Chapter 18.2 Crusoe

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Part 2

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"Miss Crusoe will see you now," a young man says with a smile.

"'Bout time," I grumble. The waiting room is a pleasant enough place, if you like opulence and obvious displays of power and wealth. I'm not saying it's a bad look.

"You should keep thoughts like that to yourself," Icarus advises. (like a dog on a leash)

"Never seems to stop you from spouting technobabble nonsense," I point out, adjusting my mask. Every time he has the chance, Icarus is bound to show off. And if I'm going to avoid getting any further in bed with the Last Brigade and Alarice Crusoe, I'll be counting on that in this "meeting". Alarice Crusoe in bed. Hm, now that is certainly something to investigate further. You know, after I avoid being caught up in a possible revolutionary war. (and avoid being stabbed in the back by those closest to you) Yes, well, a man's gotta have priorities.

Esilea has mostly been silent, both during our journey here, and in waiting to see Crusoe and Vioda. Seeing the tall warrior so focused and silent is almost a bit...terrifying. Behind the fun exterior, I'm starting to see why she's such an expensive sellsword.

She wheels Icarus through the double doors and I trail behind. I catch the eye of the assistant as he closes the door behind us; he almost looks at us with...pity?

"Icarus! So glad you could make our meeting," Alarice says from behind her large desk. Does every powerful person have a huge ass piece of wood in their office? Guess it comes with the ego. (good one) Thank you. And now I'm talking to myself. The powerful merchant doesn't get up from behind her desk, and I wouldn't call the face she's making a smile per say. The room feels uninviting, and chilly.

"I can't thank you enough for giving me this opportunity," Icarus gushes, wheeling himself forward out of Esilea's grasp, who frowns. Save it for someone who cares, boy. Nobody wants to hear your fountain of sickly sweet affection. (is that because he never shows it to you? or is it because nobody ever shows that to you?)

"It was supposed to be only Icarus," Vioda says with an icy tone. Her dark dreads are pulled back in a strict bun, her twin swords prominently displayed on her belt. "The others should wait outside."

"I'd like to see you try," Esilea scoffs, the scars on her face twisting into a predatory smirk.

"Is that a challenge?" Vioda hisses, her hands going to the hilt of her blades.

"Is there a dreadlocked bitch standing in front of me?" Esilea snaps back, slinging the top of her satchel open.

"You insolent—"

"I think we're getting off-track here," Icarus says, wiping sweat from his brow. Oh come on, it was just starting to get good! (they always spoil your fun. when was the last time you were free?) He clears his throat and wheels closer to Alarice. "I apologize for my companion's rude remarks. They can both wait outside." Hey! What did I do?

"That won't be necessary," Alarice says with a wave of her hand. She turns and gives me a tight-lipped smile. "Agents of Inari are always welcome at Crusoe Exports."

"Alaraice—" Vioda starts, but Crusoe cuts her off.

"They will stay," she says firmly.

"But if I could just—"

"Need I remind you who is funding your little 'revolution'?" Alarice whispers quietly. Goosebumps race up my arms, and I resist the urge to shiver. The chill in her voice could freeze a desert. "Apologize, now."

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