Evylin laughed as he took her hand, guiding her to the door. “In all your preparing, thinking, and reading, I take it you didn’t consider joining me for a nap,” she teased.
“I considered it,” he admitted. “I just decided against it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t nap.”
Evylin narrowed her gaze in disbelief.
Deckard shrugged, opening the door. “It doesn’t agree with me.”
She scoffed. “Napping agrees with everyone.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, turning the key in the lock just as the door across the hall opened.
“Almighty, you two took your time,” Thom said, slipping out of his room. “I was waiting by the door for the last twenty minutes.”
“Why?” Deckard asked just as the next two doors cracked open, Rafferty and Ethenn spilling over their thresholds.
“Time to go?” Rafferty said.
Deckard surveyed his men with incredulity. “Were you all waiting to go down with us?” he asked.
“Of course,” Rafferty replied. “What, you thought we’d like to small talk while the Calders continued their family reunion? No, thanks.”
Deckard sighed, and Evylin smiled. All three soldiers were dressed far more casually than their commanding officer, coats hanging open over their tunics, and only Ethenn had bothered to shave. They followed behind Evylin and Deckard like a personal guard.
“How did you three pass your afternoons?” Evylin asked as they descended the stairs, her hand tucked around Deckard’s arm.
“Napped,” the three men said in unison.
Evylin tossed Deckard a sly grin, to which he shook his head in amusement.
When they entered the foyer, they found only Vayden and Isla waiting. “You were late,” Vayden said kindly, “so I sent Auds and Lainy on ahead with Reyana.”
“Auds and Lainy,” Rafferty quipped. “I do love a good nickname.”
“Don’t call her that if you want to live,” Thom warned.
Vayden gestured for them to follow. “We’ll go through the back,” he explained. “The Alliance owns this whole set of buildings through various members, so we have ready access and viable excuses for our organization as a whole to visit the business. It makes meeting vastly easier, and it keeps individuals like my siblings and our Madam Warrior safe from prying eyes.”
“Then the meeting isn’t in the hotel?” Deckard asked.
“Oh, no, there isn’t a room large enough,” Vayden said. “There’s a banquet hall on the far side of the complex. People rent it out for parties or dances. We use it for our meetings.”
Going out through the kitchen’s back door, they stepped into a triangular courtyard. The stable ran the length of one side, two alleyways splitting off from opposite sides. Lamps lit the space as the spring sun made its final descent, casting it in a dark yellow glow. A patch of grass filled most of the space, wide enough for only a few horses to graze at once.
Vayden and Isla led the way, he in a dark brown coat and she in a deep green dress. The couple stood in great contrast to one another. She was surely a whole foot shorter than her husband, and he was the epitome of a pale Wauldener while her Schonese heritage shone prominently in her black-brown hair and bronzed complexion. Yet, despite their three-year separation, somehow, the pair moved with a sense of comfort and awareness of one another that Evylin could only hope to achieve with Deckard someday.
When they reached the far side of the courtyard, Vayden opened another door. “After you, darling,” he said with a sly grin to his wife.
“Thank you, love,” Isla said, trailing her fingers along his arm as she stepped through. Then she motioned for the Ephrians to follow her. “This way. Most of those attending should already be here. And I won’t have them stopping you to put in their bids for joining our venture.”
They moved through a storage room, then a back hall, and finally into an entry space where two double doors hung open, leading into a grand hall. A large fireplace nearly filled an entire wall at the back of the room, heating the space. The vaulted ceilings featured large, yet simple, chandeliers. Black and brown square stones tiled the floor, and the walls were paneled in wood.
A great clamor of voices filled the hall with conversation and laughter. Four tables lined the room, three running parallel down the hall with enough room for twenty people at each, while the fourth stood before the fire, with only eight individuals sitting along its length and facing the others. It was evident that the dozens of attendees were perfectly at ease and in welcome company despite the blatant disparity in their stations. There were men and women dressed in the finery of the wealthy, some even possibly ranking as nobility. Others wore more middling suits and dresses. Even a few were in all but rags—likely the best attire they owned. Yet, the rich spoke with the poor and the poor with the rich as though they were the dearest of friends.
That is, until the Ephrians’ presence was noticed.
