Page 15 of Badmouths & Bards

“Nice,” Ameriden whispered.

“Amer—”

Whatever Casimine had planned to say vanished from his mind the moment the bodyguard stepped aside and revealed a human woman with yellow eyes.

Chapter 7

Taldesa

Despite Cercel’s insistence, Tala had refused the traditional Valiant Circle motif.

She understood the importance of dressing in the colors of the Dauntless Verity—which is why she kept the sheer sash around her waist. The rest of her outfit was still in shades of purple and silver—the colors associated with the Moon Maiden. Given the bullshit assignment the High Conservator had given her, Tala figured the darker color scheme would make it easier for her to hide in crowds.

Plus, I even bothered to put makeup on, so I shouldn’t look that unkempt.

It was amazing what a little eye shadow and a lip could do—according to Avie anyway. Her shoes were clean, calves wrapped in muted purple with silver lining up the sides. She had swapped her loose fitted pants for a pair of wrap shorts. It showed off a bit of her thighs, but Tala wasn’t self conscious about it the way she was about her tits. The purple sleeveless top she wore extended all the way to the top of her neck, leaving her upper arms bare save for the wraps around her forearms and fingerless gloves. Her hair—well, she could never really tame that mess. Tala had at least brushed out the waves before she set them in two loose braids that hung to her waist.

Overall, Tala assumed she looked professional for a bodyguard—whatever the fuck that meant—even with her pack haphazardly thrown over her back. She understood that she was supposed to protect two very famous people—though, how famous they could be given Tala had never heard of them before? The High Conservator hadn’t given her any additional details. Just that Tala would be doing this gig for the next four months.

Tala had a strong poker face, but even she could admit that her jaw fell a tiny bit at the sight of the two helfen men across the room. They both had hair in a similar shade of blue-green—like apatites. And while their skin was blue, the shades were different enough that Tala noticed.

As for how they were dressed—she had never really paid attention to the rich snobs at the top of the tower. She couldn’t accurately describe if their outfits were appropriate, only that her gaze immediately trained onto the taller one. He was practically in a crop top, all wide shoulders with abs that made Tala jealous and strangely excited.

An eight pack? What does this dude do for his workout routine, dead lift stone giants?

The shorter one—well, if Tala had thought Crop Top was good looking, he had nothing on that guy’s face. For a brief moment, Tala questioned if the second guy was real. He had cheekbones that could have cut diamonds, a wide mouth that hinted at some secrets, and light gray eyes that twinkled with magic—

‘Twinkled with magic?’ For fuck’s sake, I’ve read too many of Avie’s romance novels.

“We’re so grateful you’re here,” the woman said, staring up at Cercel as if he hung the moon.

The urge to tell the lady not to break her neck was on the tip of her tongue, but Cercel must have sensed it because he shot Tala a look that clearly read as, ‘Don’t you dare’.

Tala bit the inside of her lip, glaring at him.

“Thank you for trusting the Valiant Circle with this mission,” Cercel said, all sweet words.

Cercel ducked low enough to clear his horns from the door frame and Tala followed after, allowing the woman to shut the door behind them. Ordinarily, she didn’t like it when people were behind her, but she was pretty sure the woman didn’t run the same kind of tests of abilities the way the High Conservator had.

“I grew up on this continent, so I’ve only ever heard good things,” the woman said as she lead them in. “Come, sit!”

The group of five gathered in the center of one of the biggest private rooms Tala had ever seen. Avie was usually the one buzzing about the Golden Manor—about how it was supposedly the fanciest place in all of Eshorion. Tala had nodded, but honestly, she was content with just going to the Tipsy Top Inn. Plus, the barmaids knew them by name and would occasionally top them off whenever Tala would throw out the trash.

The woman sat on a plush, low chair while Cercel awkwardly sat on an ottoman. Crop Top and Face shared a lounge seat—something Tala had only given a second glance at when she saw their thighs brush. She pushed the observation aside, dropping her bag to the floor and plopping into the other low chair in a manner that was less than professional based on how Cercel was eyeing her.

Tala glanced down at her posture and shrugged. She agreed to not say anything that might ruin first impressions, but Cercel hadn’t said a damn thing about having to sit a certain way. Arm thrown across the back of the chair, one leg thrown over the arm rest, and the other spread out in front of her wasn’t that bad.

I could be really manspreading it here, Tala thought as she glanced at her nails.

The polish that Avie had applied was cracked, but she hadn’t had the heart to scrape it off with a knife. It was silly, but Tala had promised to not touch the paint until Avie came back.

“I’m going to bring you the best polish you have ever seen!”

“I’m a little surprised the Valiant Circle sent two of you,” Seira said after a moment of awkward silence. “I was under the impression the High Conservator could only spare one of your warriors.”

“Not that we’re complaining,” Face said, resting his chin in his palm and batting those long sea blue eyelashes at Tala.

The fuck?