BLOOD RED HARMONY
Every good lie contains a portion of the truth.
***
Her dagger was stained red on the tip. It was a lite slash, just piercing the broken noble's skin. Certainly, he would endure. His spirit, however, was slain in an instant, clearly evident as he cowered in the corner of the room, staring down at the cut on his arm with a crazed look in his eye.
"Your wears," Bryn stated coldly, the words coming dryly from her mouth. "Where are they?"
But the noble simply stared as if he hadn't even heard her.
Growing impatient, Bryn twirled her dagger and stepped forward, prompting the man to hug the wall behind him, arms spread apart. And a deranged smile creeped onto his face. He broke into laughter.
Bryn stopped and narrowed her gaze, as he continued his cackle of madness, seemingly unable to let up.
"And those bastards say I only produce worthless frivolities," he exclaimed to a very puzzled Bryn. She counted herself lucky this room was so isolated.
"And yet, proof of their value now stands here before me. The mark of a true magnate!"
Bryn took another step forward.
The noble blinked, and then proceeded to clear his throat. "My jewelry…" he began, more sane-sounding now, "lies in the drawer just below the windowsill."
Bryn slowly backed up with her dagger raised forward, before eventually lowering it to look through said drawer. An unfinished amulet with the gemstone missing, two unpolished and sloppily cut chunks of murky quartz, and a few cheap copper rings were all she found. Bryn pocketed them nevertheless, and as she did so, caught a glimpse of the noble eyeing the rapier she had flung from his hand. "Don't lay a finger on that," Bryn spat, "or you won't have a hand left to hold it with."
"Oh, you're spilling threats far too hastily!" he responded, snapping his eyes away.
"I suggest you tell me where the rest of your work is."
"I'm sorry to say, there's none left to share. It's all with my clients now, but worry not," the noble responded, almost casually. "My best assets to offer are actually in there," he said, gesturing towards his wardrobe. As Bryn began to walk towards it, he continued triumphantly. "None in the house of Deltas can claim a wardrobe superior to my own."
And sure enough, upon opening the wardrobe Bryn had unearthed the most expansive collection of suits, dresses, trousers, skirts, hats, and coats she had ever seen. This bastard.
"You're lying to me, Edwin" Bryn asserted, turning to face him.
"How could that be? I believe my collection speaks for–"
"About your damn jewelry," she snapped as she dashed up to his corner, dagger in hand, and shoved Edwin against the wall. "I think you've got plenty left to give," she said, glancing at an emerald ring she had noticed around his finger.
Color rapidly his face.
"Take it off," Bryn demanded, raising her dagger.
"No–"
"Take it off!"
He clawed at the ring, desperately trying to yank it up his index finger. "I can't take it off!" Edwin shouted. The sound was almost deafening.
The room stood still, but adrenaline pounded. Images raced through Bryn's mind. What would Lowell do?
He took the noble's hand and pinned it to the wall. He told him to close his eyes and clench his fingers. He held his index finger in place. He raised his knife. He–
No. Bryn released Edwin. After taking a step back, she sheathed her dagger, too.
Edwin simply stared back, wide eyed.
Slowly, Bryn began to speak. "You and I both know that I can't hurt you."
"Is… is that so?" Edwin mumbled.
Bryn shook her head dismissively. "If the news came out that a thief assaulted and killed a nobleman… there would be blood. It's suicidal."
Edwin did not relax, clearly still suspicious, but he at least seemed willing to talk.
"What I'm getting at is that I need you to work with me. Because I'm sure you also understand that I can't leave here without something valuable. Very valuable."
Edwin buried his face in one of his arms and entered a hysterical fit, simultaneously on the verge of crying and laughter. "Work with you… you'll kill me! You'll get the information you need and you'll kill me."
Bryn walked over to the rapier strewn on the ground. She picked it up. Holding it set across both hands, she approached the insane noble and held it out to him.
For a brief moment, Edwin's breath paused. He put his arm down and stared at Bryn, then at his weapon, and then back at Bryn. He took it.
Bryn quickly backpedaled once he did so. "Now, speak. Tell me what you have."
Edwin lowered his head, and gulped. "Please believe me when I say this is the honest truth, plainly and simply. The blue garment bag in my wardrobe…"
Bryn scoffed.
"Please listen to me! It contains a dress, woven with very fine wools and imported silk, and styled with rich dyes. It would sell for hundreds of lavendres, I am certain of it."
That's clever of you. The average thief would be rather inept at verifying such claims. She marched over to the open wardrobe and reached into the blue garment bag tucked inside, ready to unveil the noble's lies. What she was not prepared for, however, was to find such a garish, but clearly well crafted dress. It was styled with blue pigment – not a common sight – and the material felt almost unnaturally sleek and soft. By her estimate, this was a very expensive garment.
Bryn looked back at Edwin, now less uncertain of her decision to be merciful. Clearly, it had earned her at least a small bit of trust. Bryn took the garment bag, slightly awkward as it was to lug, and approached the window. Sneaking through the mansion's interior was off the table now that she had made her presence known. An escape was needed. She reached for a large tome on the noble's desk, and–
A floorboard behind her creaked. Bryn instinctively jolted to her right, just barely missing Edwin's rapier as he thrusted forward and yelled, cracking straight through the glass. Without hesitation, he swung his weapon around and dashed towards Bryn, the refined poise of a nobleman now abandoned. The window shattered.
He made another jab, and Bryn threw herself backwards against the door behind her to avoid it. She tried to scramble out of the corner, but she was left off balance, and the noble's next strike came first.
It just barely missed her, but she was on borrowed time. Screw it. In a flash, she whipped out her dagger from its sheath before whipping around and swiping in an arc front of her. Edwin simply backed up, but the attack bought Bryn enough space to steady herself.
This time, she was the one to dash forward, but was caught off guard when Edwin made a sudden slash of his own. His rapier wasn't suited to it, but the surprise forced Bryn to quickly raise her small dagger to deflect the attack. It went flying, the force flinging it from her hand.
With a curse, Bryn retreated. Edwin swung wildly, fearless now that Bryn had lost her weapon. She backed up to the wall again and reached around the shelf to her left, her hands finding a vase. Without thinking twice, she threw it forward. Edwin raised his rapier, but ceramic shards still smashed into him, leaving him staggered. Bryn used the moment to run forward and reach for his rapier.
Edwin gripped his weapon, pushing Bryn to the side towards the desk while she continued to cling on. Suddenly, Bryn released her grip and shoved Edwin backward, before quickly grabbing the tome on the desk beside her and slamming it into the noble before he could react.
The impact knocked the strength out of him, and Edwin fell to the ground. Bryn stood over him. Before he could get up, she raised the tome with both hands, and, with as much force as she could muster, slammed down.
The noble stopped moving.
An air of finality filled the room. Bryn stood in disbelief, and then cursed under her panicked, stuttered breaths. Please. She reached for his arm, and huffed out a sigh of relief upon feeling his pulse.
It was only a few moments before he began to stir again, though he was in no condition to even struggle.
"I… I gave you mercy…" Bryn stammered. "Why didn't you take it?"
Edwin only looked up, took a gulp, and spat.
O N E
"You really didn't think this through, didja?" Lowell spoke in an accusatory tone, his disappointment palpable. "Doesn't matter how valuable you claim the thing to be if there's no way to offload it. The motherland isn't gonna accept your fashion statement."
"I could pawn it off to someone over here," Bryn said with a gulp.
"Where? You think the people in Lisburo are just gonna… buy it off of some nobody? Someone who looks like they can't afford it?"
Bryn was silent.
"And even if the stars aligned and you pulled that off, I don't think the motherland would be too pleased if you shipped them some foreign currency, either. You'd have to… agh. This isn't what we need right now, Bryn."
Bryn kept her lips sealed, and looked down on the dress. She was a bit aggravated, but suspected Lowell was right. The thing was far too extravagant for someone like her to make use of. That Edwin even made a dress was quite out of the ordinary in and of itself, since, as Bryn understood, most artisan nobility preferred to distance themselves from such frivolities. Something like this was not meant for the hands of a privateer. And yet, here it was. Now the more pressing matter was how she was going to get rid of it.
Lowell sighed, regaining his composure. "Maybe you could… I dunno, pawn it off to some fool merchant."
"I think we've run out of fools… that aren't here in The Reliance, at least."
"Heh." Lowell leaned back in his chair. "Well I think myself more of a dashing rogue, barely defying the odds, but I suppose you can suit yourself."
Bryn eyed the gold clock sitting on his desk. Some odds, eh? He was mighty lucky, given the circumstances. Meiltol was a demanding motherland. In writing, it was considered a great honor to serve as a privateer, as they were, but the reality was anything but. No one would leave everything behind to risk their life in some far flung land unless they had to. At least, almost no one.
"Quit with that pissed off look, could ya?" Lowell asked. "I can see that knife of yours, you know, and I'm starting to get worried I'll be next. What didja check his stomach for jewelry or something, just to be sure?"
Bryn looked down at her dagger, realizing it was still stained. "I didn't kill him," she said as she stood and set the blade aside to wipe it down.
"...What's got you so worried, Bryn? Do you know what our job is?"
Bryn's malaise melted away as she stopped stared down Lowell. "I don't kill."
"So, you're a dangerous privateer on a dangerous job with a dangerous… eh, blood stained knife. But you're not a murderer."
"I'm not an idiot," Bryn stated flatly.
It took Lowell took a moment to consider what she had implied. "Ah. That's not a bad idea you've got there! You could ring him for a fortune if you keep going back."
Bryn broke eye contact. Not exactly what I had in mind. If the estate's guards didn't kill her, having to look Edwin in the eyes again just might. She kept the thought to herself.
Lowell's brief moment of enthusiasm left him with a sigh. "I'll be square with you Bryn. I've been thinking about cutting you. Our buddy in Meiltol has been knocking us, looking at the logs these past few weeks. But I think you might've snagged something much more valuable than what you brought home tonight. I tell ya, if you keep at it with this Edwin, you could make up for your losses."
"Our losses."
Lowell sighed again, and rubbed his face. Then, slowly, he stood up and began walking towards the balcony. "Couldja come out here?"
Bryn obliged. The view wasn't remarkably sweeping or complete, but it was as good as it got. This was one of the only buildings in The Reliance that stood tall with multiple stories. The rest of the hideout wasn't as lucky. There was a potential for a thriving town, given it sat just between the sea and its ports, and the interior cities. But it sat amidst a mountainous region that most roads curved around, resulting in an isolated and underdeveloped swath of land, and now, the perfect location for a privateering hideout.
They stood for a long while, just looking out, before Lowell broke the silence. "How many of us do you think are lurkin' out here?" he posed.
The shanty town appeared very still, but she knew there were plenty more privateers, like her, just hiding. Nobody wanted private mercenaries or the Federal Guard or whoever else searching the place. This job was dangerous as is.
"...A lot," Bryn absentmindedly answered.
"A lot. Yeah. But, you've obviously seen you're not the only one havin' a hard time. Right?"
Bryn nodded.
"Well. That's sorta why I'm giving you a hard time."
Bryn considered this. "I'm not special, Lowell. Why turn to me?"
"Nobody here's special. It's a kinda stupid word. But you gotta admit your circumstances were… a little different."
"What difference does it make?"
"I dunno, Bryn. As big a difference as you want it to make, I guess," Lowell conceded. "I just wanted to think that maybe… you grew more capable than some of the others here. Not tryin' ta get too sentimental, but I really did give you my all, you know. You're not special, sure, but I feel like you've gained something special. And the bottom line is, I can only keep the old contractor away for so long before someone's gotta get dropped. So, I'm asking you to do… something. Whatever it is you've got to do. You hear me?"
Bryn looked at Lowell and then back at the dress again, paused for a moment, and then nodded. "I will."
~
Well, there's really only one thing to do with a dress, right? It felt a bit silly to try on, and a bit awkward to move in for that matter, but after a little her instincts returned. She wouldn't dare be seen in The Reliance like this, but she couldn't pretend it was exactly foreign to her, either. The reflection staring back at her from the cracked mirror in her hand was definitely different now, but it wasn't too hard on the eyes. Come to think of it, she would probably be the first and last privateer who actually knew how to properly outfit themselves. Save for Lowell, if she was feeling generous.
But a stubborn frown had formed on her face. I wanted things to be different now.
It was impossible to push the memories from her mind, but Lowell's threat spoke just as loud. Sometimes he could be overdramatic in an attempt to raise the performance of the crew, but Bryn could tell he had been genuine. He certainly had good reason to be. Paranoia in this city was growing, and it was plain to everyone that prospects were drying up. She looked out at this city from the high rooftop of the grand architecture on which she stood. Lisburo. It had become the lifeblood of The Reliance, being both affluent and nearby. The privateers sometimes joked that it was meant for them. Yet, all Bryn saw now were patrols walking the streets at night, merchandise taken from window displays, and oil lamps left burning even while their owners slept. She'd even caught wind of pressure on the city to insure stolen goods, which if successful, would prove disastrous. The high society was just about the only sector of the city that the privateers hadn't hit yet.
But perhaps it wasn't so much a hit that was needed as a warm, outstretched hand. Digging through her old memories, she thought about the power of perception that had been drilled into her. The image of a noble lady. If she could project that aura of importance, it would surely unlock some opportunity.
…I can never return to Meiltol. And so, she would step up. The crescent moon hung in the night sky, shrouded by fog. Bryn looked up at it as she took a deep breath, feeling the sting of her past life, and sighed.
I'll try.
~
Byrn closed her eyes and firmly planted her feet on the floor so as to stop pacing. My name is not Bryn. My name is not Bryn. My name is not Bryn. She tried to shift her attention back to the plan. It was simple: attend the party taking place in the estate a few blocks away that was to start in about a half hour. It was fancy, but far from the exception in Lisburo. Boundless mansions dedicated to the great houses were commonplace, as were huge swaths of markets filling the gaps between them. Her inn of choice was within viewing distance, but it was about as decrepit as they got in the city, seemingly to spite the excellent conditions surrounding it. Perhaps befitting of a thief.
She let out a heavy sigh and sat down on the bed, absentmindedly tapping her foot. I'm too nervous. She was certain the innkeeper saw right through her disguise when she walked in dressed as a noble, but he couldn't afford to be suspicious. Worriedly, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror again. It wasn't the young and blunt Bryn she had grown accustomed to, but it didn't have to be. It couldn't be.
My name is Adeline.
~
There was one thing that needed to be accomplished at the party: blending in. A cover would be necessary. Bryn hoped "Adeline" would sound as nice to the others as it did to her. It wouldn't be too infeasible to act out the life of a noble with the early life of one already under her belt, not that she'd been fond of being performative.
Her anxiety swelled as she approached the main entrance of the house where the party was just beginning, stopping for a moment before walking towards a great pair of double doors. Servants stood on either side, welcoming the crowd, but there were too many attendees entering at once to properly greet. So they paid her little mind, which she was thankful for, as she was not entirely certain of the custom. She weaved through and ahead of the crowd. Her instinct to flee from the inundation of people led her down a nearby wallway with no one in it yet. She took the moment of relative silence to glance around. I don't have to make anything happen today, she reminded herself, I just have to get my foot in the door and familiarize myself with…
She stopped that train of thought upon seeing just how lavish the house was decorated. Many tables stacked with ornate vases, fancy white sculptures of people and landmarks she didn't recognize, and small portraits. Those in particular caught her eye. It was not for their contents – she couldn't name a single person pictured – but rather their size. They were one of the few pocket sized items that could be easily snagged and concealed, at least from what little she had seen. I ought to check out at least some of this party before I go around stealing from it.
More and more party-goers slowly trickled past the entrance room. Bryn moved rather quickly, walking with purpose as she explored the estate. Perhaps not the most appropriate, Bryn realized as she slowed, correcting herself. Navigating the maze of hallways at such a leisurely pace felt slightly agonizing, but she did discover a quiet door tucked away in a deadend, leading to a library. Another door she peaked through to find a very busy kitchen. Both were empty, save for servants. Bryn reasoned that it would appear inappropriate to be entering any of these just yet, the biting presence of noble customs was slowly returning.
Eventually she stepped through a doorway into a comparatively massive dining hall. The contrast between the narrow, more secluded hallways and this massive open space was striking. The room was filled with dozens of circular tables, but devoid of any people. Slowly, she stepped in. Perhaps taking something from here would more likely go unnoticed. Anything that could be melted down for metal was a valuable target for privateers, and silverware was a common pick. The tables weren't set, however, and glancing towards the back side of the room revealed the kitchen, the same one she'd nearly entered earlier. This won't work. She dashed out the way she had come before one of the estate's servants could spot her, and with a sigh, rounded the corner.
To find a servant.
They both froze for a moment. He was short and stocky, but his features had a roundness to them. He wore a dark maroon suit and tie with a rose tucked in it, but there was no edge to his appearance. In fact, he looked slightly terrified.
"Er, may I help you, miss?" he asked tentatively.
He's right to be nervous, thought Bryn. Servants typically interacted little with the nobility. "I'm… well, I'm perfectly fine, thank you. I apologize, I just…" Her arrogance melted away into worry once she actually opened her mouth.
"There's no need to apologize, miss." He spoke quietly but his tone was reassuring. "Might I ask your name?"
She paused for a moment. "Adeline."
"Well, pardon my intrusion, Lady Adeline."
They both waited a moment after for the other to speak, but there was nothing more to be said. So the servant simply nodded, and went on his way into the dinning hall.
Once he did so, Bryn shut her eyes and exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose, before calming herself. He's only a servant. It would be quite a leap in logic for him to assume she was looking to steal, even with the clearly uncomfortable mannerisms she'd shown. More likely was that he simply thought her naive or lost.
And he'd be correct.
~
It was difficult to keep track of time wandering the estate, and Bryn was beginning to question whether she had circled back on herself. She tried to put as much distance as she could between her and the dining hall, but still feared she would round another corner to see that same servant again. Passing by more valuables again and again, she was starting to regret her inaction now that the halls were loud and full, but nevertheless, she continued to scout out the estate. Bryn kept underestimating its size, only to be taken for a loop upon stumbling into yet another common space or lounge.
She was searching for a way up to the second floor, in hope of finding an area with fewer eyes to catch her stealing. And in fact she discovered that all the halls led back to a wide stairway, the white steps gleaming with shining yellow detailing not too unlike gold. The steps themselves looked welcoming, but nobody stepped near them, nor did anyone descend. The pair of guards surrounding them were the reason why. This was a gate to a higher floor. From Bryn's experience, it was common to reserve sections for only higher nobility, but this building was massive. At least three or four stories. Was it really all reserved for the upper nobility? The guards looked imposing and unknowable hidden beneath their helmets, but they stood directly facing her as she stared at the stairway. She had her answer.
Plenty of time had elapsed for people to disperse. Bryn was deathly afraid to make conversation, worried that her days in The Reliance had eroded her ability to speak as gracefully as she once had. Most stood around chatting in the all so familiar cliques of three to five. Nobody stood alone, save for a few servants passing through the halls, and, of course, Bryn.
She hoped this job might feel a bit liberating, but it didn't. Bryn was finally at a party free from politicking, yet she couldn't feel more uncomfortable. This wasn't quite like Meiltol. The people looked more varied in profession and standing, and the fashion they wore was less standardized. Men and women frequently mixed together in the crowds. Most of all, they laughed and spoke over each other, seemingly having little concern for making a fool of themselves.
Probably because there's no concern to be had, Bryn reminded herself. It unnerved her how little she understood of these people. Acting out a role was hard enough on its own, but it seemed impossibly daunting now that she didn't even know the parts. Taking things slow seemed safer at first, but now she felt that every moment she spent here was another opportunity to be outed.
"If I may, miss…" The voice was a soft one.
At first Bryn was unsure if it had been addressed to her, but she felt a gaze on her, and turned around to find a servant. The servant, she realized as she reconnected the voice to the man in front of her.
"I do not wish to insinuate, of course, but perhaps you might consider a drink tonight?"
A drink? Bryn took care to keep her expression clean, but she was floored.
"I thank you, but… I think I'd best abstain tonight," she then said. Drinking at a party is like a captain drinking at the helm of a ship.
"Yes, miss, of course." He responded quickly, showing his nervousness. "Well, in that case, miss, might you care to be seated for dinner? It's a few minutes before the hour, but you may find it more pleasant to beat the crowd."
Am I that easy to read? Nevertheless, her response was adamant. "That would be wonderful."
He nodded. "This way then."
She began trailing shortly behind him, thankful for his direction back to the dinning hall. She had long lost her way in the sea of nobility.
After a minute, he spun around to face her but continued walking, effortlessly navigating backwards.
"Well, Lady Adeline, I wish to say that I hold no judgments against you."
Are servants capable of such a thing? She simply gulped and nodded without a word, worried she'd mispeak.
The servant then spun back around suddenly, and turned a corner into a room. The dining hall. He began to walk towards a row of small tables beside the wall, only two chairs each. That would be best, as it minimized the chances to sit with someone and therefore the opportunities for Bryn to make a fool of herself.
She allowed the servant to lead her to a table while she looked around the room once again. Does the entire attendance really all eat in here?
"Have a seat. You will be served in just a minute."
She finally looked back in front of her, and froze. The table was not empty. Her eyes began to frantically dart around the room as Bryn experienced a sudden urge to escape. But she was sitting there, looking right at her.
The noble sat up and closed her eyes. "Why, come over! Don't be shy."
I can't trust you. With a gulp, Bryn stepped forward towards her chair.
"It's not my intention to scare you," the noble began as rested her head in the palm of her hand, "but I do take care to ensure all of my guests enjoy themselves."
"I didn't mean to trouble you," Bryn stammered as she took her seat.
"No no," the noble insisted, lifted her head off her hand, "the fault lies with me. Please – I do not wish to worry you any more."
The concern in her voice is expertly done. Despite herself, Bryn couldn't help but ease into her seat a little. "Well. Thank you…" she trailed off before finally looking up. The woman in front of her was, by her judgment, very well dressed. She noticed a resemblance to the servant that had brought her over, as well as a matching rose tucked in. A connection to the house's servants is a bit unusual. A moment of panic followed the realization. "Please pardon me – do you… own this estate?" She instantly regretted her brazen phrasing once it had left her mouth.
"Oh, well not exactly" the noble answered with a smile before Bryn could shove in an apology. "My house owns it – Deltas." Her smile grew a little bit wider. "I do not mean to berate you, of course, but do you know who I am?"
Bryn froze, slightly flushed. "I, well…" She scolded herself internally, but something had to be said. "I suppose I don't."
"You suppose?" the noble teased, almost giggling.
Bryn inhaled suddenly.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" the noble backpedaled. "I'm only teasing, you need not worry." She closed her eyes. "It seems you've done enough of that already."
"Ah, it's nothing," Bryn reassured with a nervous smile. I shouldn't be getting involved with this person. There was a warmness to the way the noblewomen spoke, but it only raised the tension. This was not the sort of atmosphere Bryn had been expecting, everything was so loose. Too loose.
"The cuisine is soon to be ready. That should provide something to occupy your little head with," the noble said as she leaned back in her chair, "and something to talk over. I suspect that you may not be inclined to talk too much about yourself, so perhaps it would be easier to ask a little about me."
"I would appreciate that. Well, how about your name?"
The noble sat up. "Ah, please forgive me! An introduction is so often unneeded that I neglected to remember one. My name is Lydia Deltas."
"Why does everybody know it except me? …Who are you exactly, if you don't mind me asking" Bryn said,
looking away.
"Oh, not at all. It's just, I tend to slip into the spotlight, being the house's next successor in line. Not to mention, I'm far less, you could say, secluded than the current head… so I suppose I draw plenty of eyes. But I don't wish to appear arrogant or gloat about my position, I'd be a fool to. It can be a rather burdensome role to play."
"I understand the struggle," remarked Bryn, nodding deeply.
"Why, does Lady Adeline have something that makes her famous, too?" she asked playfully.
"Well, I–" Wait, what?
"What is it?" Lydia asked, seeing Bryn's distress.
"When… did I tell you my name?"
"Ah, you glared at me like I was a psychic! It's just little Hazelnut over there – he keeps me informed," she explained, gesturing towards the kitchen. Sure enough, the same servant was on his way back with a small platter in each hand. "He's a little charmer. Maybe not the boldest, but he can't help but to win people over."
He slowed his pace as he approached the table, failing to suppress a beaming smile. "You are served," he said lightly as he slowly lowered each platter to the table one at a time and then unveiled them.
"Why thank you, little man!"
"Of course… though, you do always give me the most ambiguous comments" he added. "What do you mean by that?"
"Aw, you know I've got to, Hazel! Otherwise Lady Adeline would feel all singled out."
He looked at Bryn and let out an embarrassed sigh, placing his hand in his face, covering a smile. "Enjoy your dinner," he said before he put his hand up as if to wave himself away, and then left.
I guess she teases everyone like this. Thankfully, her plate wasn't out of her palette at all as soft shell lobster was common in Meiltol. The same ocean rests between the two kingdoms, afterall. It was an odd choice for such an occasion, but Bryn found the familiarity comforting. It brought her mind back to what she was good at: thievery. The night's other stresses had nearly pushed it from her mind. The table was certainly set now, even the two vacant seats on the table's sides. If she had a spare moment, nabbing a roll of silverware would be a good bet.
"Well," Lydia began, stressing the word slowly, "you must like it if I haven't heard a peep from you."
"Um. Yes." The words came out slightly choppy. It was awkward to snap back into conversation with the very person she was just planning to steal from.
"I'm glad to hear it, though I had hoped I'd be able to see you a little more at ease."
Bryn let out a deep breath. "There's just a lot on my mind is all." Not the least of which was whether or not this noble would be able to see through her.
"Mm. Well, know that I'm… here, if you wish to get anything off your chest."
…You'd kill me. The truth was too heavy to ignore. I can't trust you, Bryn repeated to herself. She shifted in her seat and took another bite of food.
Suddenly, a huge low boom sounded from above, making Bryn jump.
"Didja get startled?" Lydia asked with a laugh.
But Bryn was on edge. "What is that?"
The sound sustained. Then it came again, this time a little higher. A third followed, and then gave way to an avalanche of rich sound. Many more instruments entered the fray as what Bryn now realized was music came to life.
"There's nothing to worry about, it's only the band… Are you alright?"
Bryn exhaled and relaxed her shoulders. "Yes… please, excuse my–"
"–Oh, it's nothing. In fact, I would like to apologize to you. I should have warned you, they play at the end of the hour to mark the beginning of dinner."
The bulk of the orchestra sounded completely foreign to Bryn. The music was faster. Swingy. Even the music here is loose.
The room around them grew more chaotic. More and more servants had begun to file through the arrangement of tables, and the mass movement of the party goers could be heard, their entrance imminent.
Bryn looked at Lydia for reassurance, and was surprised to see a nervousness that mirrored her own as Lydia shifted in her seat with her eyes shut. Bryn's instincts suddenly snapped into action, as she quickly grabbed her utensils and wrapped them in the napkin in her lap, before stuffing them in the pocket. A moment later, Lydia opened her eyes and the crowds already began to trickle in. Bryn tried to ignore them, but she was certain there were already a lot of eyes on them. They were the only ones seated in the whole room.
Lydia suddenly pushed her chair out and stood up. "It was a pleasure to meet you, lady Adeline," she began. "Unfortunately, I have some business I must attend to. I am very sorry." Her voice was free of it's prior care and concern.
"That's… I understand," Bryn said, carefully masking her reaction. Just like that?
Lydia reached down and pulled out a small envelope, handing it to Bryn.
"It's already addressed to my personal estate," Lydia explained. "Write to me sometime." She closed her eyes once more and took another annoyed sounding breath. "Goodbye, Adeline." She turned away, before glancing over her shoulder and briefing looking Bryn in the eye. She leaned forward, and spoke a bit more hushed. "Do make sure you write to me." And then she was off before Bryn could stammer out a goodbye, her dinner on the table still very much unfinished.
Bryn sat and side eyed her, trying to look apathetic. Lydia headed straight to another group, and they found a table, but they didn't exactly appear enthused. Clearly, they weren't together for companionship. Perhaps Lisburo wasn't entirely free from party politicking.
Suddenly realizing she was isolated in the center of what was becoming a very crowded room, Bryn too stood up and made for the exit, her speed tampered only by her fear of looking nervous. It would really be best to distance myself from her, as she did to me. Lydia's sudden departure seemed rather uncharacteristic. Her true colors. I must've been right about her.
Bryn strived to never take much of a liking to a partygoer, but even so, that conclusion didn't sit well. Bryn awkwardly moved against the influx of people entering the dining room, eventually squeezing through the side of a very crowded doorway.
…I did enjoy talking to her. It was difficult to reconcile. Even knowing all their interactions had been fake, she couldn't help but feel a sudden isolation now that she was gone. Bryn continued to walk through the now vacant hallways of the estate. Truly everyone was at dinner, and while she could hear the muffled chattering, her path was eerily quiet. Out of habit, she reached into her pocket to feel for the silverware. It was there.
But I don't really have what I came for, Bryn thought. I need to fit in. If she remained so alone, it would compromise future endeavors, without a doubt. Already her strange behavior had drawn someone's attention.
She stopped walking and held up the envelope Lydia had given her. Indeed, it was already addressed. She couldn't have written it during the party, leading Bryn to wonder if she kept many of these envelopes on hand to weasel out of conversation. All the more proof that I'm disposable to her. She could only pretend to show concern for all of about ten minutes before promptly abandoning her. Bryn couldn't say she had ever meant a high noble she truly trusted. Lydia is no different, she decided.
Still, as she neared the entrance, Bryn considered what she got out of this job, and more prominently, what she did not get. A connection. Well, I might be holding one in my hand. She opened the envelope and inside found a folded letter, except… Bryn blinked.
There was a note on the front.
I want you to know that I will be at the Glasshouse tomorrow at noon. It is my hope that you would like to be there, too.
author's note
i wrote something!!!!! as par usual, this project has proven 10x harder than i anticipated. i do really love storytelling, but i've pretty much never done it. this one chapter took me 10 months to write. that's pretty crazy, and part of what has made this project so difficult. when progress is that slow, i tend to lay a out of blame on myself... it's hard not to feel embarrassed when i'm working so pathetically slowly, especially when i know a big part of that is from laziness. but, a lot of that is from inexperience too, and the one thing i am proud of is that i didn't just give up, as i was very often tempted to. in fact, during this last month or so, i have actually started to... kind of enjoy writing?? it's been nice. however.... i really want a break from this story, so i'm going to take one. but i have found myself daydreaming about this story a lot... i'mif you have any feedback to give, please please please contact me!!!!! i have much to learn so it's something i really need to hear.
NonGMOTrash
august 2nd, 2024
(last modified: august 3rd, 2024)