A Dance of Knives and Flowers (Jacob Frye X OC)

Day 5

[Day 5]

Grace's eyes fluttered open as the sun tried its best to burn through the curtains that hung in her carriage. She looked around in a haze, the events of the previous evening slowly coming into focus. Suddenly her aqua irises rivalled dinner plates and she shot upright from where she lay. Locking onto the timepiece that rested on her mantle she strained to read the Roman numerals.

"1:30pm"

She sighed in relief.

"There's still time."

She looked down to see herself still wearing last nights attire, and the blanket that usually rests at the foot of her bed for those extra cold nights draped over her.

'Last night...'

Her cheeks flushed as the memories replayed in her mind. She gritted her teeth and tried to forcibly shake them away, only managing to increase the dull ache from the alcohol's after effects. She cradled her head until the room stopped spinning and slowly slid off the mattress, allowing the blanket to fall to the wooden floor.

'I need to start getting ready.'

...

Jacob took his time waking up, and even longer sitting upright. He was in an area of sleep light enough for the clock chiming to rouse him.

1

2

3

4pm

He released his muscles in a long, satisfying stretch and yawned while he tasted his mouth, his jaw ached a bit but he had slept off most of the would-be hangover. He glanced to his left, where the safe sat, and perched atop it an empty stout bottle were a wilted flower hung limp from dehydration. The assassin stared at the dead flora and thought of how he should have put some water in the "vase". Then his mind trailed off the the woman who gave him said flower, and their activities of the previous night.

He brought a hand up to his face, and his eyes softened as his fingertips grazed his lips, where she had been. Had she truly wanted to kiss him? Or was it simply the alcohol that influenced her desire for such affection? Just as the assassin rose from his seat his sister entered the carriage, annoyance and frustration contorted her features. She let out a rough sigh and Jacob tilted his head.

"What's your problem?"

Evie shot him daggers.

"My problem, is that the Templar ball is tonight and we still haven't got any information on the Frenchman."

"I see... Well, I'm sure you and Greenie will figure it out."

He made to leave.

"Where are you going?"

She knew, but asked anyway.

"To see Grace, she did drink quite a bit last night"

Evie let loose another sigh.

"Jacob, you cant keep doing this."

The assassin's brow inclined as he turned to face his sister.

"Doing what?"

He already sounded fed up with the conversation.

"Allowing your emotions to distract you! You're living in a fantasy."

"Oh really?"

Jacob cocked his head to the side.

"Because last night didn't feel like a fantasy."