The Red Veil existed nestled between two large stone buildings within the most opulent part of the Heart. While the stores that sold jewelry, perfumes, clothing and exotic foods had flamboyant displays to attract customers, the Red Veil barely had a sign above its front entrance. In fact, it barely had a front entrance as its fine red door was deep inside a tunnel, the entry of which was half obscured by neighboring shops eager to take up more space to advertise their goods.

Because the Red Veil sat underground, it felt as if it was perpetually night once one passed through the red doors. The small wooden tables scattered around were dimly lit by rune lanterns. Orbs of decorative lighting hung above a large dark wood bar where a bartender was always there to serve. It was dark, quiet and perpetually felt as if the blanket of night was washed over the world and willing to keep whatever secrets you wanted to whisper in its dark corners or private rooms.

He couldn’t afford to stall at the door to stave off his discomfort. This was the Heart: there were eyes in the walls and ears at your feet. Ever since that Gate opened many many years ago that took Aris’s grandfather’s life, covert forces have increased around the emperor’s capital. People were convinced these extra precautions have prevented further Gates in the Heart for two decades. It was fine for people to believe this misconception. Camaz pushed open the red door and let it swing close behind him, cutting off the sounds of life. It was only late morning and so the bar was empty.

He smiled at the bartender, Einta, who immediately started pouring out a glass of wine for him without him requesting anything. Einta continued wiping glasses and did other inconspicuous bartender things while Camaz barely sipped his drink. A few moments later, Einta nods at him and Camaz takes his glass of wine with him to one of the back rooms. He didn’t notice how Einta had announced his presence - he’s never figured it out.

The room they usually used was the smallest of the private rooms with a wide curved bench meant for four, maybe five people. A low table in the middle provided space for drinks or food. A huge painting of the emperor’s castle hung behind the bench, lit with rune lanterns fixed into the wall. If the room was built two stories above where it is and had a window where the painting was, it would have a very similar view of the emperor’s residence. Maybe with a few more trees in the way. But unfortunately it was firmly underground and dark. Orrna lounged on the curved bench, slippered foot resting on the table.

“My favorite professor is here,” Orrna said, shifting forward and making her long dress rustle. Like most noblewomen, Orrna only wore the latest in fashion which meant lengths of fine silk embroidered with gold thread. Of course, they only wore clothing with warm colors like red, yellow and orange - Orrna almost exclusively wore shades of red, down to her makeup. Of course the cursed dim lighting didn’t show color very well in its rune-produced yellow glow. Camaz assumed she was wearing red. The metal clasp just under her right shoulder glittered with gems.

“Did Moulu get lost or did he lose the time?” Camaz sat at the other end of the curved bench across from Orrna.

“Not everyone is as punctual as you,” Orrna said. “Perhaps it is character fault. Or perhaps he thinks it makes him more unpredictable, understandable considering his job.”

“Ah yes, the defining feature of an agent: the inability to tell time,” Camaz said. He gave the woman an amused look. “Just because you think he can warm your bed doesn’t mean you have to baby him.”

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Orrna’s previously pleasant demeanor, probably from drink or smoke, hardened and she sat up straighter to give Camaz a cold look. “You have a better chance of luring him to bed than I am. Of course, knowing that would require you to give a shit about the lives of the little birds that sing to you. Apologies, you don’t have such a good track record in taking care of things.”

“If you have something to say about Aris, you can say it to my face,” Camaz said evenly. Orrna could say anything she wanted, none of it would affect him. It wouldn’t be anything he hasn’t already told himself. He felt something flicker in the Great Solvent, then something akin to fingers prodding at his Solute. He let Orrna do as much prodding as she wanted.

“If she dies because you can’t handle a teenager’s attitude, it’ll be insulting enough,” Orrna finally said dismissively, withdrawing her probing from his solute.

Camaz snorted: that really was the extent of her Inner Eye abilities. It was useful for her purposes: getting men drunk or excited in her establishment and letting them talk. Feeling how they felt and empathizing with their situation. Say the right things when the mood is right. It was not nearly as effective as squeezing information out of others, something that Orrna knew perfectly well that Camaz was able to do. So instead of more insults, they got down to business to fill the time while waiting for Moulu.

Orrna mostly had gossip concerning the nobles that went in and out of the Red Veil. She told him how there is speculation in the emperor’s court that he is deepening ties with the Kuvanian king, both financially and politically. This was, of course, to no surprise to anyone as the Kuvans had always posed as the nation that would ‘fix’ the Gate problem spreading across the empire. The Kuvans give blind promises to a problem everyone else could see was complex and alien.

In return, Camaz gave her what he knew about what the Academy planned to do regarding their manus students. It wasn’t exactly accurate information since nobody in the island knew exactly what they should be doing. There are plenty of manpower at Gates but when the monsters start terrorizing the village it appears at, there isn’t much they could do to stop it. The fact of the matter is that they need to find a way to close the Gate and nobody can get close enough for long enough to figure out how.

Moulu finally arrived much later than agreed. He was out of breath, panting, mid-length hair in disarray. Camaz gave him a look but the tardy spy simply snagged his glass of wine and drained it while stepping on and over the low table to collapse into the seat between Camaz and Orrna.

“I’m part-fucking know I’m late, go screw yourself,” Moulu said in his raspy voice.

Annoyed, Camaz slipped into the Solvent and reached Moulu's solute, ready to just make him squeal. The man slammed a fist on the back of the curved bench, the impact shaking Camaz out of concentration.

“If you poke around in there, I’ll leave,” Moulu warned.

“Didn’t think you had any secrets between you,” Orrna said, words sly.

“What kind of idiot would think Camaz would even give the time of day to see anyone if there wasn’t a secret to uncover?” Moulu said. “He would drop us the second we have nothing else left to give. Take that piece of information and slip it between your cleavage, madam.”

Orrna rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, if we’re all done with the tough man talk. Surely you have something more interesting to say than how much you think Camaz is a piece of shit.”

“Fine.” Moulu leaned forward and pinned Camaz with a probing stare. “There’s something going on out east. Villagers talking about a girl that can turn into a ghost. Do you know anything about that?”