After performing a brief, simple tune, the duo then set themselves up on a low, raised platform, which served as a makeshift stage. Aubrey's fingers gripped at the strings of her guitar and gently stroked their tips across the metallic cords. Her eyes closed, shutting out everything else around her—the murmurs, the clatter, even the sound of the occasional cup or cutlery.

In that moment, there was nothing in existence except for the feel of the wood against her palms and the vibrations running through them as her fingertips danced atop the strings. Her other hand strummed at the chords, producing a melodic, acoustic tune that filled the tavern.

It wasn't flashy, no. It didn't have any fancy trills or embellishments.

Simple. Precise. Clean. Just as all songs should start—with a basic idea and a clear vision of where it wanted to go.

Liza followed her lead, pulling her bow across the violin's strings to add an element of depth to the sound. Slowly, she added in different harmonies and flourishes of her own, weaving a more intricate melody to accompany Aubrey's simpler, yet no less effective composition.

The two of them began to fall into sync.

The crowd's murmur died down. One by one, every pair of eyes in the tavern swiveled in their direction. The discordant din faded away, and the soft, measured rhythm of the music became the sole focal point within the room. With her eyes still shut, Aubrey's fingers continued to move deftly across the strings of her guitar. A slow smile spread across her face as she felt the hairs stand on end at the back of her neck.

The first step of her plan was a success.

Now it was time for the next part—to lure the unsuspecting fish into her net.

Aubrey opened her eyes. She focused her gaze on her target, the posse from the Iron Circle, and locked onto their leader—a middle-aged, ginger-haired man clad in a classy, navy-blue suit. He had a broad jaw and a square chin, with sharp features that cut a striking profile. His deep-set eyes stared back at her from beneath heavy lids, which narrowed ever so slightly at the sight of her.

In that instant, Aubrey knew she'd made the right choice in performing a simple, acoustic number. Her song had caught his attention. The only thing left was to make sure he was hooked.

So, she sang. Her voice rose above the gentle hum of their instruments, cutting through the ambient noise of the bar to reach the ears of every patron present.

It wasn't a powerful belting. Far from it. Instead, Aubrey delivered the lyrics of her song in a gentle, crooning tone, the sound lilting and airy, as if she were half-talking and half-singing all at once. There was no urgency to her words, just a sense of calm, effortless control. Even when the chorus came and she had to stretch her vocal range, she maintained this relaxed cadence, never rushing or straining for the next note.

The performance wasn't spectacular. It wouldn't be an instant classic, or a hit single. But, like a good, aged wine, it had that elusive quality that made people stop and listen—and then come back for more once they'd grown accustomed to its unique flavor.

Slowly, the Iron Circle men began to shift in their seats. Their postures straightened and they turned towards her. Aubrey could see them leaning forward, listening intently. She saw their gazes rove over her body, taking in her wild, tangled locks, her scantily clad figure, and the confident gleam in her crimson eyes, which seemed to flash even brighter than normal in the dim light of the tavern.

As soon as she finished singing, Aubrey strummed one final chord on her guitar, letting it ring out across the now-silent room. Then, with a satisfied sigh, she looked out at the crowd, flashing them a bright smile.

The entire room erupted into applause.

Cheers and hoots erupted from all corners. Several people stood up, raising their drinks high and shouting their approval. A few threw coins into the hats set on the floor in front of them, while others simply cheered enthusiastically from their tables.

Aubrey and Liza stepped down from the stage and returned to their table, but not without getting some congratulatory handshakes along the way.

That wasn't the only thing they'd earned, however. Just as Aubrey had expected, her little stunt managed to attract the attention of her quarry.

A young man with slicked-back, blond hair and a neatly-groomed beard walked up to the duo.

"Evenin' lasses!" he greeted, doffing his fedora. The gentleman had on a maroon vest, black bowtie, and trousers. He wore a bright, friendly grin, but Aubrey caught the way his blue eyes traveled up and down their bodies and then lingered on Liza's figure in particular. "Name's Geoff. Me and my mates were quite taken with yer little ditty there. Would you mind joining us fer some drinks? I'd love to get acquainted!"

Aubrey suppressed a smirk as she caught Liza's sidelong glance, her cheeks slightly reddening at the mention of his desire to "get acquainted."

Turning her attention back to their potential catch, Aubrey returned his greeting with a slight incline of her head. "Sure, why not? The name's Auriel, and this here's Liliana. Pleasure to meetcha!"

"Wonderful!" Geoff motioned for them to follow. "Well, come along then. Me mates and I have a private booth over by the far wall. Let us treat you to a round or two, aye?"

She gave him her most winning smile, lacing her fingers with Liza's. "Lead the way."

----------------------------------------

It seemed that Geoff wasn't the only one eager to invite them to their table. By the time they reached the Iron Circle men's table, Aubrey found several members of the posse leering at her and Liza. Their eyes roved freely, and although the men in suits tried to remain discreet, it was obvious they were ogling their bodies nonetheless.

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One of them even let out a low, appreciative whistle as they approached.

"Now, now..." Geoff shushed them, a small smirk playing on his lips. "These fine ladies have agreed to sit with us for a little bit of drinking and conversation. Behave yourselves, ya swines!"

"Aye, and you better do the same! Can't have you acting all boorish while we try to put on a civilized front, eh?" An elderly man retorted with a laugh, lifting a crystal glass of amber-colored liquid in a mock salute.

His statement earned raucous guffaws and more cheers from the group. Some of them raised their drinks and clinked their glasses together. Another young, well-dressed man with curly, brown hair patted the seat next to him and smiled invitingly at Liza.

"Come on and sit yourself down," he drawled in a slow, confident manner.

Aubrey fought the urge to gag, plastering on a genial smile while she waited for Liza to seat herself. Before she could follow suit, however, Geoff quickly stepped in and gestured for her to take a spot beside the middle-aged man in a navy suit who had caught her attention during her performance.

"There ya go, love," he murmured in her ear as she slid into the booth. "Nice 'n cozy now, innit? We'll let this ol' chap handle introductions. Just make yerself comfortable and enjoy yer time here! Can I get ya anything? Wine? Spirits? Ale?"

Aubrey blinked and glanced up at the posse's apparent leader. His chiseled features and intense gaze were accentuated by a faint scar that ran across his cheekbone. When their eyes met, his lips quirked upwards in a brief half-smile that crinkled the corners of his grey eyes.

"Uh, sure." Aubrey shrugged, resting an arm on the table. "Surprise me. I'm game for anything."

"Anything, you say?" Geoff chuckled as he grabbed a bottle from an ice bucket. He poured the contents of the glass decanter into a crystal glass, then offered it to Aubrey with an exaggerated flourish. "Have a taste of this fine vintage! Straight from the cellars of the renowned wine merchants, the Flanagan Brothers! They know how to brew and distill some bloody good stuff!"

Geoff then moved away to attend to Liza. "And for the lady? What would you like? C'mon, don't be shy! I'll get ye whatever you fancy, no matter the price."

"I... uh... Um... I'm good. Thank you." Liza blushed, shrinking in on herself at the attention directed towards her.

"Now, now, let's not have any of that nonsense! You've gotta let loose a bit and relax. Yer among friends here, love! Just point at something from the menu, and it's yours. My treat, eh?"

While Geoff continued to cajole and flatter Liza, Aubrey took a sip of her wine, savoring its rich flavors. It really did taste incredible. The fruity bouquet, the tangy sweetness mixed with hints of spice...

She exhaled contentedly, licking her lips before looking up at the older gentleman sitting beside her.

"That's pretty good stuff..." She glanced at the decanter on the table. "Mind if I have another glass?"

"Go ahead." The man nodded, reaching over to pour more into her glass. As he poured, his gaze flickered to Aubrey's face and lingered on her features for a moment. A small frown creased his brow, but quickly disappeared.

Aubrey raised an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Not necessarily," he replied after a pause. A wry smile formed on his thin lips. He set the bottle down and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I must confess that seeing you now, up close, brings up certain... memories, shall we say?"

"Memories?" Aubrey questioned, tilting her head. "Oh? Do tell."

The older man paused to consider his words, tapping his index finger on his arm absently as he pondered. After a beat, he hummed under his breath.

"Well, you see, I can't help but wonder... Have we met before?"

Aubrey grinned and casually took another gulp of her wine. She pretended to mull over the question. "Hm... I don't think so? Would've remembered a handsome gentleman like you."

"I see," he murmured, stroking his neatly-trimmed beard. "Strange... Your face... It stirs something within my memory, though perhaps it eludes me at present."

"If we had, I doubt it's a pleasant memory. I can't seem to control myself around old men. My impulses tell me to sock a good number of 'em right in the jaw," Aubrey joked with a half-hearted chuckle, putting on a lighthearted facade.

Her thoughts, however, raced wildly as she tried to guess who this person could have been to her in her other life, given the memories they supposedly shared. Surely he couldn't be one of those people who had... killed her?

A vague feeling bubbled in her gut—not quite alarm, but not quite calm either. Something in this man's icy, stormy grey eyes made her want to tread carefully.

The older gentleman didn't respond to her joke, instead offering only a noncommittal grunt, and taking a sip from his own goblet. However, she noticed his shoulders tense for just a moment, which only made her more apprehensive about him.

They sat there silently for a time, nursing their respective drinks while the others conversed animatedly amongst themselves. Geoff appeared to have had success getting Liza to join in, albeit her responses seemed to have become shorter and terser as the night wore on. She shot Aubrey pleading glances whenever she could, and her fingers drummed restlessly atop the table, a sure sign that she was becoming impatient.

"Ah, my apologies," the older gentleman spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence. He extended his left hand for a handshake. "I forgot to introduce myself. I am Percival Berestour. These men that you see here," he gestured to the entire table, "are some of my most trusted lieutenants in the Iron Circle."

"Huh...?" Aubrey looked around, her expression one of feigned surprise. "These guys? Seriously? Wow... Big wigs, huh? Never would've pegged it."

"Yes, they tend to have that effect on people who aren't familiar with us," he said, letting out a faint snort that seemed almost affectionate. "But enough about them. I'd like to learn more about you, miss...?"

"Auriel. Auriel Thorne." She reached out to shake his hand, but his grip froze upon hearing her name. His brows furrowed, as if in confusion, but quickly smoothed away. He released her hand and nodded slowly.

"Fascinating. A pleasure, Miss Thorne. To tell you the truth, you and your friend... caught my eye during your performance. Not just for your skill, mind you, but also because of how... well, how interesting you both appeared. Tell me, would you happen to be working under anyone right now?" Percival inquired, keeping his eyes fixed on hers as he spoke.

"Not really. We're street performers, honestly," Aubrey admitted with a chuckle. "Kind of hard to get gigs when you don't have any real connections, right?"

"Hmm, yes. Connections... Everyone needs connections." Percival regarded her for another moment before nodding to himself again. "In that case, Miss Thorne, if you would consider allowing me to provide you with such connections, it would be my pleasure to hire you as an entertainer for our upcoming celebrations at the Iron Circle's headquarters. Would you and your partner agree to such an arrangement?"

Geoff, who had apparently been paying attention to their conversation all the while, gave a small whoop.

"Bloody brilliant!" he crowed, slapping a hand down on Liza's shoulder. Her slight jolt in response went unnoticed by him. "Looks like you ladies are finally gonna get that big break, eh?"

Aubrey remained silent for a moment, studying Percival closely, and he held her gaze with an equally intense stare of his own. Then, after a brief pause, she smirked and raised her glass towards him in a mocking toast.

"Sounds like a fine deal to me... Mister Berestour."