Luciano strutted down the cobblestone streets of Antiva City, his heels clicking with precision as his eyes scanned the various shop windows. The vibrant market district bustled around him, but he barely noticed. After the devastating loss of his mother, father, and butler, he’d decided that only one thing could offer some respite—fashion.
His sharp eyes lit up as he caught sight of a boutique showcasing the latest Antivan designs. The colors, the fabrics—oh, he could already see himself in them. Inside, he drifted between racks of luxurious dresses, feeling the smooth silks and decadent velvets slip through his fingers. Bold reds, soft pastels, intricate patterns—it was everything he needed to distract himself.
Focus, Luciano, he muttered, eyeing a particularly daring piece. You need something showstopping.
He was so absorbed in examining the trends that the world around him faded away. Unbeknownst to him, the streets were alive with much more than just the bustle of Antivan society, but Luciano, lost in a whirlwind of ruffles and lace, remained blissfully unaware.
You could take the crow out of the guild but never the crow out of the person. She was, at the least for now, just a bartender, a worker of the Lux with a set of y skills that went beyond serving cocktails but theorically just a bartender nevertheless.
But old habits die hard and despite of what she wanted she was always aware of her surroundings. The death of Arissa had only exacerbated that old habit so of course, she noticed the dagger before the victim.
The pattern was clear, the kid was being followed and she caught glimpses of silver in the swirling of the cape. Maika saw him so young that she acted by instinct, pulling him by the arm into the nearest shop.
After acting by instinct she realized whose arm she had pulled “Shit” she muttered under her breath “I am sorry but you were being followed by someone well armed” she said in a low tone only for him to hear. "Shouldn't you have a body guard from all people?"
Luciano blinked, his grip tightening instinctively on a velvet jacket he’d been admiring. The sudden tug and whispered warning sent his heart racing as he turned to face the woman who had just yanked him into the shop. His wide eyes quickly narrowed, his fear replaced by indignation.
Well, this is certainly not the customer service I was expecting, he said, his voice sharp yet elegant, though a nervous edge crept into his tone. But followed? Armed? Darling, you must be mistaken. Who in Thedas would dare to follow *me* of all people? He straightened his posture, a practiced air of defiance slipping into his expression.
Her words sank in as he noticed the seriousness etched into her face. Luciano’s confidence wavered slightly. Bodyguard? Oh, sweetie, I wouldn’t be caught dead with one of those hulking brutes trailing after me. They clash with my aesthetic. He waved his hand dismissively but then paused, his mind racing.
Alright, assuming you're right—and that someone *is* following me—what do you suggest we do? Because if this gets blood on my outfit, so help me, Andraste herself won’t hear the end of it. He glanced toward the shop window, his sharp instincts now piqued. Though he’d never admit it aloud, the warning had sent a shiver of unease down his spine.
“Well considering that I might be saving your life I think you should be bitching less” she said with a frown. Usually she had a soft spot for younger people but he was getting on her nerves. “See that man with the hood? The one that is actually heading towards here? He has a dagger under the cloak so yes, a bodyguard would be neat right now” she said looking around.
They were in a hat shop, the seller was in a corner, writing on a little book and there weren’t other customers so far. There weren’t places to hide nor another exit to leave. The cloaked man, was now at the door, a glimpse of a grin under the hood.
“Stay behind me and don’t move” the brunette said as she placed her body in front of Luciano’s.
Luciano opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it, his sharp tongue momentarily stilled as he followed her gaze. His eyes widened when he spotted the hooded figure approaching. The glint of a dagger was unmistakable now, even to him.
Alright, point taken, he murmured, his voice lower but still tinged with indignation. But if you think I’m going to cower like some damsel in distress, you’ve got another thing coming. This outfit cost more than your monthly rent.
Still, he obeyed, slipping behind the brunette with surprising agility for someone wearing designer boots. His pulse raced, though he managed to keep his composure intact—or at least, as intact as it could be while he clutched the velvet jacket like it was a shield.
The hooded man pushed the door open, the bell jingling ominously as he stepped inside. His movements were deliberate, predatory, as he scanned the shop. Luciano peeked out from behind his protector, his eyes narrowing.
Oh, wonderful. He’s got the whole brooding assassin vibe going on, he whispered sarcastically. And here I thought Antiva was supposed to be *classy.*
His bravado was a thin veneer, masking the growing panic beneath. As much as he hated to admit it, he was glad someone competent seemed to be in charge of the situation. Still, he couldn’t resist adding, If we get out of this alive, remind me to teach you about proper introductions. Or at least how to compliment someone’s outfit under duress.
“You are right, you shouldn’t cower” she said as a plan formed in her mind. They had already been spotted, there was no point in running further but the dagger was the sort that was used for close combat, not for throwing (otherwise that would have been attempted already) so perhaps she could use the young man as a diversion while she threw her own weapon.
“Well we all can’t be flamboyant Orlesians, and trust me you owe me more than a etiquette lesson” she said as she removed herself from the hiding spots “All yours pal, he’s too annoying to handle” she said with a smile as she moved away as if she was leaving the kid unprotected.
The assassin grinned as he moved towards him, oh amateur, the woman thought. Maika knew in that very moment that he wasn’t a crow, a crow wouldn’t have left a witness leave.
And a crow wouldn’t have focused on the kid, missing how Maika was throwing a dagger at his very heart.
Luciano’s eyes widened as Maika stepped away, her casual quip leaving him momentarily stunned.
Wait, what? You’re just... leaving me here? he whispered harshly, glancing between her and the advancing assassin. Do you have any idea who I am?
The hooded man’s attention was locked on Luciano now, and though his heart pounded, he couldn’t entirely feign shock. He was third in line to the Antivan throne, after all—danger came with the territory. Still, having someone actively after him? It felt so *tediously* inconvenient.
Before he could formulate a retort—or a strategy—the dagger flew from Maika’s hand, striking the assassin square in the chest. Luciano flinched, eyes darting to the motionless body now crumpled on the shop floor.
Well, that was... abrupt, he said, his voice faintly trembling despite his attempt at maintaining composure. And here I was about to offer a bribe. Or a stern lecture on common decency.
He straightened, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves and fixing Maika with an incredulous stare.
You used me as bait. The words dripped with indignation, but there was a flicker of grudging admiration in his eyes. I should be furious. But I suppose I can’t exactly argue with the results.
“Well, that was what had to be done in order to keep you alive” she said as she shrugged looking at the shop owner with an apologetic smile “The one you should pay is him” she said pointing at the man that was very much alive and terrified by the ordeal “He will have to clean this and blood is a bitch to get out some fabrics”.
“I did and it kept you alive” she reminded him totally nonchalant about the ordeal “Next time find a body guard or a friend with reflexes” she said as she rose an eyebrow “And I get home soon today, when someone fails a mission usually they send a second assassin just after in case of that the target is wounded thus easier to finish off” Maika added casually.
Luciano exhaled sharply, his nerves still raw from the sudden turn of events. He shot Maika a glare, but it lacked true venom—annoyance, certainly, but also begrudging appreciation.
Oh, *wonderful.* Not only am I nearly assassinated in broad daylight, but now I have to worry about a *sequel?* He ran a hand through his hair, ensuring not a single strand was out of place despite the life-threatening situation. Antiva really has a dreadful way of keeping things *civilized.*
He turned toward the trembling shopkeeper and sighed dramatically, pulling a small pouch of coin from the inner lining of his coat and tossing it onto the counter. For the damages, and for your trauma. I’d tip extra, but frankly, I deserve compensation as well.
His sharp eyes flicked back to Maika. And as for *you*, Miss I-Throw-Daggers-at-People, you clearly have a *very* loose definition of protecting someone. He folded his arms, considering her words. But, fine. You *did* keep me alive. Barely. So, now that I apparently have a *part two* to look forward to, what do you suggest? Because I refuse to barricade myself indoors like some *common* noble in distress.
He gestured toward the crumpled assassin with mild distaste. And I *especially* refuse to get blood on my shoes.
“You look like someone with money, is this like your first assassination attempt? How cute, well there is always a first time for everything” she said casually, feeling a bit petty about how the kid had the nerve to speak with such disrespect to her. “Good luck with that, next time bring a bodyguard”
Maika let him pay the shopkeeper with an amused expression which fell when the man addressed her “I suggest you to find a body guard or someone with talents to follow you around” she merely stated, really not hoping that he was trying to hire her. She had zero interest on following a kid around for her whole free day; Zevran wouldn’t let her hear the end of it.
Luciano scoffed, crossing his arms as he leveled her with a look of pure, unfiltered incredulity.
Oh, yes, how *quaint* of me to have avoided being murdered until now. Silly me, I should have scheduled my first attempted assassination *weeks* ago. He rolled his eyes, then waved a hand. I don’t *need* a bodyguard. I need the people trying to kill me to develop some taste and move on to someone *less important.*
His gaze flickered toward the still-warm corpse on the floor before quickly looking away. He could feel the faintest tremor in his fingers, but he shoved them into his coat pockets to hide it.
Anyway, he continued, voice crisp, if I *were* looking for someone competent to keep me alive, it wouldn’t be some lumbering brute in steel plate. I’d want someone *subtle*, someone *sharp*. Someone who doesn’t treat me like an inconvenience just because I have standards.
