Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

"You look like shit." Rhythe slid onto the barstool next to mine, plucking a piece of bacon off my plate.

I turned my heavy lidded gaze to him, jaw set to a hard frown. "Long night. Or rather, early morning." I slid the plate in front of him, my appetite diminished.

He forked a bite of potatoes in his mouth. "Problems?" he asked with a full mouth.

"Always." I sighed, stretching my arms behind my back and listening to the pops run up my spine. I should have been prepared for all of this. I knew I needed to initiate contact with mine and my father's old network. Perhaps our agents were still operating across Skyrim. "There's a lot of work to be done."

"And that's why you're eating breakfast here at the inn," he said through a mouthful of oatmeal. "I'd have thought the palace was a better place to eat."

"It is, if you don't mind being watched under constant guard." I shifted around in my seat, the uneven legs of the stool thump-thump-thumping back and forth. "Being watched all the time, it's exhausting." Yet, even here, I was certain there were agents of Amret or even Mikald keeping an ear to the ground here.

"Your sister left this morning," he said after a swallow. "That's one thing you don't have to stress about anymore, right?"

"Half-sister," I corrected, more a reflex than anything else at this point. "And maybe. She's unpredictable and wild, as likely to do the opposite of what I ask her. But she gets the job done, that much I can attest to." I sighed again, rubbing my watery eyes with the heel of my palm. There was at least one person in this city that could move around relatively unmolested. I hoped. "Have you learned anything?"

"Apparently a Thalmor agent led a siege against Fort Greenwall only to be defeated by a woman riding atop a great wolf," he said with a straight face. "The Thalmor agent got away, but only because it summoned a Daedra to keep the wolf-woman occupied."

"Where did the Daedra even come from? These stories become more and more far-fetched with every passing day."

"That's how stories become legends, Dragontooth."

I rolled my eyes at him and he returned a smirk. "Anything else?"

After a gulp of his juice, he nodded. "A merchant caravan from Markarth just got here yesterday. Apparently the roads through the Reach are mysteriously free of Forsworn. And there are rumors of a dragon roosting somewhere in the mountains."

"A dragon," I deadpanned.

"Yep, some travelers claimed to have heard a dragon shout somewhere in the mountains a few weeks back. The jarl has even put out a bounty for confirmation of the dragon's whereabouts, even more for its head. And Markarth has had an influx of 'acclaimed' dragon hunters due to the bounty."

"Dammit," I hissed. "I'll bet Cidhna Mine is full to bursting with all those vagabonds running about. I'll send word to the jarl about this bounty of his." Increasing crime rates led to unneedful attention, it caused harsher crackdowns by the guards and led to civil unrest.

A serving girl approached us, smiling and strutting her hips. Her dark blue eyes passed over me like I wasn't even there and settled on Rhythe. She squeezed herself into the narrow space between us, effectively blocking me out. "Is there anything at all I can get you, handsome?" She brushed a piece of curly red hair behind her ear and batted her long eyelashes at him. It was everything I could do not to snort.

"Uhh," he stammered, shooting a glance around her to me.

I raised an unhelpful eyebrow at him, fighting the urge to laugh. I waved my hand at him, urging him to continue. He narrowed his eyes at me in frustration before returning to the serving girl.

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