@weavinglight, thread converted from legacy here:
            Veil was quite enjoying the cooling effect of wet floor on skin. Climbing up the wall had been hard work after all. It was helping her think too, she wanted more of it. Veil sat off and shrugged off her jacket, throwing it somewhereâshe wasnât paying attentionâthis was followed by a peeling off of the shirt, which she also threw. She only kept on the undershirt because Shallan was insisting she stop. Something about making Adolin uncomfortable.
           She picked up the fallen pitcher and shoved it into Adolinâs hands before laying back down in the puddle. âFill that up for me please, sugar cube. Cold water only.â Veil took a few moments more to gather her thoughts about all she, Shallan, and Radiant had seen that night. Between the three of them, there was a lot to sift through.
        âIt happened out in the open, though there were apparently no witnesses, just a barmaid who happened upon him. She only saw the killer as they were running off. Weird that murderer would feel secure doing it in such an open space. Weirder still that the killer only took the least valuable objects off the thief.â
            Here, Veil raised her right hand and wiggled her fingers, where a golden signet ring gleamed from her thumb. It bore the glyphs of Aladarâs princedom. Heâd reported it missing days ago, and in an effort to curb the chances of fraudulent authorizations being made, had halted the usual chain of command. He had to approve everything in person now. It was very annoying. Now here it was.
           âWe handed over the body to Aladarâs men, but Shallan insisted we keep this until she can make sure this isnât some kind of elaborate conspiracy on his part. Doesnât trust him, something about a guy called AbrobadrâŚSheâs an idiot, Iâm sure heâs clear.â
â || ââ
Adolinâs head is still high enough that Veil doesnât bonk him in the nose or chin when she sits up with the abrupt speed of the sloshed, but her coat sleeve smacks him in the face as she flings it away. He reels momentarily, blinking, and the shirt that follows the coat sails off past his ear, landing on the bed with a near-noiseless rustle.
He canât quite tell if âsugar cubeâ is said in mockery, an attempt at endearment, or a mix of both, given that itâs coming from Veil. Heâs inclined to believe she means well right now, though, and even if she doesnât, she â and Shallan â could use some water after all of the alcohol.
He takes the pitcher and listens to her answer as he pads off to fill it up â thank engineers and the Almighty for the thorough plumbing network of the tower. âStabbed, I assume. What did the wound look like? Clean? Or were there signs of a scuffle, of the thief retaliating or trying to flee?â
Metal creaks softly and the pitcher starts to fill. âOnly the least valuable objectsâ? Huh. Did the killer take anything at all, I wonder, or simply dispatch the thief and run?
âPerhaps the killer ran off with something they considered more valuable than a pouchful of spheres and a highprinceâs signet ring, bolting as soon as they found it.â A wild guess, to be sure, but Veil and Shallan had run into wilder schemes before while investigating. âDid the barmaid see the killer lingering above the body at all, or were they already running away when she saw them?â
He kneels down next to Veil this time, lest she overbalance and tip into him, and holds out the pitcher. âDrink at least some of this before you dump the rest over your head. And Shallan is right not to trust Abrobadar. Heâs an acquaintance of mine simply from being a somewhat close age and a former Shardbearer. Heâs⌠hmm⌠not a sycophant so much as a man that likes to make sure his loyalties lie where power is â or where he thinks power is rising.â
























