Castrol's eyes snapped to hers, his mind racing. She was the perfect person to get information from, someone who moved in the shadows of nobility yet was not bound by their strictures. "Actually, I was wondering if I could get something more than a drink," he began, his voice a bit too eager, causing her to tilt her head in curiosity. He stumbled over his words, trying to compose a coherent sentence. "I mean, I'd love to know your name, it's just, with all the chaos in the city, it's nice to find some beauty amidst the...uh, shadows." He winced internally, cringing at his poor choice of words.

The woman, however, threw her head back and laughed, the sound of her mirth a welcome reprieve from the tavern's oppressive atmosphere. "Call me Ali," she said, setting the tray down with a clatter. "And what is it that you're looking for, handsome?"

Castrol took a deep breath, willing his racing heart to steady. This was it, his opening. He leaned in, his voice low and earnest. "I'm Castrol, the village chief of Barley," he said, watching for any flicker of recognition in her eyes. "and, whatever it is you're selling, I'm interested."

Ali's smile faded, and for a moment, her eyes searched his, looking for the truth behind his words. Then, with a shrug that seemed to say she'd heard it all before, she reached for a mug from the tray. "What'll it be, then?" she asked, her voice devoid of the playfulness from before. "Whiskey, ale, or perhaps a bit of the house special?"

Castrol's ears perked up at the mention of the house special. It was a term often used to denote something not found on the usual menu, something that spoke of secrets and hidden deals. He leaned in closer, his hand sliding a silver coin across the table. "I'm in the mood for something... unique," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. "What does Eire's have that's not for everyone's tastes?"

Ali's eyes gleamed as they followed the coin, and she picked it up with a practiced flick of her wrist. "Ah, you've come to the right place, Cassey, can i call you Cassey?" she said, her smile turning sly. "But for what you're looking for, I think we need a bit more privacy." She leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "Follow me."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and weaved through the crowd, her movements as graceful as a gazelle's. Castrol had no choice but to follow, his curiosity piqued by the promise of what lay beyond the chaos of the tavern floor. The stairs creaked underfoot, the walls closing in around him as they ascended to the upper level. The air grew thicker with each step, the scent of old wood and forgotten dreams mingling with the aroma of spilled ale.

Ali pushed open one of a host of unassuming doors that lined the narrow hallway, revealing a small, dimly lit chamber. A single candle flickered on a dusty table, casting erratic shadows that danced upon the walls. The room was sparsely furnished, with a threadbare chair and a battered chest that looked as if it had been plucked from the bowels of a pirate ship. It was a stark contrast to the opulent halls of Sovereign's nobility, yet the secrets it held were likely more valuable than any treasure chest.

"Take a seat," she said gesturing to the bed, her eyes gleaming in the candlelight. Castrol did as he was told, the bed groaning in protest beneath his weight. Ali set the tray down with a clatter, her movements precise and efficient as she began to unbutton her shirt. Castrol's eyes widened, his mind racing with questions and confusion. Was this a trap? A ploy?

Her smile grew knowing as she read his thoughts. "It's been a while since we've had guests like you two in the morning," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "Especially ones with silver to spare."

Okay, so maybe it wasn't a trap, a ploy...

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Castrol cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unease that had settled in his gut. "Before all that, i actually have something I'd like to discuss," he said, his voice steady despite the racing of his heart. "It's... of the utmost importance."

Ali paused, her hands on the buttons of her dress, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is that so?" she asked, her smile turning coy. "Well, what's a little business before pleasure, right?" With a grace that seemed almost unnatural, she lifted her dress to reveal a set of long, shapely legs and perched herself on Castrol's lap, the fabric pooling around them like a warm embrace. "What is it that you want to talk about, Cassey?"

Castrol's face grew hot, but he forced his thoughts to stay on task. He took a deep breath, willing his mind to focus on the mission at hand. "I need information on the nobles," he said, his voice tight. "I've heard quite a bit and i just want to know what a man has to do to get in on it."

Ali's eyes searched his, the mirth in them replaced by a sharp glint of understanding. She shrugged and slid off his lap with a knowing smile. "Oh, it's that kind of meeting," she said, standing up with a fluid grace that belied the exhaustion he had seen in her earlier. "Well, you've come to the right place for whispers, but they don't come cheap, especially not from me."

Castrol reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch, the clink of silver coins inside echoing through the quiet room. He set it on the table with a thunk that seemed to shake the very air. "I'm willing to pay," he said firmly, his hand resting on the pouch as if to emphasize his seriousness. "Whatever it takes to know what's happening in this city."

Ali's eyes flickered to the purse and back to Castrol's. For a moment, she seemed to weigh the value of the coins against the potential danger of speaking out of turn. Then, with a shrug, she picked up the pouch and weighed it in her hand, the silver a comforting warmth against her palm. "You're a man who's not afraid to part with his coin," she said, a hint of admiration in her voice. "What do you wanna know?"

Castrol leaned in, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm new to the city's nobility," he began, the lie rolling off his tongue with surprising ease. "What are the... let's say, the social norms that a man in my position would need to be aware of?"

Ali's eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze sharp as a knife's edge. "A noble man through and through huh?" she asked, her voice still carrying that seductive lilt. "Well, let me enlighten you, Cassey. Before that priest rolled in and the world went to shit, we had our fair share of parties and gatherings. Nothing too grand, mind you, but enough to keep the gossip mills turning."

Castrol nodded, his curiosity growing. "Priest?" he prompted, his voice a mix of eagerness and wariness.

Ali's smile grew, and she leaned against the table, her hands resting lightly on the pouch of coins. "Yeah, Tobi or something i don't know." she said, her voice a playful purr. "Since he rolled in the nobles have been acting more like themselves y'know."

Her words were a puzzle, and Castrol leaned in, eager to solve the mystery. "How do you mean?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for any hint of the truth.

"They're not like the rest of us," Ali said, her gaze flicking to the tavern below, where the patrons were already growing rowdy with the promise of free drink. "They don't laugh like they're about to die, or drink like they've lost everything. They're... different."

"Do you know why?" Castrol pressed, his hand tightening around the folds of the blanket lining the bed.

Ali leaned against the windowsill, her eyes drifting to the bustling streets of Sovereign. "I don't know It's like they're... happy about something," she said, her voice trailing off. "Ever since they started with those glorified tea parties."

Castrol raised an eyebrow. "Tea parties?"

Ali nodded, her expression grim. "Yeah, tea parties," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But these ain't your granny's afternoon socials, Cassey. These are the kind of shindigs that make or break alliances, the kind that scream 'we're rich so fuck you!'."

Castrol's interest was piqued. "Do you know when the next one's happening?"

Ali's smile grew knowing. "As a matter of fact, I do," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "There's one tonight, At Jack's, Doherty. The man i serviced this morning"

"Great, thanks!" Castrol said, trying to keep his excitement in check as Ali began buttoning her shirt back up.

"...what are you doing?" Castrol asked, his voice tinged with mischief as he pulled out another pouch of coins from his pocket. Ali's eyes widened slightly before she smirked, understanding the game he was playing.

I guess a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do.

-To Be Continued-