Jaxsen glanced back to the alcoves with the curtains and tassels. Her body froze as she noticed that one of the alcove’s tassels were shifting slightly, as if swaying in some invisible breeze.
No one was near enough to cause a stir in the air, so that meant the movement had to have come from a different source.
With a glance around her for Emerson, she started toward the alcove. He was on the other side of the ballroom, and she caught his gaze and flickered hers to the curtains and back.
He nodded once.
Without waiting for him, she closed the distance to the alcove and made a circumspect route to the curtains, making her approach seem less intentional. When Emerson caught up, she glanced around and then ducked behind the curtains with him close behind.
Anyone who was watching would think they were having a secret tryst.
A perfect cover for any prying eyes.
Emerson’s hand was warm on her back as he followed her into the cover of the curtains. Jaxsen’s skin prickled with gooseflesh at his touch, but as soon as she caught sight of a plain wood door, her instincts took over.
The knob was darkly burnished bronze and cool against her fingers when she twisted it; a gentle clinking echoed as the mechanism turned, and the door swung inwardly with silent precision.
The hall was dark, with only one sputtering lamp, its illumination pathetic at best. Clearly, it wasn’t a hall the host had expected the guests to be using.
Or perhaps, had wanted those who did use it to be cloaked in shadows.
Which was promising.
Jaxsen’s lips twisted into a grin.
Stepping slightly into the hall, she glanced to the left and then right. The hall extended both ways, but the lamp was to the left, so that was the direction Jaxsen took as she moved with silent steps.
Emerson was behind her; she could feel his presence as much as she could feel her own heart beat as it pulsed within her. The hunt of the chase was always a rush. The sound of scuffling feet and voices too low to be understood filtered down the hall from some unknown room.
Hesitating, Jaxsen waited, listening, and piecing together what she could gather from the sounds, or lack thereof.
“Men,”Emerson mouthed as he pointed ahead then gestured to his throat as if to say,”Men’s voices.”
She nodded her agreement and inched farther down the hall to hopefully hear more.
“So, everyone is here?” a voice asked, far enough away the words were almost muddled with the distance.
There was a mummer of voices that sounded like approval.
“Before we begin, I must say that I applaud your forethought in the masks, Wessix.” A woman’s voice carried clearer than the rest, due to its higher pitch.
Another mummer of voices in approving tones echoed softly in the hall.
“No telling what or who is suspect. Best to be cautious, I always say,” presumably Wessix replied. “Clean houses, clean titles, clean characters… at least on the outside. Image is important.”
Jaxsen resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“To business then,” a woman urged, and Jaxsen closed her eyes to focus on the words, making sure she would catch every nuance of each tone and word selection. So much could be determined just by how quickly someone spoke, what words they used, and how much was said regarding a topic.
Emerson was a rock beside her, listening as well.
“My sources say that the olive branch is ready for harvest. The groves are ripe, and the olives are plenty. The harvest date is a month from today, and all those who are ready for the harvest will be on stand-by.”
Again, sounds of approval reached Jaxsen’s ears.
“What of the original grove?”
“It is under control,” came the rather distinct answer. For all their farming terms, they had decided to make a flat reply to that question.
