A Princess, a Knight, and an Assassin Walk Into a Tavern...

Beau

They called him, simply, 'Ghost'. And as humorous as she assumed it was, it wasn't a jest.

Ghost had a checkered past, one that Beau had yet to fully piece together. He was born with... A unique quirk in his hair, eyes, and skin. Ghost, to get to the point, was an albino gentleman whose existence was as transparent as his skin.
By the frown he had on his face, the one she had to search for underneath a thick brown cowl, she could see his displeasure. Beau's chest tightened with guilt momentarily.

Ghost didn't normally go out in the daytime, as the sun seemed to have it out for him. She gave a sheepish grin and patted the shaded side of the table.
Ghost slid into the seat like he slid into the bar, without effort, and without bringing a single eye to his actions.
He scratched at platinum blond scruff under his chin. He hadn't bothered removing the cloak, not that he should.

"You actually want people to know you're a Knight?" He squinted at her, squinching his nose like the question smelt unwelcoming.
Beau just laughed good natured. "The Queen thinks I look rather dashing, looking like a cadet, not to mention I do too."
"Dashing?" Ghost asked incredulously, "You stick out like a sore thumb and you've got half the place on edge with you waving that insignia like a banner." He grumbled. "The exact opposite effect I was going for? The point of being discreet is to go unnoticed." He ended curtly.
Beau kept chuckling, "and yet, out of the lot of us, who is the one most likely to be called upon by a damsel in distress?" Her hand circled around to signify the crowd before finally settled over herself.
Ghost chuffed. "Aye, but no right way damsel should ever be distressing over in these parts. Let's inform the barkeep, this might be the first time an actual Knight stepped into his doors, we'll get a monumental plaque engraved with your name."
Beau let out a measured sigh, "Thank you, now, to business? Your report on the docks. It was... Distressing to say the least."
Ghost snapped into his role again. "As it said in my scouts' report, the big louts are crawling into barrels and smuggling themselves into our land, no one giving a second glance. Some crew members are payed off to keep quiet, I'm sure." He leaned in, his voice gruff and barely heard over that damned guffawing man in the back.
Beau's hand clenches at her sword, hidden underneath her cloak, through childhood habit. "Mere immigrants trying for cheap passage? Ghost, should the general be informed?" She hissed, leaning in but keeping her posture open, torso facing out towards the room, legs crossed lazily, her head propped up by her arm on the table.
Ghost shook his head, "Can't say for sure yet. They don't seem to regroup once off the ships."
"Unless they congregate somewhere else." Beau finished.
Ghost nodded, "So far, they haven't even caused so much as a complaint. They get on the ships, they get off the ships, poof, not a word. Not a sound."
Beau mused, "Not unlike someone I know."
Ghost hummed but said nothing, instead waved the waitress for a drink.
"I would ask, but..." Ghost eyed her.
"But I was raised off of apple wines and soft drinks. It's hardly my taste if i can help it, thank you."
Ghost settled in once the cup was sloshed onto the table between them. "Word got in that a curious shipment is coming in this evening at the docks. It'd be best to show you, before you report back." He nodded at her, keeping her attention.
Beau nodded grimly, "Let us hope watching is all we have to do."
Both knew, whether refugee immigrants or not, it was illegal and a risk to the people. If the Royal Knights needed to take action, whoever it may be, it will be taken.
He tipped his glass to her, "To tonight." She nodded back and went back to people watching.

Maybe she should also be doing her job here, too. "Woman with the sword for a leg? That's new." Ghost mumbled, before guzzling down his ale.