𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞

𝐅 𝐈 𝐅 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐍

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐊𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐬

Even dressed in silks and embellished with a glittering string of diamonds across her neck, a serpent is still a serpent. Madame Silene, the finest serpent of them all, sits across from Briéa. She's both poised and relaxed as her eyes shift back and forth between Briéa and Reihan.

They ride for Kastos. On foot, the city is half a day away. The Makorov mares that pull the carriage can make the trip in barely two hours.

So far Reihan and Madame Silene have made easy conversation, Briéa's hardly caught any of it. She's been watching the sentinels that flank them, dressed in Makorov silver and each mounted atop a muscled mare. Briéa's never been much of a rider. She learned as a child but hasn't had much use for it since. But the idea of riding one of those renowned horses is thrilling. She wonders if she might be able to convince Silene to let her saddle one up and experience it herself.

"You know Briéa, emerald is a rather splendid color on you." Briéa looks away from the window to Silene. The woman holds her chin in one hand, eying the outfit that was sent to the Arcane earlier that morning.

The green is dark and trimmed with silver thread, the Makorov mark. Madame Silene insisted on a pair of black boots, ones that would match Reihan's, but Briéa refused to relinquish the scuffed brown pair she's grown attached to. Briéa smiles under the matriarch's vaguely scrutinizing stare.

"I suppose." Her fingers graze over the silver lining on the sleeve. "But I do prefer crimson." Madame Silene laughs.

"Might as well let you parade your little knife around, no dear, we can't let the entirety of court know who I've invited into my home." Reihan laughs politely, but the air in the carriage has started to turn stiff.

Briéa figured she would be taking up an alias for the trip to Kastos. Nothing that could tie her back to being a mystic, to the Syndicate, to the Crimson Reaper. But she didn't realize she would be barred from even wearing red.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because, Miss Terrano, anyone smart would take the first chance they have to steal you away with their grubby hands."

Briéa laughs. "And what is it you're doing?"

If anything, that sounds precisely what Silene is trying to do. Briéa just can't figure out what for. What does she have that the matriarch already doesn't? It wouldn't surprise her if she learned Silene had her own secret legion of mystics sworn to her, makes no sense for the Makorov's to be after her gift. Certainly not her money, she's hardly got any to her name. No connections or friends in high places, especially once she leaves Areon.

Slowly, Madame Silene slides her tongue over her lips. "I'm simply trying to better understand my partners."

"We're not partners."

"No? You work Ennell, so, in a way that does make us partners Briéa." Silene leans forward, close enough that Briéa can smell hints of incense on her skin. "And I do still believe you'll make for rather lively company."

Reihan pokes Briéa with her elbow. "Don't worry Briéa, Madame Silene has plenty of butchers of her own to do her bidding. She's not trying to recruit you." Madame Silene laughs now.

Any tension that existed is gone now, Reihan not even needing to use her magic to dispel the ice in the air.

Instead of looking back out the window, Briéa joins the conversation. Silene spends nearly half the trip gushing about the château. It's been in the Makorov family for generations. "Just such a splendid thing, and oh," she excitedly puts a hand on Reihan's knee, "you, dear, will absolutely love the ballroom. Maybe even more than all the dukes and lords I have no doubt will be crawling over one another to dance with you."