Beignets were pretty tasty, Michael did have to admit. It turned out to be some kind of…fried choux pastry with powdered sugar. Very sweet. Michael approved.
They currently had one in hand, snacking on it as they sat beside Giacomo at a restaurant’s outside table. The weather was nice and a lot of the cafes and restaurants around the area seemed to prefer outdoor dining instead of interior seating, though the angel had to imagine that would change in the stormier seasons.
"I see you're a fan of our local delicacies," Asher, sitting across from them, commented, raising a hand to get the waitress’s attention, "Another plate, please."
"Oh, no, there's no need to order any more for me."
He smiled as though they were joking. "Regardless, I would like some more myself, though you are more than welcome to have some if you wish."
"Ah, fratello, I thought you didn’t like–"
"Now then, I hope you don't mind if we get to business. I’ve been keeping up to date on what’s going on. You’re here about the ‘leviathan’, right?”
Michael paused mid-beignet, slowly munching as they reevaluated the man in front of them, who they weren’t entirely sure was a dwarf or not. He looked like one, what with the beard and the shorter height, but also Giacomo was his brother, presumably by blood…though they didn’t have a guarantee on that either, and Giacomo had oddly sharp teeth, which they didn’t think was a dwarvish trait. Though, what if it was? What if it was, and that was why Noriko was so short–
“Miss Red-Wing? Do you need a minute to chew?”
Ah, right, beignet. Michael swallowed the pastry before affixing Asher with a serious look–
“You have some sugar around your mouth.”
“...” They used a napkin to wipe up the sugar, then affixed Asher with a serious look. “You are remarkably well informed. Perhaps too well informed.”
“In my experience, there’s no such thing. A man with knowledge is always going to be in a better position than one wallowing in ignorance, and I like to take threats seriously. Even if they're just that, I would be a fool not to. Or do you expect me to treat you like Margrave did?"
“Perhaps not. I’m not sure what to expect from you at the moment.”
“That’s reasonable. I am the man who recently executed the upper management of our Gorokiva branch.” Michael paused at the blunt admission, which prompted an even look from the dwarven man. “I did do that personally, by the way. It’s not as though I killed every manager operating under our banner, but I did deliver a full sixteen heads to the Empress.”
“And you ‘executed’ those people yourself?”
“I did.” There was no hint of shame or guilt in his tone or gaze. The deaths of sixteen people were just something he had a hand in, nothing more. “Do you disagree with my methods? They were in a position of authority and yet did nothing to prevent members of our very own guild from participating in a coup against a legitimate authority. They even outright ordered their own subordinates to join with the traitorous daimyo and engage in crimes that reflect negatively on the Sapphire Serpents as a whole. For the good of that whole, a punishment was required.”
“So the Sapphire Serpents had nothing to do with the coup then.”
“No, they were active participants. Some, but not the whole. That was why they had to die. They betrayed the word of our Guild President, our Don, as some would describe him. Not only that, but they did so at the behest of leviathans. Shapeshifters, who could have infiltrated their ranks just as they infiltrated the ranks of the daimyo. So yes, every last one of them did have to die. They were the captains of the crews, so if the ship sinks, they go down too.”
“And their crews?”
“They’ll have no support from the guild. If they want to become outlaws, pirates or bandits, then I imagine the guild will gladly accept bounty hunting contracts, as we always have. For the moment though, our focus is on protecting the wedding of King Richard at the behest of the Eden Queen.”
Michael blinked, remembering the “disguised” queen who had the good sense to leave before the musical got started. “She hired you to provide security? Why?”
“I imagine because as much as she dislikes Richard, she doesn’t want the king dead, if just on account of him providing a semblance of stability. She’s lasted this long without offing the man, so I’m sure she thinks she can hold out for longer. Besides, her sons are in the city too for the wedding, so she’ll want them protected. The same is true for the other queens, though they took their business to other guilds.”
“...What could you tell me about the queens?”
Asher smiled. Michael didn’t particularly like the look of it. “I could tell you a few things. Starting with our client, Queen Alice is the daughter of the Eden duchy, though it’s her brother, Rory, who rules instead, along with his wife Sorina, but they’re not relevant here. They’re not showing up, and will probably send an apology saying their invitation was lost in the mail.”
Giacomo snorted. “Ah, if only it were that easy to get out of all events! Didn’t the duke Rory send one of those assassins?”
“That hasn’t been proven, just like the other attempts haven’t been proven either.” Asher’s smile widened. “Apparently it’s an annual event.”
“...A duke wouldn’t be able to get away with attempting to assassinate his king,” Michael noted with some confusion, since reality wasn’t matching their expectations again.
“I doubt the king notices.”
“How does he not notice assassination attempts??”
“People catch them before they happen.”
“His security is terrible though!” Wait, I shouldn’t know that. “Or so I’ve heard.”
Asher shrugged. “I don’t have an answer for you there, though I can share that Queen Alice has four sons. Not bad for a queen, though it would have been better for her if she were the queen of Tramontava and not Luceneva. They don’t value princes as highly in the land of the Lucene.”
“The point was brought up with enough frequency to stick, yes.”
“Good, then I don’t need to waste time going over how awkward of a situation that is for her. As for the sons, her oldest is Morgan, married to Kestia Yerical in a move that created a big power bloc with the Eden Duchy on one end and the Yerical Dukedom on the other. Then there’s the twins, Clarence and Theodore, and Dylan, the youngest. Each with decent matches of their own, all among Lucenevan nobility. Not as high as duchesses, given the lack of availability, but decent enough to give her a solid homefield backing.”
“So she would have the most ties to the kingdom as a whole then?” That would make it difficult, if not impossible, for anyone to try to take her place. Not to mention I already checked if she was human…though… “The other queen is a Garoti, isn’t she?”
“The second one is. They’ve been having an interesting time lately, haven’t they? Seceding from their nation, trying to form their own…” It took a deal of effort for Michael to avoid wincing. “It’s led to some interesting rumors, that’s for sure. Tales of barons along the border trying to curry favor by sending supplies, weapons and food, ever since the king recognized their claim to independence. Though there are rumors Queen Circe leaned on a few of them. Encouraged them to ‘support the cause’, as it were.”
“She pressured them?”
“The rumors claim she did. But we’re far from the border baronies out in the west, so who knows?”
Michael sighed, letting some frustration show. The world was too big. They could have known about these rumors, these supposed problems, if they had gone the right way, but they didn’t, and now they were relying on hearsay again and again… “What do you think of her?”
“I try not to have an opinion of foreign royals. I find it funny she decided to one up Queen Alice by hiring both the Furies and the Furs though. There’s no love lost between the two queens, and while tensions cooled from outright hostility, I don’t think either are one to let a grudge go. From the rumors, Queen Circe always has tried to put herself above Queen Alice, right down to having three girls, Hestia, Demeter, and Hera, to her four boys.”
Hm. But is her hiring two mercenary guilds evidence of her being the same person, continuing her grudge, or is it evidence of an imposter attempting to stack the odds in their favor? “What about the third queen? What’s she like?”
“Queen Nashyia Aathun is more of an enigma than her fellow wives. It’s not that she's secretive though, more that she's from the Sun Lands. Now if you thought distance was bad enough with Garoti and the baronies, adding an entire sea just makes finding out about the sun's lands and the nobility within all the more difficult. Of course, such a distance could be easily used to hide one's identity." That certainly was true… "All I can say for certain is she's from the Alganan Empire, and many believe she is trying to use Richard’s position to support the Alganan's. She also has a single daughter, Lorelei Lucene.”
“Hm…and that’s all the information you have?”
“That’s it.”
Michael had a hard time believing that, especially from a man who just said how important having information was, though they weren’t sure why he would bother to hide what he knew of this “third queen”. It was possible said queen had also secretly hired him, and had paid him to keep quiet about her, but if he already revealed info on Alice, that possibility wasn't high.
"And what about their kids? The children of Richard as a whole."
"Well, I'd rather not get into specifics given how many of them there are, but it seems they get along, for the most part. They, of course, can't be friendly in public given the grudges their mothers hold, so don't expect to see them interacting with one another. I can at least say that Queen Alice made sure that her children are well protected while they're here, and I imagine the other Queens did the same. Orindaco is a safer place these days. People are protected, and assassinations in the street are rarer than ever–”
“BELSITO! YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
Asher didn’t sigh, though he looked like he wanted to. He glanced at Giacomo, who was in the middle of sipping his coffee. “It’s too much to hope he’s looking for you, huh?”
“Mm?”
“Never mind.” Asher stood up from his seat and turned in the street, looking almost bored as he stared at the redheaded, bearded human practically radiating wrath from further down the street. “I’d ask you not to insult my mother again–”
“FUCK YOU! YOU SON OF A WHORE!”
“Not an insult, but you’re clearly intending it as one–”
“YOU KILLED MY BROTHER! AND NOW I’M GOING TO END YOU FOR IT!”
“Ah, one of those. Giacomo?”
“Fourth one this week, fra,” Giacomo noted, pulling a notebook from his jacket and marking what Michael couldn’t help but notice seemed to be a running tally, “Counting the ones you mentioned in Gorova, I mean.”
“So assassinations are rarer these days, huh?” Michael said, raising an eyebrow to convey their lack of impressedness. Impression? One of those.
Giacomo raised a finger “Technically, this is a duel, not an assassination! He didn’t shoot without warning!”
“Hm.” On the one hand, Michael felt they should put a stop to this before things escalated. On the other…No, wait, they really should stop this from happening. Asher getting wounded would be a bad thing, practically if not morally–
“DON’T IGNORE ME, YOU–”
And from one second to the next, the human–who’d attempted to draw a flintlock from the holster at his side–now had a faceful of ceramic and coffee, and had also shot himself in the foot. “...Belsito.”
“Sì Sister?”
“Older Belsito,” Michael corrected, ignoring the pained screaming.
“Yes, Red-Wing?”
“In the interest of preventing conflict, because I am a thoughtful paladin in control of my emotions who can make rational decisions, don’t brutalize people in front of me.”
“You got it.” The salute was entirely unnecessary, though they did note Asher actually frowned after a second. He even seemed oddly guilty– “Jack, did I throw yours instead of mine?” Oh. So that was it.
“Hm? Oh, you might’ve. It’s no trouble, no need to worry.”
“No, no, I took yours, here, you can have mine–”
“Fratello, I don’t want yours, you drank out of it! Besides, you take yours completely black, that’s too strong–”
Michael listened to the brothers argue for a moment, then glanced at the human writhing in the street, who couldn’t seem to figure out whether he wanted to clutch his face or his foot and was doing a poor job of both. Nobody seemed to mind his pain at all either as bystanders just continued going about their business, not even sparing the man a glance. Not the best indicator of how “violence-free” this city supposedly is.
“Where would the queens be?” Michael asked, interrupting the argument that had turned towards how coffee was meant to be prepared.
“Ah, probably at the captain’s palace,” Giacomo answered.
“Or not. It’s not as though the queens want to stick around their king,” Asher corrected, “The fifth dock is the entertainment district, so there’s a potential place for them there, presuming they’re willing to be seen in such places.”
"Really depends if they care or not, and if you ask me, royals probably expect their 'lessers' to not say a word about their ‘debaucheries’."
"And that's how they end up getting overthrown without realizing it," Asher said, before walking towards the would-be assassin as he tried to get up, "Anyways, Jack, show her to the fifth dock. I'm gonna figure out what to do with this guy. Without brutalizing him, that is."
"Sure thing, Fratello! Come on Sister!”
“She’s not a vestal, you don’t have to call her sister.”
“Eh, she doesn’t mind.” They honestly didn’t. “Ah, though if the dock is a bit too much for you, Sister, we can head back and try to look for the queens elsewhere."
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"I'm sure I can handle whatever this dock has to offer." Michael said, fully sure of themself.
That certainty turned out to be both ill-founded and outright false, since the moment they made their way onto said dock, Michael found themself getting pulled into the grasp of a lagothrope. A genuine one, with full bunny ears and furred limbs, who also happened to be wearing a far too skimpy pirate outfit.
"Seems like I found quite the treasure today~! Don't suppose you'll let me have some~"
"...H-Huh?"
“You know~ A pirate loves gold, right~? And I can see some lovely golden booty right in front of me~”
“...”
A moment later, a crimson-faced Michael walked back across the bridge to the fourth dock. Not running away, of course, just…strategically retreating to reassess the situation. The contrast between the colorful courtesan’s district and the mundane fisher’s wharf felt like night and day and the angel couldn’t help the sigh of relief they let out to be surrounded by the reek of fish instead of whatever overly pleasant perfumes they’d been smelling on the other side.
“So I did get her business card if you want to head back there later, Sister,” Giacomo said, being helpful. In a sense.
“...I’m…going to save that for later. Exploring the dock, I mean, not…what you said.”
“Understood, Sister!”
“...She gave you a card?”
“Sì, a business card. The greeters give them out if you want to request them specifically at their place of business,” he explained while passing said card to them.
“That…Right. I won’t need that,” Michael said as they tucked the card in one of their pockets for very good reasons that would be relevant later. “...Queen Garoti hired the Vermillion Furies and the White Furs, right? You said they’re on the third dock, we’re going there.”
“Ah? We are? Wait, why–Oh okay, we’re going now.”
Giacomo kept up with Michael well enough as they made their way back across the bridges, passing fisheries, breweries, warehouses, and shipwrights before they reached mercantile buildings of all types, from produce providers and baleful butchers to clothiers and weaponers right alongside salt and spice merchants. The streets bustled with activity, filled with people of all stripes and species–from a band of orcs bartering with a fiery-haired merchant over salvaged treasures to a silk-clad lamia negotiating scale sales with a tusked goliath–though the angel in their midst was more focused on finding people in white furs.
The color-coding the adventurer guilds engaged in at least meant their members would be easier to spot, and it wasn’t long before Michael saw a pair of white-hooded mercenaries acting as guards outside a potter’s shop. Easy. Now let’s see what these people know–
“Now what do you think you’re doing?” Giacomo suddenly asked.
Michael turned, confused, then paused as they noticed the younger Belsito had someone’s wrist in his grip. A short woman’s, one who was wearing a brown jacket with…rabbit ears on the hood. Strange–
“E-Eh heh, uh…this gal just noticed you dropped your wallet, so she was gonna just return it–”
“So my wallet is in your hand for that reason? And not because you tried to take it from my pocket? Because it doesn’t look like the chain broke, it’s still there, so–”
“Noriko?” Michael asked, making the short woman jolt, before glancing over at them with wide, familiar eyes, and a mostly covered face, as typical for the ninja. The bunny image on her face mask was new though. “...What are you doing?”
“Uh…practicing.”
“And completely failing at it,” noted another woman in the crowd that Michael just now noticed, despite her being right by the angel’s side.
"In this gal's defense, she has no idea what a wallet chain is," Noriko said, letting go of the wallet, "You mind letting go of this gal?"
"Yeah right, I ain't letting you hares slink away-"
"Giacomo, let her go, I know her."
"Eh? Uh, you sure, Sister?" Giacomo asked, though he did let go of Noriko despite his confusion, "Not to doubt your judgment of character, but you shouldn't trust any Hares."
"She isn't one. Or at least, she wasn't one when I saw her yesterday,” Michael admitted, frowning, “Noriko, what exactly are you doing pickpocketing people?"
"Oh well you know, getting in some training. Sure, this gal is a highly trained ninja and all, but she's not really one for stuff like this, so this gal's new friend here offered to help her out!" Noriko explained, gesturing at the woman next to Michael, who was indeed wearing a brown hood, albeit one without the rabbit ears.
"...Guess that explains the new hood and mask."
"It doesn't," cut in the hooded woman, "She made those on her own, it's not a standard uniform."
"Well it should be! If you got a symbol, you gotta rep it! Otherwise you might as well just be called the Brown Hoods! Or maybe Cloaks?"
Leaving Noriko’s musings aside, Michael glanced over at the taller, elvish woman, noting the dark-gray skin that marked her as a dark elf. “So how did you two meet?”
“We found her on a rooftop.”
“...We?”
“Carp! Koi! Come on, I found out one of the queens is–Oh, uh...” And now there was a third person in a brown cloak. A halfling. Huh. “...Ohhh, thanks so much for finding my sister, she gets lost easy–”
“She knows Noriko, Crab,” Carp explained, earning a scowl from the newly-named “Crab”. Likely a pseudonym–
“What have I said about using my real name in public!?” Or not. Wait…
“What did you just say about a queen?” Michael asked.
“Uh…h-heh, uh, no, I meant, like…a queen crab! You know, the ones with the sparkly shells, that type, heh.”
“...” Michael simply grabbed the front of his cloak and hoisted him up to eye-level with them. “What did you say about a queen?”
“...I said you should put me down if you don’t want a knife in the neck.”
“And I said I have diamonds and am willing to pay you if you give information freely.”
“In that case, I actually said that you can feel free to manhandle me however you want, ma’am. My going rate is ten gold per question.”
“Understood.” Still holding the halfling, Michael rooted through their pockets before picking out more diamonds.
“How do you still have so many…?” Noriko wondered as Crab’s eyes seemed to bulge.
“Why wouldn’t I? Now, Crab, what can you tell me?”
Many things, apparently, including the fact that his name was apparently Crabson–Crab being a shortened nickname–he was the current head of the Brown Hares Thieves Guild, he grew up under the guild alongside Carp and also Margrave Brascul–
“I meant about the queen.”
“Oh, right…I still get a diamond per answer though, right?”
“Yes.”
“Hey, how much would it get us if we could help you spy on the queen in question?” Carp asked, entirely unbothered by how long Michael had her apparent boss hoisted into the air.
“Hm…Which queen is it?”
“The Garoti queen, Circe.”
“Hm…would double the amount suffice?”
“Make it triple and sure.”
And so, a deal was struck. Though Noriko did comment that Michael apparently needed to “learn how economics work” after the fact.
“Why? My understanding is fine. I give people shiny rocks and they do things for me.”
“Yeah, but…hey, you, tall guy. Explain economics to Mishi.”
Giacomo shrugged, walking along with their impromptu group as the pair of hares led the way towards some type of wrestling hall. “You give a man a shiny coin, the man gives you what you gave him the coin for.”
“That’s not–Specifics! Be more specific!”
“Do I look like a banker?”
“Yes.”
“...I don’t know why that felt rude, but it did,” Giacomo muttered as they arrived at the Wrangling Kraken, supposedly the premiere fighting hall of the White Fur Orindaco Branch, though aside from how noisy it seemed to be, it looked like any other two-story tall tavern. So long as one ignored the wooden tentacles wrapping around the sign, which were painted white.
"This place used to be just a regular fighting ring, but it went under, so the Furs decided to buy it up, and whoever made that choice liked the name well enough to keep it," Carp commented, gesturing at the tentacle-wrapped sign.
"Ah yeah, I remember this place. Got into my first bar fight here." Giacomo said, a fond smile on his face as he recalled that past brawl, "Lost a tooth, but still won! Shame it got bought by the Furs though."
“You have fake teeth?” Noriko asked, apparently focusing on that one part.
“Nah, it grew back. Mama’s half selachi, so I’ll probably never run out of teeth.”
“Giacomo’s biology aside,” Michael interrupted, “How do we get inside?”
“Fantastic question, my fair lady!” Crab declared with a weird flourish, “For you see, not anyone can simply go through the front doors of the Kraken–“
It was at that exact point a full-sized bear went flying straight through the front doors of the Kraken. Startled bystanders jolted away as the bear landed in the street, seemingly completely unconscious. Michael also couldn't help but notice the bear’s claws were wrapped up.
"Oh shit, someone knocked out Felix??" Giacomo exclaimed, sounding surprised as he approached the unconscious bear, "Didn't expect to see him get sent flying."
Michael blinked before the realization hit. "Oh, I see. He's an Ursinthrope."
"Eh? No, Felix is just a bear. A weirdly smart one, granted. No idea where they found him, but he's one of the best bare-knuckle boxers here."
"...Something about that phrasing annoys me."
“Well I guess his claws are wrapped up today, so callin’ him ‘bare-knuckle’ isn’t completely accurate.”
“Not that part.”
"Should we take him back inside or…?" Noriko asked, crouching down by him.
"Nah, someone will come out in a moment to get him. Now come on, we have a lady to find." Crab said, uncaring of the unconscious bear. With that, he turned and walked into the building.
"I thought we couldn't just walk in…?" Michael asked, following behind him. They assumed the others did as well, but they somehow lost sight of Carp and Noriko as they wandered in. Guess the training was paying off.
"Make sure to be careful, Sister. I know you're probably tough and all, but in a place like this one wrong look and you'll end up getting socked in the face," advised Giacomo as he straightened his back up, scowling a bit at being in White Fur territory.
"Is that what happened to you?"
"I didn't do anything, not my fault some asshole thought I was laughing at him for losing a bet." While he said that, Michael looked around as several cheers and jeers sounded out, all aimed towards the current “winner”, a minotaur with braided cornrows, only one horn, and countless white eye tattoos over his body, tracing all across and down his bare chest and arms. "Oh wow, that's freaky looking."
"I get having a thing, but that's a bit too much,” Crab mumbled.
While Michael didn't say anything, they couldn't help but agree. The dark-skinned minotaur looked like a hundred-eyed giant, with even his forehead and cheeks visibly marked by those same white eyes that stood out starkly against his body.
“AND THAT’S ANOTHER KNOCKOUT FOR NEW REIGNING CHAMP, ARGUS PANOPTES!” a woman in the ring–dressed in a short, white top and matching pants; she was presumably human and had braided, pale-blonde hair, light skin, and visibly sharp teeth–announced, gesturing to the taur as he basked in the cheers and boos of the crowd, “HOW ABOUT SOME CHEERS FOR THE QUEEN'S GUARD, EH!? HA!”
Queen’s guard? Michael frowned, their eyes going from the minotaur towards the crowd, looking through the people to find the queen.
"She's not going to be down here," Crab muttered as he stepped by their side, "Important folk are gonna be on the floor above us, it gives them a nice view and let's them think they're above everyone else. Metaphorically, not just literally."
A glance upwards showed there was indeed a second floor surrounding the ring, open in the middle so spectators could enjoy the fights. "So let's go up then. Where are the stairs?"
"Ah, Sister, we can't just do that,” Giacomo said, “While I'm sure these dirty hares can probably sneak up there, someone of your grandeur would easily be noticed. We gotta get invited up there."
“The hell do you mean ‘dirty’!?” Crab snapped, scowling.
“What? Is what I said wrong? You do scramble around in the dirt for coin all day, don’t you–”
“Oh says the fucking cabin boy! Don’t think I don’t recognize you!”
“Really? Can’t say the same here–Ah, wait, Sister, don’t go off on your own again!”
But Michael wasn’t listening because they’d spotted the staircase up and was already moving towards it, though they did have to pause at the sight of a white-clad goliath blocking the way. Kind of reminded them of the pair back in that one town, actually, though heftier with black hair and a beard. “I need to go upstairs.”
“No you don’t.”
“...Yes, I do. I need to speak with the queen–”
“Then you really don’t. If the queen wanted to speak with you, you’d be up there already.”
“That–What kind of logic is that?”
“Ah, Dolph! It is you, hello! I see you are guarding the stairs instead of the door,” Giacomo greeted as he stepped in front of Michael, “Don’t mind Sister Isha, she just wants to check on the queen, it’s paladin business, you know the sort.”
“Can’t say I do. I didn’t hear of a paladin coming in, and I didn’t hear there would be a Scale coming by either.”
“Well I’m helping guide the Sister here, so where she goes, I go.”
“Sure. Then you can go out the door instead. Your choice if it’s on your feet or off.”
Michael bristled, pushing past Giacomo–Then paused as a hand pushed back against their chest. Not the goliath’s, he hadn’t moved, though they did notice his eyes widening beneath his bushy eyebrows as he stared at the far too familiar blonde woman who’d just moved in front of Michael.
“C-Captain??” Giacomo nearly squeaked, earning a small glance from the blonde before she turned back to Dolph.
“I’m going up,” Margrave Brascul stated.
“...Yeah, of course.” And the goliath moved with barely a hint of hesitation.
“Thank you, Rudy. Jack, Redwing, you’re with me.”
Michael blinked, but before they could say anything, Brascul went up the stairs and Giacomo hurried after her. “...Hm.”
The upper area of the Wrangling Kraken certainly looked fancier than the lower. Numerous trophies–weapons, treasures, and the skulls and pelts of various monsters–were displayed in positions of prominence along the walls while the important guests had access to a full bar providing champagnes and wines on request. Something the second queen of Luceneva seemed to be taking advantage of, judging by the glass in her hand as she lounged on a couch overlooking the ring, placed right up against the balustrade so she could watch the fight.
Michael took a moment to try to Look at the queen–Then winced and shut their eyes, cutting off their sin sense from the sudden overload of vice in the air. It was like being at the Morningstar again; a heavy shroud of sin that permeated the air in vivid purples, reds, and yellows, primarily, all further shaded by the bright pinks of a Lust for Violence.
Colors that seemed to match the queen herself, what with her long, crimson hair–braided in some places and loose in others–that was wreathed by a golden crown, matching the similar gold chains wrapping up her horns. The lightly-tanned minotaur was further dressed in a loose, purple gown, open at one hip and cinched at the waist by a jeweled band.
"Greetings Queen Circe, I hope the entertainment here is to your liking." Magrave said, smiling as she sat on the couch, though with a notable distance between the two.
"Argus knows how to put on a show, though I'd rather be fighting down there myself," Circe responded, drinking her wine while a servant poured some for Brascul. It seemed the queen traveled with an entourage, given the mix of courtiers and attendants lounging around amidst the mercenaries enjoying the show.
"And what kind of host would I be if I let a queen get injured during her visit?"
"Ha, I don't know if I should be insulted or not for that comment." Finishing off her wine, Circe practically slammed the glass down, somehow not shattering it on impact. "You could at least bring someone who can give Argus a challenge if you want to be a good host."
"Oh don't worry, I did." With a smile that did little to hide the malice behind it, Brascul gestured toward Michael. "Paladin Redwing here will be my champion for today."
"...Eh?"
"Oh? Starting to think you're losing your touch there, this elf looks like she can't even handle being in here, much less in a fight."
“What.”
Brascul simply grinned, leaning back against the cushions. “I wouldn’t pick them if I didn’t think they could handle themself. They did face off against my brother, and evenly enough at that, even if they did lose in the end. Though that outcome was never really in doubt either.”
Michael bristled, before pausing as Circe looked at them, the queen’s crimson eyes giving them an obvious once-over. “This golden brat? I don’t see it.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind a bet on the outcome, would you? Say, if Redwing here wins, you come back to the palace and stop making it a hassle to keep an eye on you.”
“...ha, so that’s your game then. I guess having a queen roaming around your city makes you anxious? You should be getting Nash then, assuming she’s gone with that plan of visiting every brothel and cabaret along the fifth dock.”
“Consider it next on the list.”
Circe snorted. “So I take priority, huh? You half-assed flatterer. Fine. But when Argus breaks your champion in two, I’ll want something for winning.”
“And I suppose you’re not going to tell me what that is until you can have it.”
“So the rumors are true, you can put two and two together. Just get ready for it, it’s no fun having to deal with a graceless loser.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Brascul nodded to the queen, then stood with a smile towards Michael. “Well, Redwing? You’re my champion.”
“...I don’t recall agreeing to that.”
“Really? So you don’t want to know Anaya Greenfall met up with her ex-girlfriend earlier today then.”
Michael blinked. “...That…what does that have to do with–?”
Brascul held up a finger. “They also went to the fifth dock together. I can give you the exact location, if you fight for me.”
“...”
So it seemed Michael was going to fight Queen Circe’s bodyguard. Not how they expected the day to go, but hm.