Crimson and Gold

When Saria left, Mormo invited Lysandra to his office on the second floor of Charybdis.

Upon calling the servants to bring refreshments and wine, the man sat comfortably on the sofa on the opposite side of the Princess and watched her intently.

“Such tenderness,” he said after a moment. “If I didn’t know any better, I would take you for a pair of lovers, not a mistress and a daethri.”

Lysandra glanced at him from under her long eyelashes, without answering. She took a grape from the platter placed before them and ate it in silence.

Then she took the goblet with the wine and leaned back on the sofa.

“The woman. Who is she and what do you want from her?” she asked eventually.

“I understand your concerns, given my reputation and my trade, Your Highness. But I can assure you that my intentions on this matter are pure.”

Lysandra flashed him a cunning smile of someone who had been around politics far longer than she cared to admit.

“Be in this business as long as I and you will learn that words hardly ever hold any meaning,” she parroted.

A hint of cautious admiration gleamed in Mormo’s eyes. “Touché,” he said and reached for his own cup, “But I’m afraid you will have to wait until your companion returns to see that my words are true.”

“How convenient.”

“Convenient and necessary.”

“Necessary for what exactly?”

“For you to believe me, Your Highness.”

Lysandra watched him in silence for a moment before taking another sip from her goblet.

The taste of wine spread on her tongue with a refreshing sweetness that, unexpectedly, made her think about Saria.

She forced her expression to remain neutral despite the warmth she suddenly felt in her heart.

“You don’t like me. I understand that,” Mormo broke the silence and pulled Lysandra back to the present. “But we’re not that different, you and I.”

Lysandra’s fine eyebrows shot upwards. “Comparing yourself to me? I must take offense to that, I’m afraid. We’re nothing alike.”

“Is this what you believe?”

“It’s what I know,” she answered, putting the goblet away. “I know all about your dirty deals, all the people you sold and imprisoned. All the women you forced into this disgusting place.

“To be compared to you is an insult.”

Mormo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He cast his gaze down, thinking about something.

“You know, Your Highness,” he started slowly, raising his head to look at Lysandra again. “I know about your deals, too.”

In his black eyes danced a flicker of something dangerous, intertwined with a glimmer of something that Lysandra couldn’t help but interpret as sadness.

“I know about your villa in Keros and the people there. So tell me, Your Highness,” Mormo leaned forward on the sofa to stare deeply into her eyes, “What makes you any different? Is it the divine mandate that comes with your royal blood? Or maybe the fact that you’re a woman strips your actions of any wrongdoings?”

Blood rushed to Lysandra’s face the moment she heard him mention Keros. The property she had there should have been a secret to everyone, except for the handful of people she personally selected.

Even her father, or Saria, didn’t know about Keros.

Knowing that Mormo mentioned the name to shake her, she resisted as much as she could from showing any signs of emotion on her face.

“Do you have a point, or are you just trying to annoy me?” she asked with the most threateningly innocent expression she could muster.

“Like I said,” Mormo continued, “Our interests align. We could achieve a lot if you were able to look past your grievances.”

“I took you for a businessman, Mormo. A shady, disgusting one, but a businessman nonetheless. I didn’t know that you’re actually a comedian,” Lysandra answered with a voice cold enough to put a blizzard to shame.

Mormo didn’t seem bothered, however. The way he leaned back comfortably on the sofa, leisurely sipping his wine, seemed to be saying that this was the reaction he anticipated.

And this was something that made Lysandra even more uncomfortable. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Mormo knew far more than he was letting on, and perhaps, far more than anyone else.

“Then there is nothing more for us to do but wait,” he said after a longer pause, “Let us hope your friend is as talented as they say.”

Less than an hour after she left Charybdis, Saria arrived at the location pointed out by Mormo.

It was a simple mansion at the outskirts of Aervelis that had seen better times.

After a glance, Saria established that the person Mormo told her to find must have been kept in the pavilion next to the main building, located in the central part of the property.

Covering her face with the mask and making sure the hood was properly covering her face, Saria quickly scaled the wall and found herself on the other side of it.

Using what she had learned recently about her powers, she focused her senses, detecting every heartbeat nearby.

If her abilities were correct, there was a total of thirty-one people on the property, excluding herself. One person specifically attracted her attention as her presence sounded from the cellar of the pavilion she saw before.

Quietly, Saria moved in the shadows, skillfully avoiding attention from anyone.

Her abilities as a member of Sekaris placed her in the upper echelons of assassins, but along with her blood magic and the enchantments on the armor, the advantage she had over the people was almost unfair.

Sneaking past the two patrolling guards, who stopped for a quick chat, the conversation involuntarily reached her ears.

“Do you think Mormo is going to try taking the girl back?”

“And how is he going to do that?”

“I don’t know? What if he attacks us?”

Saria heard the second man laughing.

“Last time he tried confronting us, he lost almost all of his people. If he’s even remotely smart, he’s just gonna let it go.”

“I guess you’re right, though the girl seemed important to him,” admitted the first person. “Do you think it’s his family or something?”

“Who the fuck cares? Sevus sold her to Yanis, so she belongs to Yanis now. If Mormo has a problem, he can go deal with that fat fuck himself.”

The first guy sighed heavily. “I wouldn’t have expected Sevus to sell us someone with so many problems attached. I thought his business was legitimate. Him selling daethris to the Emperor and all.”

“He’s just another greedy sonuvabitch. If you think any of these people have any morals, then you are more naive than I thought.

“Money is all they care about. All of them. Bunch of rabid dogs that managed to escape the chain and now are doing anything they can to keep it that way.”

“People say that Mormo isn’t. They say he helps thaels and the poor folk. Even the whores in his brothel are treated like proper ladies.”

The other guy snorted loudly. “Proper ladies? How the fuck do you treat a whore like a proper lady?”

“Like, you know…” the other scratched his head while thinking, “he’s not forcing them or anything.”

There was a hint of admiration in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by his companion.

“Are you starting his fan club or something?”

“No, I was just—”

“Then shut the fuck up, you fucking idiot. If Yanis ever hears you repeat this bullshit, you will end up worse than an eunuch.”

The other man immediately apologized, which met with a series of unrefined curses sent at him again.

Not in the mood for a further conversation, the men resumed their patrol, allowing Saria to sneak towards the pavilion.