The scholar awoke, her hips aching slightly. She let out a soft groan of discomfort, as she shifted out of the bed, her feet silently touching the ground. She shifted her weight slowly, to avoid a strain from the bedsprings, or a creak from the floor boards. She heard the man breathing heavily in the bed. She cast her eyes over to the door, as the ship rolled lightly. It would be locked- And beyond that, half a dozen men would be going about their business. After yesterday's ostentatious celebration, and all the vows, they might take amiss to the captain's new wife sneaking off the ship.
She took a moment to look down at the ring, and smiled. The captain was quite a kind and gentle man, barring a bit of overeagerness, and the idea of playing pirate queen had its own kind of enjoyment, but she had work to do. The Imperial Library of Shangri-La had hired her, after she had thoroughly documented the monsterfolk in the mountains and valleys of her home country. It appeared they wanted more information about the world at large available to them as they prepared to spread in the world. That she had been banished by the Emperor shortly before just made the job all the more tempting.
She gently slipped the ring off her finger, the coral and brass glittering beautifully. She would have to add 'Shockingly good jewelsmiths' to the entry on Scylla men. She gently placed it on the table by the bed, and lifted the delicate eyeglasses from the table, placing them over her eyes, blinking as she checked herself. Hickeys had been left everywhere on her soft skin, small rings of red where the Scylla had gotten overeager. She was pale-skinned, her hair dark, with a few copper strands visible. If she were entirely honest with herself, she was not of a most athletic shape, from a youth spent in libraries, bent over books, but it did not seem to put off the monsterfolk men. She smiled with modest satisfaction, and looked over her shoulder.
Splayed across the bed, the Scylla man lay, eyes closed, heavy breaths rumbling out. His pale-olive skin had been intriguingly exotic, and she felt a little twinge of regret that she was not staying as she took a moment to appreciate his bare chest, broad shoulders spread lazily across the bed. Tentacles coiled across the bed, bringing a red blush to her face as memories of last night danced in her mind. He looked so fierce with his eye-patch, the scar visible above and below his cheek. The story of how he'd gotten it, saving a human child from a shark attack, made it seem somehow less frightening, making it a dashing badge of honor. She shook her head, and started dressing. If she spent all her time dreamily admiring his face, then she would hardly get anything done.
The traveling clothes were not ornate or fancy. She wore a simple dark brown shawl, a pair of well-worn pants, and a concealing top, meant to hide her gender. Looking male had been only a moderate aid in avoiding unwanted attention on the roads, as most of the male monsterfolk she'd met on her travels had displayed a damnably strong sense of smell, but every little bit helped. She slowly pulled on her socks, the shoes sliding on, and she edged her way slowly towards the window.
The moon shone through the glass. The city rocked outside. She'd been surprised that the city would allow pirates to dock here, but apparently, the local Emer was a man who enjoyed his kick-backs, and the pirates paid handsomely for the friendly port. With all those who had not heard the good word about Setereh, there were plenty of outsiders- Tarriqii- who the Emer was all too happy to see raided. The kingdom went unmolested, and traders had a good profit-driven reason to convert to the God of the Setereh.
She reached down, lifting the travelling bag, hoping it would keep the water out while she spent a few brief moments underwater, and leapt from the corner just as a wave rocked the ship. She dove headfirst into the water, just as the water struck the pier, the noise of her entry lost in the splash.
As she climbed out of the water, she heard the first shouts from aboard the ship. She ran into the alleyways, darting from shadow to shadow, and then, finding an opportune window to her right, leapt into the darkness.
The young woman inside took the sudden intrusion with a surprising amount of grace, which is more than could be said for the scholar, who let out a high-pitched yelp, before processing the woman's appearance. The full-body white cotton veil the other woman wore had, momentarily, appeared like a ghost right out of the scholar's childhood nightmares. A smile spread across the scholar's face. "Want to trade clothes?"
The other woman had left surprisingly quickly after putting on the scholar's clothing. She hadn't looked particularly like a fugitive- Maybe she just wanted to go explore the city while wearing something a bit less eye-catching. The scholar sighed, as she took a seat, polishing her glasses free of the water, and looking around the small room. A tall pitcher full of water and ice sat on a table, condensation dripping off the metal. She took to her feet, and bent over to admire the water, dragging a finger along the cool exterior, before lifting it to her lips. The first rosy fingers of dawn were arising over the city, the sky turning from pitch black to the most spectacular shade of blue, even as she watched.
The garment, though it was somewhat difficult to walk in, was astonishingly comfortable. White cotton hung over the entirety of her body, loose and shapeless, with only a small hole to give a view of her eyes, a veil covering them. Despite its covering, it let the air flow easily. As she thought about that, she began to feel uncomfortably nude. She carefully slipped her travelling sack beneath the clothing, and then the door opened.
Two tall men, dark-skinned and sharp-eyed, stood at the door, on either side of a bookish young human male. The young man had dark skin as well, though slightly lighter than the two guards, and wore a rather broad and voluminous shirt, a pair of trousers, and a rather fussy looking pair of glasses, rather unlike her own. He carried a small parchment, and a quill, which looked rather too large to be from anything but a harpy. It bore a curiously distinctive He studied her silently for a few moments, before nodding to the two men. She abruptly became aware of the curved blades the two men carried.
The current atmosphere seemed like it would favor carefully going along with the two large and somewhat intimidating guards, rather than any foolish attempts to run in a garment that seemed designed to trip her up. She gave them her best winning smile before recalling the veil, and allowed them to flank her, as the scribe began leading them quickly through the building. The large hotel was rather busy, travelers filling it nearly to bursting, but none of them ever came close to her, or her flanking bodyguards. At least, she hoped they were bodyguards. Surely jailers would be a little more menacing towards
her, specifically.
As they lead her through the streets, she took a moment to appreciate the architecture. The white stone of the buildings shone brightly in the dawn light, making her think of the imperial palace back home, just for a moment. The tallest building stood several stories tall, in the center of the city. No doubt it was the manor of the local Emer. She felt her nerves grow slightly tenser as she approached the large building. The guards led her through the double doors of the large palace, and into a rather beautiful garden, set in the center of the building, a courtyard where a pair of rather beautiful young harpy women
sat. The two played harps slowly, smiles on their faces, wearing long, elegant gowns. Their skin was the same shade of olive as the scribe's, and they waved pleasantly to her. Both were rather gorgeous creatures, with glittering, iridescent blue feathers, and long tails that lay across their legs as they played, apparently for their own pleasure. The music was soft and pleasant, and they gave her rather dazzling smiles as she took a seat by the small pool in the middle of the garden.
She carefully set the bag down at the water's edge, and withdrew her notes from the previous week's observation, carefully setting to editing them, for lack of anything better to do. She would make copies, and give them to a traveler headed towards Shangri-la when she had the chance, and hope they made it to the Imperial Library.
"The Sultan's insults verge on the outrageous. Sending me to this backwater was bad enough, but I could at least consider it an opportunity to prove my abilities in fostering trade. But this is who he chooses for my first wife? Some Tarriqi human, a slave bought by traders? This is outrageous! He deliberately provokes me!" "My lord, I'm sure that the Sultan has his reasons, and she is certainly an attractive-" "Perhaps if you are human. I've
yet to see one of you that did not turn my stomach at some level."
The voices carried over the walls of the garden. The door to the garden opened, and there he stood. He was one of the Naga of the Setereh kingdom, one of the famous hooded cobra men that she had read of. He towered, his shoulders broad, his arms crossed over his chest. His skin was a pleasant shade of dark brown, burnt by sun into a crisp color. The only clothing he wore was a simple sand-colored cloth skirt around his waist, covering the transition between human and snake. A pair of golden bands were fastened around his arms. He slithered across the garden, his movements hypnotic, leaving a trail in the delicate grass as he approached her. His eyes were golden and dark, and something about the look he gave her sent a shiver down her spine. His scales were a mix of dark, almost ash-gray scales on the back, and a lighter brown on the stomach, and he looked impressive as she took him in. His muscles gleamed in the soft light, a thin sheen of sweat on his skin, his torso narrow and tapered. His hair was a strange mix of black and tan, hanging down over his head in the shape of a broad hood, stiff, with a pair of pale gold eyes etched onto them, almost the same color as his actual eyes. He was angry, and while she had not caused that anger, she was the target of it.
She was briefly put in the mind of stories she had heard, of snakes who could hypnotize prey, and put them into a trance, helpless to prevent their own deaths as it approached them...
Which was why she was quite shocked when he darted forward, and his lips met hers through the veil, his hand resting on her chin, with a surprisingly gentle touch. The feel of his tongue was strange, but pleasant, as it danced across her lips through the veil. She could taste the faintest hint of honey through the cotton fabric, her heart pounding like it had when she'd experienced her first kiss, her eyes closing as the pleasant touch of the
tongue soothed her. The kiss broke, and he studied her. "Tell me. Do you even speak my language, Tarriqi girl?"
