In the meantime, I'll take solace in the fact this is technically the continuation of the pilot, in that it mostly fleshes out the motivations and points of view of some characters - especially Beatrix. Enjoy!**************
Azeneth was combing Aisha’s hair.
Yuka’s former adventure companion was still a close friend of the family. Officially, she was one of Rashid’s advisers, which allowed her to stay at the palace, and to regularly see Yuka, Rashid and their children. For the twins and Ahmed, she was akin to an aunt.
The princess was maybe a free-spirited young woman looking for her independence. However, there were times in which she enjoyed being groomed, the same way as when she was a child. Of course, she never admitted it out loud. However, nobody was fooled.
When Aisha was younger, Yasmin was always the one brushing her hair, and she would then do the same… Sadly, as years went by, the two sisters had drifted apart.
“I don’t understand…” Aisha was quietly complaining. She was sitting curled up on her bed, with her knees against her breasts.
Azeneth smiled patiently. “You were brave and resourceful, that nobody denies. The problem is that these qualities are lost if they aren’t used efficiently...”
“I don’t understand Mother! When she was my age, she was doing dangerous infiltration missions all the time!”
“When she was your age, she was also an outcast among her people, she had to kill her own clan sister, and she lost a close friend. She simply doesn’t want you to live through the same things.”
Embarrassed, Aisha bit her lower lip. “I know Mother lived through a lot… Even now, she still misses Hinata, Tsuki, and Coulter… I didn’t mean to- to disrespect her…” She put her chin on her knees, and whispered. “I just want to be like her...”
Azeneth put a hand on her shoulder. “I understand your feelings.” The metis paused. “I suppose I’m partly to blame too. I’m the one who kept telling you the tales of our adventures when you were a kid...”
“But I loved those tales!”
“And I should have been more careful when talking about Esteban. I should have known it’d give you ideas...”
Aisha hesitated to broach the subject of what happened at the embassy. Currently, she was supposed to be punished. Confined to the palace, and only allowed to leave for outings scheduled by her parents. However, since Azeneth had left an opening…
“Why did Father send you at the embassy?”
“To see Esteban and Tzi-Ya? Because I know them. I used to have a life before I met Rashid, you know… My father was a merchant. So were Esteban’s and Tzi-Ya’s families. They were business partners. That’s how I met them, when my father settled in Millhaco.”
“Esteban and Tzi-Ya were your friends?”
Azeneth hesitated.
“They were more than friends.”
Aisha frowned. Then the realization dawned upon her. She became very flustered. “You… You did-”
“Of course.”
“With the two of them? At the same time?”
“Yes. And so did Esteban with the two of us. And Tzi-Ya with Esteban and I.”
Aisha tried to picture a young Azeneth sharing a bed with Esteban and Tzi-Ya. At the same time. She put her hands on her cheeks. “Oh my… Oh my!”
“We were young, and very much in love.”
“Then what happened?”
“Life, I suppose. Esteban and Tzi-Ya were taking the relationship a lot more seriously than me. That’s why they stayed together. Then, they left Millhaco for the East. They wanted to explore the world.” Azeneth chuckled bitterly. “Whatever they saw, it changed them…” The metis shook her head. “The friends I once knew are dead. No need to dwell on the past.”
She fell silent, and Aisha chose to not bother her anymore with the topic.
**************
Carrying messages to the royal palace was seen as a great honor, as well as a big responsibility. Therefore, only the best members of the messenger guild could do it.
It was Malika’s first shift to the palace. The young woman was living her dream.
The messenger was wearing an ample white long-sleeved dishdasha and black shoes, as well as a checkered red-and-white headdress, a matching checkered red-and-white keffieh, a matching checkered red-and-white sash tied around her waist, and a gold medallion of an albatross that were the symbols of her guild. She was carrying a brown leather pouch to transport written messages.
Malika adjusted her mid-back-long low ponytail. She wanted to look impeccable in front of the palace’s officials. The young woman had light brown hair, a tanned skin, and green eyes. She had a short thin silhouette. Her face was oval-shaped, with sharp cheekbones.
West of the palace, there was an immense garden which had been maintained for decades by Ghazan’s kings. It was one of the capital city’s wonders. People were allowed to wander freely among the trees, flowers, and bushes.
Whenever she could, Malika liked to go through this green area during her assignments. She enjoyed the coolness and the fresh air.
In this moment of the afternoon, the area was quiet. Most people were working, and the destitute never bothered to loiter in the area. No opportunity to find a work, no people to whom they could beg for money.
Malika was listening to the birds singing. Regularly, she could hear some rustles in the leaves whenever a bird flew away.
Therefore, she didn’t worry when she heard a rustle in a bush right next to her.
She should have...
Someone tackled her. They grabbed her from behind, unbalanced her, and made them both fall. They landed behind some bushes, concealing their two figures.
Malika yelped.
However, a thick rag was clamped over her mouth, and muffled her cries for help. The piece of cloth was soaked with something which smelled foul.
The mugger was lying under her victim. She wrapped her legs around Malika’s own legs to immobilize them, and wrapped her other arm around Malika’s upper-arms and torso to block them.
Malika struggled widly. Her pelvis went up and down several times, but she didn’t manage to break from her mugger’s grip. Her moans for help were silenced by the thick piece of cloth. She realized too late the smelly potion soaking the rag was, in fact, some sort of narcotic. She started to feel dizzy. Stars were dancing in front of her eyes. The world started to spin.
Malika’s eyelids fluttered. Her struggles grew weaker, so did her moans for help.
“Just relax…” her mugger whispered in her ear. “I’ll take over from here…”
This was the last thing Malika heard before her mind lapsed into unconsciousness. Her eyes closed, and her body relaxed onto her attacker. She was in a deep sleep now.
Malika’s mugger smiled.
She pushed away the messenger’s unconscious body, and stretched. Then, after checking that nobody had seen her assault, she rolled Malika onto her back and untied her cloth sash. She rolled up and pulled off the ample dishdasha, then removed the headdress and keffieh. Finally, she untied and took off the shoes. Malika was left clad in a forest green knee-long underdress with short sleeves, and a thin blue sash wrapped around the waist like a belt.
The mugger stuffed a rolled-up piece of cloth into Malika’s mouth, and tied the rag soaked with sleeping potion around her lower-face to gag her – and to make sure she’d stay asleep for the rest of the day. She was carrying a few coils of ropes hidden under her plain clothes, and therefore used some to restrain the unconscious messenger. Bound hand and foot, the unlucky messenger – now divested of her pouch and of her uniform – was left concealed under a bush.
Malika’s attacker slipped into the messenger dishdasha, then tied the headdress, the keffieh and the cloth sash. She put on the shoes – thankfully they weren’t too tight – and grabbed the leather pouch containing the messages.
The mugger smiled. The dishdasha was ample enough to conceal the remaining ropes she was carrying. She knew she’d probably need an other disguise once inside the palace...
**************
When Azeneth finished combing Aisha’s hair, the latter hesitated. There was something she wanted to ask, but she feared the metis would refuse to answer. She carefully chose her words:
“What is the threat with don Esteban exactly? I’ve heard you talk about it with Father several times, but I never managed to get the full story.”
Azeneth didn’t answer, but Aisha could picture her raising her eyebrows.
“It won’t give me bad ideas!” the princess quickly added. (Though Aisha knew deep down inside she was maybe lying.) “But if I know the full picture, it’ll prevent me from taking rash decisions.” she justified herself.
“I suppose you have a point. And I know you’ll try something stupid to get these information if I don’t tell you.” Azeneth conceded.
Then she started to explain: “Some of the kingdoms across the ocean have powerful armies and advanced technologies, but little magic. The Mages were a nuisance and a threat to our entire continent, but they had one benefit. Their mere presence was keeping at bay any greedy would-be invader from oversea. There’s no use in sending a well-equipped army if a group of Mages rain down destruction on them before they land... Even before Ce-Acatl came to power, there already was no nation that could truly threaten Pakal – save for the ones which had access to a powerful magic as well. It wasn’t for nothing the only neighbors which had managed to resist conquest were Gengis and Ghazan, the two which had a magic that could nullify the Mages’ powers. I suppose if we had let Ce-Acatl have his way, he’d have eventually sent fleets to conquer other continents…”
Azeneth paused, briefly lost in the memories of her past fights.
“Anyway. Now that the Mages are truly gone, the powerful nations of the Old Continent are becoming bolder… Felipe, Kin, the United Lands... They all wish to expand their sphere of influence. Through conquest, through trade, or through deceit. Ghazan is the main obstacle to their plans. Gengis and the Northern Kingdoms are divided, Pakal is weakened. Esteban is an agent sent to spy and destabilize our kingdom.”
Aisha winced. “The pirates’ raids are destabilizing our kingdom…” she commented.
Azeneth nodded. “The coincidence is a little big, isn’t it? But we have no proof. And, more importantly, we don’t know who is giving the orders. Felipe is the most logical choice, but we can’t launch accusations without certitudes… Esteban is a wild card. He’s officially working for Felipe, but I’m convinced he’ll gladly do anyone’s dirty work if the reward is worth it… I suspect that’s even his plan. He makes it look like he works for Felipe. Then he enjoys the diplomatic incident we create when we accuse his kingdom, and it turns out we’re wrong...” Azeneth moved her head to look Aisha in the eyes. “That’s why your parents are so angry. They are worried for you… Esteban is not a man to trifle with lightly. And his employers, even less.”
Aisha remained quiet.
“One thing is certain. Our enemies are clever and sneaky. In fact, they may be trying to assess our defenses as we speak…” Azeneth concluded.
**************
The royal palace was the most well-protected place of El Idriss, but entering it was still pretty easy if one had the right clothes and the right attitude. The messenger’s outfit and letters allowed her to fool the guards. Her acting skills fooled the steward. She gave the man the letters Malika was supposed to deliver, and was told to wait because they had messages to give to her.
She took advantage of the situation to watch the area.
While entering the palace was easy, actually infiltrating its core was close to impossible. Each person who arrived was watched by two guards, one man and one woman. One glance at their way of walking allowed her to see they were trained in close combat. Guests were assigned a room, and were forbidden to leave it unless authorized to do so.
One can easily see the Queen was a mistress of infiltration and disguise once...
She groaned. Stealing the messenger’s outfit had been a waste of time. She wouldn’t be able to reach the target she had in mind...
The steward returned inside the room, with a pile of letters. Through the door he had left open, the fake messenger noticed a group of servant passing in the corridor. She recognized the one leading them. Ezgi, the personal maid of Aisha. They were carrying practical, and discreet, outer clothes.
... or maybe not.
Pretending to want to have a casual chit-chat before she left, she asked: “Is one of the princesses going to leave the palace today?”
“Yes. Princess Aisha. She’s going incognito. Not surprising. After her latest stunt, her parents want to keep her busy...”
She smiled. The steward seemed to be a real gossip. Making him reveal where Aisha was supposed to go would be easy…
“Please. Do tell.”
**************
Azeneth and Aisha were interrupted by the arrival of Ezgi and a group of maids.
“Princess. We’re here to help dress you up for your trip to the Great Library.”
Aisha’s parents had imposed spending the entire afternoon here on her. She would study treaties of politics, meant to show her the dire consequences when a ruler made bad decisions. It was part of her punishment.
The metis got up. “That’s my cue. I’m gonna leave your here.” She eyed Ezgi, and winked. “You’re in capable hands…”
Aisha did her best to hide her embarrassment.
Azeneth left the bedroom. The maids put the discreet outer clothes Aisha was supposed to wear on a chair.
“Thank you, girls. You can take a break. I’ll handle things myself.” Ezgi ordered them.
The other maids giggled and smiled, then left.
The plump head servant moved behind Aisha, and started to remove the princess’ interior dress.
“It was nice from Azeneth to spend some time with you.”
“I wish I could talk to my parents. I’ve barely seen them since my return. But they’re too busy...” Aisha looked at her feet, feeling ashamed. “… too busy trying to undo the mess I made...”
There was a short pause.
“You look so down…” Ezgi commented.
“They all see me as a good-for-nothing troublemaker. My parents. My brother. My sister. Even Azeneth.”
Ezgi was one of Aisha’s few confidants. The princess would discuss with her personal matters which she wouldn’t bring up with anyone else – outside of maybe Azeneth. Personal matters she wouldn’t discuss with her family, even with Yasmin.
Well… There used to be a time she would discuss them with Yasmin… But she and her twin had drifted apart for years now...
The plump servant finished peeling off Aisha’s dress, leaving her clad in her underclothes. “I know what will make you feel better…” Her hands started to wander under Aisha’s underwear, onto her stomach and breasts.
“Am I not supposed to get dressed to leave?”
“Then it’s a good thing I came ten minutes earlier than scheduled…” Ezgi’s whispers were soft and sensual. “Now close your eyes, and relax...”
The princess bit her lower lip when the gentle caresses began. But she was still having depressing thoughts.
“We won’t be able to do this forever. My parents haven’t told me yet, but I know they’re being pressured to arrange my political marriage. Their faction isn’t strong enough for them to ignore alliance propositions. Father is looking for potential husbands. I won’t be allowed to make you- I mean, you’ll never be allowed to be something more than a-”
Aisha couldn’t bring herself to say the word ‘mistress’. She thought it sounded vulgar and cruel out loud.
Ezgi remained quiet for a moment. She understood well what her lover was meaning. Then her hands started to move again. “All the more reasons to enjoy the moment as much as we can…”
Her hands went lower, and her caresses sent shivers down Aisha’s entire body. When Ezgi started to kiss her neck, she closed her eyes and surrendered completely.
For a brief moment, she could forget about everything…
**************
Beatrix pensively crossed her arms.
Esteban Mendoza’s letter was safely hidden in an inner pocket of her cloak.
So much money… He was offering so much money… Beatrix had never betrayed a contract before, but for the first time in her life, she was tempted to do so.
“Beatrix?”
She could hire the best healers for Mira… Halil wouldn’t need to worry about supplies for years… Maybe he could even extend the hospice…
“Beatrix?!”
She didn’t even like Aisha. Damn pampered brat… Taking things lightly… Looking down on her...
“BEATRIX! You’re with me?”
The redhead blinked. “Of course I am!”
Halil eyed her. “You sure? You were… staring.”
“I was NOT having memories of the war!”
The man raised his hands. “Okay, okay… It’s just… You’ve already done a lot lately. You can rest this bounty out, if you want.”
Beatrix rolled her eyes. “Please! You know anyone better suited than me for the task?”
“I guess not. But what about your partner?”
Beatrix shrugged. Rasha hadn’t attempted to contact her since the disastrous outcome of Aisha’s infiltration, but it wasn’t surprising. The thief would come back soon enough, the next time she, or Aisha, had an other mission for her.
“She won’t mind me getting a job on the side.”
Plus, Rasha was always amused when Beatrix got rid of the competition for her.
Halil didn’t insist. He suspected the redhead’s illegal shenanigans, but as long as he had no first-hand knowledge of them, he’d have plausible deniability. They couldn’t risk the hospice being shut down. “I see. Just remember we’re in El Idriss. The city watch doesn’t appreciate when things are needlessly bloody…”
Beatrix didn’t understand people who wanted to play nice. During war, playing nice would get you killed. “Got it. I’m the best to dispatch infiltrators either way.”
During the siege of Millhaco, during the war, the Pakal army would regularly send ocēlōmehs – soldiers trained in guerrilla warfare and infiltration. These men and women would slit a sentry’s throat, take their uniform, and infiltrate the camp for sabotage or assassination missions.
Eleven times, an ocēlōmeh had tried to slit Beatrix’s throat and to take her uniform.
Eleven times, an ocēlōmeh had died.
**************
Today’s bounty was a so-called mistress thief called Sireen the Snake.
Halil had heard she was planning to commit a heist today, at the manor of a merchant of El Idriss named Nadir Colak. While Halil was the owner of the veteran’s hospice, he also had many contacts within the city watch, the town’s beggars, and even the underworld – though in the latter’s case, only through indirect means.
The goal was to catch Sireen red-handed, and cash in the reward.
Beatrix had heard about her quarry from Rasha. According to the redhead’s partner, Sireen was a woman of average skill and little imagination, hopelessly enamored with the tales of the queen’s exploits.
Many people of the current generation had heard of Yuka’s adventures. That included the underworld. Unwillingly, the queen had become some sort of model for an entire generation of cat burglars who longed to emulate her tactics. Rasha and Sireen included.
Beatrix was walking the streets, clad in a desert cloak. Her jezail was wrapped in several pieces of cloth. From afar, it could look like some worjer's tool.
Nadir Codak’s manor was a cozy building in a good neighborhood, with an inner patio and garden. However, the owners weren’t rich enough to live in the best area of the city. In this part, people didn’t have enough money to own the land around their houses. Therefore, the buildings were still built close to one another, and still formed tight alleyways.
After a careful observation of the surroundings, Beatrix suspected her target either was looking for a disguise or was already in disguise. Since Sireen wanted to act in broad daylight, to take advantage of the owner's absence, it was her best course of action.
The redhead carefully entered the alleyways near the manor.
Alcoves in alleyways were Rasha’s favorite outdoor hiding spots. Beatrix knew they were the first place to search.
Working with the thief had its benefits…
**************
The Great Library was a huge building structured around a vast inner-patio and a colorful garden of flowers and trees.
The dishdasha of the messenger guild was perfect to walk the streets undisturbed, but if she wanted to reach her princess, she’d need something a little more innocuous-looking…
Thankfully, in the afternoon, access to the library was free and open to all. (Well, to all people who wore clean clothes at least. A beggar better not try to enter the building…) Among the people searching for information, there were lone women. And among these lone women, some were of the right size.
She searched for the best prey, and spotted one who looked like an important woman.
She was an elegant lady clad in fancy clothes. Clearly this was someone who had a servant to dress her up. Just by the woman’s way of walking, one could see she was self-important.
An aristocrat or a merchant. Either way, a rich woman.
Rich folk were easy to manipulate.
Time to bluff her way through once more...
**************
Leyla Saban was the wife of a successful merchant. She was a brown-haired green-eyed dark-skinned beauty, with a curvy body and an average height. Her hair were braided.
The woman was wearing a deep purple long jalabiya. Gold arabesques were woven on the sleeves, and around the collar. The torso was adorned with floral arabesques made of black threads. Her hijab was a matching purple. A bright red cloth sash was tied around her waist. She was also wearing black sandals, and gold hoop earrings. Around her neck, there was a locket with the crest of the Saban family.
Leyla was hoping to one day be introduced to the best social circles of the capital city. Therefore, she cultivated the image of a well-learned distinguished person. And to achieve that, what better way than to be regularly seen at the Great Library?
“Please excuse me, my lady.”
Leyla paused, and looked at the woman who had interrupted her walk.
She was an official messenger. Leyla recognized the outfit and the medallion of an albatross.
The woman glanced at the locket Leyla was wearing. “Are you from the Saban family?”
“I am Leyla Saban, yes.”
“Thank the Prophet! I was told you’d be here. I’m glad I found you. I have a message for you.”
“I wasn’t expecting a message.”
“It’s from the Aksandar Guild. I dare not deliver it to you in the open. There are too many ears and eyes…”
Leyla’s interest was peaked. The Aksandar Guild, Ghazan's most powerful merchant guild, had a message for her?
Had her efforts finally payed? She knew it was only a matter of time before they noticed her. Someone of her pedigree obviously belonged to the most elite social circles of the town...
Leyla resisted the urge to smile. It would have been un-ladylike. “Then, shall we go to a place more private?”
“Please, follow me.”
The messenger led her in a quiet alleyway near the Great Library. They could still quietly hear the noises of the streets, but for any passerby they were now invisible.
“So. What’s the message?” Leyla eagerly asked.
The other woman gave her a rolled parchment.
Leyla opened it, and read. There were only two words.
‘Sweet dreams.’
The messenger hit the back of Leyla’s head with a blackjack.
“Ugh!”
Everything went black.
**************
The fake messenger smiled when the unconscious merchant woman sagged at her feet. The ‘Sweet Dreams’ message was probably too much, but she couldn’t resist.
Rich people were all the same. They all thought the world was revolving around them. Just wave under their nose the promise of more power or money, and they jump right into the trap…
She dragged Leyla by the legs further into the alleyway, and stripped the merchant of her garments.
“Fancy clothes… I like them…”
Plus, the hijab would come in handy to hide she wasn’t the real Leyla Saban. After she pulled it off, she removed the sandals.
“Nice feet… I see one woman who takes great care of her soles…”
Finally, she unlaced the cloth sash, snagged the earrings and locket, and slipped off the jalabiya.
Once she was finished, Leyla was left clad in a band of emerald green cloth wrapped around the breasts and the middle of the back, and orange tight underpants that were only covering the pelvis.
“Even the underclothes are fancy… Almost tempted to take them for myself...”
But time was of the essence. Still, better make sure Leyla couldn’t crash the entire operation… She cut Malika’s discarded dishdasha into strips, and used them to tie up Leyla. She bound the woman’s wrists, forearms, shoulders, thighs, and ankles. Finally, she gagged and blindfolded her with strips of Malika’s keffieh.
The trussed up unconscious woman was left concealed in a tight alleyway between two buildings, alongside what was left of the messenger uniform.
The intruder slipped into her new disguise, including the jewels and sandals
A couple of minutes later, a rich-looking woman clad in deep purple outer clothes and a bright red sash, hiding her face with a hijab, was entering the Great Library.
**************
As often, her hunch proved to be correct.
Beatrix’s search was rewarded by the discovery of a scantily-clad woman concealed curled up in a small alcove, with white bandages wrapped around the chest and thin grey undershorts as her only clothes. She was bound hand and foot, and gagged with a thick scarf. Her eyes were closed, and her breath was slow. She had been drugged.
The woman had closely-cropped black hair save for a short ponytail, and a dark skin. Beatrix checked her hazel brown eyes to see if she was deeply unconscious or could be woken up. Unfortunately, the girl would stay out of commission for a couple. Her face smelled of narcotic potion. Her hands were calloused, and she had well-toned arms and legs.
Beatrix recognized the result of drills and weapon training. The bandages wrapped around her chest were meant to compress the breasts, so that they wouldn’t hinder the arm movements. She deduced the woman was most likely a soldier or a guard of the city watch.
Why would Sireen impersonate a soldier?
The answer was obvious. To bluff her way inside the house she intended to rob. The Codak family wasn’t home. Only their servants were here. Not many maids would question a soldier asking to come inside for an official purpose. At least, not before it was too late…
Her quarry was already inside the manor.
Beatrix left the trussed-up woman in the alcove for the time being. She didn’t have the time to untie her, and didn’t have smelling salts to try and wake her up anyway. It was better to leave her where she was until everything was over.
The bounty huntress went to the property’s backdoor. It was unlocked, which confirmed her suspicions. Beatrix entered the house.
**************
The main hall of the Great Library was, ironically, a very loud and very busy place. Librarians were answering the visitors’ questions, helping them find the documents they were looking for. If one wanted to study in peace, they had to go inside one of the many study rooms, or in the open patio.
The fake Leyla Saban thought for a moment.
Some study rooms could be rented. The princess would for sure stay in one. The aristocrat’s colorful clothes weren’t innocuous enough if she wanted to sneak inside. It was best to impersonate an employee of the library...
The most obvious choice would be to lure one female librarian in an empty study room to steal her outfit. However, given how busy these people were, her disappearance would be spotted quickly, and she wouldn’t be able to bluff her way through if a visitor asked her about a book.
Thankfully, the Great Library also employed domestics to clean the rooms, and to tend to the plant life of the open patio. She would grab one of them…
The fake Leyla Saban walked to the open patio, pretending to look for some quiet and fresh air. Discreetly, she was observing the domestics.
A couple of maids were about to clean some rooms, but they were working in pair. She ruled them off. Several aides then passed by, but they were all men.
There was only one gardener however. A woman. Approximately the same size as her, with dark brown hair. Hers were black, but from afar it shouldn’t be a problem.
The gardener was wearing a loose long-sleeved tunic and brown trousers. Both garments were designed to be comfortable and sturdy. A belt was tied around her waist. She also had brown leather gloves and brown leather boots. Her straw hat was partially obscuring her face. An other good reason to take her clothes...
Looks like we have a winner.
She smiled when she saw the lone gardener enter a shed in a corner of the patio. From the glimpse she had gotten of the content, it was filled with gardening tools. Including ropes.
The fake Leyla nonchalantly approached the shed, using the cover of the plant life to not be seen.
She reached the door, checked there was no witness in sight, then she nonchalantly entered the shed, and closed the door.
The wooden frame muffled the noises of the brief following scuffle, and of the moans and groans.
The old pots make the best soups…
**************
As soon as she was inside, Beatrix went to look for the storage room.
Rasha would often brag about how easy it is to mug and take the clothes of a servant inside a storage room…
When she found the door unlocked, she listened through the frame. There were some faint noises inside the room. The bounty huntress suspected her quarry was just behind. She silently opened the door.
In the center of the room, she saw a woman with black hair, a dark skin, and golden brown eyes. Her hair were tied into a short ponytail. She was wearing the clothes of a servant: a white tunic, a white cloth sash wrapped around the waist, a white ankle-long skirt, and brown sandals.
The uniform of a city watch guard (black turban, dark brown leather breastplate, purple tunic, purple trousers, brown leather boots, and leather weapon belt) was lying discarded in a corner of the room.
The black-haired woman was finishing tying up a half-naked brunette with a dark skin and hair tied into a long ponytail, clad in a thin white knee-long slip with red shoulder straps and red arabesques. The girl was already unconscious, gagged with a thick rag, bound hand and foot with rags, and hog-tied with ropes.
No need to be a genius to understand what was going on here, and who was the real maid.
A sentry sneaking up behind an infiltrator and catching her by surprise... Beatrix realized there was some irony in the situation, but she was too blunt to care.
“Caught red-handed.” she commented.
Startled, the woman forgot about her trussed up victim, and turned to face the new threat.
“Sireen the Snake, I suppose? We can do it the easy way, or the hard way.” Beatrix added.
The thief brandished a mean-looking knife. “Stand back, bounty huntress! Or you’ll regret it!” She was talking big, but it was pretty clear it was all bluster. A truly good criminal would have used the unconscious servant as a hostage the second she was spotted.
Of course, Beatrix would then have used the couple of seconds the thief would need to bend forward and put her knife on the maid’s throat to grab her jezail and shoot Sireen in the head. So, in a way, Sireen’s subpar talent had saved her life...
Beatrix looked at the woman’s footing. “With that stance?”
She didn’t bother to grab her jezail, and approached her target.
“Why are you getting closer? Haven’t you seen my knife? I’ll stab you!” Sireen was taken aback by the redhead’s apparent nonchalance. She left an opening.
With surprising speed and violence, Beatrix lunged forward and swatted the woman’s hand, as if she was chasing away an annoying insect.
The thief grunted and dropped her weapon.
Beatrix slapped her hard with the back of her hand.
The thief twirled on herself, and fell on her butt.
“I guess it’s easier to bluff maids, uh?”
Beatrix pinned Sireen onto the ground, one gloved hand wrapped around her throat.
“Okay, okay, you got me! I surrender!”
The redhead blinked. Those words…
The ocēlōmeh kept repeating the same words. “I surrender! I have information! I surrender!”
And she was wearing Nawfa’s uniform.
Nawfa, who was Beatrix’s and Mira’s squadmate. Nawfa, whose hair had been cut by Sergeant Aasiya alongside them. Nawfa, who had trained with the jezail alongside them.
Nawfa, whom Beatrix and Mira had found in a ditch, lying in a puddle of her own blood, half-naked and with her throat slit from ear to ear.
And the ocēlōmeh was wearing Nawfa’s uniform.
And Beatrix had her dagger.
And Beatrix knew exactly what to do...
Beatrix drew her dagger.
Sireen’s eyes widened in fear. “I didn’t kill anyone! I barely hurt them! I’ll come quietly! I’ll even tell you where my loot is hidden!”
The redhead took a breath. The war is over. This isn’t Millhaco. The war is over.
Beatrix blinked. “Just in time…” she muttered.
Sireen frowned. “Uh?”
The redhead didn’t show any weakness, and pretended her moment of hesitation was a threat. “Good to hear you’re going to be cooperative...”
The burglar nodded frantically. “Very very cooperative!”
**************
The curator of the Great Library came to greet Aisha himself. The princess was traveling incognito, but some people still had to be in the loop.
He explained to Aisha a study room had been rented for her. Nobody would disturb her. As the man was taking her away, Ezgi waved at her with a sorry smile. She and her other maids were going to wait for her in the patio.
The curator led Aisha inside a study room with a huge window opening on the patio and garden. There were a chair, a table, some food and water, and several books.
“The books have been prepared for you. I will leave you alone, princess. May the knowledge of our predecessors elevate you.”
Then he closed the door.
“Sure…” Aisha muttered to herself.
Still, she sat, and grabbed one book at random.
). Though I'll add that so far, you've managed to keep the cast rather compact - as opposed to my stories where there are at least twenty different characters with and intersecting stories that need to come together by the end. 
