Headed by a Snake

"Dear guests!" The Captain popped his head back out of the kitchen door, "One last thing of note: I'd like to make it known that the only passengers legally wed are Master and Mistress Castiglioni. Thus, you fine, single gentlemen may consider reintroducing yourselves to Miss Coraline and Miss Felicity."

What kind of announcement was that?! Coraline strongly considered hiding underneath the table.

"Eh?!" Ramon tilted his head, pointing a red, black-nailed finger at Lord Arod, "What about that one?"

The half-elf at Ramon's side, Mister Elladan, snatched one of the tiefling's ram-horns, pulling him close, "That's Master Highblade, you fool-- a male... a very wealthy male."

Ramon clumsily smacked his companion's hand away, "Oh. Ah. Yeah. No uh... no respect intended, Master Eyeblade."

The braided woman by Coraline's side snickered at Ramon's verbal blunder. This was the Miss Felicity the Captain had mentioned. She was quiet and proper-- her personality largely overshadowed by Ramon's.

Coraline liked her.

"Master HIGHBLADE! My well-meaning friend means to say: no DIS-respect intended, Sir," Elladan bowed his low enough for his forehead to touch the table... "On my life, we would never dare to purposely offend a High Elven house."

"Right! As'what I said!" Ramon insisted.

Lord Arod gave Coraline an accusatory glance... likely meaning to repeat his inquiry from earlier.

She pretended not to notice. High Elven house aside, she and her previous guild had worked for high profile clients like Arod of Highblade before. With wealth came a certain degree of entitlement.

Coraline didn't want to get too close to the noble... He might try to recruit her or worse-- order her around like a servant. If she refused, it would lead to a whole slew of other problems. She'd remain civil with the Ancient for the sake of peace, but would never dare to ask for more than that.

"Alright!" Ramon clapped his hands together, garnering everyone's attention. "New conversation, then!"

...

The devil-horned Ramon was straightforward and honest. Also, he was as dumb as a rock.

Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, found his presence... refreshing. Dealing with him, he didn't need to watch his words or act his rank. He could essentially... just act without thinking, not worried about how anyone else thought of him.

He'd spent time imprisoned in Turrim Orientem over false charges. After establishing his dominance, he became known as 'Lord Ranger.' Most recently, he had joined the ranks of Letalis Serpentia as a Sergeant. There, he fought ghosts and heretics among the Brazen Guard's very militaristic Munifices and Decani.

The longer he spent in Guild Sol Invictus... the more important it became to speak with actions, rather than words.

Lone got the advice from Tycon, himself... As long as he didn't open his mouth, people wouldn't find out that he... was barely smarter than Ramon.

Flying over to Cersei's Rest was a chance for him to unwind.

It was just him and Tycon... and he was fairly sure his boss' opinion of him couldn't fall any lower than...

--that time in the alley, where he...

...and that time with the butter... or the statue... and then the poison gas...

Lone had made a lot of mistakes over the past several moons. But he was getting better.

Ramon leaned forward, setting a chainmail-covered elbow over the table, "Have I mentioned that we're recruiting?"

"Yes, you have, Mister Ramon," Tycon said, shaking his head. "--on multiple occasions."

"Oh, haha!" Ramon sat back, snickering. He was grinning so wide his eyes closed, "You're right! My bad!"

Lone found himself smiling along with him... allowing his eyes to drift over the other passengers, stopping at one of them, in particular.

If he wanted to act like a proper, stand-up gentleman, then it'd be for--

"I have an idea!" The Popoto, Mister Giorgio, had stood atop his seat, standing as tall as the humans and elves sitting around the table.

Lone looked across the table at the short Elven girl, a small smile on her glossy lips. She was probably the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

They had a connection, he was sure of it. He couldn't point out what exactly that connection was... but it was there.

Her name was Coraline-- a name that was surprisingly just as pretty as she was.

And her sharp eyes were staring at... Mister Giorgio?

Lone didn't feel comfortable calling another man cute... but that's definitely what Giorgio was, a cute old guy.

But why was Coraline staring at... Mister Giorgio's... wine glass?

It was empty. What was so special about that?

"Giorgio, get down from there, this instant," The man's wife pleaded through closed teeth.

"Nonsense, Lucrezia. It's a good idea! Just-- *hic* just hold on a sec."

It was empty. The Popoto-- half Lone's height and less than half his size, had downed his entire glass of wine.

"Ladies and gentlemen-- esteemed companions of the Golden Eagle Alliance," Giorgio began...

"Oh, this guy's good..." Ramon nodded, pursing his lips.

"Ramon, shush~!" Felicity scolded in a harsh whisper.

Giorgio waved an open palm, "Think back... to the most memorable moment in your lives! To when you first laid eyes upon the most... gorgeous woman (or man) you've ever laid eyes on!

"And let's say-- for conversation's sake... that you could spend the rest of your liiiiives with that fateful person! Who would it be?!"

Lone's mouth and throat had become drier than the dirt on his boots, as he struggled to gulp.

Coraline had caught him staring... and she averted her gaze, wearing a hard frown.

...Seven hells.

Well, he'd probably ruined his chances with her. And he didn't even have to say a single word.

No surprise. Lone's success with women could be summed up by the going-away gift he got from Sorina. She got him an iron ring to celebrate him being 'Forever Alone.'

It was supposed to be funny.

It was... a little.... but in a sad and pathetic way.

Lone followed the gaze of everyone at the table to find that Mister Giorgio was pointing his palm towards the male elf next to Coraline.

Yeah, that wasn't going to work.

...

Coraline hated being stared at.

Was there something in her hair? On her face, maybe? She dabbed her napkin at the corner of her lips like she was taught.

Maybe she had some lettuce stuck in her teeth? She loved salads, so that sort of thing happened often...

If Mister Lone had noticed something off about her, then it was polite to not say anything at all. Still, it meant she'd spend the rest of her time in the dining hall worrying about it.

The table's atmosphere had grown suspiciously quiet... and she turned to notice that Mister Giorgio was directing everyone's attention to... Lord Arod, of all people.

Yeah... That wasn't going to work.

Even the Ancient, far removed from the whims and woes of commoners such as herself, had found himself in an embarrassing predicament. He was glaring at her... likely having understood that she was his only ally.

Coraline considered leaving the high elf to flounder in awkwardness. It's what a typical noble would do if their roles were reversed.

Unfortunately, her conscience got the better of her.

"Ahem... I'll go first," She muttered...

Suddenly, she became very aware that all the attention had refocused on her.

Her throat had become as dry as an arid wasteland and she struggled to swallow her saliva, "I uh..."

"Look at her, Giorgio," Lucrezia scolded, "You've mortified the poor girl!"

Her voice took on a motherly sweetness as she addressed Coraline, "Now, now, dear... you needn't feel obligated to satisfy my fool husband's curiosity."

"Indeed. The contents of a young lady's heart are best kept secret... shared privately with a suitor of her choosing."

Coraline raised her eyebrows as she turned towards an unlikely ally. Those words came from the green-haired youth, waxing somewhat poetically.

He didn't sound like a bookish mage or scholar. He sounded like a con-man. The youth was dangerous and she wanted nothing to do with him-- much less be defended.

"N-no, it's fine," Coraline stammered. "I just need a moment to think."

She needed a very long moment, if possible.

"Pff... Ckkkch.... Ahaha... HAHAHA!" Ramon tried and failed to hide his loud, grating guffaws, "Yo, Tychon, what in the SeVennN HeLLs was THAT?! NO ONE talks like that!!"

"Ramon, don't~!" Felicity chided her ram-horned guild leader. "I thought it was sweet!"

So the young master's name was Tychon... If Coraline's studies in the old Tyrion language served her, the root word 'tycho' meant 'luck.'

...It also could be from the root word 'tynchano' which meant to fall on deaf ears-- which was far closer to how she had initially judged him.

"You must forgive me, Mister Ramon," Tychon inclined his head. "I don't have the raw strength and bravado indicative of one such as yourself. In lieu of that, I must exemplify a modicum of intelligence in order to win respect from my peers."

"Aha, no need to be formal, guy," Ramon snickered. "I was jus' talkin' for laughs!"

The quiet Felicity had covered her mouth... but unable to contain herself, she held her stomach in a fit of giggling, "By the godddds! Sir Tychonnnnn~!"

"What? What's going on?" Ramon lifted his chin, pouting like a child.

"Congratulations, Ramon," Elladan rubbed his chin in thought... "That was the most... eloquent way I've ever heard someone call you an idiot."

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