Cerberus Rex, Nameless

Part 2| Seeking Friends, 5

"Now, watch closely." The tiger-orange eyes of the solare gentleman flashed left and right at his audience. Children giggled, and the women—a few men among them—blushed under the come hither invitation of his gaze.

Noarwin's teal fingers danced. Yellow sparks sprang across them. They hissed and sputtered then tossed into the air. Spectators awed as they swirled into a spiral, burst apart, and rained like stars on the children. Noarwin's audience clapped and laughed in delight and then proceeded to offer him coin for the show. Noarwin thanked those that shouted praise or placed a copper—some a silver—into his palm while others tossed a donation at his feet. A formless wisp gobbled up the benefactions. Some children chased its tail, but it darted like a tadpole in the deep and avoided capture. Once it licked every cobblestone and gutter clean, it flew back into Noarwin's sleeve, who winked at the children that stumbled to a stop before him. He smiled and squatted at their level. He patted one's head and ruffled another's hair.

"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Noarwin!" one of the girls beamed.

"Any suggestions for next time?" he asked, raising a conspiratory brow at the line of them.

"Monsters!" a boy said, throwing his arms.

"A king!" a girl piped in.

Noarwin nodded as he stroked his chin. "Viable ideas. I shall consider them. Look forward to next time. Now, hurry along before the guards get wind of my playing around."

They laughed, waved goodbye, and he sent them on their way. He picked up his coat lying abreast the wall behind him, his elegant hand batting away the dust. He paused midway when a shadow drew up over him. The scent of roses and lavender tugged a name's bell.

"Mr. Noarwin," a woman cooed through a smile.

Noarwin glanced at her and then smirked to himself. His sharp eyebrows lifted, and he straightened. "What can I do for you, my lady?"

"You continue to refuse my invitation. I have come in person to ask, why?"

Noarwin looked her up and down. A noble dressed in a cloak to hide her face. She risked her reputation seeking him out, despite his association with the Summit Guard. Solare did not wield the luxury of equality in the Empire where—proper—folk made their homes. As alluring as he considered his looks, he did not fit in with the human and elf people. Though many appreciated his teal skin and hair once compared to a woman's purple-blue opals.

Noarwin strode to her and curled his fingers around her waist. She gasped when his hips pressed to hers, and he dipped his lips to her ear. It wasn't pointed like his, but he didn't blame her for lacking a favorite of his traits. She was only human, after all.

"My business with you has concluded. Go home. Wait for your parents to find you a more suitable partner. Or seek out Mr. Sanders. You seem to like him a lot." He released her, the panels of his tailored, purple coat fluttering so sunlight shone across its golden trim.

She gaped after him, but he didn't look back, though her tangible offense tempted him to. He didn't play for keeps, but he didn't like a lady's divided attention either. Unfortunately for her, Sanders was an associate, and she didn't hide her wandering eye.

Noarwin crossed the Ara Pavilion he performed in and slipped past Sajna Plaza's crowds, its sandstone streets and cobblestone buildings ribboned in blue and white awnings. A testament to the Empire's precocious wealth and self-importance. He popped out the north side and entered a gothic cathedral under a rainbow of colors cast by its stained glass windows and sent the current representative a smile.

"Mr. Noarwin," the older gentleman said.

Noarwin's fingers twitched to stroke the shining bald spot haloed by the man's white hair, but he decided against teasing Bishop Yandez more than usual. He was one of the kinder representatives of the city's patron goddess, Forefa, and Noarwin felt inclined to act in turn.

"I hear you made a profit this afternoon," Yandez said.

Noarwin jingled his velvet coin pouch. "For as old as you are, those ears of yours still pick up the song of coin. A testament to your past profession and the goddess's power to reform even the best of thieves."

"I would thank you not to bring up my past in these halls, Mr. Noarwin," Yandez said in a dramatic, sage-like voice. "I have moved on from such sinful deeds."

"You can pick my pocket any time, Yandez. If ever you get the itch."

Yandez pressed his lips into a hard line to stop the smile twitching in its corners. He cleared his throat. "You have come to see Captain Fairwind I presume?" he asked instead of entertaining Noarwin's mischief.

"Aren't I always?" Noarwin sighed.

"I would hope that you report to your employer regularly, Mr. Noarwin. Considering the nature of your work."

"Ah, yes. There are always other reasons to see him, Yandez."

"I don't need to know the intimate affairs of your relationship, Mr. Noarwin," Yandez said leading him away.

Noarwin threw his head back and laughed, his sharp canines painted in red afternoon light. "Should a bishop of the goddess's pious domain make such suggestions in her own home?" Noarwin asked.

"The goddess doesn't mind a sense of humor. If she did, she would have never taken me in," Yandez said. "Besides. Everyone knows about yours and the Captain's... fraternal romance."

"What is a fraternal romance?" Noarwin asked.

"I wouldn't know. Some ladies giggled about it the other day when you two were together." He led Noarwin to a door. Its face was the beauty of a spring garden framed by twists and curls much too gaudy for one such as the captain. Yandez knocked. "Captain Fairwind. You have a visitor," he called.

Noarwin waited, hands clasped behind his back. Yandez cleared his throat after another moment and then rapped on the door. A few monks passed, sent Captain Fairwind's guest a glance, and disappeared. Still, no answer came.

"Do you mind, Yandez?" Noarwin asked gesturing toward the door.

Yandez stepped aside, and Noarwin squat to pick the lock. It snapped, and he thrust it open.

"My darling, Captain, wha—" Noarwin's burst dropped as he looked around the organized office. Papers hid away, books stood at attention on the shelves, and Captain Fairwind's chair looked back exposed and gleaming. "Huh. No one's home." He faced Yandez. "You said he was in?"

"I thought he was," Yandez said. He hobbled closer. Looked left. Right. He seemed to think the captain would emerge from the bookshelves or even the golden inkwell on the corner of his desk. "He came here wanting a quiet place away from the barracks to work, but he's always slipping out."

"Interesting," Noarwin mused. "I thought I was supposed to do that for him."

"Cabin fever, perhaps?" Yandez suggested.

"I'm not sure. Thank you, Bishop. I will search the central quarter for him." Noarwin waved as he strode out of the cathedral. He paused outside its doors and tossed a glance over his shoulder. He usually avoided it, but he sometimes couldn't help admiring the mantle of the goddess emerging from the cathedral arch. Her flowing hair, kind eyes, and whimsical smile could enrapture any man. Noarwin smirked to himself. Yandez would scold him if he knew Noarwin's naughty thoughts, but there was nothing pure about Noarwin. He twirled away from her face as if to dodge the point of a knife. Perhaps that was why the goddess didn't seek him.