Emeline Holt didn’t have any excessive finery on, like she had worn that morning at the Citadel. She had no gems embedded to her outfit. A thin silver chain hung over her forehead, shadowed by the hood of a pale green cloak lined with satin ribbon. The skinny petite girl held the cloak close around her, eyes round and large while she stared at the people dancing.
Llyr nodded in a slight bow to the wealthy socialite who he'd met that morning, and invited to the meeting with little thought about it. He'd rushed to say hello once she'd stepped through the door because he wanted her to join the venture he was putting together. Her showing up, outside of the Citadel and all the way in the North Oh'Pee, was a great sign.
“You came,” greeted Llyr. He smiled and held his cigarette aside. “Did you want something to drink?”
“Wine, if you will.” She said while she walked past him.
He gestured toward the round table. “Let me introduce you to my associates. This is Snorri, Madam Miller - she’s wonderful - and Lochlann. Everyone, I want you to mee-”
“What’re you doing out of the Citadel’s shadow?” interrupted Lochlann.
Llyr replied, “That’s no tone to take. I invited her an-”
“I don’t always stay where I’m told to,” snapped Emeline.
“Don’t you?” asked the Etzori man.
“I didn’t know you’d be here, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t aware you kept such poor company, Llywelyn.”
“What?” Llyr looked at Lochlann and then at Emeline. “You two know each other?”
“No need to make a fuss, girl,” said Miller. She pulled a chair from a nearby table then set it beside her. “Sit and drink some. You made it all the way out here without a guard at your heels, you might as well get something out of it.”
Emeline sniffed, then settled in the chair with a pout on her lips.
“So, this is-” Llyr tried again.
“Princess,” interjected Lochlann with a stern gaze at him.
“And what do they call you then?” asked Emeline with a sarcastic smile. “Shit eater?”
“That tongue of your’s… hasn’t changed, I hear…” Lochlann shook his head and knocked back what remained of his drink.
“Weren’t you going to get wine?” Emeline looked at Llyr. “I’m thirsty and I won’t be drinking this swill, I guarantee you that.”
Llyr hesitated. The stark contrast from how Emeline had spoken with him on their walk to the bank, and now, took him by surprise.
Lochlann stood and said, “I’ll get the princess her most desired wine.”
“Don’t you spit in it! I’ll know if you do,” she warned.
“This is such a fine turn of the evening,” said Madam Miller. The old lady glanced toward Snorri who smirked behind his smoking pipe.
Llyr returned to his chair. He took a quick drag of his cigarette, revitalizing the ember, then he waved for Miller and Snorri to keep seated. After one more drag, he blew the smoke to the side and then gestured in a casual wave with his cigarette toward Emeline.
“Princess, if you don’t mind me calling you that?” The wealthy girl shrugged. He continued. “Princess here spends most of her time in the Citadel. Specifically, the Pillar. We met earlier this morning. I thought maybe… she might make a good addition to our team.”
Miller glanced over the younger girl with an appraising eye. “Did you now? I wonder why…”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Emeline. She curled her upper lip in response to the older woman’s appraisal. “Do you honestly think I would? Ew. Get your mind out of the gutter from where you were born, old hag.”
“Excuse me?!” Miller, despite her older age, looked about ready to launch a hand across the far younger and frailer girl beside her.
“Now, wait a moment,” said Llyr. He nervously waved to try and distract the attention of the two females. “That’s no way to talk to Madam Miller. I don’t care who you are, I won’t have it.”
Emeline snorted. She stood to leave, only to run into Lochlann who’d returned with a goblet of wine and a bottle to match. The wine sloshed out of the goblet and onto the front of Lochlann’s tunic. It stained deep red over the beige cotton and criss-crossed leather straps.
“Fucking ‘ell, Princess!” Lochlann bellowed. “Watch where yer going!”
“Why don’t you?” She retorted. She flicked her finger out in a rude gesture, then she swiped the goblet out of his hand. “Give me that.”
Llyr looked at Miller and he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
Miller waved a hand at him. She leaned in and said, “I can tell what you were thinking. Doesn’t mean it can’t still work.” The older woman cleared her throat, then said, “You two are making a scene. Both of you stop acting like animals, sit down, and drink nicely like good people do.”
Emeline stuck her tongue out, then slumped in the seat she’d just gotten up from. She placed the goblet against her lips and started a slow drawn-out sip of what wine remained in the cup.
Lochlann returned to his seat, poured himself another drink, then knocked it back in one go.
“You were saying, Llywelyn?” offered Miller with a tilt of her glass toward him.
“I was?” He blinked, then nodded and said, “Right. Yes. Introductions first. This is Madam Miller, her associate, Mister Sn.. St.. Steingrímir?”
The bearded man nodded then mentioned, “Go ‘head and call me Snorri.”
“And it appears that Lochlann already knows you, Emeline.”
“Unfortunately,” said the girl.
Lochlann snorted. He looked aside to watch the dancers in the main space of the tavern.
Llyr glanced between the four that surrounded the round table in front of him. He folded his hands in front of him, tapped a palm against the surface, then said, “Maybe you have some trouble with each other, or maybe you get along just fine, but…”
“...you four are who I want to help settle my business in this city. Now, Lochlann’s already agreed and Madam Miller, your requests will be met so therefore, Mist- Snorri, that is, you’re more than welcome to make your place and we can discuss what that might be. Emeline, I invited you here because I’d like to offer you a position as liaison with those located in the Citadel.”
“Liaison? For what exactly?” she asked and her eyes narrowed while she looked at him.
“That remains to be determined. It will vary a great deal at the start, and you will be free to decline anything that you do see fit to handle,” explained Llyr. He leaned over and gestured to the older woman across from him. “Madam Miller, you will manage that which goes to Emeline… or to Lochlann. Because Lochlann, as soon as my colleague from the south arrives, I need you to attend to different tasks than you have been.”
“Good,” muttered Lochlann. “I’m getting bored having to listen to all these gossip sorts.”
Madam Miller smiled and said, “Snorri could do that, if you didn’t want to wait. He’s wonderful at listening.”
“Is that so?” Llyr hummed, then he nodded. “Very well. Snorri, would you take on news collection within the city so that Lochlann might attend to… other tasks.”
“Can do, boss,” said Snorri with slight jest. He winked.
Llyr shrugged. He tapped the ashes of his cigarette into his empty glass. “I plan to have the location secured within the next several trials. As soon as it is, Madam Miller, we will work to make it how you see fit as that will be where you spend most of your time.”
“First things, it should have a space for meetings so we aren’t flapping away in front of the whole neighborhood,” mentioned Miller. She glanced over at the nearest table where a man cleared his throat, actually got up, and walked away due to her blatant look at him.
“Right… thank you,” said Llyr.
“Hmm.” Emeline leaned aside in her chair, then said, “My parents would be furious if they knew I was sincerely considering this… such a lowly thing… I’ll do it! Unless I change my mind, then I won’t.”
“That’s acceptable, of course. Not that I want your parents to be upset with you,” added Llyr with a nervous laugh.
“You definitely don’t want the Holts upset with you,” said Lochlann.
Emeline scoffed. “Please. It’s not like they would cut off your loans and send you down river!”
Llyr paled slightly when she laughed and the three adults at the table looked at him with obvious concern. He shook his head, then said, “Emeline spends nearly all her time in the Citadel, already. It won’t seem odd if she’s there… if she hears things, or runs into people in the towers.”
“It’s true,” said the dark-haired wealthy girl. “I’m not even supposed to be here. My father and mother want me to spend all my trials in the Citadel. Speaking of which, I should return before my father finishes with his own meeting…” She sighed and finished her wine, then stood with a slight stumble.
“Lochlann,” said Llyr as he looked over at the also drunk Etzori. “Escort her back to the Citadel, please.”
“What?” His eyes widened.
“You wanted different tasks. Snorri’s taking on your old ones.” The biqaj leaned over and softened his voice somewhat. “Consider this your first one. Make sure she arrives back mostly unnoticed, but more importantly safe.”
“What about you?” asked the bruiser.
“I’ll be fine,” insisted Llyr. “I’m not a Citadel girl walking the outer perimeter streets at night.”
Lochlann begrudgingly nodded. He lifted, then grabbed his cloak. “Awright, girl. Let’s get you home then.”
“Ew, don’t you have any guards of better quality?” complained Emeline.
“Not yet. Maybe once we are profitable enough,” teased Llyr. He smiled and the expression seemed to relax her. At least there was that.
The Citadel girl and the Oh’Pee bruiser left the tavern together, with only a few glances their way.
Llyr looked over to Madam Miller and Snorri. “Sorry, that probably could have gone smoother. She hadn’t acted like that when I met her.”
“You’ll find that common for the upper crust in this city,” said Miller. “Put them in their fancy halls and they’ll be all smiles and charm, take them out of the walls and they’ll spit on everyone they meet just because they can't be bothered to outrightly kick or smack 'em. Lest they need something from ‘em, maybe.”
Llyr sighed, flicked the last of the cigarette to fizzle out in what little remained of liquor in his glass, then said, “I’m glad you decided to join the venture, Madam Miller. I'm sorry about the interruption. This is great, though. Now that you’re going to be in the shop, I can move on with some pending purchases, and you’ve likely saved some time by bringing Snorri in.”
“Now, Snorri, about taking on what Lochlann’s been doing for me. We’re going to transition it slow because you’ll need to acquaint yourself with either the same contacts or different ones in the same regards. What I’m thinking is…”
Llyr nodded in a slight bow to the wealthy socialite who he'd met that morning, and invited to the meeting with little thought about it. He'd rushed to say hello once she'd stepped through the door because he wanted her to join the venture he was putting together. Her showing up, outside of the Citadel and all the way in the North Oh'Pee, was a great sign.
“You came,” greeted Llyr. He smiled and held his cigarette aside. “Did you want something to drink?”
“Wine, if you will.” She said while she walked past him.
He gestured toward the round table. “Let me introduce you to my associates. This is Snorri, Madam Miller - she’s wonderful - and Lochlann. Everyone, I want you to mee-”
“What’re you doing out of the Citadel’s shadow?” interrupted Lochlann.
Llyr replied, “That’s no tone to take. I invited her an-”
“I don’t always stay where I’m told to,” snapped Emeline.
“Don’t you?” asked the Etzori man.
“I didn’t know you’d be here, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t aware you kept such poor company, Llywelyn.”
“What?” Llyr looked at Lochlann and then at Emeline. “You two know each other?”
“No need to make a fuss, girl,” said Miller. She pulled a chair from a nearby table then set it beside her. “Sit and drink some. You made it all the way out here without a guard at your heels, you might as well get something out of it.”
Emeline sniffed, then settled in the chair with a pout on her lips.
“So, this is-” Llyr tried again.
“Princess,” interjected Lochlann with a stern gaze at him.
“And what do they call you then?” asked Emeline with a sarcastic smile. “Shit eater?”
“That tongue of your’s… hasn’t changed, I hear…” Lochlann shook his head and knocked back what remained of his drink.
“Weren’t you going to get wine?” Emeline looked at Llyr. “I’m thirsty and I won’t be drinking this swill, I guarantee you that.”
Llyr hesitated. The stark contrast from how Emeline had spoken with him on their walk to the bank, and now, took him by surprise.
Lochlann stood and said, “I’ll get the princess her most desired wine.”
“Don’t you spit in it! I’ll know if you do,” she warned.
“This is such a fine turn of the evening,” said Madam Miller. The old lady glanced toward Snorri who smirked behind his smoking pipe.
Llyr returned to his chair. He took a quick drag of his cigarette, revitalizing the ember, then he waved for Miller and Snorri to keep seated. After one more drag, he blew the smoke to the side and then gestured in a casual wave with his cigarette toward Emeline.
“Princess, if you don’t mind me calling you that?” The wealthy girl shrugged. He continued. “Princess here spends most of her time in the Citadel. Specifically, the Pillar. We met earlier this morning. I thought maybe… she might make a good addition to our team.”
Miller glanced over the younger girl with an appraising eye. “Did you now? I wonder why…”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Emeline. She curled her upper lip in response to the older woman’s appraisal. “Do you honestly think I would? Ew. Get your mind out of the gutter from where you were born, old hag.”
“Excuse me?!” Miller, despite her older age, looked about ready to launch a hand across the far younger and frailer girl beside her.
“Now, wait a moment,” said Llyr. He nervously waved to try and distract the attention of the two females. “That’s no way to talk to Madam Miller. I don’t care who you are, I won’t have it.”
Emeline snorted. She stood to leave, only to run into Lochlann who’d returned with a goblet of wine and a bottle to match. The wine sloshed out of the goblet and onto the front of Lochlann’s tunic. It stained deep red over the beige cotton and criss-crossed leather straps.
“Fucking ‘ell, Princess!” Lochlann bellowed. “Watch where yer going!”
“Why don’t you?” She retorted. She flicked her finger out in a rude gesture, then she swiped the goblet out of his hand. “Give me that.”
Llyr looked at Miller and he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
Miller waved a hand at him. She leaned in and said, “I can tell what you were thinking. Doesn’t mean it can’t still work.” The older woman cleared her throat, then said, “You two are making a scene. Both of you stop acting like animals, sit down, and drink nicely like good people do.”
Emeline stuck her tongue out, then slumped in the seat she’d just gotten up from. She placed the goblet against her lips and started a slow drawn-out sip of what wine remained in the cup.
Lochlann returned to his seat, poured himself another drink, then knocked it back in one go.
“You were saying, Llywelyn?” offered Miller with a tilt of her glass toward him.
“I was?” He blinked, then nodded and said, “Right. Yes. Introductions first. This is Madam Miller, her associate, Mister Sn.. St.. Steingrímir?”
The bearded man nodded then mentioned, “Go ‘head and call me Snorri.”
“And it appears that Lochlann already knows you, Emeline.”
“Unfortunately,” said the girl.
Lochlann snorted. He looked aside to watch the dancers in the main space of the tavern.
Llyr glanced between the four that surrounded the round table in front of him. He folded his hands in front of him, tapped a palm against the surface, then said, “Maybe you have some trouble with each other, or maybe you get along just fine, but…”
“...you four are who I want to help settle my business in this city. Now, Lochlann’s already agreed and Madam Miller, your requests will be met so therefore, Mist- Snorri, that is, you’re more than welcome to make your place and we can discuss what that might be. Emeline, I invited you here because I’d like to offer you a position as liaison with those located in the Citadel.”
“Liaison? For what exactly?” she asked and her eyes narrowed while she looked at him.
“That remains to be determined. It will vary a great deal at the start, and you will be free to decline anything that you do see fit to handle,” explained Llyr. He leaned over and gestured to the older woman across from him. “Madam Miller, you will manage that which goes to Emeline… or to Lochlann. Because Lochlann, as soon as my colleague from the south arrives, I need you to attend to different tasks than you have been.”
“Good,” muttered Lochlann. “I’m getting bored having to listen to all these gossip sorts.”
Madam Miller smiled and said, “Snorri could do that, if you didn’t want to wait. He’s wonderful at listening.”
“Is that so?” Llyr hummed, then he nodded. “Very well. Snorri, would you take on news collection within the city so that Lochlann might attend to… other tasks.”
“Can do, boss,” said Snorri with slight jest. He winked.
Llyr shrugged. He tapped the ashes of his cigarette into his empty glass. “I plan to have the location secured within the next several trials. As soon as it is, Madam Miller, we will work to make it how you see fit as that will be where you spend most of your time.”
“First things, it should have a space for meetings so we aren’t flapping away in front of the whole neighborhood,” mentioned Miller. She glanced over at the nearest table where a man cleared his throat, actually got up, and walked away due to her blatant look at him.
“Right… thank you,” said Llyr.
“Hmm.” Emeline leaned aside in her chair, then said, “My parents would be furious if they knew I was sincerely considering this… such a lowly thing… I’ll do it! Unless I change my mind, then I won’t.”
“That’s acceptable, of course. Not that I want your parents to be upset with you,” added Llyr with a nervous laugh.
“You definitely don’t want the Holts upset with you,” said Lochlann.
Emeline scoffed. “Please. It’s not like they would cut off your loans and send you down river!”
Llyr paled slightly when she laughed and the three adults at the table looked at him with obvious concern. He shook his head, then said, “Emeline spends nearly all her time in the Citadel, already. It won’t seem odd if she’s there… if she hears things, or runs into people in the towers.”
“It’s true,” said the dark-haired wealthy girl. “I’m not even supposed to be here. My father and mother want me to spend all my trials in the Citadel. Speaking of which, I should return before my father finishes with his own meeting…” She sighed and finished her wine, then stood with a slight stumble.
“Lochlann,” said Llyr as he looked over at the also drunk Etzori. “Escort her back to the Citadel, please.”
“What?” His eyes widened.
“You wanted different tasks. Snorri’s taking on your old ones.” The biqaj leaned over and softened his voice somewhat. “Consider this your first one. Make sure she arrives back mostly unnoticed, but more importantly safe.”
“What about you?” asked the bruiser.
“I’ll be fine,” insisted Llyr. “I’m not a Citadel girl walking the outer perimeter streets at night.”
Lochlann begrudgingly nodded. He lifted, then grabbed his cloak. “Awright, girl. Let’s get you home then.”
“Ew, don’t you have any guards of better quality?” complained Emeline.
“Not yet. Maybe once we are profitable enough,” teased Llyr. He smiled and the expression seemed to relax her. At least there was that.
The Citadel girl and the Oh’Pee bruiser left the tavern together, with only a few glances their way.
Llyr looked over to Madam Miller and Snorri. “Sorry, that probably could have gone smoother. She hadn’t acted like that when I met her.”
“You’ll find that common for the upper crust in this city,” said Miller. “Put them in their fancy halls and they’ll be all smiles and charm, take them out of the walls and they’ll spit on everyone they meet just because they can't be bothered to outrightly kick or smack 'em. Lest they need something from ‘em, maybe.”
Llyr sighed, flicked the last of the cigarette to fizzle out in what little remained of liquor in his glass, then said, “I’m glad you decided to join the venture, Madam Miller. I'm sorry about the interruption. This is great, though. Now that you’re going to be in the shop, I can move on with some pending purchases, and you’ve likely saved some time by bringing Snorri in.”
“Now, Snorri, about taking on what Lochlann’s been doing for me. We’re going to transition it slow because you’ll need to acquaint yourself with either the same contacts or different ones in the same regards. What I’m thinking is…”
