“A fortunate meeting,” Talon continued. “Never thought losing a gamble would win me a dance with a princess. Lucky me.”
“Lucky you, indeed,” Janus muttered.
She knows.The voices taunted
* * *
Talon quietly pulled on his coat, watching Janus and Kalid talk.
“What do you think will be done?” Janus asked, arms folded tightly.
“Knowing your father, he’ll send extra protection. They should be here in a week.” Kalid answered.
“And the men have not seen anything unusual?”
“No, not a thing. The Altanese have alerted their men to keep eyes out, as well.”
“Good.”
“My lady?” a woman’s voice called from the main bedroom. “I’ve finished the alterations you’ve requested.”
Sweeping around eagerly, Janus followed the voice into the other room.
Figuring now was the best opportunity, Talon quietly pulled the door open and slipped outside, quietly clicking it behind him and offering a nod to the guard before striding away.
Whistling, he tucked his hands in his pockets, crossing the street before slipping into the thin alley between two manors.
Quite the view on this side. A waist-high stone fence blocked off a steep slope, tumbling to a lower city level. Talon walked along it, peering down on the rooftops below, the slopes of mountains in the distance, and the peaks of white beyond. Further than even that, smudges of dark green painted tree tops at the mountain’s base.
Jumping here would be a dizzying fall. One, he doubted anyone could survive.
Checking for onlookers, he quickly vaulted a fence, landing in a garden centered by a cascading fountain. A man leaned on the manor’s back wall, a flask in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. Messy black hair gathered around his collar, brushing against a thick beard. Despite the unkempt state of his hair and the bags shadowing his olive skin, his long coat of rich black velvet could only belong to a rich man. A bright crimson tunic fell to his knees, belted by leather whose buckle was slightly misaligned.
Talon walked past him, leaning on the wall a few paces away. “Good night for bird watching.” He said quietly.
“And I just found one.” The man responded, taking a puff of his cigar before washing it down with whiskey.
Pulling a sealed letter from his satchel, Talon handed it off. The man tucked his cigar into his mouth and accepted the letter, unsealing it and unfolding the paper. His amber eyes hastily read the paper, eyebrows rising with every word. Fire erupted from his palm, engulfing the letter and burning it to ash. Shaking his hand, the man discarded the detritus.
“Explains why I don’t recognize you.” The man chuckled. “I was expecting old Lark.”
“Lark’s hoping to retire soon,” Talon answered, folding his arms and shifting closer. He had heard much about Dinu from his master, though the smell of alcohol was more pungent than Lark had implied.
“Retire?” Dinu snorted. “He won’t be able to let go of the reins.”
“How was your trip?”
“Oh, better than yours, I’d wager.” He placed the cigar in his mouth, words muffled by its presence. “All kinds of Altanese poured from their homes to swarm my ship. Do you know how many guards we need to keep them off it?”
“More than I can afford,” Talon said. He disliked fire and wasn’t fond of heights. The Dragosi’s new flying ships dealt in both.
“Hm.” Dinu studied Talon curiously. “I heard you came in with the Thuatian lass. Pick up anything I should know on the trip?”
“Not what you might expect,” Talon said. “Assassins tried to kill her on the road. I couldn’t find any identification.”
“Well, shit.” Dinu lowered his arm, letting the cigar stub fall to the floor, and he smudged it with the toe of his boot. “And here I was hoping this would pass quietly. A few squabbles, maybe a couple of tavern brawls. Is she alright?”
“Shaken, but unharmed. We haven’t found trouble since.”
