Chapter 4 All Play and No Work #2
Azrion felt his jaw tick and his eye twitch. “Fine.”
“That wasn’t the reaction I expected.” Fenthorn’s smarmy smirk fell away. “I would suggest a slight modification to your expression if you’re about to go propose.”
“I’m not doing that.”
But Azrion was stalking up the hall after where she had disappeared like he had a plan, no matter that his mind was mostly a blank canvas that he stood in front of with nothing but a bucket of crimson.
He supposed he should be grateful to Fenthorn for hiding him the moment Melora came out of her office, the blue demon’s senses for such things always heightened, but the anger prickling up Azrion’s spine needed somewhere to go, and unfortunately his friend was a forgiving target.
“Then what are you doing?” Fenthorn was right on his tail.
“I don’t know,” Azrion hissed, turning the corner.
Melora had stopped halfway up the next hall to speak with a red demon. In a panic, Azrion opened the nearest door, but instead of an empty space in which to hide, the closet was filled with a dark-haired human. Gods, they were everywhere.
“Apologies,” he mumbled as she took a breath that was nothing short of panicked itself. “Apparently you need this more than I.” With a quick peek past the open door, he saw Melora was on the move again and shut the human away in the closet.
Melora turned off the hallway into a tea alcove with the red demon, and Azrion hurried himself up to the edge of the arched entry, pressing himself to the wall.
“What are—”
Azrion shushed Fenthorn by holding up a clawed hand. He wouldn’t need any spells to heighten senses here—unlike offices, tea alcoves were shallow spaces meant for mixing up a quick drink and having a gossipy chat—but only if his friend kept his mouth shut.
“Oh, hi Melora. I have those scrolls you wanted,” the familiar voice of Elliran wobbled from inside the alcove.
Melora groaned.
“Or I can just get the signatures myself and file them—”
“No, no, give them here,” Melora said with a sigh. “These are bound to be riddled with mistakes when one of their own had her hands all over them. You know some of the humans apparently don’t even know how to read?”
“Ah, well, that’s, uh, hard sometimes,” Elliran went on nervously over the sounds of papers being shuffled. “So all six are there, but Tarzul refuses to sign until Rudiments has a look.”
“That’s just a fancy way of saying he wants to hold onto the coin,” said the third voice from the alcove.
Melora huffed out a laugh. “Tarzul’s never been loose with the purse, so it’s no surprise humans don’t inspire some hidden charitable side. But mother’s not going to want to read all this. I’ll need a few days to write up the summaries.”
Azrion smirked—he knew the pain of working for a parent, but he didn’t go out of his way to make anything easier on his father the way Melora did with her mother, the Horn of Rudiments.
“Why is this scroll so thick? Are all these notes from a guard? I didn’t know they could read either.” Melora and the red demon snickered.
“Severath is…thorough.” Elliran’s voice wavered. “But that’s probably good since that one he’s got might be a you-know-what. Alamar is much more succinct, though, and she’s looking after two of them.”
“We just need to know that they’re contributing and not causing any upset.” Melora sniffed. “Beyond, you know, all the interest in them already.”
Now that was jealousy if Azrion ever heard it, but then what did Melora love if not attention?
“That reminds me.” There was more shuffling, and then Elliran’s voice went higher and tighter. “Grievances.”
Azrion could practically hear eye rolling through the wall.
“Oh, gods,” Melora scoffed. “Is this a complaint about just seeing one of them? Of course we’re going to see the humans: they live here!”
The third demon laughed. “This is a lasciviousness complaint. Apparently, humans inspire too many wanton thoughts, and this demon is proposing they wear prosthetic tails.”
“Whoever wrote that should take Vitae’s advice and pluck out their own eyes instead,” Melora grumbled then clicked her tongue.
“What demon would even have those kinds of thoughts about a human? They’re hornless, their skin is the color of weak tea at best, and those eyes?
” She scoffed. “The last thing I’d call any of them is attractive. ”
“I don’t know, I think that Rosy one’s quite pretty.”
“The mail girl?”
“No, the one who works here. You know, the one you think has a conflict of interest going over this paperwork all on her own.”
Melora grunted and went quiet, but there was a smoldering anger in that quiet, one Azrion thoroughly recognized, and it wasn’t about the bogus complaint or even the pending summaries.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Elliran backed out of the tea alcove, and the minute her gaze fell on the eavesdroppers, her eyes widened and her mouth opened.
Azrion clamped a clawed hand on her wrist, shocking her into silence as he tugged her back down the hall, Fenthorn following after in hushed exasperation.
His mind was churning, plans brewing, but he needed quiet to sort them out.
He had to shush both of them before he reached an empty meeting room far from Melora’s office.
“I’ve got it,” he finally said, the thought pigments melding together to create the perfect shade. He leveled a finger at them both. “Speak not a word of this to anyone.”
Elliran’s thin brows narrowed. “Not a word about what?” There were deep emerald circles under her eyes and a dishevelment to her hair that wasn’t typical for the scribe, but then he’d caught her sneaking around the Zizreni gardens awfully late at night on more than one occasion.
“Exactly.” He inhaled deeply. “Not even to my sister.”
Elliran’s cheeks darkened, black eyes darting away.
“Well, I’m off.” He clapped Fenthorn on the shoulder and flashed him a knowing grin. “I’ve got a proposal to make!”
Fenthorn called after him that Melora was in the other direction, but Azrion strolled right out of the council chambers without looking back.