Of Plots and Mischief

Chapter 3: An unexpected meeting

It was too soon, Phyllon thought. He had expected the duo to approach them once they realised they were their best and perhaps only option, but he had expected he would have more time. They made their way to one of the finer boarding houses in the port town where the Prince and the ambassador were staying. It was nice enough, but it was not the most extravagant in Parinov. He knew from his own past stays there and knew the proprietor was a trustworthy fellow. He felt a growing respect for the ambassador's judgement, as he suspected that he was the one responsible for the choice.

The proprietor nodded at them as they entered, handing them a key with a lowered voice. "They are waiting for you in the second room on the left. I'll be bringing you refreshments myself in a while."

Phyllon smiled genuinely at that. "Thank you, Naail. You are the best."

Captain Drwyn coughed politely before giving Phyllon an amused look. They both knew he was procrastinating, but he felt he was justified. He knew he would eventually agree to take them once he asked his grandfather and father for advice, but he did not want to deal with the confrontation that was inevitable before that.

"Do you have a plan?" Captain Drwyn asked, under his breath as they approached the door.

"We don't make any decisions today. This is just information gathering."

The room was familiar to Phyllon, having frequently been there with his father to meet with their clients. At first glance, it did not look much, with the plain decor and simplicity, but those in the know had always preferred it for discreet meetings. Phyllon found his eyes moving towards the false panelling that marked the entrance to a hidden bolthole and glanced over at the ambassador who was watching him with marked interest.

He looked far more relaxed, in plain clothes, which would have helped him blend in with the ordinary Livijovian travellers in the region. True, it was impossible to hide his predatory glance or dangerous aura, but it only made him look like a guard for some rich trader or a mercenary.
They took a seat, the captain pausing a beat until after Phyllon sat down. The ambassador did not miss it, and his gaze sharpened, studying Phyllon more closely. Phyllon smiled pleasantly before eyeing the apparent distance between the prince and the ambassador. At a glance, it looked like they were at odds, but stretching out his Gift, he did not get the feeling.

The ambassador leaned forward, a conscious, inviting gesture as though he was about to share confidence. Phyllon watched as the captain unconsciously mirrored him, leaning slightly forward.

"So," he drew out. "You're the captain of the Pallainne, Captain...Krvath?"

Phyllon hid a wince as he felt the captain's distaste spike at the incorrect address. "Captain Drwyn," the captain corrected. It was something he always insisted upon, but Phyllon never found out why.

"Right. Captain Drwyn." He drawled, letting it fill the air between them.

"Yes, Ambassador Jarvis," the captain replied smoothly. "I am the captain of the Pallainne."
The ambassador's eyes narrowed at that. "Ah, so you recognise me. I suppose this will make our negotiations easier."

Captain Drwyn merely raised an eyebrow, not bothering to respond. Phyllon could feel that the captain found the ambassador's arrogance a bit off-putting, but he could feel that it was a mask. What was he playing at, he wondered?

They were interrupted as Naail entered the room with the refreshments. He placed a cup before them all before leaning to whisper to Phyllon. "Yours is your usual. Let me know if you want anything else." Phyllon thanked him, knowing it was a code for letting him know that he would be listening for the emergency signal if he needed any help.