Nolan appreciated that she knew exactly what role to play despite the fact that he’d yet to tell her his intentions of having her come here. She had been observing the entire situation from afar, so she was already up to date on what was happening.
“Hello, miss,” said Connick, who casually approached her and grabbed her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Connick Sorus, chamberlain of Merchant Lord Varus.” He kissed her hand in a romantic yet respectable fashion, which she allowed with a playful gaze.
“My name is Avril. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I was just telling the two ladies here that they’re more than welcome to stay for the banquet that I’ll be hosting here tonight, and I would be happy if you could stay as well.”
This guy’s got some balls, thought Nolan, who caught himself grinding his teeth. He’s totally trying to wheel right now. To think that Connick would openly attempt to pilfer the girls of the group, flattering one in the presence of the others. He clearly thought highly of himself and didn’t care for the opinions of Nolan and the other guys who, for all he knew, were romantically involved with some of the girls that he was hitting on.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Giving the man a respectful nod, May added, “I’ll be infringing on your hospitality then.”
“Marvellous,” smiled Connick, who looked over at the rest of the group as if they were an eyesore. “I have to thank you again for your understanding. Unfortunately, my servants will be arriving any minute, so I’ll have to ask you lot to be on your way.”
“Oh, of course,” said Nolan, fighting to keep his voice level. “If there’s nothing else, then we’ll be leaving now.”
He and the others bid farewell to Nyla, Lyra and May, before promptly exiting the room and then making their way out of the building.
“What the hell was that?” snapped Sean, who was visibly irritated. “I’m so frustrated right now.”
“Why did they stay behind?” asked Esteban, whose eyes told that he truly felt sorry for Nolan. “Does Nyla like that guy?”
Nolan took a moment to cast a basic concealment arrayment that prevented anyone outside of its influence from hearing anything within its boundaries, though only those up to the third level of Genesis. “They’re trying to dig information out of him.”
“I still don’t like it,” said Ian. “The way he looked at my sister, it’s like he was asking me to hit him.”
“How do you think I feel? He swindled both of my women.”
“Why did we let that happen, though? Can’t we just ask around about the CMA ourselves?”
“As much as I hate it, this is the better option. This entire city is owned by the CMA, so I’m sure they’ll notice if a bunch of new faces are asking around about their organization. Besides, that guy’s boss is coming here soon. If a chamberlain can have multiple genesis-staged cultivators by his side, then I’d imagine a merchant lord would have even stronger body guards.”
“Nolan’s right,” sighed Sean. “It’s not a good idea to start swinging blindly in the dark. “We need to learn more about the people we’re dealing with here.”
“I still don’t like it,” growled Ian. “Ah, I need to get drunk.”
“You an’ me both, kid. Not like we have anything else to do anyway, seeing as how we’ve got no place to sleep tonight.”
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While Sean and Ian continued to grumble and complain, Nolan contacted May and made sure that she kept her wits about her. The reason he’d called to the room was so that she could look after Nyla and Lyra, what with her being at the fifth level of Genesis and all. Even so, he told her to be wary of the possibility of undetectable poisons or unexpected traps, urging her not to eat or drink anything while she was there. If the other girls seemed sick in any way, she was to grab hold of them and leave the premises immediately.
In response, May made him promise to spend one of the coming days with her, just as he had with Nyla, and told him that there would be consequences if he went back on the arrangement.
They found a quaint tavern on the opposite side of town from where they had been staying, luckily arriving in time to take the last seat at the patio area, which was covered by a large canopy of thick blue felt. Nolan made sure to deactivate his arrayment just before they arrived, so as not to draw any more attention than necessary, and was quick to order a drink as soon as they took a seat.
“Sometimes I think it’s a good thing to not be pretty,” said Aine, whose honest eyes betrayed a bit of self-consciousness at having been ignore by Connick. “Everywhere we go, people are always leering at the other girls. It must be unpleasant.”
Alicia went to say something, but Esteban was first to respond. “What are you saying? You’re pretty too.”
“You’re just a kid,” she sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m only two years younger than you!”
The girl covered her mouth, stifling an abrupt laugh. “Sorry, I keep on forgetting that you recently turned 13.”
“Stupid ring,” muttered the boy, who wilted under the look that Nolan gave him at the mention of his secret.
They continued to grumble about Connick for the remainder of the evening, growing less discreet in their criticisms as they dug deeper into their cups.
“What a world,” Sean was saying, his smooth face flushed from inebriation. “That guy’s like 40, and he’s trying to hook up with teenagers.”
“What’s so strange about that?” said Ian, genuinely curious. “They’re all women at this point, aren’t they?”
“In our world he’d be labelled a creep for life and he’d be in jail getting some glove love from his cellmate. Goddamn Connick. Who the hell does he think he is?”
“I wish I could have seen your world,” muttered Ian, whose eyes were wide with imaginations. “I’d—”
A short man slipped a tiny piece of paper onto their table in passing, his face completely shrouded by the heavy hood of his dark cloak. He’d placed it right in front of Ian, who picked it up and read the contents with a raised eyebrow.
“What’s it say?” asked Esteban, voicing the question that they all wanted to ask.
Ian kept quiet and passed the note around the table. Once it reached Nolan, he considered its words with a cautious mind.
Greetings to the esteemed cultivators,
My master, the Consul of Tallgate, invites you to visit his villa at your earliest convenience. He wishes to discuss business, but this is a sensitive matter so the utmost discretion is required. I’ll be waiting outside of the establishment for the rest of the night, should you agree to the meeting.
“Well, that’s a bit random, isn’t it?” muttered Sean. “What do you guys think this is all about?”
“Only one way to find out,” said Nolan, who downed the rest of his drink and then stood up from his chair. “At least it gives us something to do, eh?”
Esteban wore a freckled frown. “What if it’s a trap, though? It’s always a trap, isn’t it?”
Nolan shrugged, flagging down the girl that had been serving them and tossing her a spatial bag with a generous amount of spirit stones. “Then we’ll deal with it.”
His friends seemed more interested than worried, so they all agreed that they might as well see what there was to see. They found the cloaked man idling by an alleyway just outside of the tavern, looking every bit like the man that would knife somebody for their coin purse. As soon as he spotted them on the sleek, white-tiled streets, he hurried over with purpose to his step.
“Hello, esteemed cultivators. I take it you’ve decided to meet with my master?”
“That depends,” said Nolan, who summoned a tiny bit of Divine Spirit Fountain water from his spatial bag and used it to wipe away a wine stain that had splattered both his white tunic and the black brocade vest that he wore over it. “Where does he want to meet us, and why?”
“Also,” added Sean, “what’s a consul? Does it mean he’s in charge of the city?”
The man’s pear-shaded eyes darted around with angst. “Please, let’s keep our talking to a minimum for now. The streets have eyes and ears of their own in this city, and it’s not safe to openly discuss our arrangement.”
The man distributed spatial bags to each of them, all of which contained 10,000 ordinary spirit stones.
“I was instructed to give these to you in the event that you accepted the invitation. A token of goodwill from my master.”