Ah, yes. Especially if she found out how you ruined my reputation. I'm certain your father never told her that bit.She snorted; her in-laws seemed to think their hasty wedding was out of affection, out of love. Not a trap laid by one, to ensure there were no other choices. It'd been amusing to learn her spouse had been just as devious as she; and had drawn her in further, if she was being honest.
After letting her wife pleasure her, she feigned sleep. The plan had been to feign sleep long enough to ensure Kaczor wouldn't wake up... and after a half-hour of laying in bed, half-asleep, she felt the other side of the mattress lighten.
She stayed put, another ten minutes. Perhaps her wife was going to the bathroom, or to check the child... or a midnight snack? But it became apparant, quite quickly, that her wife was not returning.
Ella cursed under her breath, as she slipped out of bed to dress. A glance at the clock confirmed that in fifteen minutes, the 'sitter' that looked after Sarianne would arrive. He'd been good to her, even though she'd been the reason his family was uprooted. She was also the reason they were back where they belonged; under guise.
Army uniform, sword-cane in one hand. She straightened in the mirror to study herself. Wherever her wife was going, was not her problem tonight. She had promised her time to another cause; and would have to investigate her wife later.
Out on the street, she blended into the shadows as she made her way through winding darkness. The child was with the servants, and a fugitive, but she would be safe nonetheless. They'd bring her to the meeting, just on the off-chance anything happened at the house. They'd follow behind, slower.
More careful than a woman prowling the night like she owned it. She looked like she belonged, and none of the other military-clad people stopped her.
The meetings happened underground; an old manor in a middling neighborhood had underground tunnels that were still intact. They were part of the resistance, and as long as you were with someone they knew or you had the password of the week, they'd let you in to take to the tunnels like rats in a maze.
Novella was thankful once she arrived in the tunnels, to the underground. Cellars and basements linked in, some blocked off and boarded up. Others, open and inviting. People filtered in through a variety of points; some of them even from a late-night store on the corner of the neighborhood she lived in. But she never went to the same entry-point.
They converged in a large cellar owned by a wine-shop; filled with wines of varying ages, but owned by someone with minor magics to their name. They mingled, for a while. It was like a party, a forbidden speakeasy.
She changed into a second set of clothes, provided by the wine salespersons youngest daughter. Simple clothing, but she looked less frightening when not in military garb. But it was not the quality of fabric her wife insisted upon. Tucked her military uniform into a bag, before re-entering the party, drink in hand.
04-28-2024, 03:22 PM
