Rin Bonus Story: A Simple Mission (female Rin)

Whatever else is true of these nobles, they sure do know how to decorate. 

It’s the main thought running through my mind as I take in the elegant room our host has provided for today’s salon. Sunlight streams in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, filtered gently through sheer curtains. The enchantments on them filter out the heat from outside, but they’re so finely woven into the fabric I can’t see them, even when I stand right beside them. The furniture is made from some of the desert's rarer wood, much of it engraved with designs I recognize from local artisans.

“Wouldn’t do to have anything imported at this event, after all,” I mutter the observation under my breath as my eyes sweep the room, a polite smile plastered over my face as I nod to the handful of people I make eye contact with.

“Can I go yet?” Rin mutters back. “I still don’t see why I couldn’t have just blended in with the staff. I’d actually be useful there.”

“With your accent, I doubt it,” I raise a brow and look at her over my drink. “This salon is meant for House Ostrai to do business with the merchants’ guild. And they’re pushing back against foreign traders at the moment.”

“And one waiter from Dalusin’s going to mess with that?” she scoffs.

“Kind of,” I shrug and turn back to watching the room. “The whole point of this event is to be aggressively ‘local.’ Besides,” I chuckle, “you look good in formal wear.”

“I feel ridiculous.” 

I glance over and I swear she’s almost pouting. I don’t see the issue, myself - the robes Viara’s tailor designed came out incredible, if I’m any judge of fashion. The cool blue tones compliment Rin's skin, and the fit is tailored well to her toned frame. The dangling sapphire at her ear leaves me staring for a second, distracted by how well it compliments her silver eyes.

“You staring isn’t helping that feeling,” she says without looking at me.

“Sorry,” I snap my eyes away. “Look, we just need to figure out who here’s trying to outbid our client for the agate shipment. Hang in there, it won’t be so bad. It’s a simple mission.”

“Is that a pair of agents I see?” a light, airy voice calls to our left, and I see a finely dressed woman gliding towards us. She's arm in arm with a slightly older lady who, if I had to guess, looks to be her sister.

“Den Zarel sends its regards, ladies,” I bow slightly and smile.

“But for what purpose, I wonder?” her brown eyes sparkle with excitement. “Diplomacy, adventure, or... perhaps something even more interesting?”

“Sina, enough,” the older woman scolds her gently, and offers me her own greeting. I can feel Rin shrinking into the background behind me and gently step on her toe as I continue the conversation. Oh no you don't, I think. We're in this together.

“I’m going to start screaming,” she mutters when we’ve finished our third iteration of the same interaction. “Why are they all obsessed with us being agents?”

“You really don’t do diplomatic work, do you?” I chuckle. “We’re part of the fun. A lot of the younger nobles see us as mysterious people who go to the wilds, and spy here at home. Which, you know, we are technically doing right now.”

“Fat lot of good it’s doing us,” she sighs. “We’ve got nothing.”

“Actually, those conversations eliminated a few possible bidders for the shipment we’ve been sent to investigate” I disagree. “We’re doing alright. I give it another two hours. Then we’ll disappear to snoop through – Rin?” I stop, realizing she’s gone. I look around as subtly as I can, then suppress a groan as I see her duck into a hallway off the main room, waving for me to follow just before she disappears.

“What are you doing?” I hiss as I catch up.

“Speeding things up,” she replies, cracking open each door and using a charm to check for magical alarms as she goes.

“We were supposed to snoop after we’d talked with everyone at the salon,” I sigh. “But, alright, fine. If we get caught I’m blaming you, you know.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.” I’m glad she isn’t looking at me when she says it – no need for her to see the tiny flush that hits my cheeks at the pet name.

“We’re not even likely to find anything here,” I grumble as we sort through what seems to be a little-used office. “They’d have anything sensitive locked... up...” I trail off as I pick up a folded note, cast hastily onto a runner table as though its owner realized they were running late after receiving it.

It has a name, and a few numbers that look a lot like a quantity and a price.

“Well,” I hum. “I guess even professionals slip up, sometimes.”

“What was that about us not finding anything?” Rin smirks. “Something about–”

The door creaks behind us, and we both freeze. Before I can react Rin moves, quick as lightning, and suddenly I’m backed against the table with her hand on my thigh, breath hot on my skin as her lips meet the side of my neck. I stutter a shaky breath in as someone steps into the room.

“Oh– I...” I can hear the embarrassment in the person’s voice as they take in the sight of us. Rin’s head lifts slowly up, and she gives a look that says go away so strongly I can't blame the newcomer for the moment of hesitation that flashes across their face. It'd make me nervous, too, if I wasn’t so distracted by the contrast of cold and heat at my skin, where Rin's rings and hand press against my bare arm.

“Sorry,” I say quickly, touching gently on Rin’s hips and straightening up, my face hot as the sun outside. She moves away without protest, offering a smile and apology to the noble. It’s painfully insincere, but it almost seems to help with the act.

We leave the soiree early, our business concluded and my composure not able to stand much more after that, anyway. I pause on the steps outside for a brief second, taking in a breath of fresh air with relief.

“I think that went well,” Rin’s voice hums softly over my shoulder, achingly close to where she’d kissed me a moment ago.

“Still wish you’d gone as a waiter?” I say without turning around, letting my teasing tone cover the way I swallow hard before replying.

Rin chuckles in a low tone as we resume walking. “Maybe,” she replies. “Would that have gotten me more, or less time in that room with you?”

It’s a question I spend a little too much time thinking about on the trip back to the Den.