Off-beat, the metal-glass door clicks closed behind us. Three sets of inquisitive eyes follow.
Sebastian Cossa is a towering figure. Soulsteel sword at his side, straight-backed, tight-jawed, lean yet strong, with a smoldering yet soft gaze, along with short black hair and deep blue eyes.
For some reason, he was staring out into the distant scenery before turning toward us. Corny, quite frankly. But it certainly fits his character.
Then there's Gabriel Lomberg, Cossa's duplicitous shadow. He faces us, standing at Cossa's side, imitating an almost perfect mirror of him. Gabriel honestly looks like his little brother—a bit shorter. Though his dirty-blonde hair and strange red-black eyes don't really work with that aesthetic.
But worst of all is Maximilian Stamkos, the Thunderbolt. Like all in his faction, he wears his smugness on his sleeve. Though that's mostly an upper noble thing—albeit, Leara does seem to break that mold.
The lithe, blonde-haired, green-eyed lackey sits at a nearby circular table with his feet propped up and his wooden chair tilted on two legs. Some poker cards appear spread on the table, though it doesn't appear like a game was played.
"Valeria!" Maximilian cheerfully exclaims. "How good it is to see you. It's been some time." He looks at me—a tinge of repulsion at my sight undermines his superficial cheeriness. "And you've made a friend. Wow. I'm very impressed."
Valeria replies with nothing but a silent lip twitch that borders on fang-baring. She always chooses the right time to make intelligent, restrained decisions. We're far better off if she lets me talk. Knowing her disdain for The Game, I'm certain she prefers it that way.
"Seems like quite the party," I open up the floor. This is definitely not a party. Cossa and Gabriel are tense, and it's Maximillian's fault. Our arrival has exacerbated it, but he bears most of the blame.
"Letting a lesser talk for you?" Maximillian smirks as he eyes the angered Valeria. "I swear, it's always the most outspoken bigots. Humans do love their forbidden fruit. Don't tell me it's like that too, because that would be so—"
"Silence." Cossa cuts through, cool, calm, collected, and controlling, hands behind his back. This is his tower, his territory. "Who are you?"
"Auren of Ovine," I tire of repeating. "Valeria Drysdale and I are here on behalf of Leara Mateiko."
"So… that whore finally does something," Maximillian murmurs, his head tilted in thought. "What a nonce."
Valeria jolts, stepping forward with a grip on her sword. I outstretch my arm and nudge her backward—that doesn't move her at all, the brutish stone wall that she is, but she takes the hint and stops.
"You will speak with respect in Leader Cossa's presence, goodman." Gabriel finally interjects. His first act of business: buttering up to his cash cow. "Frankly, your demeanor in these discussions has been quite uncouth, Mr. Stamkos."
It's like I have X-ray vision. To me, Gabriel's mask is so hollow that it's almost non-existent. The others are somehow entirely duped by this farce. He's such a ridiculous charlatan that his deceptions come off as satire.
His face would pale if he glimpsed my catalog of facades. Not that it's a competition, of course.
"Enough," Cossa steps into the middle of the room. It's finality.
Maximillian sits up, then palms his forehead. "Ugh, you lessers are such buzzkills."
Fuck, he's buzzed? Is he serious? They have alcohol? What don't they have up there, in that high castle? This is bullshit. I'm wallowing in shit sober while they're up there partying. They probably have hookers and blow up there too. I really chose the wrong side.
"Step out, Maximillian, if you will," Cossa commands. "It seems I have some business with these newcomers."
"My business was just about over with anyway," Maximillian scrapes the poker cards off the table, organizing them before placing them into his pocket. He straightens his clean black-red uniform and strolls toward the exit.
Endangered warns me as he approaches. I can smell the mischief on him regardless.
"Guess I'll be seeing you…" Maximillian outstretches his arm, looking to brush it against me. "…Auren of—"
I grab his wrist before it connects. He's taken aback.
Rippling lightning crackles from his palm and fingertips, scorching the air. between us.
I squeeze till his face scrunches from the pain.
Lightning and smugness die simultaneously as he eyes me discerningly. Intrigue turns to anger. After another silent moment, I let go.
Maximillian strangely straightens his uniform with an embellished flick once more. "Fucking lesser…" he sneers before leaving.
I wait for the door to fully shut before turning back to Cossa.
Then my eyes are invaded by the forward shifting Gabriel.
"Set your swords down," he steps forward, tightly clutching the hilt of his sheathed blade. "Then we'll talk."
Is this fucker serious?
I flash a disapproving look at Valeria, who echoes it with a disapproving shake of her head.
"We'll hold on to them, if you don't mind. There'll be no trouble," I say. "Unless we need to use them. Do we?"
"Maybe," Gabriel takes a step forward, letting a bit of metal out of his sheath. "Since you want to be so hostile."
"Stand. Down." Cossa's words cut through like a blade of ice. They're angrier than before. I would be too, if everyone were so insubordinate despite my domineering presence.
I think Cossa is confident that he and Gabriel could handle us, so our swords pose no real threat. Naive as always.
Gabriel nods eagerly at the command and steps back. The bastard overreacted on behalf of Cossa, then energetically complied to demonstrate just how leashed he is. Knowing his character beforehand really makes seeing his false glazing all too obvious. It's disgusting.
"I apologize," Sebastian Cossa bows his head slightly.
"No need. I understand." All too well. These are certainly uncertain circumstances.
Not only for the test itself, but for Cossa's intentions. His desires.
The only way I can win him over is by first understanding his motives. Then I need to pull off the herculean task of getting a leg up on the Landeskog faction in that area. Thankfully, Maximillian seems to be fumbling negotiations a bit.
Cossa eyes me strangely for a moment. He looks at Valeria a bit as well. I can only guess that he's wondering why I'm Leara's mouthpiece over a top-ranked, respected, upper noble.
"A seat, then?" he points to the vacant card table.
I nod in reply.
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A/N:
Daddy's home. Thanks for all the collections and your patience. College starts in a week, but my schedule should be lax enough.