"Kul, we have to talk."
"Shut the door."
"Understood."
A rented flat set in a metropolitan city expansion was a dwarf amongst giants. What little light was present was blocked by the overseers. Telescopic devices were lined against a particular window; an amber boiling atmosphere held. "That's where he lives?"
"Correct," said Ishta, "-operation's ready for completion."
"Who's working the job?" she leaned into one of the scopes.
"Can't tell," he answered, "-we're bound by oath to the throne. Pay it no mind, it'll all be over in a few hours," her stare broke, one arm rested on her hips whilst the free hand went for a soda can, "-what is it?"
He checked the sides, saw none, cleared his throat, and waited a few seconds, "-how did you know his majesty returned?"
"Had an inkling sensation," she answered, "-surely that's not the only concern."
