When the carriage comes to its final stop in front of the wide, sprawling steps leading up to the Playhouse’s main entrance there’s an uncomfortable moment as I realise I ain’t got the first clue what the actual protocol is here. I’m the bodyguard, not an actual servant per say, but technically I’m still s’posed to be subservient to Shay since she is the noble here, ‘least in theory. When I look to her she just looks right back at me, her eyes a good deal wider’n mine, and I realise she’s just come to the same realisation, without the first clue what to do either. So I suck in a wary breath and just err on the side of caution all the same after all, springing to my feet and opening the door so I can jump down even as a pair of attendants arrive to do it for me. They both spring back as I appear, taking me in with noticeable surprise, and I jump down with little more than a tightening jaw as I turn back to the interior of the vehicle.
It's a big enclosed wagon, not unlike the large traveling coaches that shuttle paying passengers across large stretches of the wild country between towns and cities throughout Rundao, but this one is a whole lot fancier than any I seen before. The bench seating inside is a whole lot more plush for a start, soft upholstered cushions lined in thick velvet instead of thinly-padded leather, and there’s even a covered bar which we were both loath to touch, preferring to keep ourselves sharp for now. Lots o’ room, too, but the fact it was nonetheless clearly intended just for the pair of us spoke volumes about the kind of disconcerting wealth we’re dealing with and its unavoidable psychology.
Shay hated it right away, but then when I suggested she just use it to get into character for what we’re about she got a whole lot more introspective. Now as I lean back in I find her taking a deep breath of her own to compose herself as she pushes up off her perched seat and takes hold of my offered hand with just the slightest tightening of her brow to show any consternation. As I guide her through the doorway and then start to help her down like I seen other bodyguards do for their wealthy charges in the past, she lets the breath go and manages to compose herself the rest o’ the way. By the time I got her settled on the packed gravel of the circular drive she’s managing a pretty good approximation of aloof.
When I turn to regard the driver, perched up on his high seat with the reins in hand, he catches my eye for a loaded moment and casts a subtle nod, then just turns away as he cracks his whip above the four-strong horse-team and they start to hustle the carriage away again. The two attendants are still hovering close by, I see now, and I give ‘em both a suitably hard glare, my hand resting on Hefdred’s hilt, hoping they’ll get the message and just bugger off. Thankfully they ain’t too slow on the uptake.
There’s others making their way inside ahead of us, while more carriages are rolling in behind us, as well as more than one palanquin, I notice, weird little boxes folk sit inside that large men carry between them on long poles. I get the impression these are for even richer folk than those who prefer to use carriages, although I really don’t understand the why behind that. Mostly it just seems vaguely ridiculous to me. There’s also nobles who seem to prefer to ride up on their own horses, and I find myself admiring that a lot more, if I’m honest. These seem like the folk that have their heads actually screwed on right.
As Shay smooths her skirts down again and adjusts the lie of her shawl, I raise my arm the way I seen done in the past, offering it up in such a way that, when she finally works out what I’m doing, gives a rather short nod and lays her own hand across my wrist. I give my own clipped nod in return and, as she lifts her chin high like Lady Naru instructed her before, start to lead the way up the stairs, conspicuously making the effort to help her up as we go.
‘Least she’s a lot better in the heels than I was expecting her to be. Maybe it’s just that inherent, uncanny grace in her elven blood, just kicking in automatic the moment her balance was threatened. I remember seeing her face fall when Lady Naru crafted the boots, seeing those four inch stilettos and starting to protest immediately, suddenly terrified cuz she’d never even tried wearing anything like that before. Way more’n the corset, definitely, ‘least once she had it on and realised it didn’t actually have to be laced up that tight after all. Ultimately I was the one who started having trouble with that, really having to work to keep my mind off what it was very obviously doing to her chest …
Ultimately, I think my conspicuous efforts to not look have actually helped me to get into character too. Instead I’m keeping my head on a wary swivel the whole time, watching everything going on round us with a stony face and sharp eye, while keeping my hand very comfortably planted on my sword the whole time. It may not look like Hefdred right now, but it still feels the same, and for me right now that means everything. The familiar touch of this cold, reliable steel and worn leather is doing wonders to keep me calm, and I know Shay’s taking heart from sensing that in me, vicarious-like.
The sky above is largely dark now, only a little warm colour left in the west now, and the air’s grown brisk, but it’s clear enough to me Shay ain’t feeling the cold, despite her relative exposure right now. Bred for the mountains up North, she’s comfortable enough here, at least. Even so, I still try to hustle us along a little quicker, mostly just feeling uncomfortably exposed despite our disguises seeming to hold up well enough, certainly given how those around us seem to be regarding her in particular. I’ve made out plenty of appreciative, lingering looks already as we climb, and once we join the group making its way inside she attracts more all the time. Lady Naru and Tulen definitely pulled off what they intended to.
That being said, I can still feel the stiffness in her, the nervous tension through her contact on my arm. She’s fighting the blush, at least, but I can tell how worked up she is all the same. Painfully aware of all the eyes on her, and deeply uncomfortable with this particular regard. But while my own appearance has definitely been altered, what regard I am picking up is a lot more wary, those who ain’t just making the expected call to just ignore me as part o’ the Help clearly calculating me as a threat. I don’t do anything to dissuade these regards, this is also doing exactly the job I was hoping it would.
As we pass through the main doors and an attendant steps forward after dealing with those ahead of us, I’m already reaching into my tunic to find the tickets. Plucking the envelope free, I flip it round to offer it up with a good, blank military stare, the kind that don’t look at the smaller man but conspicuously through him and a good distance beyond. This has exactly the desired effect, the well-groomed young man in the well-tailored silk-and-linen uniform snapping to attention as he focuses his attention closely on the envelope in my hand, reaching up and plucking it from my fingers with careful, deferential control. He opens it swiftly, taking just two quick beats to peruse what’s written within, and when his brows instantly shoot up I know Cafi Sirsk definitely came through in the clinch.
“Oh! Yes! Of course, my Lady, I am most honoured to make your acquaintance. By all means, please follow me.” Slipping the invitation back into the envelope, he returns it to me and, as I’m pocketing it again, clicks his fingers at one of his colleagues who immediately hustles to replace him. “This way, please.”
As we’re led up another, steeper flight of stairs, the main lobby of the Playhouse sweeps into view ahead of us, a vast, bright, glittering open expanse of more of that impossible gold leaf and polished wood and unfathomable yards of deep red carpet. There’s a massive hanging chandelier looming overhead maybe fifty feet up, brightly lit with what looks like thousands of candles, while the whole thing’s hung with a similarly dizzying amount of cut crystals intended to catch and magnify their light. Gods … just another baffling show of sheer opulence, looks like.
Some of the various richly-dressed, sleek, fattened and universally well-appointed nobles around us are already making their way up the staircases into the theatre itself, but just as many seem to be content to just mill about in this big open space. Chatting with one another, or just quietly, often arrogantly observing one another, like they’re making an especially deliberate effort to see one another and be seen in return. Social politics in action, just like I heard about. I’m still baffled by it all, I swear to the gods.
As we’re led diagonally through the group, heading towards the large double doors off to the right, a great many of those sharp-eyed, arrogant, wary or just plain calculating gazes turn to watch Shay glide past, and I just work hard to stare down every look I catch myself. We’re both being evaluated as we pass by, and I don’t like to think what they’re picking up.
The large guard stood by the doors perks up as we approach, his eyes just gliding across his colleague as the boy approaches, and immediately backs up to pull the doors open before stepping aside and giving a particularly noticeable bow to Shay. I try not to give her a nudge as I feel her stiffen, almost bowing back just through sheer instinct, but somehow she manages to catch herself in time so she just walks on past without visibly reacting to this generous deferment. Much more like a typical highborn would, of course.
From here on the road grows more familiar, at least. Turning left, the attendant starts to lead us up the slowly winding slope leading up to the box seats and the balcony above, what Lady Naru said were called the Gods, and while there are others making their way up around us these are a good deal fewer now. Quiet enough, now, that I start to relax just a little, but so far at least Shay seems to remain as tense as ever, even if she’s still making a good enough show of outward calm.
Eventually we reach the doors leading into the curving corridor for the box entrances themselves, and once again I see those same massive, stoic doormen standing by. But when the attendant gives them both another curt nod they both react noticeably docile, simply bowing low like the guard before one just steps aside while his partner opens the doors before doing the same. Letting us all through. I put on another stony blank military stare and go through, again trusting Shay to remain as aloof as she’s pretended so far. It seems to pass muster well enough, and then we’re through and it’s dark enough now I can trust at least the worst of any telltale clues to pass unnoticed in the relative gloom.
There are even more guards back here than there were earlier, I notice, but ‘least they seem a deal more distracted now, having a fair few more folk to be keeping track of as the boxes are filling up around us. The attendant leads us on without breaking stride, and soon enough we draw past the middle box, the one I notably remember belonged to Hontiresk himself. The doors are conspicuously closed, I see, meaning he’s likely already shut away inside.
Gubal’s stood right outside, I see. As we pass I see him look Shay over just like everyone else has already, and while he’s warily careful in his regard I’m sure I see the subtlest gleam of admiration in his look all the same, ‘least for a moment. Then he catches me looking back and I have just a moment of heat blooming deep within me as I feel the itch inside me, the desire to draw on him now, whether he actually recognises me or not. But of course he just sees a stranger, conspicuously regarding him as I might be, and soon enough he breaks contact and just starts examining whoever’s following us. By which time we’re already moving on anyway.
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The attendant finally guides us to a door two boxes down, and fishes in his pocket for a moment as he reaches the doors before producing a large, heavily-laden bunch of keys. He sorts through them for just a moment before unlocking the doors with a quick, easy stroke, and then fiddles with the bunch for a moment before proffering the now detached key up to me. I look down at it for a beat of my own before allowing my brow to quirk just a little, taking the key from him and giving him the subtlest deferential nod in return. He breaks out a brilliant smile and opens both doors with a flourish, then steps aside as he gestures within.
Stepping briskly away from Shay now, I stalk to the open doorway and lean in, giving the room beyond a cursory look round while flexing my sword hand, ready for anything. Mostly just keeping up appearances, really, I never really expected anything like an ambush here, there was no realistic chance of that so quick. So all I see is something almost exactly the same as what I remember in Hontiresk’s private box, right down to the same kind of décor and even another wet bar in the corner. So I pull back quickly and cock my brow at the attendant, who nods back before stepping inside, then beckon Shay to come inside. She frowns a little before complying, and I step aside to let her through before ducking in after, giving the corridor one last quick but wary look before I back up inside too.
The boy’s already produced a matchbox and struck one, with which he’s now making the rounds to light the candelabras at the back of the room, on either side of the door. Shay, meanwhile, is waiting for me close to the back row of seats, watching him work now with a more wary eye, as if she’s wondering how much longer he plans on remaining with us.
Clearing my throat, I step up to him, letting my hand settle on the hilt again as I do it. When I speak now I try to affect something like an Abharetian accent, hoping I can pass muster as someone from somewhere much further south in warmer, steamy climes so he’ll take my features more at face value. “Thank you, young man. That should suffice. I can take it from here.”
Shaking out the match just before it burns out between his fingers, he looks up at me now with a more complicated expression starting to cross his face, but it don’t seem like confusion or suspicion. More like frustration, maybe, like he expected more appreciation for his effort. He clears his throat now as he puts the matchbox back in its pocket. “Um … so you don’t require any further assistance at this time, then? Should you require anything else during the show I would be happy to –“
“No, thank you.” I keep my face stony as before, not letting my tone change any either, keeping my voice good and cold and seemingly entirely indifferent, like I couldn’t care less. “Should my Lady require anything further I’m sure I can attend to it myself.”
He blinks up at me for a beat, like he wants to protest, but propriety must win out in the end cuz he simply nods again and starts to back away. “Of course. Well, should you require assistance during the performance there will, of course, be someone outside at all times.” Now he bows again, lower than before, and through the corner o’ my eye I again see Shay stiffen just the tiniest bit as she fights hard to keep herself from responding in kind. I just keep my stare trained on the attendant as he finally backs up and finally leaves the room, then step up after and close both doors behind him.
Now, finally, I breathe out, barely managing to stop myself from leaning against the doors as I do it. “Fuck …” I breathe the word low as I fish in my pocket for the key, then lock up so we can have a little breathing space, finally backing up once I’m done.
“Oh my gods …” Shay hisses with a bit more aggression, and when I turn back she’s perching on the back of the seat behind her, almost like she started to collapse the moment we were finally alone. Her hands are at her head now as she lets it hang, breathing a lot heavier now, and I’m cautious as I step up to her, reaching out but stopping short before I can touch her, not sure if it’s really the best idea to actually touch her right now, much as I want to comfort her.
“Hey … look, we’re in. It worked. You did fucking great.”
“I felt like … oh my … fucking hell, it was all I could do not to throw up half a dozen times when we were coming in here. I was just … I feel ridiculous, I swear. I can’t believe that fucking worked, I was shaking and clammed up worse than a child trying to come up with the cleverest lie in the world. If anyone had actually asked me a question I think I might’ve just puked right in their face. Or just fainted on the spot.”
“Yeah? Well you could’ve fooled me, Shay. Far as I could tell you were in total control the whole bloody time. Even with all the nodding and bowing. You did a bloody fantastic job there, I know you wanted to bow right back every time.”
“That was definitely the worst of it.” she half-hisses, half-croaks, wiping her mouth now as she starts to push herself upright. “I thought he wouldn’t leave. That … if he’d insisted on sticking around, I mean –”
“If it had come to that I might have had to punch him out and stash him in the corner for the duration. I was really praying I wouldn’t have to, but …”
“Oh fuck …” She clamps both hands over her mouth now, starting to double over, and I rush forward the remaining few feet, taking hold of both her shoulders as I pull her close.
“Hey! Hey … chill, it’s all right.” I rub her back gentle and soothing, waiting for her urge to vomit to pass, hands locked on her knees. “I didn’t have to. He went, clearly bought it like a moron. It worked like a fucking charm, and we are exactly where we intended to be, so this first part is, like, a total roaring bloody success. We are currently kicking arse in this.”
She snickers at that, a little more hysterical than genuinely amused, I think. But it’s something, at least. I give her a little squeeze, and she’s starting to breathe a little easier now, and after a few more moments she seems calm enough it’s safe for me to let go. She stays put as I step back now, letting a deep sigh go as straightens up, brushing the hair from her face, and now her cheeks are flushed dark.
“I’m sorry.” she mutters, sounding crestfallen now. “I can’t believe I just … that was really unprofessional. I’m just … not used to this –”
“Hey, yeah, trust me, I get it. I feel like a bit of a clown too, I swear. And I know I’m s’posed to look pretty intimidating right now.” I head to the bar now, cracking my knuckles on both hands as I go.
“Oh yes, that’s definitely true. You really do.”
Picking out two of the tumblers, I pore over the cut crystal decanters for a moment as I try to work out what they actually are, then finally just pick one up, popping the cap off before taking a little whiff at the now open neck. Whiskey. That’ll do it. I pour a couple thick fingers into each glass and cap the bottle again, then carry both to Shay. I hold one out to her now. “Get this in you quick.”
“What?” She frowns deep as she looks at the tumbler, then up at me. “I don’t … but what about the job –”
“Da called it Fighter’s Courage. Trust me, it’ll help.”
Her frown tightens as she ponders the glass for a beat longer, than finally takes hold and gives it a deep sniff. Her brows perk right up at that, and when she looks up she seems to be searching my face, as if trying to work out if I’m having her on. When my face don’t change that must convince her, and she knocks the whole thing back in one quick swallow. She only coughs a little.
Putting my own glassful away with similar gusto, I bare my teeth at the appreciable, surprisingly complimentary burn as the spirits slide on down, strong without being overly intense, and I gotta admit I’m impressed by Hontiresk’s taste if nothing else. He sure don’t shortchange his guests when it comes to the booze, but then given the care he clearly takes in everything else I can’t say it’s any actual surprise.
“Oh … bloody hell.” Shay coughs again, this time just to clear her throat, and puts the glass down on one of the little wooden tables mounted on the arm of the nearest wide, padded chair. “Well that was … I’m still not convinced that was really smart.”
“Give it time to settle in. Trust me, one is not gonna put you on your arse, you’re in no danger o’ losing a step. That’ll just help you calm down.” I put my own tumbler down on the bar, than step round to the opening at the front of the box, stopping just short o’ the curtain so I can look out into the open space beyond without making myself overly visible to anyone who might be looking.
The big curtains are still closed, the house lights still up, while down below I can see the audience still filtering in, although from what I can see most o’ the seats below are now filled so I doubt it’'ll be much longer. Down in the orchestra pit the musicians are already starting to warm up, that same somewhat tuneless sawing, rising-and-falling not-music permeating the air surprisingly clearly from all the way up here. That being said, the general blended hubbub of the crowd below is just as strong, filling the chamber far more than I would’ve expected, which speaks volumes for the impressive acoustics of the chamber as a whole. But then I understand that’s also the point.
The way the boxes are set up, it’s not that easy to see into any of the others, so when I lean a little more to try and get a glimpse of Hontiresk a few down in his own private space all I can see is curtains and relative gloom. But I don’t doubt he’s there all the same, and I hope he’s still entirely oblivious to our presence.
“All right …” Shay’s already wrapping her shawl the way she planned on before we left when I turn back. Working it over one shoulder and under the corresponding arm, then the other way, so that she can cover her cleavage up now she no longer needs it. While there’s a small part o’ me feels disappointed, definitely sorry to see that particular view go, I really can’t blame her, I know how uncomfortable it made her. “Now what?”
“Looks like we’re waiting. They’re still coming in. Maybe another ten or fifteen minutes before the lights go down an’ the curtains open. Naru said give it another twenty minutes beyond that before we try and move.” I step away from the opening now, heading back towards her. “Call it half an hour, all in. Y’all right with that?”
That just makes her frown again. “Fuck no. That sounds stupid long. I‘d rather get down there now, this waiting around isn’t doing us any good. Gael could be …” She breaks off with an angry hiss and cinches the knot just under the centre of her chest, then gives up and perches on the arm of the chair behind her. “Shit … you’re right. I’m just … I guess I’m worked up still.”
Stepping up to her now, I let my arm settle round her shoulders and lean in as I giver her another fond little squeeze. “No, it’s cool, I get it. I’m frustrated too. But this is the way we gotta play it. The others are still gonna be working their own ways into place anyway, moving right now wouldn’t do anything but tip our hand way before it’s time.”
“Exactly. I’m just being an impatient idiot. Once again I think about Gael down there, and …”
Nodding, I give her another little squeeze, then reach into the small o’ my back and slip one of my knives free. Nine inches of very sharp steel, fresh-honed and ready to go. Carefully turning it round in my fingers, I offer it to her now. “Here. Might as well have this now.”
Again her brows raise as she looks up at me now. “Oh! Thank you.” She looks down at it now, don’t take it right away, raising her hand but seeming to ponder for a long beat before finally curling her fingers round the hilt. When I let go she turn s it over in her hand, inspecting it with a close, keen eye, and after a moment she finally starts to smile. “Yeah, I think this’ll do.”
“Course it will.” Slipping the other one free, I hold this out too. “So you might as well go all the way.”
Now her smile turns into a full-blown grin, and it makes me so happy to see it. “Yes. Don’t mind if I do.” This time she don’t hesitate at all as she takes hold, immediately turning this one to inspect it too, and I step away from her now so I can finally draw Hefdred again. Even though I gave the blade a particularly thorough clean and the usual cursory pass-over with the whetstone before we left, I wanna take one last look before we get to business. Just for my own peace of mind. Besides, while all we can do right now is wait, it feels damn good to have my weapon in my hand. Ready for what’s to come …