Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree

Where was he even going?

Aleth hesitated just before he got to the stairwell, considering his options. It would be stupid to go wandering around up on Tarr's floor. So, first or second it was. First was probably more likely to have guards or servants still scuttling about. So, second it was.

He turned into the stairwell, then stopped short. "Oh!"

His gaze flicked over Lyra's shoulder to ensure she wasn't accompanied, then he bowed. "My lady! How do you do?"

Lyra drew back in surprise as she saw Aleth. For a moment in the darkness she'd thought it was her father. Her shoulders drooped slightly; of course it wasn't.
"I didn't expect anybody else to be up," she said apologetically, retreating a few steps up the stairs. She was suddenly very aware of how underdressed she was, and she clutched the blanket and robe tighter. "I'm...well, thank you. How are you finding your room, sir?" She had to get out of there. She wasn't supposed to be talking to him.

"It's lovely, thank you," Aleth answered, offering a warm smile. He took a step backward to give her more space. She was clearly uncomfortable, and he didn't want her to bolt. And he certainly didn't want her going to tattle to Tarr that Aleth was snooping around. "Unfortunately, I find myself unable to sleep. Are you in the same position as I?"

"I like to go for walks at night," Lyra admitted hesitantly. "The silence is nice." She turned, ready to leave. "I...I apologize, I should really be getting back now." Her heart was racing again.

"So soon?" Aleth asked gently. It was suddenly occurring to him that he wasn't actually certain on how to speak to young girls. He could flirt with women; flatter men. But she was little more than a child, and timid at that. "It seemed like you were on your way down, not up? I'm sorry to have disturbed your peace, I doubt you get much of that?"

Was it too heavy-handed? Only time would tell.

Lyra tensed; did he know? How could he not? Her husband was less than subtle.
"I was," she admitted, then said a bit more firmly, "but I'm on my way back up now." Tarr had mentioned that Aleth was a wheedler, bent on gaining as much knowledge as possible. What was he learning right now, just from watching her? Lyra felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Aleth's eyes flicked across her. She reminded him of Ky, in the early days of her being his assistant. Tense, fearful, uncomfortable under his gaze. He searched for a topic that may bait her into sticking around. "Are you looking forward to seeing your family again so soon?"

"I find it hard to imagine not being happy to see them," Lyra said truthfully. Tarr had been right; he was a persistent man. Something about his tone reminded her eerily of her uncle. There was a false kindness there where Uncle Gaius had only been genuinely affectionate, though, and it made Lyra want to leave even more than before. "Please, sir. It's late."

"Of course." Aleth bowed again, barely biting back a sigh. He was pushing the bounds of propriety. He'd hoped he could get her talking, but it seemed that she was too smart to let that happen. Or, too fearful. Which he supposed was reasonable. He's given Ky more than enough motivation to keep her mouth shut -- who knew what Tarr's methods were. "I hope you have a most pleasant remainder of your night."

"And you as well," Lyra replied, holding back a sigh of relief. She'd won this fight, at least. Her parents would be proud. "Warm night, Master Klev." She retreated up the stairs, biting her lip. She couldn't breathe a word of this to Tarr; he would be furious.

Aleth watched her go, then turned and returned to his own chambers. That had been a wildly unfortunate interaction. If he'd managed to get information out of her, the risk would have been worth it. But, he hadn't. And so now he had to wait and see if she'd tell Tarr.

He supposed it all came down to a matter of whether Tarr's methods of discipline were as effective as his own. And, if Lyra's will had been broken yet. Ky would report directly back to him if she'd been in a similar situation. Aleth always ensured that the punishment for withholding information from him was far, far more severe than any other indiscretion. That way he could be sure that his servants would be sure to admit their missteps to him, rather than wait to see if they'd be found out.

Tarr probably wasn't smart enough to have figured that out. But, who knew what Lyra would do. He could only hope that whatever it was, he'd still be able to play off his story of needing a way to relieve his bladder.

Either way, he couldn't risk bumping into another person in the halls. Especially not if Lyra was to wake Tarr. So he settled down in his bed and stared at the ceiling thinking about the Tarrs -- and especially Lyra -- until he drifted off to sleep.

(Shall we skip to when the others arrive or do a POV change over to Ash and Pratik? I'm gonna go to sleep now but we got A LOT done and I now have a new perspective on poor Lyra! I've only ever written her as an adult.)

(We did get a lot done! I'm so pleased with the character development, even though Tarr and Aleth both need to die xD And ikr? I wanna cuddle the poor girl... I think a POV change to Ash and Pratik might be nice so we can work on setting up that dynamic, but I'd also be down for a timeskip if you'd prefer that! Night!)

(Let's move to Ash and Pratik, then!)

Pratik had been glad to hear about the Ash/Loquitur fallout. Wars provided many opportunities for him to be useful in gathering information or being sent to assassinate key players. All the things he was good at. And which were handsomely rewarded by silly men playing war.

The problem had been trying to decide which side he was going to join... at first, of course. He'd flip on anyone at the drop of a hat. His allegiance was to money, and nothing and no one else. He was unburdened with nonsense such as sentimentality and morality. He'd help you if you paid him well -- and would in an instant go to help your enemy if they paid better.

Loquitur had more houses on his side -- but Ash had the bigger army. And he seemed to actually have a good head on his shoulders, unlike most nobles that he had met.

Pratik was traveling north, still deliberating which house he would settle in, when he heard whispers that Aleth Klev had sold himself to Tarr's treasury. That settled that. He didn't want to be anywhere near to that bastard. Either of the bastards. But especially so Aleth. He was the only man that Pratik found particularly threatening.

Aleth had hired him several times to dispatch various politicians -- and paid a fair wage -- but he wouldn't trust the man as far as he could throw him. There'd been more than one kill that had been made exponentially harder for Pratik to make, because he'd been hired to execute someone, and Aleth had been hired to protect the same man. He'd always accomplished his tasks, of course. But most of the scars on Pratik's body were a direct result of Aleth's meddling, and he didn't want to give the asshole any more opportunity. Better to make it clear they were opposed to one another than to pretend to be friendly and then end up with a knife in his back.

Pratik stopped just outside Ash's keep and addressed the guard who approached him. "Tell Lord Ash that Pratik Chrenko is here with a business proposition for him."