Denerim Confidential

Chapter 1

Juliet glanced at her watch. The bartender noticed.

"He's late?"

"She," Juliet said absently. "My best friend."

"Ah. Figures. I mean, no one would want to keep you waiting. If it were a date, I mean, a man would be stupid to be late ... er. You know what, I'm just going to go wash some glasses over there," the bartender said, blushing a bit.

Juliet found herself smiling at him—he was cute, despite the verbal fumbling. "Naia's chronically late. I love her anyway." Juliet herself was obsessively punctual, but it was hard to be mad at Naia. She always had a good reason—and she always showed up eventually.

Sure enough, twenty seconds later the door burst open to reveal a red-haired elf dressed in jeans and a puffy coat, a messenger bag slung across her body and her pale cheeks pink with the Denerim winter cold. "Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry!"

"Not to worry. I just got here," Juliet said. It actually wasn't a lie. She'd learned that if Naia said eight, she would arrive no earlier than eight-thirty. Eight-forty-one wasn't bad.

Naia sighed, pulled her messenger bag over her head, tore off her coat, and thumped down onto the bar stool next to Juliet's. "You would not believe the day I had." Belatedly, she peeled off her gloves and dropped them on top of her bag.

"A brass knuckles kind of day, apparently," Juliet said, noting the pattern of bruises on Naia's right hand.

"Shianni called. Some humans were hanging out near her shelter and harassing the people staying there—pushing them around for fun, throwing a few punches if anyone protested." Naia flashed a grin at the bartender. "Lemon drop, please!"

The bartender smiled back—you kind of couldn't help it when Naia smiled at you—and busied himself mixing vodka and lemon juice. Naia turned back to Juliet. "So, of course ..."

"You went to the shelter. You walked in and out until they picked a fight with you. They got violent, you returned the favor, and now they're missing some teeth."

"You know me too well." Naia brightened visibly as the bartender slid her drink towards her. "Thanks!" She pushed some battered bills across the bar to cover the tab.

Juliet shook her head and sipped her single-malt. "You know assault is illegal, I assume."

"I know it. Whether the Guard knows it is another matter. Shianni filed three reports! Oh, wait, I forgot. Now that you're gone, the Guard doesn't give half a damn about elves." Naia scowled. Most people would have thought the frown was just a temporary blip in Naia's cheerful temperament, but Juliet knew better. That diamond-bright smile belonged to a very angry woman.

You couldn't pay attention in Denerim and not be angry.

"You know I'd go with you on these kinds of things, right?" Juliet asked.

Naia shook her head. "No way, Hawke. It's one thing if I get arrested, but if you get arrested ..."

Juliet sighed. "Yeah. I know." They might figure out I'm a mage. Yay.

"Right. And then I'd have to find a new partner and I just don't have time for that right now," Naia said, finishing her unspoken thought. "Besides, I barely broke a sweat on this one. I even let them keep all their teeth. That's good, right?"

"I'm proud of you, Naia Tabris," Juliet said, only half-ironically. "So. Why did it absolutely have to be this bar, all the way across town from my nice warm apartment on this lousy evening?" It wasn't a bad bar, as bars went, but it didn't strike Juliet as anything special—cute bartender aside.