One of the perks of Rowanâs position that they no longer had to fight so hard for intel. People just brought it to them. All night, their lackeys parsed conversations for trouble or interesting tidbits and fed that information back to their fearless leader, lord of thieves. (When you got so powerful and controlled so much it wasnât just the physical objects you dealt in anymore. Secrets had a high price too, Rowan was something of a collector, they were a fantastic motivator.)Â
So here was the latest bit of knowledge to pique their interest; someone at this party was selling poisons. The kind you might normally find out in the fairwinds, pedalled by one particular seller. Rowan had been trying to figure out exactly who that was for a few years now for no avail. Not for nefarious reasons really, it was just goo dbusiness to know who else was working in the same sphere as you, hell, they mightâve been able to strike up something of a trade deal.Â
Though as tends to happen at parties, Rowan was distracted from their plan to track the seller down by some joking around and jostling, finding themselves laughing at the edge of an informal audience to a little friendly arm wrestling match. As there was a victory the crowd cheered together, and someone stumbled into their side. Rowan turned, quietly bemused by the gentle kindness of the stranger. To be so worried about just a little jostle spoke of a softness not usually found at a party like this. âNah.â They shook their head, âIâm tougher than I look. No blood no foul.â Behind her, one of Rowanâs goons made a short series of hand gestures- they had a shorthand, a few symbals that communicated basic sentiments quickly- this could be that poison seller. âYou trying to get to the bar? Could do with a drink myself.âÂ
They headed towards the bar with ease, the crowd aprting for them until they were leaned up against the bartop with the woman. Without much waiting a bottle of scotch and a couple of glasses were set down. Rowan poured themselves a glass, and gave the bottle a small shake, âyou a scotch drinker? Weâve got other stuff too, but this is my favorite.â
A relieved smile tipped Lolaâs lips as the other person assured her they werenât hurt. âIâm glad,â she murmured. They seemed almost amused at her apology, something the florist found a relief. there was no telling how offending someone at the party might end. She answered with a nod and was a little stunned as they started to lead the way. âThank you. I donât think Iâve ever attended a party quite like this,â Lola continued with a wry smile. While she might be more reserved, there was something charming about the near raucous environment. Her surprise continued to grow as the crowd seemed to part for them. Clearly the person sheâd stumbled into was important. The thought made Lola uneasy.
One misstep, and she could ruin her carefully crafted reputation.
Like magic, a bottle of liquor and two glasses appeared. It was almost reminiscent of being around Javier, if Lola was honest with herself. People orbited around the two of them, and things simply seemed to appear. Given the party at hand, the florist was willing to bet that this person had fought tooth and nail for the privilege.
âI am,â the woman admitted with another smile. It was tempting to repeat the rumours sheâd heard about the scotch being stolen from the palace, but Lola was willing to bet that someone as important as this would know the truth of the matter. âThough itâs not something I get to indulge in often. I think itâs so interesting how itâs made, the different things that can influence its flavor,â she continued, almost unable to help herself. âIs there something about this particular scotch that speaks to you?â Lola asked, head tilting to the side out of curiosity.