The common room of the inn was, as expected, pretty busy. With the usual evening trade bolstered by the people that had decided to take a well-earned break from whatever business they'd been doing at the Merchant Festival, the waiting staff were running about all over the place in their attempts to keep up with demand. The noise and bustle made for a good bit of concealment, too, if that was what a person wanted, and amongst the cheerful bedlam that filled the place, there was nothing at all to set one particular table part from the others.
Except that the truly observant might have noticed that of the five people at that table, only one of them was real.
With her back to the wall, Phrae lifted her cup to her lips, letting part of her mind focus on maintaining the fake company around the table with her. She wasn't here to for fun, but for business... and not the sort that many of the folks around her would have approved of if they'd had the slightest clue.
The wine tasted pretty good, actually, and she savoured the only slightly overpriced vintage as eyes the shade of ice watched the comings and goings around her in their patient search for-
There. Nice of you to finally show up.
Blending in with the well-dressed crowd, the fair-haired man she'd been waiting for took a moment to get his bearings as he stepped from the street into the inn's bustle, and Phrae smiled to herself as she watched him share a quick word and friendly smile with the serving girl that moved over to intercept him. From the look of it, he'd turned down whatever she'd offered, but done it smoothly... and was now weaving his way through the horde as he headed for the stairs that led to the floors above.
It had taken a fair amount of effort to track him down, and more of her dwindling stock of local coin than Phrae would have preferred to confirm that he was staying here for the Festival, but simply watching him disappear again through the doorway was satisfaction enough for the moment. The satchel he'd had slung over one shoulder had been even
more
satisfying to see.
You may have beaten me this afternoon, sweetheart, but I guarantee you'll be losing it in the end.
The thought that flickered through her mind as she watched may have been a little ominous, but the smile that curved her lips was anything but threatening. In fact, it held the sort of promise that occasionally made men sweat for entirely different reasons... which wouldn't have been much of a shock to anyone that knew her well enough. She might as well play to her strengths, after all, and there was no need to make what she had planned any more uncomfortable than it had to be.
* * *
With a sigh of relief, Galvyn Sax, trader and purveyor of antiquities and trinkets, closed the door of his rented room behind him. Not that he wouldn't have been happy enough to spend some time down in the common room, relaxing after the day, but he needed a little time to himself after the hassles of the last few hours.
Anyone would have thought they didn't want me to actually make any damned money
, he thought to himself sourly as he slid the satchel off of his shoulder and set it carefully on the sideboard.
All the bureaucratic hoops they make some of us jump through, just so we can legally then hand over a percentage of whatever profit we manage to make...
It was a wonder, he'd pondered at about this point in every Merchant's festival he'd attended, that the guild that ran it actually managed to make it work. Still, he'd successfully navigated the petty annoyances for another year - and it wasn't as if the day had been a
total
loss.
He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the bed, and rolled his shoulders a bit as he glanced at the mirror hanging on the wall. Given the running around today, he was quite pleased to see that he'd managed to keep the outfit he'd been wearing, tailored to his tall, fit frame, from getting too shabby. In fact, he considered, if he'd had any clue where to find her, he wouldn't even need to freshen up all that much before heading out to seek some time in the company of the charming young woman he'd beaten at the auction earlier on.
She'd been quite eager to get her hands on one particular item that had been up for sale, Galvyn recalled, and had driven the bidding up to the point where he'd been on the very edge of surrender - only to have her do it first. He'd sought her out for a quick chat after the auction had been over, meaning to congratulate her on a well fought contest, and to see if he could find any hint as to just why she'd been so intent on winning.
As it turned out, she'd been remarkably evasive about that little detail... but gracious in defeat, admitting that she had only yielded thanks to simply running out of money to bid.
Galvyn laid a hand on the satchel's leather surface, frowning in thought as he wondered just what the fascination with the item inside it had been for her. To him, it represented a curiosity, and one he expected to be able to sell on into the world of academia for handsome enough profit, but he simply couldn't shake the idea that there had been far more to it than that for
her
.
His thoughts were broken by a knock at the door. Not a loud one, to be sure, but enough to get his attention and have him wondering just who it might be. There was no reason for any of the inn's staff to be bothering him, that he knew of at least, and none of his friends around town would be coming to call...
When he opened the door to see who it was, his curiosity about his caller's identity disappeared - only to be replaced by even more on the topic of
why
. As well as a bit of how, too, when he thought about it.
"Miss Shattre," he said after a moment's hesitation. "I must admit that I'm surprised to see you."
But not in any way disappointed. He'd been struck by her appearance earlier, hence the notion of seeing her again if possible, and here he was being granted another close look. And he was hardly going to complain about
that
. From the dark hair that flowed down over her shoulders, to the short top that fit snugly across a quite pleasing bust, to the curious style of skirt she wore that left one equally shapely leg bare all the way down to the sandals she wore on her feet, she was worth the time of a good look... and the pale blue eyes smiling up at him were hardly doing anything to discourage such an inspection.
"I imagine it is," she replied with a soft laugh, but Galvyn found himself unable to appreciate it fully. For the briefest of moments, he could have sworn there were
two
of her standing in front of him, and when he looked down into those eyes, he wasn't quite sure what to make of the pinkish-purple light he was sure he could see flickering deep inside them.