Page 16 of Badmouths & Bards

There was no way Face was… what the fuck was he doing? Tala wasn’t dense, but she was aware that there was something she was missing here. Something that should have been obvious, but it just wasn’t landing right. Her suspicion grew worse as Crop Top’s lips turned into the wickedest smirk Tala had ever seen.

“Not at all,” Crop Top hummed, lifting his arms above his head to stretch.

Crop Top’s top shifted, showing off more of his abs and a sliver of his pecs. Did this dude wreck his muscles that morning? He had to—how else did he manage to get that kind of muscle definition when Tala couldn’t even get rid of the small bit of fat around her own stomach? She was starting to think Crop Top probably never went out for drinks or did anything fun.

Wait, he’s a water helfen… how the fuck is he functioning being that dehydrated?

The question would have kept Tala occupied for a few moments, if Cercel’s gruff voice didn’t draw her focus back.

“Oh, I’m not staying,” he said. “I’m just here to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

Tala rolled her eyes, sinking further into the chair until her neck was practically resting on the other arm rest. If the babysitter needed a babysitter, Tala doubted there would be any hope for her mission.

And what mission? Could the High Conservator have been any more vague? Tala was supposed to protect Face and Crop Top—but she had no idea from what. Did they piss off a mercenary guild? Were they secretly members of the thieves guild, or were they targets like the other wealthy elite? Whatever the reason, Tala just knew she was responsible for keeping the two blue guys alive.

“Oh,” the woman said with surprise. Her eyes flew toward her and Tala could already feel the judgment behind the heavy mascara.

“I assure you, though, Taldesa is very well trained,” Cercel explained, shifting on the ottoman. He grinned as the wood cracked, all sharp drakonis fangs on display.

Tala caught the woman’s eye. She lazily made a double horn gesture with her fingers before letting her hands flop back across the chair. If Cercel had a problem with it—well, maybe the Valiant Circle should have invested in more comfortable chairs. Wood was good and all, but whatever they had stuffed the chair she was melting into needed to be used at the temple.

Cercel sighed.

“She’s been with the Valiant Circle for years now,” her babysitter continued. “And prior to that she trained at the Sanctuary of the Moon Maidens overseas, so she’s very suited for the type of protection you requested.”

She had to give credit to Cercel. He had just completely breezed over the fact that she had gotten kicked out of the Moon Maidens. Not that Tala wanted to rehash the old wound to strangers. Honestly, she had Avie for that.

Avie. Tala frowned. Avie, where the fuck are you?

The gnawing feeling that something was wrong hadn’t left Tala’s gut. In fact, she was damn sure the distraction was what kept her temperament in check. Well, that and the unsaid meaning of what the mission was. Aelidon hadn’t said it out right, but Tala had been through it before. She knew what the High Conservator meant when she said this mission was important.

“Moon Maidens?” Face questioned.

“Oh, sorry boys, they don’t use the same names here for the gods,” Seira said.

“All cultures have their own names,” Cercel continued. “I’m sure the Dauntless Verity is called something else on the other side of the world.”

“The Moon Maidens are worshipers of the purple moon. Y’know, goes by Pernimas in familiar speech,” Tala explained, before gesturing to her whole outfit. “In case you couldn’t tell.”

Crop Top frowned, stealing a glance to Face. He looked like he had something on the tip of his tongue, but whatever it was stayed inside his mouth as Face caught his eye.

So, the blue boys know how to communicate without words, huh?

That spoke volumes about their relationship, which most likely meant they had a shit ton of secrets. Moon Maiden knew, Tala was the same way with Avie. Even with the opals, the pair had learned to speak without words. Avie always knew when she needed to pull the ale away from Tala and in return, Tala knew when she needed to prevent her friend from knocking some no-name’s lights out. Rare on both occasions, but necessary from time to time.

“Oh, forgive me, I forgot about introductions!” the woman sighed—as if she felt foolish for forgetting.

Tala could have told her not to bother. Eventually she’d come up with a nickname for her, too. Nails was becoming a big contender when Face suddenly stood. He had the kind of grace to his movement that surprised her.

“Well, why don’t we fix that? You said your name is Cercel, correct?” Face asked, raising a well manicured hand toward Cercel in greeting.

“Oh, yes,” Cercel fumbled, meeting Face’s hand with his much larger one.

Even seated, Cercel was nearly as tall as Face was and if Tala didn’t know better—

Wait, is this fucker blushing? Cercel?!

“A pleasure,” Face replied with a smile one could say was charming. When he directed that smile to Tala, she found it less charming and more unnerving. “Taldesa, correct?”