Drip-Fed Being Noticed 10 – Nobility in Talking

With the arrival of the snow won, the ball was officially opened.

Apexus did not lose sight of the black-haired woman. He stood head and shoulders above even the second tallest man in the room. If he had wanted to, he could have lingered on her all evening.

Desire for a new woman, as rare as the sensation was, did not grasp his disciplined mind in a vice’s grip. For tonight, he had another purpose. He focused on fulfilling it.

Initially, the Monk was surrounded by a small horde of interested youths. He was swamped by attention for the sa reason that the viceroy approached. As the older dark elf walked, the people made way for him. “You are the party leader?” he asked.

He had that tone of voice that was used to getting answers swiftly and respectfully. Other tis Apexus had encountered it, the person speaking had lacked the capability to give respect in return. Not so the viceroy. Azureas’ blue eyes reflected his understanding of the situation.

“I am,” Apexus confird.

“I’ve had the Guild inform about your public record,” the viceroy stated. “Though not even I gain access to their complete records without a proper reason. You have recently gone through so explosive growth. In that ti, there are no records on your whereabouts.”

Apexus’ attention was drawn to a silver tablet, practically held up to his face. A multitude of beverages on it offered a fine selection of wasted fruit. Why so many people enjoyed the juice without the flesh was beyond him. His nose guided him to one of the few that did not have alcohol mixed in.

“You do not enjoy the drink?” Azureas observed.

“I have few vices. Alcohol is not among them.” The humanoid chira responded. “And the details of my explosive growth will remain with and mine.”

“Why?” the viceroy investigated. Once again, he spoke with certainty, but he was not outright demanding.

“I fear that those attempting to emulate would perish.”

Those words made the nobles hanging around the duo mutter. Azureas himself stared for a prolonged period before executing an artistic wave of his hand, equal parts dismissive and reassuring. “It is the duty of the more powerful to know what knowledge to withhold from those of low impulse control.”

While Apexus chatted to the viceroy, Korith was having a whole different conversation.

“You are going to give money to give it to Hoard?” she repeated what she had just heard.

“Yes,” the nobleman confird in an amused tone. “I have heard legends of the god of Gold and Gambles and-“

“Hoard is not a gamble god!” Korith interrupted imdiately. “Definitely no scam god either!”

“The lady doth protest a lot,” the girlfriend of the nobleman remarked. It was a comnt born less of genuine doubt and more of jealousy. Every man in the general vicinity was starting at the shortstack.

Korith was not oblivious to that fact, but these weren’t the lecherous kind of stares that predated unwise action. Plus, she no longer was soone that had to keep her hamr around to break kneecaps. Her knuckles would do just fine.

“All the sa,” the nobleman said. “I would like to see the inequivalent exchange of Hoard in action. If you would allow this, I would be richer for the experience.”

“And !” another nobleman threw in, initiating a torrent of, mostly young, nobles shouting the sa.

‘Hoarding other people’s money? Is this heaven?’ Korith thought.

anwhile, Reysha was on her loneso.

Rogues were never popular with nobles. Associating with them publicly caused unsavoury rumours. Why would one acquaint with a person whose speciality was stealing and killing unseen? Though the younger elves no longer rembered, they were only one long-lived generation removed from the horrid events of the Carving of Terrostir. A fear of infiltrators was etched deep into the consciousness of the nobility in this fragnt of the Omniverse.

Reysha was thus the only party mber that wasn’t approached by anyone. She tried sipping on the wine, but instantly regretted it. All she could taste was sulphur.

“The beverages are not to your liking?”

The question surprised Reysha and she looked up to see a black-haired woman approach her. One of the Yuki-Onna, with a scar across her left eye. It was the sa one that Apexus had gotten interested in, though Reysha did not know this yet.

“I got a dical condition,” the redhead responded. “Want my help torpedoing your reputation?”

“In a sense,” the snow lady laughed. Her voice was even like the surface of a frozen lake. “Though there’s little for to lose. No, let’s not talk about now,” she raised a hand discouragingly, just as Reysha began to ask a question. “I am Lady Yuzuki of the Cracked Lake.”

“Reysha.”

“I am aware,” the noblewoman responded with a light, teasing smile. “I must know: is it true what they say? That Rogues are deviants?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Reysha chirped back, her voice lowering into a teasing whisper. “Stealing, lying, streaking – we’re a hivemind that loves all of that.”

“I sense the sarcasm,” Yuzuki retorted.

“Congrats, ya got working ears.”

“Then let ask about you specifically… rumour has it that you have been asking around for shops with certain… specialities.” As she reached the final word, Yuzuki conspiratorially looked around. Everyone was focused on other parts of the hall. With her back to it all, the Yuki-Onna felt safe enough to part the front of her yukata’s skirt. She revealed a thigh strap and the cord that erged from it, disappearing beneath the cover of her womanhood. “Gnomish make, quite expensive.”

“No shot!” Reysha imdiately lowered her voice. “Is it on?”

“I’m afraid I’m not quite that daring. Plus, what would be the fun in having control over it?”

The two exchanged a smirk.

Deviant knew deviant.

Aclysia faked a smile as she listened to another noble praise her beauty. The fact that she was an angel had leaked through the guild records and the nobles were trying to get into her good graces above all others. She was surrounded by people, forming a wall between her and her darling.

She needed to get out of there as soon as possible.