*Nadine
He was dressed in a waiter's uniform. It was funny how she'd never even looked at a waiter before, but she couldn't keep her eyes off him.
She sat in the corner of the main room practicing needlework on a bright handkerchief.
He was in the kitchen cutting cheeses.
She could see his broad shoulders rise and fall with the knife. His muscles barely concealed in the suit. His butt looked great in those pants.
She blushed and pulled her eyes back to her work. What was wrong with her?
She was his hostage. Here she was admiring his body as he held a large knife in his hand. She shook her head at herself, and before she knew it she was back to watching him. He was pouring wine now. He looked every bit the part of a waiter. Steady hands, good posture, styled hair.
She'd never seen him with his hair styled. It made him look younger, and more sophisticated.
He turned and the hard planes of his jaw twitched as he brought them a platter and two wine glasses. His eyes were a darker blue today. He looked at her and they darkened further still. She missed the way they lightened and sparkled with ease. These days they were both brooding.
She looked pointedly at her lap as he turned to get a platter of dried meat.
She stared at the handkerchief in her hand lost in thought. How things may have been different if they both had different lives.
He cleared his throat and she looked up startled.
"Do you mind if I sit with you?"
His deep voice floated to her with such confidence and somthing a little less hopeful. His face was so different when painted in a serious manner. Yet still so handsome.
She wanted to say no. Partly because she was mad at him and partly because she wasn't as mad at him as she ought to be.
"I suppose." She tried to make her voice cold and curt as his sometimes was, but it came out too quiet; too gentle.
He handed her a wine glass and she pulled away quickly as their fingers brushed. They both looked at their wine glasses remembering a bright field and a shimmering lake.
He was the first to break the silence.
"Do you like needlework."
She nodded at him and took a sip of her wine.
"I do." she raised a brow at him, "Why are you dressed as a waiter?"
He looked into his wine glass as if it were a script written with some melodramatic line. He rest it down beside himself.
"I have a job tonight," he said simply.
She looked confused, "As a waiter?"
Her head felt funny all of the sudden. She leaned against the wall.
"Yes and no."
"I see. Are you going to kill somone?"
He looked at his hands on his knees and replied quietly.
"That's not the job tonight."
She opened her mouth to say somthing but there was something in his eyes that quieted her.
They ate in the quiet and when he left she watched him with her arms crossed a blanket draped across her shoulders to keep out the cold.
*Scar
He would be gone all night perhaps into the morning.
He had already pushed this job off as long as he could, two days. Any longer and his father's men would be knocking on his door.
Carver was outside for the night with orders to keep an eye on the cottage but not to enter or be seen by Nadine.
He stepped out onto the streets and began walking as the sun fell low in the sky.
The hand lettering of his father's order floating in his head as he neared the carriage that would take him a few towns over, into Baylotè, or as some called it the city of silver.
It was called that for one of two reasons.The first being that if you wanted a quick bit of honest currency this was the place you'd go. This was good for him because no one would raise brows over a single waiter looking for a nights work and a quick departure. The second, and more impressive reason, it was called the city of silver, was the fact that it had been entirely nothing a few decades ago. Flat, lifeless, dusty desert.
A handful of phenomenal magic wheedlers had made it their lives work to turn the desert into somthing striking.
With enough silver to make anyone's mouth water they had built 1,500 foot curving structures to make a giant hollowed out lotus flower.
When you were riding into the city there was an outer layer of giant silver bridges into the city and the second layer. High beautiful curving walls, but it was even more beautiful a sight when you entered the city.
The high structures were covered in silver gems and the city sparkled when the sun hit the right angle. It also glimmered beautifully in the moonlight he observed as the carriage came over the ridge and he caught sight of one of the inner walls.
His father had sent him to Baylotè once before.
He had been twelve at the time, sent for a year to learn impersonations of staff and nobility. The city was always bustling making it easy for him to blend in.
In a city like this it was easy to be seen only when you meant to be seen and disappear just as easily. He stepped out onto the streets in the heart of the city.
He glanced at the banner on the wall that shimmered and glistened even in the night.
'Help wanted for tonight's celebrations.' It read. Other writing floated into his head a moment later. Seduce the lady of the household and collect her heirloom silver necklace. The necklace was worth enough to feed a family of ten for a year, maybe longer.
Rumor was it had been fought over many generations ago in a solo hand to hand of two great warriors and now belonged to a descendant of the winner. A wealthy man who had more coin and land than he knew what to do with and a lazy ambition.
Rumor said that he'd given the necklace to his wife as a show of his needless wealth.
He straightened his waiters suit and entered the manor through the staff entrance with a charming smile.