"Are you ready for our adventure, friend?" Camellia breathed, a little wild-eyed, smile broad.
"Naturally." Sile tilted her head. Waited. Camellia's eyes lolled in her head towards where Aodhan stood by a fire, gathered with the others, passing a flask around.
"Is"—Camellia started, stopped, gaze flickering down now, attempting disinterest, disaffection, a hand rising to her amulet and dropping—"is your brother joining us?"
Sile's mouth curled. "Would you like that?"
"I just—" Camellia studied her now, chest rising and falling heavily. "As you are so inseparable, I thought you might appreciate the company—and the Abyss is so easy to get lost in, just the two of us—but if not—"
Sile had already caught his eye, jerked her head slightly. He moved toward them. Camellia promptly studied her nails.
"Camellia and I are going on an adventure," Sile informed him. "You will join us."
He grinned. "Is that an order?"
"Perhaps."
Sile glanced back at the fire. Nessa, still out of sorts, stood facing them, one hand loosely grasping a bottle, the other holding the hair off her neck. Her eyes flickered to them, once, twice.
"You coming, Ness?"
Camellia froze.
"Company," Sile murmured. "I'm sure you don't mind?"
Nessa blinked slowly, looking at Trever and Sosiel, back again. "Where are we going?"
"Ten Thousand Delights."
"Ah." She shrugged, a lopsided gesture. "Why not?"
"How nice," Camellia said, smile wan, eye twitching slightly.
"And we must invite Wenduag," Sile continued, "since she is so fond of it."
Nessa cackled abruptly. Clamped her mouth shut when she heard the sound escape.
Camellia closed her eyes and inhaled. Sile might have heard her teeth grind. Perhaps.
"Oh, brilliant!" Aodhan turned back towards the fire and waved an arm. "Ho, Daeran!"
In the end, a small congregation gathered by the portal. Sile turned. "Alright, we have—"
She counted them off soundlessly. Herself, Camellia, Aodhan, Nessa, Daeran, who really did not want to be going, Woljif, who really, really did, Wenduag, whose gaze darted around as if someone should mention at any moment they had not, in fact, previously seen her at the brothel, the Hand of the Inheritor, naturally, the bore— aggravating that he, too, seemed uncommonly attached to her, though she supposed she could hardly blame—
"I had hoped, my friend," Camella said through her clenched teeth, smile fixed in place, "for discretion."
"This is better," Sile murmured, eyes scanning over everyone. "Draws less attention to your preferred company."
Camellia looked like she was very seriously contemplating running her through. Understandable. Sile smiled at her. Waited.
"I see," Camellia said finally. Louder, still smiling, she said, "A full party! What's our business in the city, Commander?"
Ah. She was furious. Sile's mouth quirked, somewhat against her will. Very well. "Must it be business?"
Nessa yawned.
