𝕾𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖉𝖘 - 𝙺𝚊𝚣 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚔𝚔𝚎𝚛

II

Mira touches her knives, but tries to keep her composure, something she's learned is just as important as being able to back up her threats. "What business?"

The person turns, and she sees it's a female. She's calmer, but not quite at rest. "I need someone dead."

Mira places her mug on the shelf that holds her jacket. "Who?"

"Kaz Brekker." The woman crosses her arms, her hood is down and Mira can see her face, even if the single candle casts shadows on it. If Mira's pale, this girl is carved from marble and ivory. Her hair is red like a coiled snake sitting atop her head. The light making her look almost ethereal. But not like an angel. There are none of those left in this godforsaken city.

She scoffs. "I don't suppose you'll give me a reason?"

The woman remains silent.

"Tell Pekka he can shove it up his ass." She takes out a knife. "Now get out of my home before I have to do something that I'll enjoy."

Her face hardens. "He won't like that answer. You'll be looking over your shoulder and sleeping with one eye open."

Mira laughs at the threat. She's had worse said to her by half-drunk pigeons. "You got balls, I mean it makes sense. Have to be strong to make it in the gangs. But my answer remains the same. So unless you want to end up like your pal, scram."

The girl huffs and brushes past Mira. "You'll regret this. Death comes for everybody."

Good thing I lost that fear a long time ago. The door shuts and Mira counts to five before exiting, checking on Ran, who's still sleeping peacefully. She does a walk through the bar, and everything is normal. Even the doors and windows are locked.

She walks back to her room and shuts the door, staring at her mug of tea, by now oversteeped and bitter. She sighs and drinks it all anyways, pretending it's coffee instead. She lies down and blows out the candle, going back to sleep as if everything were normal.

~̴~̴~̴~̴~̴~̴~̴

She wakes up to the tolling of church bells. All the Merchers will be in their best clothes and praying to a god that honors work. Which they'll interpret as stepping on "rats" and leeching money from a market built on the backs of indentures and slaves.

They're loud too.

Mira stuffs the pillow over her head to try and brown it out. It eventually stops on it's own and she sighs, staring at the cobwebbed ceiling and debating trying to fall asleep. Eventually she decides to get ready. Some ladies might be coming in today and she needs to be able to give them all of her attention.

She dresses in some comfortable clothes, ones she would not wear on the street, but it'll help get her point across to the women.

She descends the stairs and pours a tray of non-alcoholic drinks and takes down a few chairs for them. Then moving the tables out of the way to clear an area for their training.

The doorbell chimes and she looks over, a group of three enter, looking nervous. They're first timers. She welcomes them and offers some drinks. "We'll see how many others come and get started. If you have to leave at any time Ran'll escort you home."

The first thing Mira always does is make sure they know that they are under no obligation to stay. It's something she does because she can and she'll do it if ten people show up or just one.