The Red King [Book II]

XXIII

"I'll have what you asked for soon," Morven assured him. "But... this is a really big ask."

ㅤ"I'm aware. Focus your men on not being caught. I'd rather know nothing than have that man realise what we're doing. Keep this secret."

ㅤMorven wearily nodded, shoulders tensed by the weight placed on them. James' last request was more ambitious than anything he'd asked before—and it wasn't a job Morven's guild would've ordinarily agreed to do.

ㅤ"I'll bring what I find to Arkingham." Morven then paused, jilted.

ㅤHe must've had a thousand thoughts swirling in his head—for not only had Jay returned with his well-kept appearance amidst all this political chaos, but he'd then shown unprecedented interest in individuals far above their mortal stations. The gods only knew what Morven thought of it all because he, himself, clearly didn't.

ㅤ"Bet on the lion," James said again.

ㅤThere was a weak and uncertain smile in response. "Safe travels, Jeremy."

ㅤAfter a farewell, James left the guildhall, creaking down its old wooden steps.

ㅤCrowds were steadily packing around the noticeboards on the open ground floor. It was late morning—peak activity time for Wyndmerc as the burly hirelings raised from the dead, hungover from their late-night boozing, to pick their job of the day before returning to the pub to spend their spoils and repeat.

ㅤJames watched as they yawned under the shade of the guildhall, picking the crust from their eyes. One was smacked on the back by old comrades to advise for and against certain jobs.

ㅤ"That merchant didn't pay last time."

ㅤ"Aw, this guy. His wife is a total flirt—it was worth sitting on a horse for a few days."

ㅤ"This one's been up for a week already. It's something dodgy."

ㅤ"This young lord is so pretty. I've seen him before. I wonder if he does it with men."

ㅤThe last one resulted in a swell of raucous laughter and jeers, ruthlessly assuring the excited man that his hopes were inconsequential anyway, considering his appearance. They manhandled and ridiculed him whilst he did his best to defend his honour.

ㅤJames touched his lips to realise he wasn't smiling like he thought.

ㅤWithout a second glance, he braced into the sun, his skin stinging where exposed and sweltering where covered.

ㅤBecause the streets were so packed, because it was so claggy, it tired him quickly. He found it difficult to focus, his face hot and his mind blurring like the rippling distortions in the air. People passed him in the wavering haze and he couldn't categorise their faces to assess the danger. Their expressions, their attention, their hostility: he couldn't concentrate to find out.