6. Casimine
Casimine
The Golden Manor had been quick to accommodate them once Seira had tossed a bag of gold onto the counter.
Casimine hated how much precious gems and gold had the world in a bind, but he was thankful nonetheless.
Before he was accepted into college, Casimine had only a few silver to his name.
He had worked in a bakery that had only paid him enough to afford his long-term board at an inn across town.
His face is what afforded him bread and the small wedge of cheese—Casimine had never questioned that.
Perhaps if he had been more comfortable with intimacy at the time, he could have found himself working at a brothel.
Casimine had been propositioned enough times on the way home, but he never found himself interested, no matter how desperate he was for coin.
Because the goal was never to survive, it was to thrive.
To utilize the gift of his voice and lyrics to bring crowds to tears and truly be independent.
And look at you now.
Casimine stood in the middle of a luxurious gold and white sitting area.
He and Ameriden had dropped their glamours once Seira had locked the door behind them.
The floor was covered in carpet with ornamental floral designs.
The ceiling was high and painted with half naked lovers embracing.
From across the room, a double door led toward the bedroom where a massive four poster bed sat on a raised dais.
“Are we sure this isn’t a love inn?” Ameriden joked as he placed Dumpling’s enclosure on the coffee table.
“You’re thinking of the Tipsy Top Inn,” Seira said from her position at the small dining table at the other end of the sitting room.
Her satchel—which was always stuffed with parchment and gold—was set in front of her as she rifled through it.
“Prices are good, you can find some decent company—at least, last I checked.”
Ameriden raised his eyebrow at Casimine, seeking approval.
“Don’t even think about going there, boys,” Seira scolded as she began unpacking. “You might be new to this city, but that doesn’t mean the city doesn’t know you.”
A small tinge of guilt formed in Casimine’s stomach. Given their history of sneaking out in the middle of the night, he didn’t blame Seira’s caution. Granted, she had only caught them once, but it was enough for her to realize they had frequently been going out without any personal guards.
Ameriden must have thought the same, because he linked his hands behind his neck and grinned at their manager.
“Aw, c’mon, Seira, don’t you trust us?”
“I trust you, it’s them I don’t trust,” Seira barked.
Them being the fans, of course. Casimine tried not to think about it, but the incident at the inn had only reminded him of the fragility of his position.
Or rather, his own weakness. Fans were proof that you were successful—a type of success that had a different value than coin.
Musicians, story tellers, singers—they all thrived when they captured the hearts of their audience, but nobody had told Casimine about the harsh realities of what that meant.
So many people thought they were owed his attention, his energy—which, in some ways was true.
But the difference was those terms had always meant to be set by him and Ameriden.
So, when fans starting rallying around the inns they were staying—when they started breaking in to their living quarters—something had changed.
Cashmere Fantasy was no longer a simple duo of bright-eyed water hanfen, but two internationally known and very influential people.
“We understand, Seira,” Casimine said. “I imagine the king won’t have the guards ready just yet?”
The invitation from King Oryin’vel Vyrthsalis meant the kingdom itself would be extending their services to keep the crowds in line when they performed.
That was part of the reason why Casimine had agreed to traveling so far at all.
People were less likely to cross a line when a ruler was involved.
Yet with the sudden change of their travel, they would most likely have to find temporary guards until Seira contacted the king directly.
“Yeah, who are you gonna get to babysit us now, Seira?” Ameriden cheekily asked.
“Just because you both have a few feet on me, doesn’t mean I can’t still box your ears, Ameriden Perzar,” Seira huffed.
“Oh, she used your full name,” Casimine hummed.
“I’m in so much trouble.” Ameriden grinned.
Casimine adored Ameriden’s smile. Sharp and mischievous, as if Ameriden held the secrets of the universe behind it, and it took every ounce of his will not to lean in and kiss him.
Seira rolled her eyes. “If you clever bastards must know, while I was busy making a deal with an arcanist, I also managed to land you chuckle heads a personal bodyguard.”
“Personal?” Casimine questioned.
That was… different. Usually, Seira would arrange for guards to protect them from a distance.
Whether they belonged to a ruler or were simple mercenaries, the people who were tasked to protect them had always done so from afar.
Casimine didn’t even know who they were, let alone what they looked like.
“Yup,” Seira confirmed. “Didn’t you notice I booked three rooms?”
Ameriden looked surprised, arms dropping to his sides. Unlike his companion, Casimine had noticed. He had simply assumed Seira had done it for privacy.
“So, who is this mysterious bodyguard?” Ameriden asked, folding his arms across his wide chest.
“Well, that’s the funny thing,” Seira let out a small laugh, “I actually don’t know.”
Casimine froze.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Ameriden’s expression turned serious, his dark blue eyes narrow as one of his sharp eyebrows arched.
“Okay, before you have kittens, hear me out.” Seira shifted in her seat, turning toward them.
“Ever since the… incident, I’ve been considering getting you two a personal bodyguard.
What happened today just confirmed my decision.
This wasn’t an impulsive decision either, I’ve actually put in the hours and have researched the best options in Eshorion.
The arcanist I spoke to just happened to have a communication channel with the organization I wanted to reach out to.
That’s kind of why it took so long to finalize the details of the teleportation spell.
I was arranging everything for you two.”
The incident.
Casimine hated that the event had a title, but to refer to it in any other way would have only brought more memories of that awful experience.
He wouldn’t say he was proud of it, but Casimine already found himself pushing the memories away.
There had been enough tragedy in his short life, and he rather preferred to not think about them at all.
That didn’t mean the emotion didn’t come to the surface.
“I would never insult you, Seira, but what exactly do you know about this organization?” Casimine asked.
“Casi’s right. Like, we trust you, Seira, but we don’t exactly trust strangers,” Ameriden said—he had always been quick to back him up. “Unless they’re hot, of course.”
Oh, Amer. Casimine almost laughed. I can always count on you to think with your cock.
Not that Casimine was any better. He could find beauty in any face as long as it belonged to a person who was interesting enough to talk to. Perhaps that was why he preferred to drink before engaging with some of the people they had laid with in the past.
“For your information, the organization in question happens to be highly regarded in the region,” Seira said with a sniff.
“We aren’t going to believe this organization exists unless you give us a name,” Ameriden smartly retorted.
“Oh, my gods, y’all are worse than a dog with a bone!” Seira exclaimed, waving her arms in frustration. “They’re the Archive of the Valiant Circle, you little shits!”
Casimine thought the name was vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t remember why. Ameriden’s confusion was plain on his face as his eyebrows grew heavy.
“You hired a history teacher to protect us from twenty-thousand fans?”
The thought of that many people would have thrilled Casimine when he was a kid, but now it only made his stomach churn.
Seira had started keeping headcounts once they reached the point of overcrowding taverns with their performances.
For a while, they had to perform outdoors just to accommodate the crowd.
“They’re not a school in the traditional sense, you ass! They’re holy warriors!” Seira explained. “They worship the Dauntless Verity—you know, the massive white dragon you saw about halfway here?”
There had been a temple in the opposite direction that held a similar statue to that of the Sun Bringer. Casimine didn’t know much about dragon gods, but he had appreciated the color scheme the temple had displayed. White flags embroidered with some kind of iridescent filigree.
“The Dauntless Verity is the goddess of justice, harmony, and fairness,” Seira went on.
“Wait,” Casimine frowned. “That sounds familiar… isn’t she worshiped by political figures?”
Seira nodded.
“So not a history teacher but a lawyer?” Ameriden whistled. “You really think we’re gonna get in trouble with the local law?”
The woman let out a frustrated noise, nearly dropping her head onto the table.
“They’re not lawyers! I told you, they’re holy warriors.
They spend all their free time learning how to fight and how to negotiate between two parties!
They’re known for being fair, putting their personal vendetta’s aside, and doing what’s right!
” Seira exclaimed, face nearly turning red.
“Besides, most of them are monks or scholars. Which means the last thing they’re gonna be interested in is a couple of horny bards. ”
Ameriden purpled slightly. “I’m not—”
“You are,” Seira and Casimine said at the same time.
“Hey, don’t turn on me here,” Ameriden whined as he snatched Casimine’s hand. “Seira’s the enemy.”
“I’m not the enemy—”
“Okay, okay, enough,” Casimine chuckled. “Seira, thank you for going through the trouble of arranging a personal bodyguard. I’m sure Amer and I will adjust. And you, Amer, she’s only trying to help keep us safe. When has Seira led us astray before?”
“Thank you,” Seira said.
Ameriden sighed, “Fine.”
He patted the taller man’s hand with a soft smile.
“So, when is this person supposed to be here?” Casimine asked.
“Soon, hopefully. The time difference might have made things a little—”
A knock at the front door drew all their attention.
“—or that could be them right now!” Seira bolted from her seat, heading for the door. “You boys be on your best behavior and if they turn out to be a fan, you lock yourself in the bedroom, you hear me?”
Somehow Casimine doubted a locked door would prevent a group of fans from reaching them, but he nodded along with Ameriden anyway.
Seira paused at the front door, shaking her arms and bouncing in place.
Their manager wasn’t the type to be nervous, so Casimine could only assume she was mentally preparing to tackle the stranger if they turned out to be overly excited.
“Woo!” Ameriden quietly cheered. “Stretch it out.”
“When we get properly settled, you and I are going for a run to the gates of the castle,” she swore.
Ugh, so much exercise.
It was one of the things about being a bard that Casimine would have been fine with leaving behind. He could do it, but he found all the work to be unfulfilling. Having Ameriden be “the body” had saved Casimine from killing himself just to please a large chunk of their audience.
“Who is it?” Seira asked before leaning her ear toward the door.
“Hello, I’m a representative of the Valiant Circle here to see Seira—”
“Perfect!” the woman exclaimed, jerking the door open.
Standing in the doorway—or rather almost out of it entirely—was a very tall drakonis man with brilliant white scales. He was clothed in simple sandals, baggy white pants, and an open vest that showed off more of his impressive physique.
“My name is Cercel, may I come in?”
“Nice,” Ameriden whispered.
“Amer—”
Whatever Casimine had planned to say vanished from his mind the moment the bodyguard stepped aside and revealed a human woman with yellow eyes.