For a moment, there was just the gravity of the day. Another nightfall spent planning escapes, another evening staring at the moon trying to find fifty different ways to stay three steps ahead, preferably four. The look it left on Rahse’s face was more dour than he perhaps meant, but it served well all the same; between his hands clasping in front of him, elbows on the table, and hood up, it was clear he didn’t want company.
But then there was Leena sitting down across from him, and he’d take a deep breath of relief the moment their eyes connected. And as if automatic, his hands would unclasp, one pushing his food to her, the other finding her non-dominant hand and lacing their fingers. And with that simple touch, he’d seem to melt, just for a moment, his body language changing head to toes to that of blessed gratitude.
”I will, I will.” Simply holding her fingers for a moment, he’d sit back up, straighter. Keeping his hood on, he’d pick at his hair beneath it, as if trying to look better for her and her alone. ”Just don’t have the stomach for fish at the moment, the docks were at low tide.” Truthfully, he hadn’t noticed during the conversation, but it really had been foul.
”We’ve been promised a crate and a blanket or two, the former marked for Caldur’s in Antiva City. The rest is up to us. As for the captain himself…” Shrugging softly, Rahse would hum quietly, his lips flattening in consideration for a moment, forming his sentence carefully. ”... well, he’s a businessman, certainly. Happy to take our coin, but I would hazard just as happy to take someone else’s as well. We shouldn’t rely on him if we can help it.” The din of the tavern rose slightly as the sound of lute tuning cut through softly, apparent but sweet. Glancing off to the side, Rahse would idly identify its source, a woman sat atop a crate, a minstrel of some caliber or another, getting ready to ply her trade and-
… he would squint, eyes locking to the woman’s face before darting back toward Leena’s. His gaze would repeat the process twice more before settling back down on the table, keeping the other woman in his periphery. Releasing Leena’s hand, his own would find its way under the table, thumbing the hilt of his shortsword, adjusting its angle just a bit.
”Darling, when I say so, we need to get up and laugh softly and make our way toward the rear entrance. Act as if I’ve said something alluring, and we’re off on a tryst.” Glancing in the direction of the luteist, he would include the slightest of nods, trying to direct Leena’s eyes.
”They’ve sent someone to double as you.” A bold strategy for a woman with a little social stature as a kitchen maid. How many Kintargans would spread word of a lowly commoner killed in some bar fight? Most would presume it was about money, or kids, or worse.
But to cover up a kidnapping, to put any witnesses at ease and dispute claims of screaming and bleeding and struggle in the street as she was thrown into a cart and bound… still more trouble than a double might be worth in gold, but they had no doubt wounded the lord’s pride. There was no telling what sick narrative he’d landed on in all the aftermath.
”Ready?”
@Leena Craynore
@Siora Craynore
But then there was Leena sitting down across from him, and he’d take a deep breath of relief the moment their eyes connected. And as if automatic, his hands would unclasp, one pushing his food to her, the other finding her non-dominant hand and lacing their fingers. And with that simple touch, he’d seem to melt, just for a moment, his body language changing head to toes to that of blessed gratitude.
”I will, I will.” Simply holding her fingers for a moment, he’d sit back up, straighter. Keeping his hood on, he’d pick at his hair beneath it, as if trying to look better for her and her alone. ”Just don’t have the stomach for fish at the moment, the docks were at low tide.” Truthfully, he hadn’t noticed during the conversation, but it really had been foul.
”We’ve been promised a crate and a blanket or two, the former marked for Caldur’s in Antiva City. The rest is up to us. As for the captain himself…” Shrugging softly, Rahse would hum quietly, his lips flattening in consideration for a moment, forming his sentence carefully. ”... well, he’s a businessman, certainly. Happy to take our coin, but I would hazard just as happy to take someone else’s as well. We shouldn’t rely on him if we can help it.” The din of the tavern rose slightly as the sound of lute tuning cut through softly, apparent but sweet. Glancing off to the side, Rahse would idly identify its source, a woman sat atop a crate, a minstrel of some caliber or another, getting ready to ply her trade and-
… he would squint, eyes locking to the woman’s face before darting back toward Leena’s. His gaze would repeat the process twice more before settling back down on the table, keeping the other woman in his periphery. Releasing Leena’s hand, his own would find its way under the table, thumbing the hilt of his shortsword, adjusting its angle just a bit.
”Darling, when I say so, we need to get up and laugh softly and make our way toward the rear entrance. Act as if I’ve said something alluring, and we’re off on a tryst.” Glancing in the direction of the luteist, he would include the slightest of nods, trying to direct Leena’s eyes.
”They’ve sent someone to double as you.” A bold strategy for a woman with a little social stature as a kitchen maid. How many Kintargans would spread word of a lowly commoner killed in some bar fight? Most would presume it was about money, or kids, or worse.
But to cover up a kidnapping, to put any witnesses at ease and dispute claims of screaming and bleeding and struggle in the street as she was thrown into a cart and bound… still more trouble than a double might be worth in gold, but they had no doubt wounded the lord’s pride. There was no telling what sick narrative he’d landed on in all the aftermath.
”Ready?”
@Leena Craynore
@Siora Craynore
Yesterday, 12:46 AM
