"You won't even wait for me to butter you up?" Nathaniel asked, faking offense. "How typical of you."
He kept the box just out of reach, and presented it carefully before pulling the ribbon off and letting it fall to the floor. The silver box had silver hinges just barely visible unless you were looking closely enough at it. Nathaniel opened the box and within lay a silk lining brimming with magic that kept the actual piece floating so that no matter the abuse to the box itself, the jewel would never break.
It was a beautiful piece. Carved ruby from the deepest caverns in the mountains. Metalsmithing only a dwarf could possibly master, and lined with runes along the edge. It gave the illusion of curling like fire, and - though Nathaniel wouldn't tell him - was fully capable of releasing some of that magic as a defense mechanism. Nathaniel would tell Markus eventually, but it was safer if he didn't.
He fished the jewel out. It was attached to a chain that felt unnaturally flexible, given the metal work. He unhooked the clasp, hung it around Markus's neck and kissed him as he fastened it back.
"There. Now we can go."
The door opened of its own accord. There was a carriage waiting for them attached to western dragons who did city work by pulling cargo and carriages. Apparently they charged quite a bit, but whatever they were hauling would make it to its destination safely. It was a luxury that only the most elite could afford. For Nathaniel, these dragons were paying off a debt from a hundred years ago to some person named Geoffrey. They were able to stay in the city and raise their families, and Nathaniel had transportation bodyguards.
He treated them well after all. You can twist someone's arm and treat them well at the same time if you did your twisting under a different name.
They arrived without incident. Of course they did.
The gala was not just to celebrate a new city leader. It was an opportunity for all the top socialites and governing officials to rub elbows with the man who called the shots, and to do a little underhanded business at the same time if they were that kind of governing official. And if they weren't? They would be replaced. Or killed. Or both.
"You're going to want to get out first, my love," Nathaniel said. "Make the first statement in your new role as 'the fashionable one' of the leaders. Corvids first."
He kept the box just out of reach, and presented it carefully before pulling the ribbon off and letting it fall to the floor. The silver box had silver hinges just barely visible unless you were looking closely enough at it. Nathaniel opened the box and within lay a silk lining brimming with magic that kept the actual piece floating so that no matter the abuse to the box itself, the jewel would never break.
It was a beautiful piece. Carved ruby from the deepest caverns in the mountains. Metalsmithing only a dwarf could possibly master, and lined with runes along the edge. It gave the illusion of curling like fire, and - though Nathaniel wouldn't tell him - was fully capable of releasing some of that magic as a defense mechanism. Nathaniel would tell Markus eventually, but it was safer if he didn't.
He fished the jewel out. It was attached to a chain that felt unnaturally flexible, given the metal work. He unhooked the clasp, hung it around Markus's neck and kissed him as he fastened it back.
"There. Now we can go."
The door opened of its own accord. There was a carriage waiting for them attached to western dragons who did city work by pulling cargo and carriages. Apparently they charged quite a bit, but whatever they were hauling would make it to its destination safely. It was a luxury that only the most elite could afford. For Nathaniel, these dragons were paying off a debt from a hundred years ago to some person named Geoffrey. They were able to stay in the city and raise their families, and Nathaniel had transportation bodyguards.
He treated them well after all. You can twist someone's arm and treat them well at the same time if you did your twisting under a different name.
They arrived without incident. Of course they did.
The gala was not just to celebrate a new city leader. It was an opportunity for all the top socialites and governing officials to rub elbows with the man who called the shots, and to do a little underhanded business at the same time if they were that kind of governing official. And if they weren't? They would be replaced. Or killed. Or both.
"You're going to want to get out first, my love," Nathaniel said. "Make the first statement in your new role as 'the fashionable one' of the leaders. Corvids first."
