliope froze for half a second at Sjan-dehk’s warning, her mind racing. The sound of footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway, growing louder, closer. “Shit.” She cursed under her breath, her hands already moving to straighten the desk. Each item was carefully placed back exactly as she’d found it, her movements quick but precise.

As she picked up the last opened letter she’d discarded as mundane earlier, something caught her eye—something she hadn’t noticed before. The handwriting, though tidy, had subtle irregularities. Certain letters were slightly slanted, others unusually bold. Patterns. It struck her like a bolt of lightning. This wasn’t just a letter. It was a code.

Her breath hitched, her mind screaming at her to hurry, but she couldn’t just leave it. Without another thought, she snatched it up, folded it swiftly, and slipped it down the front of her bodice, tucking it securely between her skin and her corset. Whatever it was, it was coming with her.

“Alright,” she breathed, her voice low and urgent as she moved towards the door. The footsteps outside were growing louder, closer. They had three options, go out the front and talk their way out, hide in the small closet and risk being stuck there for who knows how long, or go out the window and risk not being able to get back in and getting caught. She didn’t have time to think it through, only to act. Turning back to Sjan-dehk, she made a split-second decision. “We’re going out the front.”

She grabbed his arm, and tugged him toward the door. Gently, she eased it open just a crack, peering out into the hallway. The footsteps were nearly upon them, but she judged they had mere seconds before whoever it was rounded the corner. It was a risk, but it was the only chance they had now.

“Come on,” she whispered sharply, and without waiting for him to reply, she slipped out into the corridor, pulling him along behind her. The door clicked shut softly behind them, and she pressed herself against the wall just to the side of the door. Kalliope’s pulse thundered in her ears as she listened to the approaching footsteps. She knew they were going to be caught, there was no getting around it, she was just trying to formulate a plan to talk their way out. Her mind raced for a way out, a way to salvage the situation.

And then it hit her.

She turned to Sjan-dehk, her expression suddenly filled with a mix of determination and regret. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, so softly it was almost drowned out by the sound of boots hitting the floor just around the corner.

Before he could respond, she grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him toward her. Her back pressed firmly against the wall as she tilted her head up, and in one fluid motion, her lips found his. The kiss was bold, urgent, and entirely unhesitating. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his coat as she held him close, her body flush against his. Every muscle in her tensed, bracing for the inevitable.

Sjan-dehk’s eyes went wide. He barely had time to voice his surprise. One moment he was following closely behind Kalliope, and the next, she had him pinning her to the wall, with her lips pressed upon his, and their bodies tight against each other. His first instinct yelled at him to pull away, but he could catch a glimpse of an approaching figure from the corner of his eye. There wasn’t time to think.

And so, he leaned into the kiss, bracing himself against the wall with an arm just above her head. He had his eyes closed, but still the fingers of his other hand managed to find their way to brush against her chin. For what reason, however, he didn’t know. It was just something he thought lovers did with one another, and really, he was hardly thinking by this point. All he could feel were the frenetic beats of his heart, pounding so hard in his chest that it felt as if it would shatter a few ribs.

The footsteps slowed, then stopped, just a few feet away. Kalliope’s heart pounded in her chest as she leaned into the kiss, pouring every ounce of her performance into the moment. Her mind screamed at her to stay calm, to sell the act, not like it was hard as a small part of her mind betrayed her and threatened to lose herself in the kiss, Her lips moved softly against his, coaxing a response, her fingers loosening just slightly as if they had forgotten their earlier urgency. She prayed to every god she didn’t believe in that this gamble would work.

Just an act. All just an act. Sjan-dehk repeated those words in his head like a meditative mantas. But he still found them difficult to believe. Not with the way her lips shifted ever-so-slightly against his, or with the way her hand only just gently rested upon his chest. He tried to tell himself that it was all just to make their performance really, really convincing, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder just how much of it was an act. Another part of him wondered why he would even wonder about that.

Without thinking, he slowly slid his hand on her chin up to her cheek, caressing it in a way that could only be described as lovingly. His thumb circled slowly and gently over her skin, and he felt his body relax, as if they weren’t in the midst of infiltrating an estate. It just felt so easy, so desirable, even, to just lose himself to the kiss.

A low cough broke the tension, and Kalliope’s eyes fluttered open just enough to catch a glimpse of a figure standing at the edge of her peripheral vision. She broke the kiss with a soft gasp, her cheeks flushing a believable shade of pink as she turned her head to look at the intruder.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her voice breathless and feigning embarrassment. “I-I didn’t realize anyone was—” She cut herself off, biting her lip and lowering her gaze, her hands still resting lightly against Sjan-dehk’s chest. Her performance was flawless, but inside, her stomach churned with nerves. This had better work.

Her heart raced as she realized it was the man who had shushed the group in the ballroom. His sharp, calculating eyes flicked between her and Sjan-dehk, narrowing slightly. He didn’t look amused and there was certainly suspicion in his eyes. She had one shot to sell this. For his part, Sjan-dehk did his best to appear like an embarrassed guard caught in the act. He averted his gaze – something easily-done with the help of his hat – and pretended to look busy straightening his clothes. The flush colouring his cheeks, however, was very much real.

“Oh dear,” she giggled lightly, staggering slightly to emphasize the bold, tipsy persona she had adopted earlier. Her hand slid from Sjan-dehk’s chest to her lips, as if trying to hide her faux embarrassment. “I must apologize,” she said, her words slightly slurred but still carrying a playful edge. “I didn’t think anyone would come wandering down here at this hour. My escort and I, well…” She trailed off, glancing up at Sjan-dehk with a sultry smile before looking back at the man, her cheeks flushing in what she hoped looked like tipsy, flirtatious guilt.

The man’s expression remained unreadable as he crossed his arms. “This is a private wing,” he said, his tone clipped and even. His gaze lingered on her a little too long for comfort before flicking over to Sjan-dehk. “Guests aren’t supposed to be here. Surely you were informed of that.”

“Oh, you’re absolutely right!” Kalliope chirped, waving her hand dismissively. “But you see, I simply couldn’t resist. These grand estates are so boring sometimes, don’t you think? All stuffy ballrooms and pretentious conversation. I needed some air, some adventure!” She giggled again, swaying just slightly as she took a small step forward, drawing his attention back to her. “And my dear escort here,” she gestured toward Sjan-dehk with a dramatic flourish, “was just helping me find a quiet spot. You know, to…escape the noise.”

Her emerald eyes met the man’s again, sparkling with feigned innocence and mischief. “But don’t worry, darling, we weren’t doing anything too scandalous. Just a little harmless fun.” She placed a hand on her chest, feigning mock sincerity. “I do hope you’ll forgive me. Surely you understand how dreadfully dull these parties can be and I simply couldn't resist getting my hands on my handsome escort.”

The man didn’t look convinced, but neither did he seem overly concerned. His eyes darted back to Sjan-dehk, lingering for a moment. “Is that so?” he asked, his tone sharp and probing. “And you, sir, what exactly were you doing wandering these halls with her?”

Her eyes flicked to Sjan-dehk, and for a brief moment, she silently willed him to follow her lead. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to intervene, to keep talking, but she knew it would only make things worse. That definitely would be viewed as suspicious. Sometimes speaking less was more. So instead, she settled for leaning lightly against him, her hand brushing his arm in what might appear as a tipsy, affectionate gesture. Inside, however, she was ready to spring into action if things went sideways.

There wasn’t much Sjan-dehk could think of to say. Nothing that wouldn’t make it sound too obvious that he was reaching for an excuse, at least. Experience told him to choose the easiest, most direct option, which was to simply incapacitate the man and make a rapid escape. But sense told him that he had to use finesse this time. There was still more in that room – and likely more in this estate as a whole – to investigate. A fight now would mean that they would have to leave all of that behind, and who knew when they would get a chance to return, if ever they could?

No, Sjan-dehk wasn’t about to let Kalliope’s efforts thus far go to waste.

“I apologise,” he said with a bow of his head. For the moment, he let go of the fact that he was Sada Kurau’s Captain, and instead imagined himself as a young midshipman. One that had only just been caught doing something very, very wrong, and now needed to think of a way to get his Commanding Officer’s attention off his back. “This, it is all my fault. It shames me to admit, but as my lady says, we were looking for a place for privacy. You see, the two of us, we…” He trailed off and looked away as if he were embarrassed by what he was about to say.

He made a show of drawing in a deep breath. “We are…Lovers, that is how you say it, yes? But it is not…It is not proper,” he continued, making sure to look at the man’s face every now and then. What Sjan-dehk was doing wasn’t something he had done often, but it was something that he knew could convince even the nosiest senior officer to stop prying any further if done correctly. The process was simple, really. All he had to do was just share so much information – the more useless, and the more unpleasant or impolite, the better – until the man decided he didn’t want to listen anymore.

Kalliope’s chest tightened, her heart thundering as Sjan-dehk’s words sank in. Lovers. The word sent a thrill down her spine, even though she knew it was just part of the ruse. Still, hearing it from his lips, watching his awkward earnestness as he sold the lie with such determination, made her stomach flutter in a way she couldn’t suppress. He didn’t even realize it, but the way he’d defended her—and the slight flush that crept across his cheeks—only made her feelings for him crash against her like waves against the shore, impossible to ignore and leaving her more disarmed than ever.

“And earlier, in the ballroom, we were quite…Improper,” Sjan-dehk went on, putting on a look of both innocence – as if what he was saying was simply a statement of fact – and embarrassment – as if he had committed a grave social error. “She had her hands on me, you see, and I…Well, I knew I had to take her away to…You know, take care of things. And then she said to find somewhere private, and I knew this part of the estate for today is…Is quiet and has nobody. I thought that this would be a good place for us to do what we want, so we came here.”

Sjan-dehk bowed his head again. “I apologise, really. We should have been more careful.”

The man’s sharp gaze lingered on Sjan-dehk for an uncomfortably long moment, his lips pressed into a thin line as if deliberating on whether or not to press further. His eyes shifted back to Kalliope, scrutinizing her with the kind of disdain reserved for someone who had clearly overstepped their station…or at least his perception of it.

“And your name, my lady?” he asked, his tone teetering on the edge of politeness, though it carried a distinct edge of condescension.

Kalliope straightened slightly, tilting her chin up just enough to feign an air of imperious grace. “Lady Alara Vayne,” she said, her voice dripping with aristocratic authority. “Of the House Vayne of Mariscia and Vayne Trading Company, if that wasn’t already clear.” If he dared to look into her, he would find there was a House Vayne on the continent of Mariscia and they were associated with a Vayne Trading Company. This persona worked so well for her because she had taken care to build it during several trips to the coastal country. She liked to have a solid disguise and Lady Vayne certainly fit the bill.

The man’s brows furrowed briefly as he turned the name over in his mind, but Kalliope’s delivery was flawless. He had no reason to doubt her, and after a tense pause, he gave a curt nod. “Well, Lady Vayne, I suggest you and your… escort find your way back to the ballroom before someone else stumbles upon you. Next time, try to keep your indiscretions to more appropriate venues.”

He stepped to the side, his dismissal clear, but then hesitated, glancing at Sjan-dehk again with a sneer that made Kalliope’s stomach churn. “Though, I must say, I’d have expected better taste from a lady of your standing. Perhaps next time, choose a companion who doesn’t look like he just stepped off the deck of some filthy barbaric merchant ship.”

Sjan-dehk bristled at that remark. It took every last scrap of his restraint to hold him back from telling the man that it was his ‘filthy barbaric merchant ship’ that was the cause of all his woes. The pointed words had even formed on Sjan-dehk’s tongue, but he forced them back down. There wasn’t a need for him to say anything, anyway. Sada Kurau would certainly pay the man’s remark back in full, in the form of ships and his fellows sent to the abyss.

Kalliope’s blood boiled, her hands twitching as she fought the urge to reach for her concealed dagger. But instead, she smiled, a tight, saccharine expression that was somehow more cutting than any blade. “Oh, I assure you, good sir,” she said, her voice as sweet as poisoned honey, “the only thing filthy about my escort is how thoroughly he’s made me forget all those dreary, stuffy nobles. If only they had half his charm.” Her gaze locked with his, a silent challenge in her emerald eyes. “But I’ll take your suggestion under advisement. Thank you ever so much for your concern.”

Without waiting for his reaction, she grabbed Sjan-dehk’s arm and began walking, her steps light but purposeful, though her nails dug into his sleeve just enough to betray her lingering irritation. As soon as they turned the corner and were out of earshot, she let out a sharp breath. “That pompous little—” She bit the rest of the sentence off, shaking her head as if to compose herself. “Let’s just get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. Care to spend some time somewhere away from insufferable nobles that's a bit more quiet and we could maybe read a certain letter?” She asked him as she patted the spot she'd hidden the coded letter she found.

To say that Sjan-dehk was caught off guard by Kalliope’s reaction to the man’s words would be quite the understatement. Although it was true that the man had been incredibly rude, the bulk of his vitriol had been aimed towards Sjan-dehk. And while Sjan-dehk would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel vexed by the treatment, he knew that it was all just part-and-parcel of putting on an act. Besides, he had responded in the way he had with the intention of aggravating the man, and surely Kalliope had to have caught onto that.

So why had she gotten so upset?

Sjan-dehk found no answer to that question, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to. Or if there was even a need to. It felt nice – heartening, even – to have her speak up for him, and after spending so many years and so much effort defending others, it was strangely comforting to be himself defended by someone else. That alone was more than enough for him.

And so, he simply followed behind Kalliope in silence as she practically dragged him away. Her nails, sharp and neatly filed, felt as if they were just moments away from cutting through his sleeve when they rounded a corner. “Of course,” Sjan-dehk replied to her question. The charms and quirks of high society had turned stale, and there weren’t many of those to begin with, in any case. “I found a false bottom in one of the closets. Shame we couldn’t have a look inside, but I guess that’s just for another adventure in future, eh?”

Kalliope slowed her pace slightly, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she glanced at Sjan-dehk. “Another adventure in the future, huh? Is that your way of saying you plan on sticking around and indulging in more of my harebrained schemes? Because I’ll admit,” she leaned in just slightly, her voice dipping lower with a wickedly teasing lilt, “That’s just my type of foreplay. I’ve always found a man who’s ready for danger and mischief…quite irresistible.”

She let her words hang in the air, her smirk growing as she began to descend the steps with deliberate, unhurried grace. Her fingers brushed the banister, her pace measured as if savoring the moment. She cast a sidelong glance at Sjan-dehk, her eyes glinting with mischief. So surprised was Sjan-dehk by her choice of words that he choked on air. Clearing his throat, he slowly met her gaze, his cheeks tinted by a flush, and looking as if he couldn’t quite believe his ears.

“So,” she began, her tone deceptively innocent, “shall we go somewhere that’s quiet and private?” She paused mid-step, turning slightly to look at him, the question lingering in the air as her gaze held his. Her lips parted ever so slightly, as if to say something more, but she let the silence stretch, teasing him with the unspoken.

Sjan-dehk’s eyes widened, and his mouth hung agape. Every thought in his mind came to an abrupt, sudden halt. Was she really suggesting what he thought she was? Surely not – they had only known each other for roughly a week. It was too soon. But perhaps such affairs worked differently here, and she was indeed asking him for a dalliance? How should he respond? And why did a part of him – as small as it was – hope that she was indeed propositioning him?

He swallowed and tried to look over her shoulder; at the bannisters; at the ceiling, and even at all the fixtures lining the walls. Anywhere but her mischievous face and her lips.

Then, with a wicked little smile, she added, “To look at this letter, of course.” Her voice was sweet, but her grin made it abundantly clear that she was thoroughly enjoying herself. She continued her descent, her footsteps soft but purposeful, tossing him a playful look over her shoulder. “Unless you have…other suggestions?”

At that, Sjan-dehk released a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. “You really are a tease, you know that?” He said with a chuckle. Some of it was out of amusement, but part of it was targeted at himself. What a fool he had been acting. The rush of excitement must have addled his senses, for him to have jumped to such a conclusion. “Can’t say I’ve any suggestions. I’d suggest going back to Sada Kurau, but…”

He swept a hand over himself. “I didn’t exactly make it difficult for anyone to guess that she’s where I came from,” he concluded. And also, his crew had worked terribly hard over the past couple of days and nights. The last thing Sjan-dehk wanted was to tire them out even more by leading unnecessary trouble to the ship. Sada Kurau deserved the rest, too. For tonight, he would be on his own. “But I’m sure you know one or two hiding spots where we can look over a letter, right?”

Kalliope’s laughter bubbled up, light and genuine, as she caught the playful edge in his voice. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she shot him a teasing grin as she continued down the stairs with a languid, almost cat-like grace.

“I can't help but enjoy making you squirm a little.” She mused, her voice tinged with wicked delight as she turned the corner. Her smile lingered for a moment before she began to ponder, her eyes scanning the surroundings briefly as she considered her options. Her mind wandered for a moment, sifting through various possibilities, before her eyes lit up with the perfect idea.

“Well,” she began, drawing out the word as she looked back at him, “I have just the place. An inn, not too far from here. I've built quite the relationship with them over the years, and they have a little suite they keep just for me. Quiet. Private. Perfect for... confidential matters.”

She gave him another sly, yet playful look. “No prying eyes, no interruptions,” she added, her voice lowering just slightly with a hint of something more dangerous beneath the flirtation. "You might just like it there."

Without waiting for a response, she started heading towards the exit of the estate, more determined now. “Come along, then,” she called back, her smile mischievous. “Let’s take a look at this letter in the comfort of my little hideaway. No distractions, I promise…unless, of course, you’d like a distraction.”

Sjan-dehk chuckled with a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t want either of us to be distracted when we’re going through something so…Well, something that might be important,” he replied with a small grin. Then, with a glance at her dress and a glint in his eyes, he added in a playful tone, “Besides, I’d think that you’re plenty enough of a distraction, Kali. I’m afraid you might’ve to do all the reading.”

For him, and by his standards, those words were daring. Overly-so, even. But surely, if she was – as she put it – going to be a tease and make him squirm, then it was only fair for him to give her a touch of that as well, in return. It wasn’t as if it was that hard for him to say such words. With Kalliope, they flowed from his lips as naturally as a river meandering through a floodplain. It was strange, he had to admit, but it also felt strangely good. As if this was a fun game between the two of them.

Kalliope stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes snapping to Sjan-dehk with an expression that could only be described as mock shock. For a moment, she simply stared at him, her lips parted in exaggerated disbelief, before a slow, mischievous grin spread across her face.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement, “Look who’s learning how to tease me back. I’m proud of you, Sjan-dehk. Might even make me swoon a little.”

She leaned closer, her emerald eyes glinting with wicked delight. “Though if it’s the dress that’s the distraction…” Her voice softened to a conspiratorial whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, “I could always take it off.”

Once again, Sjan-dehk was struck dumb by her words. His face flushed a deep scarlet, and it was all he could do to avert his gaze. The image left in his head by Kalliope’s suggestion made it difficult for him to look at her. “That–” he began, immediately interrupting himself by coughing into his fist. “That won’t…Well, I-I don’t think that would be necessary, but thank you for offering.”

She lingered for a heartbeat, just long enough for the suggestion to settle in the air between them, before pulling away with a laugh. Her steps picked up again as she linked her arm with his again and led the way to their destination.

Neither of them noticed the faint movement in the shadows, where a pair of cold, watchful eyes followed their every step. The figure lingered in the dark corner of the estate, obscured by the dim light of the hallway, before vanishing back into the depths of the mansion as quietly as a breath on the wind.

Date: Sola 26th
Time: Evening
Location: Small little inn

---

By the time they arrived at the inn, the city’s chaos had given way to the stillness of the night. The inn itself was tucked down a quiet side street, its warm, golden light spilling onto the cobblestone road like a beacon of comfort. The carved wooden sign above the door depicted a coiled dragon resting atop a hoard of coins, its craftsmanship a testament to the inn’s reputation for blending charm and luxury.

Sjan-dehk glanced at the sign, then at the building’s facade. He let out a low whistle. “Fancy look for a quiet place,” he remarked.

Kalliope pushed open the door with familiar ease, stepping into the cozy common area where the scent of wood smoke and spiced tea filled the air. A few patrons lingered at the tables, chatting quietly or nursing drinks, but the room was far from crowded. Behind the polished counter stood a plump, middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a sharp mind. She glanced up as Kalliope approached, her expression lighting up in recognition. Her gaze briefly flicked to the necklace Kalliope war, a silent indicator of who she was that night.

“Well, if it isn’t Lady Vayne,” the innkeeper said warmly, “Shall I prepare your usual suite, my lady?”

Kalliope’s lips curved into a gracious smile. “Yes, please, Elyna. And if it’s not too much trouble, could you have some tea and perhaps something light to eat brought up? My companion and I have had quite the evening.”

“Of course, my lady,” Elyna replied with a slight bow of her head. Her sharp gaze darted to Sjan-dehk, but she said nothing more. Instead, she turned and gestured to one of the serving staff, giving quiet instructions before returning to the counter. “It’ll be ready shortly.”

Kalliope thanked her with a small nod, then motioned for Sjan-dehk to follow as she led the way up the staircase to the second floor. The corridor was lined with ornately carved doors, each marked with intricate plaques indicating the suite numbers. Kalliope stopped at the third door on the left, producing a key from the folds of her gown and unlocking the door with a smooth motion.

The suite inside was the epitome of understated elegance. A plush rug in rich shades of crimson and gold stretched across the floor, its patterns intricate and mesmerizing. A fireplace crackled softly in the corner, the golden light casting a warm glow over the room. To the right, a small sitting area boasted a pair of high-backed chairs flanking a low table, perfect for quiet conversation or reviewing documents.

The bed dominated the far end of the room, its canopy draped in sheer, gauzy fabric that shimmered faintly in the firelight. A small sideboard held a collection of decanters and glasses, while a writing desk was tucked neatly into the corner, complete with an assortment of ink and quills.

Sjan-dehk looked at the room with impressed eyes as he carefully stepped inside, as if it wasn’t an inn’s room that he was stepping into, but the stately chamber of a mansion. But perhaps ‘stately’ was the wrong word to use – this room didn’t feel stuffy, or overly-elaborate for the sake of it. Everything seemed to have a reason for why they were the way they were. The decorations were certainly fine and intricate, but they accented the room nicely, rather than dominating it. He could feel a gentle air of cosiness from the furnishings, rather than a desire to impress.

Kalliope stepped inside before glancing over her shoulder at Sjan-dehk, her smirk returning. “Well? What do you think? Cozy enough for our letter-reading adventure?” Her tone carried just enough playful emphasis on the phrase to keep him guessing about whether or not she truly meant to behave as she pulled the letter out of her bodice and waved it before him. As they settled in, someone brought the tea she requested and an assortment of pastries before silently leaving.

Thank the Mother for the interruption, for Sjan-dehk’s mind had wandered to somewhere that wasn’t as savoury as he liked at Kalliope’s words – or her tone, to be accurate – and her actions. His eyes, which had been drawn to her bosom by her hand, quickly snapped away to instead look towards the person with their drinks and food. “Thank you,” he said with a nod, doing his utmost best to keep his voice and tone as calm, level, and devoid of his shame as possible.

That brief distraction returned his attention to the task at hand, but still Sjan-dehk was convinced that there was something dreadfully wrong with him today. He wasn’t usually like this, so easily distracted by the words and ways of a woman. Or just easily distracted in general.

He shook his head slightly, then looked at the tray. “Well, we’ve food and drinks. I think it’s as good a time as any for us to have a look at the letter.”

Kalliope laid the letter carefully on the table, smoothing out the edges with a practiced hand. She then walked over to the writing desk and grabbed a blank sheet of paper as well as a quill and ink, just in case she needed to write anything down to help decode this. She then grabbed a cup of tea and took a delicate sip, savoring the warmth and calming effects before she set it down. The tea seemed extra delightful tonight.

She sat down with a fluid motion, her gaze drifting back to the letter. After a long moment of quiet examination, she tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in subtle curiosity.

“So,” she said, her voice low and thoughtful as she looked at Sjan-dehk, “other than the random darker spots and slanted letters, does anything about this letter stand out to you?”

With furrowed brows, Sjan-dehk examined the letter. His command of Caesonian had improved over his stay thus far in Sorian, but reading was still something with which he found trouble. To be honest, had Kalliope not pointed out the slanted letters, he wouldn’t have thought them to be suspicious. And still, despite his best efforts to scrutinise them in every which way possible, he couldn’t figure out just why she had pointed them out. They just looked like someone was writing in a rush.

“Can’t say anything does,” Sjan-dehk admitted in a half-grumble. “Reading your language…Well, the characters, at least, isn’t something I’m too good at. It looks like a normal letter to me.” Then, his lips pulled into a grin and he looked at her. “But I’m guessing you caught something?”

She took another sip of tea before also grabbing a small pastry and nibbling on it. “Also, this tea seems to be exceptionally good tonight. I wonder what kind they used tonight because it feels special.”

“Is it?” Sjan-dehk gingerly picked up one of the cups and carefully sipped from it. He allowed the tea to linger on his tongue for a while before swallowing. Then, he sipped again. He emptied almost half of the cup before it occurred to him that, foreign as he was to local teas, he probably wouldn’t know if there was something about this particular tea’s taste. Embarrassed, he placed the cup back onto the tray and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“It’s…A strong tea,” he remarked, sounding more awkward than he would have hoped. “But it’s good, I think. Can’t say I can tell what it tastes of, though.” The fruity, earthy flavour lingered on his tongue, but as a welcome guest rather than one that had outstayed their welcome.

Kalliope took another sip of her tea, savoring the taste with a thoughtful expression. “It’s… fruity,” she mused, tilting her head slightly. “Maybe a little floral too? It’s different. Not something I recognize, though. A new blend, maybe? I'll have to ask Elyna later.” She glanced at the cup again, swirling the tea absently before chuckling softly. “Sorry, I’m getting sidetracked. Back to the matter at hand.”

She set the tea down and leaned over the table, her focus shifting back to the letter. With a steady hand, she began jotting down the darker and slanted letters onto the blank sheet of paper, speaking aloud as she worked. “Here’s an odd one… and another… and this one, too.” Her quill scratched against the page as she formed the collection of seemingly random letters.

When she was finished, she held up the paper, her brows furrowed in frustration. “It doesn’t make any sense. Just a jumble of letters. Whoever wrote this either didn’t want it deciphered or they’ve got a very strange way of hiding their message.” Letting out a soft sigh, Kalliope leaned back in her chair, resting her head against the backrest. “Or maybe I was wrong and it really isn't anything at all.”

As she sat there, the warmth of the room and the effects of the tea began to creep through her in ways she didn’t immediately notice. The edges of her usual sharp wit seemed to blur ever so slightly, and a strange sense of contentment washed over her, one that she rarely let herself indulge in. Her eyes wandered over to Sjan-dehk, and for a moment, a warm, lazy smile spread across her lips. “You know,” she began, her voice softer than before, “I was thinking about earlier. When I kissed you.” She tilted her head slightly, her emerald eyes glinting in the flickering firelight. “I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

Sjan-dehk met her gaze, and was once again struck dumb. He had hoped that, after a night of being teased by her in such a fashion, such words would slide off his mind as easily as water dripping off a sheet of sailcloth. That was evidently wishful thinking; Kalliope’s words, coupled with the relaxed look about her face, brought Sjan-dehk’s thoughts to a crashing halt, and made his heart skip a couple of beats. Once again, he could himself wondering whether she was serious. Once again, he wondered just why that mattered to him.

With nothing to say, and no words coming to his mind anytime soon, he decided to occupy his mouth with other things before he blurted out something thoughtless. He reached for his cup and emptied it in one long gulp.

The words hung in the air for a moment, her tone sincere and unguarded. Kalliope reached for her tea again, her fingers brushing over the cup as she realized what she had just said. Her eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush began to creep across her cheeks. Quickly, she cleared her throat and looked away, pretending to focus on the scattered papers in front of her.

“Ahem. I mean, uh… That was supposed to stay in my head,” she mumbled, her voice quick and flustered. She dipped her quill into the ink again, keeping her eyes firmly on the parchment as if willing it to distract her from her own words. “Let’s… just focus on the letter again, shall we?” The slight tremble in her hands betrayed her composure as she scribbled aimlessly, trying to hide the deep flush spreading across her face.

“Yes,” Sjan-dehk said quickly, the heat still in his cheeks. “Let’s focus.”

Focus, as it turned out, was the one thing that refused to come to him. He watched Kalliope scribble with great interest, following every stroke of her quill and taking in every letter. Even so, it took him a couple of minutes before he realised that she wasn’t writing anything at all, but simply scrawling with neither aim nor purpose. That was indeed a curious thing, he knew. And yet he didn’t feel any need to ask her anything. Not what she was doing, and not whether she was alright. All Sjan-dehk felt was a strange, but comforting sense of calm.

He turned his head. For what reason, he neither knew nor cared. All he knew was that now he could easily catch sight of Kalliope’s strikingly beautiful eyes, bright and glimmering as they were. Had she always looked this attractive? Had he simply never noticed? Or was this yet another consequence of their exciting little adventure in the estate earlier? He didn’t dwell on those questions. He didn’t care much for them, anyway. What importance could they have, when he was here, in this room, and right next to a lady so, very alluring?

“I…” He began. Whatever carelessness he felt wasn’t reflected in his voice, but still he pressed on, a slight waver in his words. Whether it was from embarrassment or something else, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. “I…I mean, it was nice. The kiss. I liked it as well and, well, I wouldn’t mind if you…If you did what you want.” His words died to a quiet and indistinct murmur towards the end, but amidst the peacefulness of the room, he may as well have shouted them.

Kalliope froze at Sjan-dehk's words, her quill stilling on the parchment mid-scribble. Her emerald eyes locked onto his, wide with surprise and disbelief. For a moment, it seemed as if the world had stilled, the only sound in the room being the faint crackle of the fire. Then, almost imperceptibly, her lips curved into a soft, slightly giddy smile.

A light giggle escaped her, uncharacteristic and far too carefree for her normal flirtations and teasing. She set the quill down, standing with an almost languid grace and crossing the short distance between them. The haze of something in the tea, the warmth now coursing through her veins, seemed to melt away her restraint, leaving her feeling bold, almost reckless.

Leaning down, she placed her hands on either side of Sjan-dehk’s chair, bringing her face mere inches from his. Her eyes, bright with something that bordered on mischief and raw honesty, searched his as her breath brushed lightly against his lips. “I dare you to kiss me,” she murmured, her voice low and filled with a teasing, honeyed edge. “But I’ll warn you…”

Sjan-dehk gulped, but it was more of a reflexive action than anything else. Contentment, calm, and a hint of anticipation were all that were on his face as he looked up at her, his lips pulled into a relaxed, lazy smile. What other reaction could there be, to words as daring and titillating as those?

Her gaze dropped to his lips, lingering there for a heartbeat before flicking back up to his eyes. “If you do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop there.” A quiet laugh tumbled out of her, soft and almost self-deprecating. “And that’s because… I think I’m falling for you, Sjan-dehk. Completely.”

She tilted her head slightly, her voice growing quieter but no less sincere as she let the confession tumble out of her. “I tried to tell myself I wasn’t allowed to. That it wasn’t smart, or right, or…” She trailed off, her smile fading just slightly as the weight of her admission settled over her. But then, the boldness surged again, her lips quirking into a faint smirk as she leaned even closer. “But here we are. Your move, Captain.”

“Falling?” Sjan-dehk echoed with a teasing grin. He tilted his head the other way and pushed himself upright. So close were their faces that he could almost count the strands of her lashes, that he could see the faint, warm shine highlighting her lips. For a brief moment, his senses seemed to return, and his smile faltered. His breath caught in his throat. Uncertainty crept into his dark irises. Every instinct told him to pull away while he still could.

But as quickly as it had come, that moment left. What had he even been worried about? Nothing that mattered all that much, he assumed. The grin returned to his face, and he raised his hand, bringing it to Kalliope’s face. His palm rested gently against her cheek, his thumb gliding along the ridges of her cheekbone. He had done the exact same thing earlier, in the estate, but back then it had been just a thoughtless reaction. An act, and nothing more. Now, however, it was more than that. He knew what he was doing. He wanted to touch her.

Her skin tingling beneath his touch and almost instinctively, she leaned into it, her eyes fluttering closed for a fleeting moment as she savored the gentle, deliberate motion of his thumb against her cheekbone. The gesture was so simple, yet it unraveled something deep within her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and impossibly safe all at once. When her gaze found his again, her expression softened, a quiet, unspoken yearning reflected in the depths of her emerald eyes.

“Falling?” He repeated, then nodded. Whatever he was going to do – whatever he was doing right at this very moment, in fact – wasn’t going to be the wise, or right, or even sensible thing to do. Deep in his heart, he knew that. And yet, he couldn’t say that he was bothered much by it. He knew what he wanted, and that was enough for him. “Then I suppose I’ve to catch you.”

His words came out in a soft murmur, each syllable bringing his face closer and closer to hers, until a hair’s breadth was all that separated them. He gazed into her eyes, his mischievous grin softened to a warm, gentle smile. “Here we are,” he whispered and winked.

He leaned in, and pressed his lips against hers.

The kiss stole Kalliope's breath before she even realized she had given it away. The warmth of his lips against hers sent a jolt down her spine, igniting a fire in her veins that burned through every last shred of caution she might have clung to. It wasn’t like the brief kiss they had shared earlier, the one she had claimed was a distraction. No, this was deliberate, purposeful, and brimming with the kind of emotion she had spent so long convincing herself she couldn’t afford to feel.

Her thoughts spun in dizzying circles, fragmented and incoherent. This is happening. This is real. She couldn’t deny the truth of it, the way his touch and closeness made her heart race and her knees feel as if they would give out at any moment. And then they did.

Her knees buckled beneath her, and before she could stop herself, she sank down, finding herself perched on Sjan-dehk’s lap. She let out a soft, almost breathless laugh against his lips, her cheeks flushed and her pulse racing. “Guess I really am falling,” she murmured without really breaking the kiss, though the words barely registered even to herself.

Sjan-dehk chuckled breathily, his eyes half-lidded and his lips pulled into a silly smile as he looked at her. At the same time, he slipped an arm around the small of her back to keep her in place. “You can fall as much as you want,” he said, the words coming out as hushed, heated breaths. With a tug that was equal parts gentle and firm, he pulled her snugly onto his lap. “You’ll be alright. I have you.”

Her hands, almost of their own accord, moved to his chest. They splayed out over the broad expanse of muscle, feeling the strength beneath his tunic as her fingers traced tentative, roaming paths. His heartbeat thudded beneath her palm, strong and steady, and something about that simple rhythm sent a warm ache of longing through her.

A soft, almost helpless sound escaped her throat—half sigh, half moan—as she pressed herself closer. One hand curled into the fabric of his tunic as if she were anchoring herself to him, while the other slid upward, brushing over his shoulder and coming to rest at the base of his neck. Sjan-dehk replied with a soft hum reverberating in his throat. The closer she pressed herself to him, the tighter he wrapped his arm around her, until their bodies were almost flush against one another.

His scent, sea salt and something earthy, unmistakably him, filled her senses, and it made her dizzy in the best way. Her lips moved against his, hesitant at first but quickly growing more confident, pouring into the kiss every ounce of unspoken feeling she’d kept bottled up for so long. She couldn’t hold back now, couldn’t stop the way her body gravitated toward his as if pulled by some magnetic force.

As her lips moved, so too did his. Wherever they went, his was sure to find them. He leaned his back off the chair, trying to press himself ever-so-closer against her, to feel more of her warmth, to fill his nose with more of her flowery scent, to simply know that this was real. His hand travelled across her back until its fingers could curl around her slender waist, and his arm could pin her to him. It was like his body didn’t want to let her go, now that he had her, even as his mind whispered that this wasn’t a smart thing to do.

The whispers kept swirling in his mind, but could never truly get him to listen. The raw desire burning within him drowned out their warnings. All he could think about, all he could care about, was Kalliope and how she – every part of her – felt against him.

Her fingers at his neck curled slightly, nails grazing his skin in a way that was both tender and daring. She broke the kiss for the briefest of moments, her forehead resting against his as she caught her breath. Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto his with a mix of wonder and disbelief. “Sjan-dehk…” she whispered, her voice breathy and unsteady. A giddy smile played at her lips as she leaned back in, unable to resist pressing another kiss to his mouth, softer this time but no less charged.

Something at the back of her mind screamed that she should stop, pull back, regain her composure. But the warmth of his body, the steadiness of his hands, the way his presence seemed to consume her…it was all too much, too intoxicating. For once, she didn’t care about what was right or wise. She didn’t care about the consequences. All that mattered in this moment was him.

When she did finally pull away, realizing she needed air, she didn’t move far, her forehead resting lightly against his as she struggled to catch her breath. Her emerald eyes fluttered open, locking onto his with a vulnerability that she couldn’t hide. “Sjan-dehk,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, the sound trembling with emotion. Her hand, still resting on his chest, tightened its hold slightly as if to anchor herself. “I think… I think you just made me fall all the way.”

The words spilled out before she could stop them, but for once, she didn’t care. There was no teasing now, no coy smiles or witty quips to hide behind. Just her, bare and open, her heart laid bare in a way that both thrilled and terrified her. “And I don’t know what to do with it,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing deeply as her gaze flickered to his lips again, already longing for the next kiss.

Sjan-dehk wasn’t quite sure what to do, either. He wasn’t a stranger to all they had done so far – the many post-battle victory celebrations he had been a part of made sure of that – but going any further than heated kisses and daring touches was wholly unknown to him. He may as well be asked to sail uncharted waters, towards uncharted waters.

And yet, as he gazed into Kalliope’s eyes, and saw the redness in her cheeks, the sincerity etched in her features, and that slight, but unmistakable, tinge of nervousness, that uncertainty didn’t matter all that much, anymore. What did it matter? Before each other, they had laid their needs and wants and desires bare. And it was clear that both of them craved the same thing. He brushed his hand against her cheek, fingers pushing aside the fiery tresses tickling her face. “I don’t know, either,” he said in a soft voice. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know if all this, all that I’m doing, is right. Or smart. Or if it even makes any sense.”

With one hand, he caressed his cheek. With the other, he held her by her waist. “But what I do know is that doing all this makes me feel…Content.” Slowly and gently, he guided her face closer, even as he leaned forward. “Mother help me, being with you like this makes me feel…Light. Lighter than I’ve felt in a damn long time.”

Their lips were now almost brushing against each other. He stopped, eyes half-lidded. “I don’t know a damn thing about what’s going on, Kali,” he admitted in a hushed voice. “But somehow, I can’t say that it bothers me at all, because right now I hear you calling to me just like the sea.” He grinned, but it wasn’t a mischievous one. It didn’t speak of playfulness, but of assurance. “And not even the damn Abyss can stop me from answering. So fall if you’re going to fall. I’ll be falling with you.”

He closed the scant distance between them, and captured her lips in another kiss. This time, he took the lead. With his uncertainties and hesitations discarded, he pulled her closer to him, sitting her fully on his lap. He placed both his hands on her waist, resting them just above her hips.

As his lips met hers, a wildfire seemed to ignite within her. It was all consuming. His hands on her waist steadied her, and yet, she still felt as though she was falling, her entire world narrowing to the feel of his lips and the strength of his touch. Her own hands found their way back to his chest, her fingers fanning out against the warm fabric of his tunic as if she were grounding herself to him.

But grounding herself wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Needed more. Her hands roamed upward, brushing over his broad shoulders before tangling in his hair. The soft strands were a contrast to the callouses of her fingers, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he felt beneath her touch, the way he responded to her, and the way her body seemed to hum with life in a way it never had before.

The kiss deepened, and she let herself get lost in it, the lines between where he ended and she began blurring with every passing second. She couldn’t hold back the soft, needy sound that escaped her throat, muffled against his lips but no less desperate. She pressed herself closer to him, needing to be closer to him. To feel his warmth envelope her completely.

She broke the kiss, her breaths coming fast and uneven as her lips lingered near his. Her emerald eyes glimmered with mischief and raw emotion as they locked onto his, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. That same grin, the one that usually preceded a sharp quip or teasing remark, was softer now, laced with affection and desire.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice low and playful, “there is a bed in this room.” Her fingers remained tangled in his hair, tugging gently as her grin widened, teasing and full of unspoken invitation. “Unless, of course, you’re enjoying the chair that much.”

Sjan-dehk glanced at the bed. “So there is,” he remarked, looking back at her with a grin. “This chair has its charms, but it’s not doing my back any favours.” He waggled his brows. “Not with what we’re doing with it.”

Her words hung in the air, daring him, tempting him, yet leaving him with the choice. She let out a quiet laugh, her cheeks flushed and her pulse still racing, unable to fully hide the giddiness or the growing fire inside her. And though her grin stayed playful, her eyes betrayed how much this moment meant to her…how much he meant to her. How much she wanted him. Needed him.

Her laugh was like the gentle lapping of waves to his ears. Calming, pleasant, beautiful. He took time to return her grin, and to hold her gaze for a moment. The challenge in her expression was clear, as was her desire. “Well,” Sjan-dehk began, tightening his hold on her. “Excuse me, then.”

In one swift move, he stood up, at the same time scooping Kalliope into his arms. He looked down at her as he adjusted his grip to hold her tightly and securely against his chest. “Let’s go,” he whispered with mischief in his words and anticipation on his face. He crossed the room towards the bed in only a couple of strides. And yet, his heart thumped as if he were running a mile. It announced his desire, his want like an overly-eager herald.

She let out a soft, surprised laugh as he lifted her effortlessly, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck to steady herself. She gazed up at him, her emerald eyes shimmering with affection and playful delight, her fingers curling slightly against the back of his neck. She pressed herself closer to him, relishing the steady strength of his hold, as she nuzzled into his neck, placing soft kisses there.

Sjan-dehk had to resist the urge to rush, to simply toss her onto the bed and continue with things. He took the time to gently lay her onto the soft mattress before standing back up to hastily unbuckle his sword-and-pistol belt, and remove any other unnecessary equipment. They fell to the floor, clattering noisily against varnished wood and resting in messy heaps. None of that mattered to Sjan-dehk – his attention was now entirely focused on Kalliope. A sudden flash of awkwardness came over him, and with it came hesitation. But as with before, neither of those feelings lasted for long.

He climbed onto the bed, crawling over her and gazing down into those bright, verdant eyes. He had lost count as to how many times he had done just that, but that didn’t matter. It still felt as if he were looking into them for the first time. He held himself up with a hand pressing into the mattress right by her head. “So,” he said and lowered himself slightly. “Where do you suppose this is going to go?”

Her fingertips traced the line of his jaw, then slid gently along his cheek, her touch light but sure. She could feel the warmth of his skin beneath her touch, the steady rhythm of his breath, and it made her heart beat all the more wildly. With a soft shift beneath him, she lifted one leg, sliding it over his side until it brushed against his waist. The motion was slow, deliberate, a silent invitation. Her other hand, still resting against his face, slid down to the back of his neck, fingers curling into his hair as she gently tugged him closer.

Her voice, when it came, was barely more than a breath, hushed with raw emotion. “I want you, Sjan-dehk,” she murmured, her lips almost brushing against his. “I need you. I don’t want to stop here. I want this to go as far as you’ll let it. As far as we can go.”

Sjan-dehk paused for a moment. How far did he want to go? Where did he even intend to go? There was something wrong with this entire situation, a small, quiet part of his mind knew. It wasn’t like him to do anything without knowing his heading or his course. And yet, he couldn’t care less about that. It was too late now, he thought. There wasn’t any way for him to go, but forward.

She let her hand drift down, her fingers tracing over his chest teasingly. She gazed into his eyes, her own vulnerable and open, as if every layer of defense she had built up over time was melting away in the heat of this moment. She recognized there was a fuzziness to her thoughts, something that should have given her pause, but she was too far gone in her desire to care.

“Pretty sure I did warn you that if you kissed me I wouldn't want to stop there.” She teased him with a smirk as she pressed her leg a little closer against him, feeling the tension and the heat build between them. There was no room for hesitation now, no fear or doubt. Just her, her need, and the way she was fully, entirely giving herself over to him. “Don’t hold back.” She whispered, her voice almost a plea.

“That you did,” Sjan-dehk said with a quiet chuckle. He placed his hand over hers, pressing it against his chest, and leaned in closer. A pleased, content sound rumbled in his throat as he brushed his lips over hers in a brief, fleeting kiss. Then, he grinned, his other hand slowly, languidly, trailing down the front of her dress. He felt the soft fabric beneath his fingertips, the stiffness of the bodice against his palms, and the tantalising dips and curves of her body.

Instead of taking her clothes off, however, he brought his hand to the sash around his waist. With the swift and practiced hands of an experienced sailor, he undid the knot, pulled it off, and scrunched it into a ball before tossing it aside. A few more deft movements of his fingers loosened the strings that held his tunics in place. His clothes now draped from his frame like sails from a mast. “I don’t want to ruin your dress,” he said even as he teased the laces on Kalliope’s bodice. “So you might have to do this yourself, if you don’t mind.”

Kalliope’s lips curved into a sly, playful grin, her eyes flickering with mischief as she watched him, arching ever so slightly into his touch. “Afraid you’ll get tangled up, sailor?” she teased, her voice low and velvety as her gaze dropped briefly to the loosened fabric of his tunic. “You’ve managed knots in the middle of a storm, haven’t you?”

Her hands trailed down his chest, fingers tracing the edges of the fabric that hung from him, feeling the heat of his skin beneath before her hands slid to her bodice. She took her time as she began to untie the laces he had teased, her fingers moving with a languid, deliberate grace. She tugged one lace loose, then another, her lips parting as her breathing deepened. She leaned in as she loosened the last of it, her lips grazing his ear as she whispered, “But since you asked so nicely…”

Her bodice fell away, revealing more of her sun-kissed skin, and she reclined back onto the bed, her smirk softening into something more open and vulnerable. Her emerald eyes locked onto his, holding him captive with a look that said she trusted him, wanted him, needed him. “No more holding back, Sjan-dehk,” she murmured, her voice softer now, threaded with affection and desire. “I’m yours.”

Time: 28th, Evening
Location: Edin Theater
Interactions:
Mentions: Calbert, Persephone/Olivia, Charlotte


The past few days had been rough on him physically and mentally. This made the idea of performing after the break-in have the baron offer to cancel.

At first, he intended to take it, but after all the bullshit Calbert put him through and his outburst were clear signs. He had too much pent up in him, his black-gloved right hand gripped the semi-large box clutched to his right side as he walked.

An outlet was needed, and this theater offered him the perfect opportunity to alleviate some of his anxiety, enough to get his head back to stability. It was only fair to show Calbert his thanks for the gifts his goons kindly left them.

With such a bold message clear, the count probably expected him to hide away or run which he didn’t want to lie to himself, he almost did. Were it not for his little sneak out to Char’s place earlier this morning he might have cowered in some bedroom corner. Shaking the bitter image away followed by an airy huff. No one was better at knocking his sense back in than Percy, a sly chuckle and Char’s concern and generosity along with knowing they were actually safe helped to renew his spirits.

His family, however, he still had yet gotten word on. A curse to these mule slow-ass forms of getting mail around. He could only trust they were unharmed like his friends.

The sleep after improved his complexion, albeit still. His hair proved a real battle due to stiff bed hair, but after much brush wrestling and enough gel to give his blonde hair a bright golden sheen almost, the cowlick bounced brightly. Choosing to wear a simple Dark-blue Dress suit without the frills and cape, much as he liked it. Uncomfortable as ever, but it covered up the marks and bruises so it would have to do. No, his real fit rested within the box; smirking at the thought of Calbert’s face in shock to see or hear of his little show despite the scare attempt.

Kazumin knew running wasn’t running and the man already thought him mad. So might as well give the man what he wanted.* Always wanted to perform to a big crowd…wished it had been better circumstances but...* Pumping his free fist up in excitement trying to enjoy it;, even if a little a bit of his old gumption helped bolster his wavering confidence.

The theater soon came into view, and he stopped a short distance away, having decided to make his way there on foot. The walk had been what he needed to get fresh air and think about how he should approach this dance. As there were plenty of things he wanted to say to the bastard, most of all longed to sock him in that smug prick face.

He thought back to Calbert’s party and his plans, likely his nerves and proper motivation that stopped him. Kazu never wanted or asked for any of it, the dinner ensured no peace and the tree took away his option to run, this left him with very little to do, and like damn hell was he going to spend it cowering and looking over his shoulder….not anymore. Not when his family’s safety was at risk.

Yet, the fact that Princess Ani had a big hand in the theater’s special event meant he didn’t want to do anything to ruin it. Not to mention lack of prep and time due to his needing to recuperate. And unlikely he'd get a second chance on stage to show off his bombastic dance skills without the boring ballrooms in the way.

No, today would just be that, a dance. A little teaser for the count. Plus, there was still a certain matter with Fritz he needed to discuss. Figuring out if he truly was a good man and an ally of his or not was first before proceeding on, though. Caution. Caution was the one thing he had to keep in mind most going forward; a truly deadly challenge.

With his mind calmed and focused finally, Kazumin hummed his way inside.

Kalliope stirred as the first light of morning filtered into the room, the warmth of the bed and the weight of exhaustion keeping her in a hazy, dreamlike state. Her body felt heavy, her muscles achingly relaxed in a way that seemed unfamiliar. Slowly, her senses began to return. First, the scent of salt and something earthy, comforting and faintly familiar. Then, the steady rhythm of a heartbeat beneath her ear. The rise and fall of a chest.

She froze.

Her mind, still sluggish from sleep, struggled to piece together what was happening. She blinked up at the ceiling, her thoughts sluggishly fumbling over why it felt closer than it should have. And then it hit her. Her cheek was resting against someone’s bare chest — firm, warm, and undeniably alive.

Her breath caught, and her heart seemed to stop altogether as the weight of realization began to creep in. Slowly, tentatively, she shifted her head ever so slightly, her eyes trailing upward to find a face. Sjan-dehk. He was there, his features softened in sleep. His lips parted slightly as he exhaled a slow, steady breath, utterly peaceful in a way that struck her like a lightning bolt.

Panic seized her.

A rush of heat flooded her cheeks as her body stiffened. That’s when she realized…her skin. Her bare skin. The blanket was draped over her, but beneath it, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Her hands clutched at the fabric instinctively, pulling it tighter around herself as a flood of half-formed memories and blurred sensations assaulted her. She couldn’t make sense of them. There was too much, and yet not enough.

She sat there for a long moment, her chest tight and her pulse racing as she tried to catch her breath. Her mind scrambled for answers, replaying the events of the previous night in her head, but they felt slippery, disjointed. There were gaps, and the more she searched for them, the harder they were to grasp. She couldn't really remember anything beyond sitting down to look over the letter.

“Sjan-dehk,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she gave his chest the smallest of nudges. When he didn’t stir, she tried again, this time with a bit more urgency. “Sjan-dehk!” She was sitting up now, staring down at him as she held the blanket to her chest.

The peaceful, dreamless sleep should have been his first clue that something was wrong.

For sleep didn’t come easily to Sjan-dehk. Not in recent days, in any case, and certainly not this kind of serene, untroubled sleep. Most of his nights since coming to Sorian had been plagued by dreams, or nightmares, or something else entirely. He didn’t quite know what to call them. Only when he was well-and-properly fatigued did his mind spare him of that mysterious lady, of those terrible scenes, of painful memories he would rather forget.

And as far as he could recall, last night hadn’t tired him to that point. It had been exciting, surely, but it didn’t exactly take much out of him.

Kalliope’s urgent call pulled him from his rest. Sjan-dehk’s eyes shot open, and he quickly sat up, the sudden move almost throwing the covers off of his body. The first thing he noticed – even before his vision cleared – was the cooling draft washing over his skin. That was strange; he didn’t recall taking off his clothes. “What happened?” he asked, his voice hoarse and groggy. “Did we fall asleep?” With a few rapid blinks, he cleared the sleep from his eyes.

Then, he felt his heart stop.

Sitting right beside him, and with only the covers protecting her modesty, was Kalliope. “S-Sorry!” He blurted out, immediately turning his head away. From what he felt upon his body, he knew that he too was utterly naked, but that fact only floated on the surface of his strangely lethargic mind. He tried to think, but his thoughts crawled like torpid snails into his head. And when they arrived, they were in a tangled mess, each with no clear start, no clear end, and splitting into their own threads and melding with each other.

He drew in a deep breath.

The last thing he could remember of last night was reading the letter with Kalliope. Everything after that, however, wasn’t just a blur. It was completely missing. There was a gaping hole in his memory, and the more he tried to piece things together, the more confused and worried he became. But one thing was for certain. Kalliope and he had done something, and based on what he had awoken to, it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out just what that something was.

“Fuck,” he said in a quiet voice. Turning back to face Kalliope, he looked at her with a face that made his worry, his unease, and his haunted realisation all too clear. “Fuck. What did I fucking do to you?”

Kalliope stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her mind spiraled further and further out of control. His reaction – the panic in his voice, the guilt etched across his face – wasn’t helping her own. If anything, it made the situation even more real.

“Fuck,” she repeated, her voice quiet but laced with disbelief and growing terror. The word sat heavy in the air, the irony of it hitting her like a slap. Her gaze dropped to the rumpled blanket that clung to her chest, and her lips parted as the weight of what they must have done settled over her. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or scream…so she let out a small, bitter laugh.

“That’s exactly what it looks like we did, isn’t it?” she said, her tone biting with a mix of sarcasm and disbelief as she pressed a trembling hand to her temple. “Fuck.” It came out much more harsh than she intended and she realized she needed to calm herself down some as she took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she began, trying to work through things. “Here's what I remember. We entered the room, I began trying to work out the letter, but it made no sense. I remember feeling frustrated and also drinking–” she froze as her eyes went wide. “The tea…” She whispered in horror, but then she turned to Sjan-dehk. “Do you remember any more than that? You drank the tea too, yes?” There was a frantic quality to her voice as she slowly began to realize that they may have been drugged, but she needed to confirm what Sjan-dehk remembered.

The tea!

That got Sjan-dehk’s mind back on track. He thought back to the previous night, to the strange taste of the tea, and how Kalliope couldn’t seem to identify it. Now that he placed every event, every word said back then under scrutiny, he began to make out a picture. All had been normal up until the point when she drank from her cup. Sjan-dehk had thought that she had been merely teasing him, but the way her words came out had sounded a little different from her usual, playful tone.

“Yes, I did,” he said in a murmur, then shook his head and, in a louder voice, continued, “I remember that you drank it first, and you said something about…” He trailed off, familiar awkwardness returning to him. He wasn’t quite sure if he missed it. “About the kiss in the estate. Then I drank, and after that I can’t remember a damn thing. I just remember feeling…I don’t know, carefree? Or drunk.”

He looked past Kalliope and at the cups. They were still where they had been left. “You think maybe someone laced it?” He asked, even though he felt quite certain he already knew the answer. A quick glance at the table all but confirmed it for him. “The letter,” he breathed. “It’s gone!”

“Shit!” Kalliope’s voice cracked like a whip as Sjan-dehk’s words reached her. All sense of modesty vanished as she flung the covers off herself and spun to the edge of the bed. The cool air hit her bare skin, but she didn’t care. Her mind was too preoccupied, too focused on the implications of the missing letter to care about her state of undress.

“Cover yourself!” Sjan-dehk shouted out, and immediately looked away again, this time holding up a hand in front of his eyes to make sure he didn’t see anything he shouldn’t. Moving blindly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, taking the sheets with him. By sheer luck, he found his trousers on the floor and hurriedly tugged them on before following behind Kalliope, his eyes averted and aimed at the ceiling, the walls, and at anything other than her.

She spotted her undergarments crumpled on the floor nearby and scrambled to retrieve them, her back to Sjan-dehk as she quickly began to pull them on. Her movements were frantic, almost desperate, her fingers fumbling over the fabric. If Sjan-dehk looked at her back – and it would have been hard not to, given her sudden urgency – he would have seen the scars that marred her skin. They were pale, jagged streaks, unmistakable remnants of violent lashings. Anyone with experience in the horrors of such punishments would recognize them for what they were: the brutal, lasting marks of a whip. And there were so many of them. It was as if her entire back had once been a canvas for someone’s cruelty.

But Kalliope didn’t give him time to process what he saw. She hurried to the table, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor as her eyes darted across the room, searching for the letter. “It has to be here somewhere,” she muttered, half to herself, half to him. She dropped to her knees, peering under the table, her heart racing with dread. “It could’ve fallen, or–”

Her words stopped abruptly as her gaze fell upon the chair near the table. There, sitting almost mockingly, was something so horrifying it turned her blood to ice. The innkeeper, Elyna’s head, sat perched on the chair, her expression frozen in a grotesque mask of fear. Her lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead, and clutched between her lips was what appeared to be a rolled-up piece of paper.

Kalliope’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn’t make a sound. Her stomach churned violently, threatening to empty its contents as the sight fully registered. Then, finally, a scream tore from her throat, raw and filled with utter terror. She stumbled back, tripping over her own feet as she fell to the ground. Her palms scraped against the floor as she scrambled away from the chair, her body trembling violently.

“Elyna!” she cried, her voice breaking as she pressed herself against the far wall, as far from the chair as she could manage. Her emerald eyes darted wildly to Sjan-dehk, wide with fear and horror. “She’s—she’s—her head—Sjan-dehk!” Her words tumbled out in a frantic rush, her hands pressing against her mouth to stifle another scream as she shut her eyes tightly, trying to get ahold of herself. Trying to convince herself that her friend's head wasn't sitting on that chair.

Sjan-dehk’s jaw set when he saw the innkeeper’s head. All of his earlier confusion and awkwardness disappeared in an instant. Whoever it was that had drugged them had not only caused both him and Kalliope great trouble, but they had also seen fit to murder an innocent innkeeper who had made the mistake of providing a room to the two of them. And all for what? A letter? Some foul business? That very thought made him sick.

He placed a hand on Kalliope’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Then, he carefully draped the sheets around her. “I’ll handle this,” he said quietly before walking over to the severed head.

In all honesty, he didn’t know how he was going to handle this. Dai-sehk was the better man for such a situation; that man would have identified the type of weapon used, which hand the killer used, and also what time the innkeeper had met her untimely demise, all within the time it took for Sjan-dehk to simply get his bearings. But the surgeon wasn’t here.

Sjan-dehk sighed and knelt before the head. The look of fright told him that the innkeeper likely had to see her killer, and their intent. Was it someone she had known? It seemed unlikely – someone like that could have simply taken her by surprise. No, this was a stranger. Next, Sjan-dehk looked at the neck. The cut was mostly clean, with very few jagged edges and hanging flesh. Whatever blade had been used, it had been a remarkably sharp one, and wielded by an experienced knifeman. And they had to have taken their time. That meant that the innkeeper had to have been killed before she was decapitated. And that, in turn, told Sjan-dehk that the killer wasn’t just a simple madman. All this had been done with a purpose in mind. But what?

He paused and blinked. It hadn’t occurred to him until now, but he could still remember a time when a sight as grisly as this would turn his stomach. When did that stop happening? He knew the reason why, though; he had seen many, many atrocities of every type during the war. After a while, his eyes simply stopped seeing them as anything out-of-the-ordinary. After a while, his mind didn’t even think of them as anything outrageous, but rather, something that had to be investigated.

“Fair seas; black sands; tall mountains; shadowed trees; long rivers, may you find where you will be at peace,” he muttered beneath his breath, then closed his eyes for a moment. Maybe he could – no, maybe he should remember what it was like to be affected by such crimes.

Carefully, he took the rolled-up paper between his thumb and index finger, and slowly pulled it free of the dead woman’s teeth. It was mostly dry, and unfolded easily enough. He read it quickly once, then again, and only after that did he start reading. “To the Captain and the…The pretender. You…You’re not as clever as you think. She trusted you. She gave you a place to rest. And now her bl- her blood is on your hands.”

He glanced at the head. “What a load of fucking gullshit,” he remarked. Then, he continued.

“This is only the begi- the beginning. You can try to run. But there is no…escape. You both have your secrets. Your sins. Your scars. Things you th- thought were buried. I…I know them all. I see you for what you truly are.” Despite the gravity and grimness of the situation, it took all of Sjan-dehk’s control to not burst out in a derisive laugh. He had only been in Sorian for roughly a week. What secrets did this person know of him?

His face hardened at the next line, however. “Sailor, your crew will be next if you’re not careful.”

“It’s Captain,” he muttered. “And what a fucking idiot. If they wanted to go after my crew, they should just do it. Now that we’ve got warning, we’ll know what to do. Bloody fucking amateurs.”

“As for the girl, do you really think the world has forgotten your crimes?” Sjan-dehk glanced over the paper’s edge at Kalliope. “Maybe I- I’ll finish what the whip started.” He drew in a deep breath, but he found it difficult to calm himself. He had seen the scars on Kalliope’s back, and he had guessed that they were whipping scars. But to see it confirmed like this just made his blood boil. He crumpled the paper and tossed it aside as if it were poison.

“They signed off with ‘B.R.’, and said something about last night,” he summarised. “So whoever did this-” he gestured to the head and shook his own “-stuck around for whatever fucking reason.”

He squatted in front of Kalliope, placing both hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry for all this,” he said quietly. “Maybe we should’ve gone to Sada Kurau after all. But I promise you, whoever it was that did this shite’s going to get what’s coming. They can threaten all they want and try to sound mysterious all they want, but Sada Kurau’s fought tougher foes before. It’s them who should be scared.”

She stayed slumped against the wall, her breaths coming shallow and uneven as Sjan-dehk read the note aloud. Every word sank deeper into her chest, coiling like a viper around her ribs and sinking it's venomous bite in deeper with each sentence. She didn’t flinch when he crouched in front of her, his hands firm and steady on her shoulders. The steadiness was a mockery to her chaos, and for a brief moment, she hated him for it. Hated that he could be calm while her insides were tearing themselves apart.

“This…” Her voice came out a cracked whisper, but the anger surged too hot to stay contained. “This is my fault. All of it. Elyna’s death. The tea. The letter. Whatever happened between us last night.” Her teeth clenched as her emerald gaze darted away from him, shame flickering in their depths. “If I hadn’t…if I hadn’t teased you, pushed you, thrown myself at you like some desperate, stupid girl–”

Her nails dug into her arms, tearing into the already tender flesh she’d been clawing at moments before. Blood beaded and ran down in slow rivulets, but she didn’t care. The pain was grounding, but not enough to stop the torrent of self-loathing spilling from her lips.

Sjan-dehk listened to her, and though he shook his head, he said nothing for now. He had an inkling as to what was coming. It was something he had gone through several times before. Both as the one listening, and the one spiralling into despair. As much as he wanted to comfort her now, he knew that now was the time to allow her to speak. To allow her to release as much of the pressure building up in her heart and mind as possible.

“I’m an idiot,” she spat, her voice sharp and filled with venom, directed entirely at herself. “I thought flirting and games were harmless. But no. No, because here we are. Drugged. In a bed we never should’ve been in together. And you–” Her voice cracked, and her fingers curled tighter against her bloodied arms. “You looked like you hated that you found yourself here, rightfully so. And now you’re stuck in this mess because of me.”

Her head fell back against the wall, her eyes squeezed shut, and her jaw tightened as if she were physically holding herself together. The weight of his steady presence was unbearable. She felt like she didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve his patience or his understanding. He shouldn’t be here. He should be with his crew, his ship, his life – not cleaning up the wreckage of hers.

“Maybe if I’d just stayed out of your life entirely, none of this would’ve happened,” she muttered bitterly, her voice soft but trembling with the sharp edges of her emotions. “Maybe if I hadn’t teased, or flirted, or—fuck—been alive, you wouldn’t be in danger now. Your crew wouldn’t be in danger. Elyna would still be alive. And last night wouldn’t be some…some nightmare we have to drag around with us.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, the storm of guilt and anger building and crashing inside her, but she forced her eyes open, fixing Sjan-dehk with a look that was both desperate and resolute. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her nails unclenching from her arms. The blood-streaked trails on her skin stung, but they were nothing compared to the ache of the weight crushing her chest.

“You shouldn’t be here, Sjan-dehk,” she said, her voice steadying as a cold, bitter resolve set in. “This isn’t your fight. You shouldn't have to deal with this. And if they want me, then they can fucking come for me.”

Her lips curled into a bitter, humorless smile. “Maybe they’ll succeed where others failed. Maybe they’ll finally finish what I couldn’t do myself, no matter how hard I tried.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of a dark history she refused to explain. Her jaw tightened, her knuckles white as her fists curled at her sides. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t break. She would not yield.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Sjan-dehk repeated with a nod. “You’re right there. As far as how things should be, I should be home in Iwa-Jafi, sitting in harbour and waiting for my next assignment. I shouldn’t be on the other side of the world, in a strange city and surrounded by strange things. If you’d asked me a week ago about how I think things should be, I’d tell you that I should be doing what I swore to do, and be patrolling Viserjantan seas for pirates. That, or doing whatever nonsense the navy wants me to do. Maybe I’d just be standing on Sada Kurau and staring into nothing all day. Who knows?”

Before she could say anything, he placed his hands on her shoulders once more. Determination was in his eyes when he looked at her. “But now that I’m here, I can’t say I regret a single thing. Aye, I’ve likely gotten into more trouble than I should’ve, but that’s nothing new for me. Trouble’s always close behind me, wherever I go.” He placed his hands on hers, and carefully brought them to the floor. His touch was gentle, and his expression soft, as he picked up his sash and used it to wipe the blood off of her arms.

“I don’t hate that I’m here,” he said as he dabbed the cloth against her wounds. “I’m…Well, you likely know by now that I’m not exactly used to this sort of thing. But I don’t…” He trailed off, heat flooding his cheeks and the words suddenly refusing to leave his mouth. He forced them out, anyway. “I don’t hate it. If I look like I do, then I apologise. I just don’t really know how to respond to them.”

He glanced up at her with a grin, meant to comfort her. “But I guess I’m learning, eh?”

Once the wounds were clean enough, he dropped the sash. Then, he pulled Kalliope into a hug. His movements were awkward, and his arms didn’t seem to know where they were supposed to go, but he hoped that he made up for it with his sincerity. He placed a hand on the back of her head, fingers brushing through her hair. “What happened to Elyna isn’t your fault,” he whispered. “The only person who should be blamed is the one who killed her. For what reason did they have to kill an innkeeper, of all people? To send a message? That’s just a wicked cunt being a wicked cunt. Nobody could’ve expected that they’d do something like that over a damn letter.”

“And as for Sada Kurau and my crew,” he continued, pausing to let out a short chuckle. “Don’t worry about them. Worry more about the ones going after them. They might not look it, but every last one of them’s a veteran in their own right. They can take care of themselves. And nobody sails with Sada Kurau expecting to have an easy and trouble-free time. They knew what they were getting into when they decided to join her crew.”

He gently pressed her head into his shoulder, his other hand slowly patting her back. “And I’d hate to tell you this, but you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not, on this. I’ve already sunk at least two of this…’B.R.’s ships, and I’m not about to stop. I reckon they’d come after me eventually, even if you weren’t involved.” He leaned back and looked at her with a smile. “So you’re not alone in this, Kali. If they want you, then they’ll have to deal with me, with Sada Kurau, and with her crew.”

Kalliope froze in Sjan-dehk’s embrace, her breath hitching as his arms settled awkwardly yet firmly around her. She didn’t move at first, her body stiff against his, but the steady rhythm of his heart and the warmth of his touch began to chip away at the walls she’d frantically built around herself. Slowly, hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as if he were the only thing tethering her to reality.

Her grip tightened, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself rest against him. His scent filled her senses, grounding her more than she cared to admit. It was comforting, soothing even, until a memory flashed vividly before her eyes: waking up tangled in him, her head on his chest, his heartbeat lulling her into a moment of peace she hadn’t known in years.

Her breath caught again, but this time for an entirely different reason. The shame she’d tried to push away surged back, sharp and unrelenting. She squeezed her eyes shut, holding onto him for just a moment longer, before finally pulling back. She untangled herself from his arms carefully, her hands lingering for a second before she pushed herself up from the floor and stepped away entirely.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice trembling but sincere. “For your kindness. For your reassurance. I…I don’t deserve it, but thank you.”

“Don’t say that,” Sjan-dehk said, his voice just as soft. “You do deserve it. And for what it’s worth, I’m giving it to you anyway.”

She turned away, her movements deliberate as she crossed the room to retrieve the rest of her clothing. She didn’t meet his gaze as she dressed, her hands fumbling slightly as she pulled her dress on and fastened the ties. “I’m sorry for freaking out like that,” she said, her tone quieter now, as if she were ashamed of her outburst. “I… I don’t know how to deal with all of this currently. Everything feels like it’s crashing down at once, and I…I just need some time to process.”

She glanced over her shoulder, her emerald eyes flickering with a mix of gratitude and unease. “You should go back to your crew. They need you more than I do right now. And…” She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip before forcing the next words out, her voice laced with nervousness. “I’ll… I’ll make sure there’s no, um, child that results from…from last night. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll handle it. That way, we can just…pretend it didn’t happen. Move on.”

“My crew will be fine,” Sjan-dehk said with a shake of his head. “If they can’t live without me for a few hours, then I’ve taken on the wrong people. Don’t think I can leave you on your own right now, even if I want to. Which I don’t.”

At first, Sjan-dehk didn’t understand what Kalliope meant by her next words. But when he did, a flush came over his cheeks, and he averted his eyes. Clearing his throat, he composed himself as best he could before speaking. “That…You won’t need to do that,” he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and glancing at her. “If…Well, if something…I mean, someone results from what we did, I’m not going to run away. I’ll ah…I’ll take responsibility for it. Properly. I’ll be proper about it, don’t worry about a thing.”

He swallowed hard before continuing. “And, well, whatever happened, happened. We don’t…Well, to pretend that it didn’t happen won’t make things any different.” The pink flush of his cheeks deepened to a burning scarlet. “It really doesn’t bother me. Honest.”

Her words were rushed, her face flushing slightly as she fiddled with the hem of her bodice, avoiding his eyes. After a moment, she straightened, forcing a small, tight smile. “Thank you again, Sjan-dehk. For everything. I won’t forget it.” She folded her arms across her chest, suddenly feeling very small as she stood there. “And I suppose you're right, we're in this together now. So if any more threats or anything come to you or your crew, please let me know? I'll be sure to do the same.”

Sjan-dehk nodded and released a mental sigh of relief, grateful for the change of subject. “And if you like, you’re welcome to stay about Sada Kurau for as long as you need. Doesn’t sound like dry land’s going to be safe.”

Her eyes then caught sight of the head on the chair and she felt like she's been stabbed once more, but pushed it aside as she sighed. “Fuck. I guess I need to figure out what to do with her…”

A grimace formed on Sjan-dehk’s face as he followed her gaze. “We should treat her proper,” was all he could manage to say. He walked over to the head, picking up a sheet along the way. With respect and as much solemness as he could manage, he carefully draped the white cloth over the head. “I’m pretty sure the rest of her should still be downstairs,” he mused aloud. “We can…Collect her, and do whatever it is you Caesonians do with your dead. Otherwise…I don’t think anyone would complain if I send her off the Jafin way.”

He paced around the room, picking up his clothes along the way and throwing them on. “It’s the least we can do, I suppose. But don’t rush yourself, Kali. Take all the time you need.”

Kalliope’s jaw tightened as Sjan-dehk spoke, her vivid green eyes fixed on the sheet-covered head with a hollow stare. His kindness, his willingness to take responsibility, and the way he respected Elyna–even in death–only made it harder for her to keep her emotions at bay. She folded her arms tightly across her chest, a futile attempt to shield herself from the storm of feelings threatening to consume her.

She inhaled sharply through her nose, turning her head away from him as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I…” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. “I can’t…pretend last night didn’t happen. You’re right about that.” Her gaze remained distant as she spoke, her words slow and deliberate. “But I also can’t fully deal with it right now. Everything’s too…raw. And I don’t trust myself to say or do the right thing. Not yet.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line, a flash of guilt passing across her face. “I crossed a line I set for myself, Sjan-dehk. Something I swore I wouldn’t let happen.” Her voice was softer now, almost as if confessing to herself. “And it wasn’t just about last night. It’s about what led up to it, all my flirting and teasing. About how I let myself…” She faltered, shaking her head. “Let myself start feeling things I shouldn’t feel. For you.”

“What are you-” Sjan-dehk began, his eyes widening and hands frozen in the middle of tightening his sword-and-pistol belt around his waist. For the moment, he could only focus on her. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Had he heard her correctly? Questions sprouted in his head, and thankfully, he didn’t have to wonder for long. Kalliope went on before he could finish his sentence.

Her arms dropped to her sides, and she finally turned to face him, her expression as guarded as ever. “I’ll explain, Sjan-dehk. I owe you that much and more honestly. But I need time to figure out…how I feel. About all of this. About us.” Her voice softened as she added, almost as if to herself, “If there even is an ‘us’ to figure out.”

Sjan-dehk nodded slowly. There was little doubt in his head as to what Kalliope had meant, and what it was that she needed to figure out. A flutter rippled across his heart at the thought – how else could he react, knowing that a lady as pretty as her held fondness towards him? And yet, at the same time, a ball of nervousness settled in his stomach, mixed with relief. What if she had said what she wanted to say? How would he have responded? How did he really feel about her? Sjan-dehk found no quick answers to those questions. Never had he thought that he would have to even consider them.

He cleared his throat, using the action as an excuse to avert his gaze for a moment. “Yes, there’s no rush for…This sort of thing, yes?” He said awkwardly. Might have to start thinking about this thing as well, he added in his head. The least he could do was to be ready with an answer when Kalliope told him how she felt. He just hoped that it wouldn’t be a disappointing one.

She shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through her auburn waves before refocusing on the grim task at hand. “As for Elyna…” Kalliope trailed off, her lips pressing into a thin line as she glanced back at the draped head. A pang of guilt twisted in her chest–Elyna deserved more than to be treated as a problem to be solved, but circumstances didn’t leave them much choice.

“I hate this,” she muttered bitterly, more to herself than him. “But we can’t risk this being traced back to us. If someone ties her death to me, or to you, it’ll be a death sentence for both of us. If we’re lucky.”

Her eyes flicked to Sjan-dehk’s face, searching his expression for any sign of judgment or disagreement. “A Jafin burial might be the best option. It’s dignified, it’s final, and it keeps her far from prying eyes.” She hesitated, her brows furrowing in thought. “I’m hoping the rest of her body is downstairs, like you said, and no one else has found it yet. Maybe we can make it look like she disappeared. If her people suspect foul play and decide to start asking questions, we’re both going to be in deep shit.”

“We Jafins leave no graves, as they say,” Sjan-dehk replied. The pain lacing Kalliope’s words and on her face didn’t go unnoticed by him. He stepped forward, adjusting his belts as he did so, and placed himself between her eyes and the head. “We’ll have to get her to Sada Kurau. She’ll take care of her properly until it’s time for her to meet the Eternal Horizon. I’ll have the crew see to it.”

A heavy silence fell as she considered their options, the weight of the decision settling on her shoulders. “I’ll go with you,” she said finally, her voice quiet but resolute. “To…collect the rest of her. She deserves at least that much respect.” She exhaled, her hands trembling slightly before she clenched them into fists at her sides. “And if we do this right, we can make sure no one ever ties this to us.”

She paused, then added in a near-whisper, “I’m sorry you got dragged into this. You didn’t deserve it.”

Turning toward the door, she glanced over her shoulder, her expression a mixture of guilt, gratitude, and something far more complicated. “Let’s get this over with. Then we can figure out the rest.”

As Sjan-dehk placed his back atop his head, so too did he wipe his mind of his earlier thoughts. Now wasn’t the time for him to ponder over the events of last night; of how Kalliope and he had woken up this morning, or even about his feelings. He had a mission – to recover the innkeeper’s body if it was still around, and then somehow bring it to [/I]Sada Kurau[/I]. That was all he needed to know.

“I’ll go first,” he said, approaching the door and drawing a pistol. With a hand on the knob, he drew in a deep breath before opening it suddenly. He burst through the doorway, firelock raised and aimed at the far end of the corridor. Then, he quickly spun around to check the other direction. “Hallway looks clear,” he called back to Kalliope. Even so, he maintained a vigilant watch. The innkeeper’s murderer had been watching them throughout the night. They could still be hidden away somewhere.

“You know this place better than I do,” Sjan-dehk said. “Lead the way, and I’ll watch your back.”

Kalliope moved swiftly and silently down the hallway, blade in hand. “Elyna’s room is at the far end, left side,” she whispered over her shoulder to Sjan-dehk. “She always retired there alone before dawn. Well, unless she decided to enjoy the company of someone for the night. If her body’s anywhere, it’ll be there.”

The faint scent of lavender clung to the air, a scent distinctly Elyna for Kalliope, a pang of hurt gripped her chest. Her jaw tightened, her grip on her weapon firm as they reached the door. She paused, her sharp green eyes darting to Sjan-dehk. “Be ready. If the murderer is still here, well,” she murmured as a darkness crept over her features, “you might have to stop me from ripping their fucking throat out.”

Sjan-dehk nodded, holding his pistol in one hand, and the other resting on one of his swords.

Pushing the door open cautiously, she stepped inside. Sjan-dehk followed in after her, sweeping the muzzle of his pistol over the walls and ceiling. The curtains were drawn, casting the room in dim shadows. At first glance, everything appeared undisturbed, but the air felt heavy, oppressive and a slight metallic scent mingled with that of lavender. Kalliope scanned the space, her stomach knotting as her eyes fell to the dark, viscous stain near the bed. Blood.

Her gaze lingered on the crimson trail leading to the far side of the room, where Elyna’s crumpled body lay, twisted and lifeless. The jagged stump where her head had been was unmistakable, confirming the gruesome reality.

Kalliope swallowed hard, forcing down the wave of nausea clawing its way up her throat. “Gods…” she muttered under her breath, stepping closer with measured care. She once again pushes her feelings aside, knowing they needed to get to business. She scanned the room quickly, not seeing any remnants of a killer, before she moved to open the curtains slightly to let in some light so they could see better. “Elyna has family up in Javaria. I'll right a letter in Elyna's handwriting for the staff to find that explains that she had a family emergency and had to travel up there. That'll buy us time to find who did this.” She pulled out a piece of paper and, using a partially written letter that was already on the desk, started copying Elyna's handwriting for the letter.

She turned to Sjan-dehk, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in her hands. “We need to get her to your ship, but doing so in broad daylight might be difficult. We could always leave the window unlocked, hide the body for now, and retrieve it later tonight when there's less eyes around and more shadows to hide in.” Her gaze flicked back to Elyna’s mutilated form, and her jaw set with grim determination, before she glanced back at Sjan-dehk. “Unless you have any ideas?”

Sjan-dehk shook his head. “No, can’t say I do. We’ll do as you say.”

He glanced at the body and grimaced. Then, he looked at Kalliope’s trembling hands, at the dimness in her eyes, and at the grimness colouring her visage. Wordlessly, he slowly and carefully picked his way to the bed sitting under the windowsill. He grabbed a corner of an unkempt sheet, pulled it free, and returned to the body. “Fair seas; black sands; tall mountains; long rivers; shadowed trees; clear skies, may you find peace wherever you may go,” he said again in a hushed voice as he covered the innkeeper’s body with the sheet.

Kalliope’s breath hitched as she watched Sjan-dehk carefully shroud Elyna’s body, his whispered farewell carrying a reverence that struck her like a tidal wave. The tenderness in his actions warmed her, softening the edges of the chaos inside her, yet it also made her chest ache unbearably. Every small, thoughtful gesture of his reminded her of why her resolve to keep him at arm’s length was crumbling. He wasn’t just kind; he was steady, dependable, and far too good for someone like her. Her grip on the desk tightened as she fought the rising tide of her feelings, forcing herself to bury them for the moment–just as she always had. “Thank you for that.” She all but whispered as she turned her focus back to the letter she was writing.

“We can put her on the bed,” he said and circled the body to tuck the edges of the sheet under it. He tried to perform the task with as much respect as possible, but that was a tall order, considering that he was trying to secure the corpse in the sheet as tightly as possible. “When you’re finished, I’ll bring the rest of her over. Prying eyes’ll likely think she’s sleeping.”

He looked out the window and chewed on his lip. “The murderous bastard could’ve people watching the entrance. Or at least, that’s what that cunt and his friends should do, if they’ve got any brains to share between them. Sneaking out the window might be better for us. Then we can leave it unlocked for tonight.”

The words came out clinically, as if he were planning an operation. But as he turned to face Kalliope, his gaze softened. When he spoke again, his tone was a world apart from before. “You should come to Sada Kurau with me.” It wasn’t so much a statement, as it was a plea. Leaving her alone, after all this, felt like the wrong thing to do. “At least for the rest of the day. It’ll be safer. We’ll be heading out again tonight anyway. Having you aboard will make finding each other that much easier.”

She folded the letter with deliberate care, the weight of Sjan-dehk's plea pressing on her chest. She hesitated, her eyes flicking between him and the shrouded body. Slowly, she stepped toward him. “I'll help move her.” She said while bending to help lift Elyna’s lifeless form onto the bed. Her movements were methodical, yet her mind swirled with conflicting emotions. “I’ll come to the ship,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze as they worked. “Later today. I promise. But I need to handle a few things first.” The words came clipped, heavy with an unspoken need for space–to breathe, to think, and to seek Riona’s advice before facing whatever unspoken connection lingered between them.

Sjan-dehk started to speak, but held his tongue. Both his heart and mind would be so much more at ease with her aboard. However, something told him that he shouldn’t push the matter.

Once Elyna’s body was settled, Kalliope stepped back, brushing a strand of hair from her face as she made her way to the closet. “There’s just one problem with leaving her on the bed to look like she's sleeping,” she said, grabbing handfuls of clothes and tossing them onto the bed. She began arranging them haphazardly, covering the lump of Elyna’s form until it resembled nothing more than a disordered pile of belongings.

She then moved to the desk and held up the letter she’d written, her sharp green eyes meeting Sjan-dehk’s. “If she’s supposed to be gone, it would be suspicious if someone found her ‘sleeping’ here.” Her tone was calm, it being eerily clear how used she was to covering up a murder. “If someone checks in here, it should look like she packed in a hurry. It’ll explain the mess.” She then moved to the door and placed the letter on a small table that sat against the wall just outside of the room. She then quietly shut the door and moved back towards Sjan-dehk. "This way, no one will question it until it's too late.” She stated as she glanced around one last time, nodding once she was satisfied. “Ready to go?”

“I’m not the best at these things,” Sjan-dehk said and took one last look around the room. Everything looked as normal as it could be. He couldn’t say that he found anything that he thought anyone else would find suspicious. At least, not with Kalliope’s forged letter selling the scene. That said, she did seem a little too well-versed in doing such things. It didn’t really bother him – his third brother was in more-or-less the same kind of work – but it did make him a little curious.

Well, curiosity would have to wait. “If you’re happy, I’m happy,” Sjan-dehk finished and tilted his head towards the window. “Should we jump out the window or try our luck with the front door?”

Kalliope gave Sjan-dehk a faint smirk, the glimmer of determination cutting through her weariness. “I think your call about going out the window is the right one.” She crossed the room, her movements precise and practiced. Unlocking the window, she pushed it open with a soft creak and glanced down to gauge the drop. “Not too bad and no window below us,” she murmured, then took her heels off and tossed them out. She swung one leg over the sill, her balance steady.

With a deft movement, Kalliope slid out and gripped the ledge, her feet finding purchase on the uneven wall below. Her descent was fluid, almost feline, as she dropped the last few feet to the ground, landing silently in a crouch. Straightening, she dusted off her hands and tilted her head up to Sjan-dehk. “Come on, Captain. Try to keep up.” Her voice held a wry edge, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of warmth.

Despite the situation, and the body on the bed practically under him, Sjan-dehk grinned. It was a tiny one, but still a grin nonetheless. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Not the first window I’ve jumped out of.”

He placed a hand on the windowsill, taking a moment to make sure he had a firm grip. Then, with an ease that was almost practiced, he vaulted through the opening. His scabbards scraped against the window frame, but they made only a quiet sound. He didn’t bother with the wall Kalliope had used to break her fall. Instead, he landed directly on the ground, rolling on his side to cushion the impact. He stood up beside her, brushing himself off with a self-assured smirk. “See?” He said.

For the first time this morning, the sun personally greeted him with its warmth and light. The sky was clear, and the clouds long and wispy. “Still early in the day,” he remarked before turning his attention to Kalliope. Part of him still worried over her, but he knew better than to fuss over her. “Let’s find our way to the street. Then we can go where we need to go.”

She shook her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips despite herself. “Show-off,” she teased, the words slipping out too easily. She immediately scolded herself for how natural it felt, for the familiarity she wasn’t sure she was quite ready to embrace again. Clearing her throat, she turned and began leading the way toward the street, her steps purposeful but quiet.

Once they reached the alleyway’s mouth, she hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I’ll be at your ship this afternoon,” she said, her voice softer, tinged with an awkward edge. “Just…give me a few hours. I’ll keep my word.” She didn’t linger on his expression, turning away quickly as if afraid she might falter. “Take care of yourself, Captain,” she added, her voice barely above a murmur before she disappeared into the bustling streets.

“I’ll see you then,” Sjan-dehk called after her. He didn’t leave immediately, instead lingering just long enough to watch her safely disappear into the crowd. Only once he had fully lost sight of her did he start moving, turning away and in the direction of the docks. There would be plenty of work for him to take care of upon his return, he reckoned. That was, of course, on top of him explaining his absence the previous night to his crew. They had been expecting him to return, after all.

But even with all that on his mind, he still found it hard to avoid thinking about Kalliope’s expression as she had left. Had she seemed…Upset? Sad? Sjan-dehk wasn’t sure what to call it, but it couldn’t be anything too positive, he guessed. Somehow, that brought a sour taste to his mouth.

He shook his head. He could think about that later. For now, he would have to see to Sada Kurau, as well as prepare for tonight’s task. “Stay safe, Kali,” he murmured under his breath.

---

Time: 10:00 AM
Location:Sorian Gallery of Fine Arts
Mention: @Helo Rohit
Attire:A Suit Fit For A True Artist

---

The faint glow of candlelight illuminated the gallery’s opulent halls, casting a warm sheen on the polished marble floors. Among the throng of visitors, Milo St. Claire observed with silent reverence.

The artist was dressed in a striking black suit adorned with intricate gold embroidery, the lavish design curling over the fabric like gilded vines. The tailored coat hugged his form perfectly, each flourish of gold shimmering faintly under the gallery’s warm lighting. A high-collared ivory shirt and an opulent cravat completed the ensemble, punctuated by a delicate golden chain draped across his vest. A sleek black cane, more for flair than function, tapped rhythmically against the floor as he moved. His hair, golden and meticulously styled to look effortless, caught the light like threads of spun sunshine. He carried himself as though the room existed for him alone…a presence both magnetic and slightly theatrical.

His sharp hazel eyes flitted over the crowd, studying expressions and gestures as though each person were a character in a story he was silently composing. But then his attention sharpened, landing on a figure standing before Reflections of Reverie. Something in the way this individual lingered…a certain depth in their posture, perhaps, or the intensity of their gaze—piqued Milo’s interest.

A rapping of his cane in synchronicity with each of his steps announced his arrival before the man himself appeared, gliding through the gallery like a performer entering the stage. He stopped just shy of Rohit, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, alluring hazel eyes alight with curiosity.

"I couldn’t help but notice," Milo began, his voice smooth and lilting, "the way you lingered in the Reflections of Reverie exhibit. Your expression was... fascinating…like someone who’d been caught in the jaws of an entity they couldn't quite escape. Or perhaps I'm projecting." He laughed lightly, the sound warm but with a faint edge, as though he relished the mystery his words might conjure.

With a dramatic flourish, he extended a hand. "Milo St. Claire." His eyes sparkled with amusement as he introduced himself. "And what name belongs to one with such a discerning gaze like yours?"