Oath of Steel

33 |Unveiled Emotions|

If someone was ever going to tell Rosalynde that one day she would have cross-dressed as a wealthy gentleman from the countryside in search of fortune, infiltrating into the paradise of the upper-class male counterpart, all while trying to undercover the secrets of a socialite group which roots had been apparently eradicated twenty years ago she would have simply scoffed before throwing the poor advisor into the jaws of the hungry beasts.

But things had changed, she didn't even realize when they had actually started changing.

The change had come like a lunar tide, or how Pharah would have said with her usual philosophical mannerism, as natural as the cycle of life and death.

She hadn't noticed it, she hadn't felt it creep inside her bones and mind. When she finally started noticing the change, it was too late for her.

She was not used to this- to someone actively watching her back.

Companionship curiously was something pretty unknown to Rosalynde. It was like walking on the same road for years without looking around to take in the scenery. While keeping the head down with the eyes fixed on the uneven stone people failed to take in the details around.

Rosalynde roughly knew what companionship meant but had never bothered seeking out what it really meant for the soul, to be bound by something more than mutual interests.

There was no bother lying to herself for once. The whole situation had unsettled her from the very start.

What she had established with Grey was different from what she had with Pharah, which in turn was different from whatever she and Katherine seemed to have.

They'd followed Heriom's advice, turning left right after their eyes had landed on the male restrooms. Sneaking around had proven itself more impervious than expected.

The problem did not depend on the actual level of the guards and attendants scattered around the clubhouse. The actual problem laid in the numbers. The attendants seemed to multiply on themselves, one for every member of the club, while the guards seemed to round every corner before they did.

Rosalynde had suggested the quickest way to deal with such tedious pests, reminding him that everything could have been easily resolved by dragging a few in isolated places before knocking them out, but Grey had been able adamant in his decision.

Unexpected deaths would have just arisen the suspicious of others, and that was the last thing they needed in that moment.

"What gruesome things are you thinking of now?" Grey suddenly interjected at her side.

They had arrived at the designated location. A dead-end no different from ordinary. With an iron umbrella rack in one corner, an exotic plant with its origins the overseas and an exquisite painting of a young dame hailing from a different time.

There was a problem tho, no matter where they looked, there was not a single pearl in sight.

"In your opinion, how much time would it take to burn this place to the ground?" She asked, casting him a casual as she tried cracking a joke.

"Depends on how much fuel you want to add and where you want to place it," for the tone of his voice has assumed, she knew he was not jesting this time. "We don't have much time," Grey then continued.

He got closer to the painting, careful to not touch the actual canvas he made his fingers slide around the golden frame.

"What are you doing?" Rosalynde had stayed far from the watching dame, keeping watch of the empty hallways.

"Come here." He gestured for her to come closer.

Cautiously she made her way closer to him. Standing by his side she cast him another long inquisitive look.