An unfriendly friend

Trace sneered.

Conlan stood before them, a grand smile on his unnerving, punchable face.

"Good Morning, Trace! It is so fine to see you on such a day!" He declared. "And your lovely wife, it is always a pleasure to see such an enchanting lady."

Conlan reached for Anaisa's free hand, but she ripped it away from him to grip Trace's elbow and step slightly behind her husband.

The gesture, motivated by fear and distaste, nonetheless filled Trace with pride. He stood taller and glared at Conlan, who seemed amused by Anaisa's withdrawal. Intrigued by it.

That bothered Trace more than he could say, especially after the vile dream the scheming messenger had had.

"What do you need?" Trace snapped a little more harshly than he intended to. He wanted to stay calm when really he would cheerfully give the man a beating. Conlan smiled easily, directing the couple into a lesser-traveled alleyway between two buildings.

"Let us adjourn outside of the hearing of the general populace," He invited. The press of the crowd lessened considerably as Conlan led the pair to a corner behind a milliner's shop. "Now, then, how are my favorite newlyweds on this fair autumn day?"

"None of your business," Anaisa still stood slightly behind Trace, but her tongue was as sharp as ever. "Where is she?"

"You refer, I assume, to your sister, eh?" Conlan grinned. "A pretty woman, she is, though perhaps not as vibrant as the younger."

"Enough games," Trace glared, not wanting his wife to be addressed by the foul man any more than strictly necessary. "Are you going to tell us where they are or not?"

"All in good time. First, our mutual friend wanted a progress report on your work." Conlan addressed Trace, but his eyes roved Anaisa's figure. She sidled closer to Trace. He regretted the fact that punching Conlan in the face would mean losing the feeling of her hands on his arm. Just now that was the only thing holding him back.

"The work is progressing. I will make my report when I have completed it." Trace answered vaguely, with steel in his tone. How much did Conlan know about the assignment?

"I see. Well, in that case, I can let you know that Jin, cobbler that he is, is currently attending a masterclass by one of the premier shoemakers in the city. A golden career opportunity for him to make the latest fashions for anyone of taste that finds themself in your outlying little town," Conlan seemed amused by the idea. "His little wife, poor dear, spends her days at home while he is away. I do hope nothing happens to her. Perhaps I'll keep a close eye on her to keep her safe…"

"Don't you go near her," Anaisa growled. "I'll skin you alive if you touch her."

"What adorable threats!" Conlan cried with delight. "Oh, Trace, what a bride you have. I'm a bit envious."

Trace's glare intensified. "Where did you say we could find my sister-in-law?"

"Oh, I didn't say, did I? Perhaps some proof of progress is in order before I reveal such an important detail. You know, if the mission goes well, perhaps poor Jin's scholarly pursuits will be cut short. On the other hand, maybe the masterclass will continue for some time…"

The bait hung in the air, and Trace gritted his teeth as he took it.

"One of the stable boys shows no sign of treachery, like the bulk of the chambermaids and at least one of the footmen. I'm still wading through the rest." He ground out.

"Ah, wonderful! I'm sure our mutual friend will be pleased with such a report! Traitors usually wend their way somewhat higher than those lowly positions before striking, but I'm sure you were going to investigate everyone eventually. Time is of the essence, you know!"

"I realize." Trace tilted his head, waiting.

"Ah, yes, of course. Your dear sweet Katia is at the end of this street, staying at the home of the cobbler's wife. She's not treated poorly, but she must stay there! Trying to send her home or take her to your inn would result in our friend's displeasure," Conlan warned with a quirked eyebrow. "If you want to visit her now, that's understandable, but if your lovely wife would like a tour of the royal district, I would be more than happy to oblige her tastes."

Trace moved forward, nearly shoving the man out of the way. He had no patience for lechery, much less so against his own wife. If Conlan weren't his blackmailer's messenger, he would have punched the man flat into the street when he first approached.

He still might.

"I look forward to our next encounter, Anaisa!" Conlan called after them, making Trace's blood boil.

"I hate that man," His wife murmured beside him as they melted back into the crowd. Trace wound his way through the street, narrowly avoiding collisions time and again. How did so many people exist in one place?

Surely this was a suffocating existence for them all.

Soon, the home at the end of the road made itself apparent. It was a grand residence, far nicer than the homes of even some of the nobility. Anaisa bounced nervously beside Trace, removing her hand from his arm as they broke free of the throng.

He was disappointed, but tried not to let that show as he approached the door and knocked.

A stiff butler cracked open the door and looked at them with disdain.

"Your business, Sir? Madam?"

"We're here to see Katia," Anaisa buzzed nervously. "She's my sister, a guest here, we think."

"Hm." The butler looked down his nose at her, and Anaisa's face turned red, whether with irritation or shame, Trace could not tell. "One moment."

The door closed, and the couple waited on the stoop.

"I didn't know shoemakers could be so rich," Trace whispered to distract his wife. She looked up at the tall residence.

"The businessmen to the king and royals are often wealthier than the poorer noblemen," She confided, "and more apt to show it off in audacious ways."

Trace nodded as if he understood her meaning, though honestly, he didn't. What purpose was such a grand house and servants to a man who made shoes for a living? Why do it?

A woman in ornate finery came to the door, jewels gracing her neck that Trace was sure he'd never seen before. She was plump but dour, and looked down her nose at them.

"You say you're here to see Katia?" She mused.

"Yes, please," Anaisa pursed her lips, and Trace stood taller, preparing to insist.

"Katia is my wife's sister," He said. "We're in the city staying at the Violet Lion Inn, and thought we would stop by to see her."

Dropping the name of the expensive inn got a nod of acknowledgement from the woman, and she turned her head.

"Katia!" She called musically. "You have guests!"

Trace sensed, rather than saw, Anaisa bounce lightly on her feet with anticipation. She must have made some effort to stay still, but it was insufficient to hide the excitement she must be feeling.

Finally, a figure appeared in the doorway as the rich woman stepped aside.

"Anaisa?" The dark-headed girl asked in disbelief.

"Katia!"

The sisters embraced fiercely, both shedding tears. Katia stepped outside, and the rich woman harrumphed before closing the door behind her.

Apparently the newcomers were not invited inside. Trace shook his head at the rudeness, but didn't comment lest he interrupt the sisters' reunion.

"Are you all right? Your husband, he treats you well? He doesn't beat you? Are you well here?" Anaisa's questions melted one after another, not allowing Katia time to answer in between, and Trace would have chuckled if not for the genuine worry in his wife's voice.

"I'm all right, Annie," She said. "Jin is… kind, as he can be. Not cruel, anyway, just stoic. And no, I haven't been beaten. I'm fed well and cared for. It is a good life. And what of yours? Who did you–"

Katia paused as she looked at Trace closely.

"This is my–husband–," Anaisa stumbled slightly over the word, and he frowned. "Trace. He was the man who gave us his room at the inn."

"Oh!" Katia blinked several times and held out her hand. "It is nice to meet you. I would introduce my husband, but he is off learning from our host to make the latest fashion in shoes. I'm told it is a great opportunity…" She floundered, but Trace picked up the conversational slack.

"I'm sure it is! Jin is a talented cobbler, and a lucky man to have secured you as a wife." He shook Katia's hand warmly.

"You are… happy?" Anaisa broke in at a whisper, as if afraid of the answer.

"Other than being confined for a time to this household during the day, I am content," Katia smiled gently and grasped her younger sister's hands.

"I'm so glad," Anaisa's face ran with tears. "Oh, Katia, I've been so worried about you."

Guilt flooded Trace as he watched his wife sob and embrace her sister again. He was the cause of this turmoil. It was his fault she'd been so anxious about her sister's life.

He couldn't let that happen again.