A temporary ceasefire was forged. All in all, their plan was near fruition. It was a fine day, a week after the ceasefire started. Soldiers milled around the city, drinking Loyran alcohol and sometimes picking up the same women that served them beer.

Francis wandered the streets of Khandria. Even with the promise of a peace deal, there was still a heavy atmosphere in the air. Even so, the people carried on. Much of the fighting was done far away from the capital, which was far enough for the residents here to not care.

It was a fine morning for a stroll. Drunken men and women poured out of taverns. Despite the atmosphere, Loyran and Varexian mingled together. Somehow, they managed to bypass the language barrier. Each spoke bits and pieces of the other’s language, similar to how a Frenchman would pick up parts of English just from proximity alone.

A passing man whistled at Francis, before promptly falling upon himself and smashing headfirst into the ground. Francis winced at thud. Blood pooled out from the man’s face, but he got back up again. His face was monstrous, looking like a serial killer caught in the act.

With a disappointed shake of the head, Francis continued down the street. It was a rare chance, after all. Katalina followed behind him, leaving a large enough distance to dismiss any connections. Hye-Sung on the other hand, was far more busy.

Loyran architecture was interesting, to say the least. An exquisite use of gentle curves and spherical shapes created a unique style. It wasn’t a stretch to say that the particular theme of the city was domes, given that most significant buildings had at least one.

Francis slowed his pace down, taking in the warm air. The sandals fit snugly on his feet. Though, nothing in particular caught his attention. Still, that didn’t mean that he failed to attract attention.

“Girl... Fun?” a man asked in broken Varexian.

“No. And don’t bother me. I’m here on business.”

“Girl... Boring.”

With a roll of his eyes, Francis walked past him. Where? Where was she? The elusive Iris. She mentioned that she had something to do in this city, even before the war started. Once the war started, she disappeared with only a mention of Khandria. She wasn’t responding through the ‘Messenger of the Mystics’ either.

He stopped at a coffee shop. Tables equipped with card games were spread out throughout the coffeehouse. A well dressed waiter greeted him, the dark vest against her tanned skin and white hair. In her hand was a tray reflective enough to show his own face and a rolled up newspaper.

“Morning. Coffee Miss?” she spoke in the most basic Varexia, but it was understandable. Leagues better than the street thugs that tried to pick him up not long ago.

“Yes. Table for two.” Francis tilted his head in Katalina’s direction and motioned for her to follow along.

Taking a seat at a table near the relative centre of the cafe, the same waitress brought a menu. Printed on fine paper with a slight yellowish tint, it spoke of a certain level of standard that was rare. The coffeehouse’s name was in the Loyran script, of which he had no recognition of.

“My Lo-” A swift kick to Katalina’s ankles shut her up.

“We’re here on business. Don’t complicate things. Two coffees, please.”

“Yes, sexy ladies.” The waitress gave a playful wink before walking away.

“Apparently, the people in this city are much more open expressions of love,” said Francis as Katalina reached for her blade.

“Even so, to refer to you in such a crude manner.”

“Crude in what way?”

“Do I really need to elaborate?”

“Hold your blade and sit, Katalina. Can’t we just enjoy a cup of coffee?”

With a deep sigh, she sat back down. Katalina drummed her fingers against the table. Soon enough, the waitress returned. There were a total of 4 cups atop the silverish steel tray. 2 cups of steaming hot coffee, far darker than what he liked. And the others were hot cups of water. Katalina gazed upon the porcelain cups with contempt.

“What’s wrong?” Francis whispered.

“It’s- it’s nothing.”

“You can tell me here if you prefer.”

“Really, it's nothing. Please don’t worry about me, My Lord. It is my duty to serve you.”

“Are you sure? If you’re uncomfortable with anything...”

“It's not your fault, so please don’t worry about me. It's just something.”

“Got it. Let's finish our drinks and head back. I’m feeling tired already.”

In truth, he still wanted to explore the city. But it didn’t matter in the face of Katalina. Despite their roles, he didn’t want her to get hurt.

He sipped the bitter, bitter coffee. It burned slightly as it went down. Katalina didn’t seem to have any issue with it, however. She downed it as if this was her 300th time going through it.

“Let’s go then,” Francis said.

“Ah, ladies finished?” asked the waitress as she returned.

“Yes. How much is it?”

Francis dropped a few silver coins in the waitress’ hand. No doubt, there was an insane markup. Still, Varexian currency was worthless here, and Francis didn’t have Loyran money. Thus, a near unanimous conclusion was reached by the citizens and visitors in Khandria. Friaren coin.

The rest of the day was uneventful at best, and boring at worst. Katalina stayed in her room, lying in bed. Francis watched over her as she groaned. He sighed, and tapped the bottle of painkillers on the side of the bed.

“Hye-Sung made these. She takes these too, so it's probably safe.”

“My Lord, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Look, I know that you probably won’t be comfortable with me here.”

At his insistence, Katalina dressed in comfortable clothes. Pajamas, basically. Nothing combat ready. Not this time. Francis waved goodbye as he shut the door behind him.

It was a rare moment of quiet. Not that the halls of the palace were ever silent. Thousands of maids, footmen, gardeners, guards both private and imperial, cooks and chefs, candle boys, and a whole list of other occupations that pained his head to recall. Even so, there was always someone with him. Haein, Hye-Sung, Katalina. The occasional Iris. Indeed, she did mention something about the gods interfering in ways that he did not expect. Perhaps that entourage of beautiful women that surrounded him was the result of that. In that case, just what were his own achievements? He shook his head of those thoughts and focused on the present. The crisis could wait.