LIRO || completed

• 13.2 •

The mud on their cheeks had long since gone cracked and dry, and Liro fought the urge to swipe it away with her thumb. Her skin itched beneath it, and despite the fact that no one would look twice at a dirty commoner, she felt herself wishing that she were above this.

Above hiding and scrambling for someone else's vision.

"This is absolutely ludicrous," Liro hissed, her lips barely moving as she spoke. Her mouth was close enough to Kier's ear that no one would think she were speaking to him; only that they were pushed too close in the tiny space. "We're the filthiest ones here."

"That was a conscious decision on my part," Kier deadpanned, keeping his head bent downwards as he took a small step away.

"Well I think people are staring."

"They're thinking low of us."

"I would prefer not to be looked at all. Any attention is not good for us. It does not take a skilled eye to see through this," Liro gestured calmly at her face, "... disguise."

Kier's eyes flashed. "I do believe you were asked to accompany me only as an assistant."

I was sent because I have my own skin at stake, and only the Queen and I know it. I'm here because if this man lives, and discovers the truth, I'll be the next body to be found.

Liro scowled. "I serve more of a purpose than that."

"I don't know if you've proven that."

Liro wasn't about to start an argument in the middle of a crowded side street, with tens of ears just itching for the latest gossip. She wasn't about to let something slip from her lips that had best remain a secret. And it wasn't too far a stretch to believe that Kier realized it as well, as he took another step away from her, holding his hand up as if to say, Not now.

If she strained her vision, she could see the hint of an apology in his eyes.

Somewhere along the alleyway, a doorway opened, and Liro and Kier were pulled into a small, poorly lit tavern as though there were an ocean current dragging them. Liro tripped and stumbled, and had her feet stepped on more times that she cared to admit before she was inside.

"What kind of troupe is this?" Liro hissed to Kier softly. "They don't seem very graceful."

Kier looked as though he agreed, though he wasn't prepared to admit it to her. He swallowed, glancing around before speaking to her. "I suppose they're saving themselves for the performance."

"Like hell they are." Liro couldn't hide her snort of amusement. "You singlehandedly selected the worst troupe of dancers in the kingdom." She smirked at him, a full blown grin lighting her face as she said, "I do believe we'll fit right in."

Kier gave her an odd look before turning away, scanning over the heads of many of the dancers. "What do you even suppose we're doing here?" He sounded the faintest bit annoyed that he himself didn't have the answer.

Liro pursed her lips. "They have to stay somewhere, I suppose."

Kier rose an eyebrow. "In a tavern?"

"Well they can't stay at the palace."

"They're performing for the King."

Liro looked at him incredulously. "And that hardly makes them royalty!" She took a deep breath, steadying her heart rate before speaking again. "Not just anyone can stay in the palace."

Kier wrinkled his nose as he looked around the tavern one more time. "Someplace less filthy would have been preferably."

"I'm sorry," Liro said mockingly, "but I wasn't aware that you had any say in the matter."

She must have annoyed him a great deal, because anyone in their position would have known that it was a terrible idea to split up. Especially when the room was packed with the faces of strangers and there was no possible way that Liro would be able to reach her weapons quickly, let alone wield them efficiently.

They had left the empty cart and their horse a while back, just outside the kingdoms gates, with the horse tied to a tree and food set within reach should the mare grow hungry. And as much as Liro hadn't wanted to, she had picked up her parcel of clothing and carried it into the kingdom. Kier had taken it from her and stashed them in the carriage that had transported the costumes for the troupe. It was easy enough to do so; next to the flashy chest encrusted with gold, their small packages looked to be nothing of interest.

A woman dressed in a dark swath of fabric stood above them all, clapping her hands three times before the room fell silent. Her entire body shimmered like onyx, the entirety of her dress had been adorned with tiny black gemstones. Liro was almost jealous; she looked imposing, and important. She held her head high, with one side of her face turned towards the wall.

With mud on her face, Liro felt as though she were little more than a single face among many. An indistinguishable wave in an ocean that constantly roared with motion.

"Rooms are upstairs," the woman said. "We rest for three hours, and then we change into costume." The tavern was silent as they waited for more. Liro was already formulating a plan, odds running rampant behind her eyes. "No eating before the performance, and no drinking."

At that, the inhabitants of the room grumbled.

The woman clapped her hands again, sharply. Liro blinked.

"Do none of you remember what occurred last time you had the audacity to drink before a performance?" Her glare was enough to cut through any disagreement that the dancers may have stirred. "No. Drinking."

Liro pressed her lips together, already moving through the sea of people that was preparing to come alive. She had to get to Kier.

The woman clapped again. "You may go."

The room sprung to life, and Liro nearly stumbled. Her eyes searched the room, looking for head head towering above the others.

Instead, at the top of the stairs, she saw a face that looked remarkably like her sisters.

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