Crimson and Gold

“I was able to find one of the people in possession of the pass to Mormo’s… establishment,” Lysandra said, sitting comfortably on a padded passion-red sofa. “Beu Perius. A middle-class merchant with an unhealthy obsession with Shahrezi Ashai dance.”

Saria raised her eyebrows. “Ashai dance? Then what are we doing at an inn?” she asked, sweeping her gaze around the place.

It was a rather small inn in the northern part of the city. Due to it being located quite far from the city center, there weren’t many people around.

The decor itself was unremarkable, too. Simple wooden tables and chairs took up the bigger part of the main hall. All turned to face a small stage at one of the ends of the room.

The outermost space was reserved for loges, like the one they were in.

Being known for the rigorous training the dancers had to go through from a very young age, the showings of Ashai dance were usually held at the theater or in private mansions of the wealthy.

Due to its prestige, it wasn’t something available to an average person, so a shabby inn in a back alley was the last place Saria was expecting to see it.

Even more so that merely an hour earlier, Lysandra suddenly called for her and requested that she accompany her to the city.

She didn’t give her any explanations and instead insisted that everything would be clear once they got there.

Sitting across from her, Lysandra smiled cunningly and gestured towards the center of the hall with her head.

Following her gaze, at the center table in the front row, Saria saw the only other guest, aside from them, in the inn. A plump man in a bright green toga.

Focused on devouring the roasted chicken in front of him, he seemed uninterested in anything else.

“That’s him. Our target,” Lysandra explained. “He always carries the pass with him. Never leaves it alone, even for a second. Stealing it is out of the question.”

Saria looked with disgust at the meat being ripped from the bone and disappearing into the already stuffed mouth of the man. Judging by the number of plates in front of him, it was the third roasted chicken that fell victim to Beu Perius.

“Are you sure he didn’t just eat it?” she asked, feeling the nausea building up the longer she was watching the poor chicken being obliterated.

The corner of Lysandra’s lips twitched, but she forced her expression under control. “I’m sure. We will have to convince him to separate with it on his own will.”

“What about breaking into his home and stealing it when he’s asleep?”

“Too risky. A couple of years back, he got in trouble with another merchant family. The conflict escalated fast and turned violent. Since then, Perius’ estate has more guards than the Royal Palace. It would be impossible to break in without causing a mess.”

Their conversation was cut short as suddenly the music started, announcing the beginning of the show.

The curtains opened and three women entered the stage.

The music started slowly, the steady beat of the drum echoed through the room. The dancer’s hips swayed gently following the rhythm, drawing everyone’s attention to the graceful moves.

The delicate golden chains flowing down their bodies shimmered in the light, flickering with every move.

As the tempo increased, so did they. Their hips circling smoothly, their bodies flowing like waves. The silky veils in their hands twirled above them, then cascaded down their bodies, like a snake coiling around its master.

Everything from the music to the fabrics of their intricate outfits seemed to exist in perfect harmony, following and complementing the moves of the dancers.

The music abruptly stopped, and with the flick of their wrists, the veils the dancers were holding were swallowed by flames.

The musicians played a new melody, more intense and aggressive. The performers spun the flaming ribbons around them, locking them in an illusory cage of crimson and gold.

The lead dancer arched backwards, spinning the fire above her head like a halo.

Then, as the rhythm changed, she launched into a series of spins. The flaming ribbons whirling around her hissing so close to her that it seemed she was about to be burned.

But the dancer remained untouched, finishing her spins with a low flip and landing in a perfect split. In that moment, the fire lashed out forward, like a snake about to lock their prey in its deadly jaws, and disappeared into thin air.

Saria’s gaze lingered on the stage even after the curtains closed after the dancers.

Something in her memories stirred, giving her the vague sense of recalling something, though, despite probing, she couldn’t tell what exactly she was remembering.

“Do you understand now why we are in some unassuming inn?” Lysandra’s voice reached her, snapping her back to the present.

Saria looked at her, puzzled, prompting her to continue.

“They aren’t normal Ashai dancers, all three women were Ignari. People who are possessed by the lesser fire spirit,” Lysandra explained.

“I’m guessing the show we just saw wasn’t exactly legal?”

“It wasn’t,” the Princess nodded, “Beu rented the inn for the day, just for this one show.”

Saria raised her eyebrows. “Considering we’re inside, Beu got thoroughly scammed.”

Lysandra’s golden eyes narrowed as a cunning smile curved her lips. “Being the princess of the Empire has its perks,” she purred, “not many would be stupid enough to deny me the things I ask for.”

“Power suits you, Your Highness,” Saria leaned closer, her gaze sweeping over Lysandra’s face, before dropping to her lips. “But it makes me want to deny you just to see how far you would go to punish such a disobedient servant.”

Lysandra watched the mischief dancing in the deep crimson eyes, then inched closer as well. “Don’t push it,” she hummed the answer against Saria’s lips, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

The Princess got up and gestured at her to follow.

“Beu Perius,” she said, sitting on the chair across from the man, “I hope you enjoyed the show?”

The moment he saw Lysandra, his expression went from pure bliss to sheer shock. He made it clear to the inn owner that the show and his presence there was supposed to be kept a secret.

“Y-Your Highness! I-I… This… It’s—” he stammered in panic.

“Save it. I already know everything, so we can skip the cat and mouse game and get straight to business,” Lysandra’s icy voice cut in, silencing the man.

At this time, Saria joined them, taking the seat next to the Princess.

Seeing her, Beu’s eyes widened, his gaze jumping between the women.

“H-How may I serve you, Your Highness?”

“The pass to Mormo’s brothel. I want to buy it from you.”

“What makes you believe it is for sale, Your Highness?”

“You’re a businessman, Beu, I’m certain you, of all people, will be able to appreciate the fact that I’m here talking to you face to face instead of having my companion over here slit your throat and rip the pass from your cold, dead hands.”

Lysandra sat comfortably, looking at him with her chin held high. “You saw what she can do, you know I’m not lying.”

Perius swallowed loudly, sneaking coy glances at Saria, who was more than happy to play the role of a bloodthirsty maniac.

She flashed him a sly smile, skillfully flipping the knife between her fingers.

“If that’s the case, then my price for the pass is her,” he gestured at Saria.

“Out of the question. She’s not for sale.”

“You’re misunderstanding, Your Highness,” he rushed to explain, “I don’t want to buy your daethri, I want to… borrow her services for one fight.

“You see, I was challenged to a duel by someone and I’m in need of a skilled fighter who would guarantee my success. Allow me to put your daethri in that fight, and I will give you the pass. What would it be, Your Highness?”

“Deal,” Saria’s answer came immediately. Then, she turned to look at Lysandra. “I’ll do it. It seems like a fair trade.”

“Are you sure?” Lysandra lowered her voice so only the two of them could hear. “It can’t be any standard fight, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to use someone else’s daethri. It could be a trap.”

“I’m sure. Even if he’s planning something, I can manage,” Saria assured, then straightened her back to look at Beu. “We accept your offer.”

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