Florian
These thoughts had tortured him for days, and he was no closer to finding answers.
Even so, he could no longer sway the others to stay here.
Even the last few days, they had lingered to humor him.
A bitter part of himself wanted to rage at them for not caring what had become of her.
But in reality, it had been a week without a sign.
He didn’t even know if staying was the wisest choice anymore.
Rhea had cited that if Keira didn’t want to be found, short of magical means, they were not going to find her.
Though she was undoubtedly right, as usual, it didn’t make leaving feel any less like an abandonment.
His eagerness got the better of him. Usually he armed himself with some gambit or coy line to offer a partner.
A clever twist of humor and flattery to set them off guard and show that he was fun and harmless…
and interested. But his mind was utterly blank as he approached her, other than an overwhelming need to know her.
Thus, he found himself in her path with nothing to say. She looked at him, brows knotting in annoyance. And curse him if he didn’t find it utterly charming.
She recoiled, looking purposefully away from him.
He was butchering this.
“Can I help you with anything?” Fate’s teeth, had he forgotten how to flirt?
Her brown eyes found him long enough to glance over his features. “I doubt it.” She looked past him, clearly wanting to be rid of him. There was a purposefulness about her, a goal in mind beyond a pleasurable evening in the tavern.
“Since I can’t be of any help, why don’t I buy you a drink? To apologize for my ineptitude?”
“Move aside,” she said, finally meeting his eye. Her tone was not a question or request, but a command.
“Of course.” Florian dipped his head, obliging her at once.
She walked past him and straight to the bar.
Florian didn’t take his eyes off her. He didn’t know if he could, though he found himself a less obtrusive vantage point.
His fox waited impatiently, no anxiously, until the innkeeper came to her. “Please give me a room for the night,” she said, her tone intriguingly nervous.
Then, even more astonishingly, he granted her request immediately, sliding a key across the bar. She pocketed it at once and thanked him. Not a coin exchanged hands. Florian had stayed in this tavern for over a week now and had never seen that man miss a chance to collect on debts.
She skirted immediately towards the stairs, like a mouse scurrying for cover.
“That was a fascinating trick,” Florian said behind her just before she reached the first step.
Her back stiffened. She turned slowly to see him leaning against the wall, doing his level best to exude a casual air even as his blood sang with excitement.
“Why don’t you let me buy you that drink and you can tell me if everyone always does what you say?” Florian baited.
A touch of fear flashed in her eyes. Florian made sure to keep his smile friendly.
He was gifted in reading faces, bodies. It was indeed one of the primary skills he offered the party.
Though she was trying to mask it, Florian scented one of the most potent motivators about her: desperation.
This woman was a mystery wrapped in an unspoken fear.
He couldn’t help but wonder why. Where was the lordling she’d been with the other night?
Who was she to him? And why in the realm was she here?
Finally she nodded, and Florian led her to the bar. Her fingers searched for something to fidget with, settling to twine amongst themselves.
“Two more ales if you would be so kind,” Florian said as he leaned against the bar.
Then, he turned back to her. She was assessing him tentatively.
He allowed the silence to linger between them, studying her in kind.
Seeing her closer, he realized her pert little nose was spotted with a spattering of freckles that were almost invisible in the lantern light.
That and her eyes were swollen with the memory of tears not long past.
“What do you want?” she asked finally. Her voice was sharp as a knife in accusation. It caught him off guard.
“I want to know what you’re running from,” Florian answered honestly, “and what you’re looking for.”
She glanced over her shoulder, confirming his every suspicion. “This was a mistake,” she said, standing. “Don’t tell anyone that you saw me here.”
“Wait, please. I can help you.” He reached for her without thinking, but stilled before his fingers could even skim her cloak.
She stopped, but didn’t return to her seat, remaining tensed to bolt.
“I’m excellent at finding things, or people, or hiding them for that matter,” Florian said quietly, flooding his words with every ounce of sincerity he possessed. “No questions asked.”
Her eyes looked him over, considering his proposition.
“Who are you?” she said.
“Florian Crestwell, at your service,” he said with a flourish of his hand. Slowly, she sat back down at the bar. “And you are, my lady?”
“Yvette,” she said, sharing her name reluctantly, as if she was unsure what he would do with it once she handed it over.
“A pleasure to meet you, Yvette,” Florian said, pinning her with his most rakish gaze. Just saying her name sent an insane thrill down his spine, knowing she belonged to it.
Yvette looked back at him as if no one had ever come onto her before. There was such a cleverness in her eyes, and somehow such innocence. He had to know more… No questions. He was going to regret that promise.
“I’m looking for someone,” Yvette whispered, completely ignoring her ale.
“I see. I may require a name, though I have given my solemn promise not to ask.”
As she leaned in, Florian caught a whiff of a rich floral scent. It circled him entrancingly as he tried to keep his mind fixed on the matter at hand. “Keira, if she has another title, I do not know it.”
Fate was a curious mistress indeed, Florian thought with a smirk. “It seems you and I are united in common cause,” he whispered conspiratorially.
“I came here looking for her associates,” she said, urgency bleeding into her voice. “I heard whispers they were staying here.”
“Indeed we are. Though the rest of us are currently abed.”
Yvette didn’t speak, searching him over as if she might find the truth written amongst his features. Finally, she looked down into her ale for the first time, seeming more troubled than before.
Yvette knew something.
“One might wonder if you had any idea as to her whereabouts,” he said, technically not a question. Florian kept his tone light, though his heart was beginning to race.
“She was turned over to one of the southern cartels: the Highwinds,” Yvette said, still not meeting his eye. “From what I understand, there was a bounty.”
Florian’s mind blanked. Whatever he expected, well…
His full weight sagged against the bar. If that was true, matters were worse than he had let himself imagine.
Their business was often at odds with the Highwind’s dealings, and those corrupt moguls would undoubtedly pay to have any one of them in chains.
If they had their hands on Keira, they’d bury her, that is if they chose to keep her alive at all.
Florian let out a heavy breath.
“I wanted to find you.” Yvette pressed. “I figured that if anyone could help me-”
“I need to wake the others. They should hear this as well,” he said suddenly. “Can you wait here?”
Her brown eyes went wide for a moment before she nodded.
Despite her assurances, Florian rushed up the stairs. After the festival ended, they had claimed a third room. Gareth hated sharing his sleeping space, and well, Florian and Knox enjoyed the privacy. However, Rhea and Lilith’s room was the first in the hall. He knocked on it insistently.
After a moment and some obscured grumbling, Rhea came to the door.
She scowled down at him. “I’ve made up my mind, Florian. If you want to stay-”
He shook his head. “It’s not that.”
Rhea straightened.
He opened his mouth to say, There’s someone down at the bar- but the words caught in his throat. Trying again, I met- That didn’t work either.
Meanwhile, Rhea was looking down at him with steadily mounting annoyance.
Instead, he tried a new approach. “I know where Keira is,” Florian said out loud finally. “You need to come downstairs.”
He repeated this process with Knox, who agreed wordlessly, having not been asleep anyhow, and Gareth, who’d cursed him and six lines of his descendants for waking him. All the while, his mind was working at dangerous speeds.
Yvette had ordered him not to tell anyone he’d seen her, and now he couldn’t physically form the words.
Just as the innkeeper had given her a free room without hesitation when she’d asked.
It was growing steadily clearer that there was more at work here than persuasion…
but how? It seemed his fox carried more secrets than one.