Cloak and Scalpel

THE CADIA ARC: Fire on the Water

Author's Note:

Hello everyone! My apologies for this late update. I had been kept busy by a slew of events, one of which are major exams I have to take in November. I've been so caught up with studying. Apologies for the wait, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

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Two weeks ago...
The morning after the Mask Festival...
The port of House Alvin, the Moniyan Empire...
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Gusion had seen his fair share of audacious figures.  Indeed, growing up in the ducal court of Aberleen had made him all too familiar with the intrepid dealings of nobles and politicians, all of whom sought to curry favor with the Duke of Castle Aberleen.  But Gusion had to admit, none were as impudent—or daring—as Annalee in that moment.

The captain tilted her head at Aamon, a small smile curling her scarlet lips.  Aamon regarded Annalee with his usual calm and aloof mien, but Gusion was all too familiar with Aamon's tells—the way his jaw clenched subtly, the slight narrowing of his cold eyes.

Aamon appeared calm, composed, but Gusion knew the raging torrent of emotions that likely boiled beneath.  Berith, it seemed, could sense it too, because he glanced sideways at Aamon before turning to Annalee.

"I d-don't b-believe we-we were introduced my-my lady," stuttered Berith.  "B-but s-surely —"

"Silence, Berith." Aamon's tone was glacial. Quiet. Dangerous.

Berith fell silent at once.

"Name your price, Anna," Aamon murmured, his voice one of measured calm that belied his impatience.

"Brother," Amy spoke up.  "Surely, you needn't."

Aamon held up a hand and Amy fell silent at once.

Annalee's smile was sweet like poisoned honey.  She relished this, Gusion, thought.  The captain reveled in the fact that she had something Aamon wanted desperately—Diana's whereabouts.

"Well," Annalee said, pretending to think.  She tapped a finger on her chin, her expression one of utmost amusement.  "Nothing, much really.  I daresay, it's something you're quite capable of giving, Aamon darling."

"Spit it out," Gusion huffed with a roll of his eyes.

Scarlet lips stretched into a feline smile.  "A kiss," Annalee said simply.

Beside him, Berith and Amy made similar choked noises of disbelief.  Gusion frowned, eyes glancing towards Aamon.  His brother's expression was unreadable.

"You think we're playing?" Gusion snapped, speaking up.  "Be damn serious."

"Oh, but I am," Annalee quipped, her eyes glittering with mirth.  "I haven't seen Aamon in eleven years, after all.  I daresay, a kiss will set me up nicely.  Well, Aamon darling? I haven't got all morning.  Bodies to help dispose of, blood to scrub off, et cetera."

Gusion frowned.  It was a power play, he knew.  Annalee was making Aamon submit by using Diana as bait.  The pirate captain making the almighty Duke of Aberleen relent to her whims was an appealing prize, indeed.

Amy scoffed.  "How utterly—"

But before Amy could finish, Aamon strode towards Annalee.  And before anyone could say anything, he tilted the captain's face upwards, his mouth crashing against hers.

Gusion froze.  Amy looked as though she had been struck on her head by a mallet.  Aamon relenting to blackmail was something they had never thought to see.