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The full twin moons were bathing the city in a silvery hue, their light reflecting off the ornate fountain in the garden. It was so quiet that he could hear the mild breeze blowing into the room. A pleasant change from the heat that had been holding Antiva in a firm grip for the last week.
A charming scenery. Ample material for another ballad praising Rialto’s elegance, something many poets had tried their hand at. Some more, some less tasteful.
The city’s greatest treasure, though, wasn’t its cathedral nor its pearls. It was a woman. Andarateia Cantori, Seventh Talon of the Antivan Crows. As lethal as she was lovely, her beauty was both a weapon and a treat. With as little as a smile, she could charm people out of their clothes. And she did - more often than not to kill them afterwards. For her, seduction was only another method to approach a target. One she excelled in.
In hindsight, it had only been a matter of time until Viago had to succumb to her perfection, too. He was a smart man: ambitious, calculated, cunning. If he wasn’t, he would be just another meaningless bastard of King Fulgeno, as disposable as his countless spoiled half-siblings. Instead, he had chosen to become a Crow. With determination and hard work he rose through their ranks, leading his own house and being promoted to Fifth Talon before his thirtieth nameday.
He had a certain reputation among his fellow Crows. They called him a recluse, a curmudgeon, a paranoid poisoner if they felt especially poetic. He did not care. He valued his solitude. Letting other people get too close only complicated things unnecessarily. He valued routines and predictability, too.
Qualities Andarateia decidedly did not possess. She was as capricious as the Amaranthine Ocean; fervent even by Antivan standards.
Strangely enough, this stark contrast in their personalities was one of the many things that fascinated him about her. From a respectable distance, of course. At least until tonight. Of course Teia had flirted with him. Countless times since her dramatic break-up with Dante Balazar several years ago. She simply could not help herself. Fortunately, he had countered her passion with reason. Every single time.
Until tonight, he had always succeeded in sharpening his defenses around her, wearing his restraint like armour. Teia had taken it as a challenge. Cunning and relentless, she had watched him, studied him like any other target, until she had eventually found one single loose thread in his restraint. So minute its existence had slipped his razor-sharp observation but it had been enough for her to wrap it around one of her perfect fingers. Carefully, she had tugged, the motion obscured by warm smiles and accidental touches. Slowly and confidently, she had unravelled the thread; unravelled him. Viago had not noticed at first. Or he had, but had failed to object. Hard to tell which would be worse. It did not matter, now.
Now, there was only her.
A quick turn of his head assured him that she was still asleep. Her back to him, her mane of jet black curls covering her shoulder blades. The blanket - made of finest Antivan silk - had slipped down, the indigo fabric pooling at the small of her back. Her bare skin posed a silent question, an invitation to join her in her bed once again. The sight made his heart beat faster.
Looking away and focusing on the garden in front of him took more effort than he cared to admit. The grounds were dominated by Crystal Grace, Teia’s favourite flowers. She had told him once that she found it calming to look at its bell-shaped blossom. An unimportant notion, and yet, he still remembered. Much like he did anything else that Teia had ever confided to him. As a rule, he tried to memorize as much as possible about everybody he met - Maker knew when a seemingly secondary piece of information could become significant. With Teia, however, he memorized these small anecdotes for her sake only. No hidden agenda, as questionable as it was.
His fingers still smelled of her when he brought them to open the first button of his shirt. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Teia’s scent was something to get lost in. Addictive like every single aspect of her. It was a miracle that he had managed to withstand her temptation for so long. But in the end, she had won. She always did. Gazing into the glass of Antivan Red in his hand, he recalled the events that had eventually led him here, marking her triumph.
Rialto. The pearl of Antiva, a reference to the treasures waiting to be found in the depths of its shores. A city not only ripe with beauty but with refined potion ingredients and poisons, too. If one knew where to look for them. Viago did, just as he knew that Rialto was a city full of potential targets. Since it was only a two days’ journey from his home in Salle he had accepted the contract that had been delivered to his door a week prior.
A standard request - the ever same song of corruption, envy, rising tempers and one party wanting to see the other dead. This time, the ballad had been sung between two merchant princes, and Viago had been the one to conduct the final note. And he had done so, without a second thought, without questioning it. As a Crow, he was only to do his employer’s bidding and not to judge it. He never did, because in most cases, he could not understand the energy people put into their petty arguments after all. Besides, Antiva would be better off with one less corrupt merchant prince.
Viago was a methodical man. He prided himself on his efficiency and his organisational skills. So of course he had planned this trip ahead. It would have been a waste of time going back to Salle right after fulfilling his contract. Instead, he had decided to pay Teia a visit. A friendly gesture between business partners; networking, as Caterina called it. Nothing more. Definitely no feelings involved apart from mild interest how the Seventh Talon had been faring recently.
The moment she opened her door, wearing her usual riding leathers that hugged her curves perfectly and a smile as sharp as her daggers, something between them shifted. Viago could not have named it, but her smile was a promise that things would not go according to his plans tonight. And yet, he had leaned down and aspirated a kiss to her cheeks, the smell of her perfume filling his nose.
Honey and amber. Sweet and earthy and simply her.
“Vi,” she had said, an expression of mock surprise playing along her features. “What an unexpected honour to be visited by you.”
He couldn’t recall how long he had simply looked at her. Too long to be considered acceptable, that much was certain. When he had found his words again, he had told her about his contract. About his visit being one of professional courtesy. She had laughed again, probably a breath away from calling him out for being a terrible liar. They both knew that as things were standing, nothing between them was strictly professional anymore. Every time they met, the wall of Viago’s cautiousness and self-protection crumbled a little more. By this evening, only a mere facade was left, threatened to be completely destroyed by the next gust of wind. Or Teia’s next smile. Viago was well aware of it. He knew that he should do the reasonable thing - turn around and leave. He knew it. And yet, he did the complete opposite. Let Teia persuade him to come inside for a cup of coffee. Andoral’s Breath, one of her favourite roasts. He could have left after. Instead, he had accepted her invitation to the opera.
As every Talon, she had her private box. The seats had been soft, heavily upholstered with covers made of red velvet. Garish, but the height of fashion this season. The furnishing of the opera house was still infinitely better than the play on stage. A comedy. Insubstantial and boring, but Teia had seemed to enjoy herself immensely. And for seeing her happy, he had noticed with some irritation, he was willing to bear a great deal of things.
More often than could have passed as simple coincidence, she had brushed her hands against his. Even through his leather gloves, every touch had made his skin prickle. In a rather good way. Better than the nervous sweat collecting on his palms throughout the evening, in any case.
He probably could still have left after the opera. But he found himself wanting to spend more time with her. Against better judgment. Against every last of his principles. What harm could there be in a dinner with a fellow Talon? Certainly none since he tested every course and the wine against the most common poisons before tasting them.
The last chance to leave with dignity had come when he brought her home. He let it pass.
"Thank you for the wonderful evening,” she had said.
“It was interesting. And strictly professional.” It had sounded weak even to his own ears. A miserable try to cling to the last remnants of his self-restraint.
"Of course." Her smile had been more mocking than her tone. Inviting and irresistible, too. And as always, it didn’t cease to make his heart beat faster. He should despise Andarateia for it.
Instead, he agreed to spend the night at one of her guest rooms.
“A strictly professional offer, Viago. My house is safer than any inn in Rialto. And I could not bear the thought of my favourite colleague being the target of potential danger while he resides in my hometown.”
The small part of his brain that had still functioned properly at this point had yelled at him to stop. To end this madness before it was irrevocably too late. Ignoring it, he had followed Teia into her den, where she had first lured him with another glass of wine and a discussion about the best strategy to defeat the Antaam invading their country. Then, their conversation had turned to art and flowers. Eventually, he didn’t even know how it had happened, she had leaned forward and kissed him. Without a second of hesitation, he had kissed her back. Urgently, thoroughly, with more passion than he knew he possessed. Getting each other undressed had been a blur of buttons and fabric and limbs. They had been naked before they even reached her bedchamber. From the moment he had carried her to her bed and sunk with her into the sheets, emotions, raw instinct and lust had overturned any remains of clear thinking.
It had been so long since he had let anybody this close, since he had allowed himself this kind of pleasure. Never before had it felt so good, so intense as it did with Teia. A dangerous assessment. One that could lead to spending another night with her. Or many. From there, he would only be a hair’s breadth away from falling in love with her.
He looked over his shoulder. Teia still hadn’t moved. It would be easy enough to leave now. It would be the sensible thing to do, to pretend that their night together hadn’t happened. To ignore the letters that would come, to not open the door when she would inevitably try to confront him. When they would meet again - at the next Talon meeting at the latest - he could simply choose not to talk to her. He was the recluse Crow, after all. Truth was, he did not wish to leave now. Madness, infatuation or love. No matter what had befallen him, he embraced it. Enjoyed it, even, as far as these things went. Even if he didn’t, he had crossed a line there was no coming back from. After tonight, he could never again convince himself that his feelings for her were strictly professional. That she was an ally and nothing more. How could he, now that he knew her taste, her smell, now that he had heard the sounds she made when she felt pleasure?
It was dangerous, of course. Emotions always were. They were messy things, unreliable, imprecise and volatile.
Even more dangerous not to keep them to oneself, but to act on them. To face the person that had captured one’s heart and be at their mercy. For many years, he had tried to avoid such entanglements. Successfully so. But with Teia, he suddenly felt the urge to open up, to be genuine. To be hers, completely.
For all his life, he had never trusted anybody, had watched his own back, because other people had proven to be unreliable over and over again. Teia was different, though. He was aware that his bliss-clouded mind made him careless, but it was a fact that she had not once let him down. They had collaborated on countless contracts and shielded the other if necessary. She had even saved his life once, years ago at the Verdant Isle. And she had asked him to stay after their love-making tonight.
Being with her posed an uncalculated risk. He would need to be vulnerable, to hand her his heart on a silver platter and hope she would not twist it any further. What he would get in return remained unclear. Bliss, doom, or anything in between.
He ignored the faint rustling of the sheets behind him, trying to come to a conclusion. All rationality was wiped from his mind when Teia wrapped her arms around him a moment later.
“Viago de Riva, you are unbelievable,” she purred, took the wine glass from him and emptied it in one sip.
“Coming from you this doesn’t sound like a compliment.” His voice was low, softer than he intended it to be.
“Getting dressed and preparing to leave right after making love doesn’t look like a compliment to me, either.”
“Firstly, if I had intended to leave right after, I would be halfway to Salle already. Secondly, you cannot expect me to stand on your balcony naked. Drawing a target on my face could not be more inviting for my foes.”
She put the wine glass on the railing, threw her head back and laughed. He swore he had never heard a sweeter sound. Regardless, he frowned. She was laughing about him, after all.
“My dearest Vi, I assure you my house is the safest place in all of Rialto. My guards make sure of it. You see, on a cosy night like this, I often stand here, naked as the day I was born, enjoying the wind on my skin. And until now, nobody has shot me.”
As alluring as the mental image of a naked Teia right here was, it could never keep up with the reality of her bare body pressed against him. He almost regretted the layers of fabric between them.
“And nobody will as long as I am standing.” His voice had gone from soft to hoarse in the matter of minutes. The things this woman did to him.
She laughed again, softer this time. “How sweet of you. I am almost inclined to overlook your earlier affront.”
He did not hesitate to intertwine their fingers when she took his hand.
“Although we need to work on your paranoia.”
“It’s called caution.”
“Whatever you say,” she purred, bringing her other hand up to his brow and stroking.
“What are you doing there?” The usual bite from his voice was missing, his expression already relaxing at her touch.
“As adorable as that little frown looks on you, you are more handsome without it.”
“You find me handsome?”
The swat against his arm was pinpoint, but it did not hurt. Because she did not want to hurt him. Not tonight. Maybe he was fortunate enough that she wouldn’t want to for a while longer.
“Handsome enough to want you back in my bed. At once."
“Impatience is a dangerous thing.”
“I have waited long enough for you, Viago de Riva. And therefore, I expect you to stay for breakfast.”
Apart from the visible passion, there was something else in her gaze. Something soft. Something that achieved to soothe the unease in his heart her request stirred.
“If you still want to be more than a footnote in my story, you should be present to play the part,” she whispered.
For a second, he could only stare at her. When his body started to obey him again, he nodded. Too eager for a Talon. Too indignant for a De Riva.
It didn’t matter. When her hand found the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss her, all of his doubts vanished. When the fingers of her other hand brushed through his hair, none of his worries mattered anymore.
Once they reached the bed and she made quick work of his coat and shirt, all that counted was her. And if Teia really proved to be his demise, he would embrace it with open arms.
There could be no sweeter poison to surrender to.