Alaric leaned against a weathered wooden beam, assessing the situation. On one side, Crab was trying to get Wart to stand, encouraging him to stay upright on his own. It wasn’t that his leg injury prevented him, as it seemed to be completely healed. Rather, the young man was entirely drunk.

On the other side, the two women had moved to the opposite corner of the room. They were talking among themselves, and it seemed like the older one was giving the younger one a scolding in a low voice.

He tried to maintain a cold and serious expression, but in reality, he was smiling inside. In the end, the deal hadn't turned out badly. It was true that the issue with the guards caught them by surprise, but he doubted the woman had anything to do with it; it wouldn’t make any sense. Perhaps a regiment just happened to be passing through the castle that night, or who knows.

The point was, they managed to escape with the loot anyway, the amulet of Ganra-Vash, Vanar-Lash, or whatever it was called. The name mattered little to him. He only needed the description: "a gold amulet shaped like a snake biting its tail, encircling a round red stone, kept by the Count in his chambers, inside a reliquary on his bedside table." They were going to get paid more than expected, the boy earned a scar to brag about to the girls, and he had received a tremendous slap from the woman.

Yes, he admitted it. His attempt to play the charming rogue hadn’t worked. "That wasn’t very professional of you, Alaric," he thought. But it didn’t go any further, and the only damage was to his ego. And his ego was already used to such trifles, so it was all forgotten.

He watched the sisters more closely. They both shared the same olive green eye color, but apart from that, they were as different as night and day. The younger one was about Wart’s age. She had a rounded face and rosy cheeks. She was a petite girl and seemed to have a healthy appetite. Her blonde hair was styled in a braided crown, and beneath it peeked a pair of simple silver hoop earrings. She had a pleasant demeanor, the kind of person that people tend to like, without even knowing her.

Her sister, on the other hand, seemed to be quite the opposite. She projected a certain regal elegance, as if she were above the rest of mortals. And that haughty air provoked the opposite reaction to her sister’s natural charm. On the other hand, she wasn’t the most beautiful or the most voluptuous woman he had ever come across, but she had her own charm. She was a bit younger than him, brunette, elegant, and slender. She wore her hair loose, adorned with small braids and silver beads.

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Both wore dark-colored dresses. The elder one wore green, the younger one wore violet. Simple, not to draw attention, but of good quality. They covered themselves with waxed black leather capes with large hoods to protect against the rain.

He then noticed that they were also looking at him, intently.

“Is something wrong, Master Toothpick?” asked the older sister, with that irritating haughty tone.

“Well, the truth is that my partners and I are very much enjoying your company, and of your sister’s, of course. But unfortunately, I think it’s time to conclude our business,” he replied, obligingly.

The woman nodded and pulled a fine leather pouch from her pocket, which she placed gently on a rectangular stone protruding from the wall. It looked like it had been used as a table a long time ago, though now it only served as a base for the moss that covered it.

“You’re right, there’s no reason to prolong this any further. Here’s the agreed sum, one hundred silver royals.” She took out four more gold coins from the pouch at her belt. “And this, for the unexpected troubles. Your turn.”

Alaric looked at his companions, pausing for dramatic effect, and nodded slightly. Crab rummaged in his bag and took out something wrapped in a linen cloth. With three strides, he handed it to Alaric, who then passed it to the woman. Before giving it to her, he held it in his hand for a moment.

“May I ask why this medallion is so important to you? You’re paying double its value.”

“Of course you can ask,” she replied disdainfully. “But you won’t get an answer, as it doesn’t concern you. I believe the fee we’re paying is well worth a ‘don’t ask’.”

Alaric nodded, smiling, and handed over the package. The woman proceeded to unwrap it on the ancient stone table. She examined the contents and ran her hand over it. Then, she slowly refolded the cloth. A half-smile appeared on her face, but it didn’t seem like a happy one. It was more of the smiles that precede madness. The kind that inspires fear. She stared at him, pale, with wide eyes and a slight tremor in her left eyelid.

“This… this amulet is fake. It’s not the real amulet of Vanar-Gash.”