Pashar had always expected to hate the Elusrian winters. Of course, back then she hadn’t known much about Elusria other than their cold winters, she just had trouble imagining a place that got that cold. She hadn’t seen actual snow, outside of generator created material before arriving.

Now, though, she had to admit she’d grown quite fond of it. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the warm cup, the tea’s heat seeping through into her hands. It was technically only late summer, or at the most early fall but already the temperatures were taking a downswing. Which meant she was feeling the cold, even if the locals weren’t.

She didn’t like the cold, nor the snow, in fact that had to be the worst part about winter. No, what she’d come to appreciate was the attitude, the behaviors she’d see in elusrians when winter came knocking.

There was a coziness and camaraderie that simply lacked in Ankiria, at any time during the year. The fireplaces lighting spaces in comfortable colors and filling the room with a relaxing background noise that didn’t require half a dozen musicians.

She took another sip of her cup. The tea wasn’t half bad either. It wasn’t a true ankirian blend, but the elusrians could still brew a mean cup of tea. She looked out on the passersby, that walked the streets on their errands, her lips thinning.

She hadn’t lived in Elusria for more than six years, but she’d never seen the city like this. The tension in the townsfolk as they went on their way, the quiet murmurs and chats instead of lively banter. She idly picked at a flaw in her cup as she gazed on the civilians.

There’d been another protest through the road last night, she could see places where cobblestone had been pulled out of the street. Smashed wooden panes of the shutters that had been destroyed. And the people moving groups. No one was alone, they all walked in groups. The occasional gang of youths upwards of fifteen strong.

She wasn’t worried about them, she could handle herself. And she was sitting at the store front of a respectable café in one of the richer districts. Even now, attackers were unlikely at such an upscale location She inhaled the scent of the tea, letting the leafy aroma fill her nostrils.

She felt the twitch of his presence long before she saw him. The crowd parted like a herd of sheep around a wolf as he prowled through them. He was wearing the Elusrian white and reds, but in the cut of an ankirian noble he almost was.

She noted the lack of jewelry on his face, something the elusrians weren’t very big fans of. So he is capable of compromises. She thought idly. She’d been too shocked the last time she was him to notice the lack.

Saif walked right past her without acknowledgment and entered the store. Very much like him. The wave of his power was less obvious than most of the second stage tethered she would find in Elusria, which should’ve been embarrassing for him.

Soon, Saif al-Bacchus stepped back outside and plopped down in the chair opposite Pashar, across the small table between them. He’d brought with him his own cup of tea, which he set on the table with a mildly confused look.

“Is this better than back home?” He asked in ankirian, looking at the cup worriedly. “It couldn’t be, right? It must’ve just been too long since I’ve been home.”

Pashar snorted a laugh into her mug, but didn’t otherwise answer him.

“Right, sorry.” Saif sat up straighter, correcting his posture into a rigid and formal seat. “Mistress Pashar, how have you been today?”

Pashar rolled her eyes and setting her tea aside. “I’ve been fine, thank you very much. What do I call you now?”

The older man smiled. When she’d first met him, his hair had been coal black all the way through, despite the growing presence of gray in his hair he still looked younger than her when he smiled. She didn’t know if it was simply an effect of his power, or just the sheer presence of him that made him look so young. He just did.

“You could call me Master, just for old times sake.”

“No.” Pashar answers deadpan.

“Then how about Advisor, or maybe simply Saif.”

“Very well, Saif.” She had to stop herself from squirming slightly at simply calling out his name. Too many long ingrained lessons were showing their barbed teeth.

“Now, why did you call this meeting?”

“You know why.”

Saif nodded and sipped his tea. He gave it another side-eye glance before turning his full attention on her. Despite the relative lack of difference in power, his attention still held a weight she’d never managed to replicate or fully understand. It was some kind of application of his tether-senses, but how she didn’t know. Maybe it was simply his greater control.

“You want to know why I’m here.”

Pashar nodded.

“Advise, that is what an advisor does.” Though his tone was jovial, the weight of his attention still lingered. “I play a small part as bodyguard too. Though, she’s not part of the official Royal House, Queen Minul of Elusria is still part of the Family.”

For a second, Pashar caught a flare up in his orange eyes, before they settled into an almost brown. Just wrong enough that they caused a second glance.

“Bodyguard?” Pashar asked. “They really think it’s getting that bad? Is that why they gave her the staff, too?” Her mind wandered back to the hollow staff the Queen’s herald had been wielding.

“That’s from me actually.” His lips tugged into a genuine, if mischievous smile. “You know with the presence of a Mistress such as yourself here, it seemed only proper. Wouldn’t want another incident.”

Pashar’s lips thinned as she stopped her brows from furrowing together. She almost jumped to his tune, but a deep breath helped slow her down enough to fall into her own step. She rubbed her thumb over the clay cup focusing on the sensation as she looked at up her old master.

“So you’re here to play at being a guardsman?”

Saif’s smile bloomed into another full faced grin. “You really have done some growing up haven’t you. You’re not that angry little girl anymore. Damn.” He rubbed a hand over his beard in a clear reminiscing gesture.

This time, Pashar didn’t react to his poke at all, instead she continued to look at him intently.

“Not exactly.” Saif finally broke with a sigh. “If you really must know, then she petitioned us for minor assistance.”

“She asked for someone, and they sent you?” Pashar narrowed her eyes in doubt.

“Well, I might’ve volunteered.” He waved the matter away as if it didn’t. “I don’t get out much anymore, I’m too old.”

Pashar bit her lip and leaned back further in her chair. “I thought the Queen wanted to be more separate from Ankiria, not closer to it.”

“She has less power than half the dukes.” He waved her comment away. “She’s all but a duchess, well I guess here it would be a duke. Isn’t that weird?”

Pashar didn’t answer at first, instead taking another sip of her tea. It was starting to get a little cold. When she looked up, Saif was clearly still waiting for an answer. “It’s a little weird.”

“Right, well if that answers your questions.” He moved to stand up. “I need to get back to the palace. Being an advisor is a full time job.”

“You haven’t answered my questions.” Pashar replied. “You’ve given me the official reasons. Why did you volunteer? Why did they let you?”

“Let me?” He fell back into the chair in a disorganized sprawl. “They don’t let me do anything. I allow them to think they can.”

Pashar cocked an eyebrow. “Does the Daughter agree?”

Saif’s mask fell away and the face of her old Master revealed itself. “You know about her?”

There was none of the weight his attention usually brought, in fact he’d completely disappeared from her senses entirely. If he wasn’t sitting in front of her, she wouldn’t have known he was here at all. The Royal Assassin. Former or not. Her hands shook on the mug.

She swallowed hard, seizing control of her body and stilling all movement. “I know enough to not ask anymore.”

“Yet not enough to not mention it.”

Pashar let out a slow breath, her senses catching on each of the civilians walking through the crowd. Still they passed right through Saif.

“I won’t do it again.”

“Smart.” Saif’s presence suddenly appeared again, seemingly no different from the hundreds of civilians passing them by. “I’m here because the King sees an opportunity. And for the last couple years the oasis of Elusria has been particularly ripe.” He finished the rest of his tea in a big gulp. “Anva hasn’t shut up about this elusrian tethered she met at the front lines. The way she’s talking about him, you’d be forgiven for thinking she was still in her twenties.”

He got up from his chair. “It’s been nice to see you again, apprentice.”

“Likewise.” Pashar nodded and the tethered walked into the crowd disappearing to her senses.