Blueprint

10: Breakfast

Synelis had been left a nice little plate of pancakes under the bed.  It was a nice gesture, sure, but the maple syrup had already been poured over them by the time he woke up and they were thoroughly soaked. Unappetizing as they were, Synelis wouldn't refuse him. He was too hungry to be choosy.

He gathered the plate up, sliding himself out from under the bed and standing with it in hand. It felt rude to eat over Amari's bed, so he made his way over to the desk and set the plate on its top. He gripped the fork that was paired with it, poking at a melted pancake before trying his best to scoop it up. The mush seeped through the fork's prongs and back onto the plate, almost mocking him.

"Well," Synelis mumbled, sliding his gloves off so he didn't dirty them, "this is... unfortunate."

He gripped the sides of his plate, lifted it to his lips and proceeded to drink his breakfast.

They were quite possibly the best pancakes he'd ever had.

He set the plate back down on the desk, blinked, and then began to laugh.

"I'll be damned," he mused, "who would've known... melted pancakes."

He leaned back in the chair with a satisfied sigh, debating propping his feet up on the desk before deciding against it. Instead, he stood up, looked at the semicircle window above Amari's bed, and started to think.

By far, the safest avenue of escape would be through that tiny window — he'd have the least chance of encountering any guards, and he wouldn't have to worry about sneaking through hallways. However, it was in an awkward spot, and he'd have to climb on the bed posts to reach it — on top of trying to squeeze himself through such a small opening.

It was the safest option, but certainly not the best.

He began to pace in his own semicircle, walking from one side of the bed to the other before turning around and repeating the process — over, and over, and over. It helped him think.

He'd managed to concoct three different plans after nearly thirty minutes of pacing. The first, and by far his favorite, would be to cast and hold and illusion to turn himself into a guard, then quietly escape through the city. Once he was clear, he'd let the spell go and make for the nearest port — Isle Verborne had many — then, he would catch a ship to Wallendia or Racchen, and he'd never have to worry about being a Verbornian Outlaw again. But he'd have to worry about running out of magic, and if he ran out of magic with only his knife on him, he'd be practically defenseless.

His second plan, which was his least favorite, but could work in a pinch, would be to again take Amari hostage and use him as collateral until he could escape the city. That would leave him with the ever angry Captain Vuric to deal with, and considering her clear tendency towards violence, he didn't like that idea. It would work in a pinch, but there were a million things that could go wrong; Vuric could kill him. Amari could decide to go with Synelis — which, pleasant as the inventor was, would give the Verbornian government all the more reason to chase Synelis anywhere in the world. No, Synelis didn't like that idea at all, but he tucked it in the back of his mind anyway.

His third plan, which he didn't love or hate, was to enlist Amari's assistance to escape, whether through disguise or hiding — or anything else the inventor might come up with. Synelis certainly valued the Inventor's thoughts, but he didn't want to rely on anyone but himself. Hell, he wholly believed that the inventor wanted to help him, but he could never be sure Amari wouldn't turn him in. He had to be careful.

The handle on the door began to jostle, and Synelis felt his breath catch.

"Amari! I can hear you walking around in there — I wanna talk to you!"

Shit.

That wasn't Vuric's voice, at least, but having another person suspect his existence in the castle was the last thing he wanted. He looked around frantically for an exit, but all he could use was the bed skirt.

He dove for the bed, quietly as he could, and situated himself under the bed as carefully as he could.

"Amari, come on. I know you and Astrid are bickering right now, but I wanna know your side of the story. I'm coming in! ...You're not naked or anything, right?"

Synelis' eyes lit up. He conjured his illusion magic, feeling it wrap around his neck. Then, in Amari Alantar's voice, he said, "Very naked."

There was a pause, then a quick laugh from the other side of the door before the lock clicked. He could see, just barely through the skirt, a pair of light green dress shoes. "Amari, where are you hiding?" The woman asked, shutting the door behind her. She paced around the room for a bit, and Synelis held his breath the whole time. "...Come on, Amari. I'm getting sick of this."

He remained silent.

"You know what? Fine. I don't get why you won't talk to me, Amari. I thought we were friends. You know I'm not Astrid. You know I'll understand."

Then, she stamped towards the door, and he heard it open and shut.

He waited a few more moments before letting out a heavy exhale, feeling his heartbeat begin to slow to a more manageable pace. Then the bed skirt was lifted with absolutely no warning, and he found himself locking eyes with the Verbornian princess.

"Your highness," he muttered, and the princess dropped the bed skirt.

She stumbled back, and Synelis moved slowly out of the other side of the bed, so as not to scare her.

"You— you're not Amari."

"I'm not," he replied, calmly as he could, standing with his hands plainly visible. "But I mean you no harm. If you just forget you saw me —"

"You were at the bar."

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"Last night, at the Blind Sparrow's Bath. I saw you." She sounded hesitant, but not quite terrified.

He thought about her words, trying to recall which tavern he'd been staying at. She was right; that's where he'd been staying.

"You must be mistaken." He replied slowly, carefully.

"No, I'm sure of it. You were arguing with the bartender, and Astrid was acting like you were bad news — and I guess she was right."

Synelis gulped, debating whether or not he should conjure some magical defense. If attacking Alantar didn't get him killed, attacking the princess certainly would.

"This is just a big misunderstanding. Truly."

"Where's Amari?"

"How should I know?" He scoffed, accidentally allowing some amount of hostility into his words.

"You slimy shit," she spat, "where is he?"

He was startled to hear those words fall out of the princess' mouth,  but he kept his calm. "I don't know. I'm not his keeper. If anything, he's mine," Synelis muttered, "I haven't harmed him, or kidnapped him, or—"

He stopped when the door again began to open, ducking under the bed and holding his mouth.

"Hey, Sy—" he heard the inventor begin, before pausing, "...Jharvelle? What are you doing in here?"

"I came here to ask you something, but your friend told me all I needed." She replied, poison in her words.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. Just that there's a high elf hiding under your mattress, is all."