She's still Chloe Price in her heart, in her head. Even if she's gone by Chloe Madsen these last five years.
She's only had a few hours sleep. She snuck in late again last night, scaled the wall and slipped through the window like a velvet-slippered mouse. Mostly out of habit, though. By the small hours, David's either out being the Magistrate's left hand or he's passed out drunk. It's not yet dawn, but there's no way back into dreams and getting up now means facing David. So she lies quiet and remembers.
She remembers waking on a couch in this strange house five years ago, scared and confused. She remembers David scowling down at her.
"You're awake. Good. What's your name?"
"Wh...Chloe. I'm Chloe Price. Where's-"
"You need to listen to me. You survived the storm, but no one else did. And no one can know what's happened. Do you understand?"
"N-no. You're scaring me! Where-"
"Do you have any other friends or relatives in Arcadia?"
"What? I...no." Not since the fever took her mother. Not since the Caulfields left. "Please. Where's my dad?"
"Anyone who was on that ship with you is gone. Listen to me, this is important...cry later! Listen to me, now. You're Chloe Madsen. You're my niece, from Skald. I'm going to take care of you. I'll get you some dry clothes as soon as I can, but first we have to deal with that."
That was her hair. Last she remembered she'd had long, strawberry blonde locks. Now her hair was blue, green and purple like the sea. She wasn't given much time to adjust to that discovery before David grabbed a length of hair and went to work with a knife.
She really did cry, then, as he hacked and sawed at her hair and threw handfuls of it into the fire.
She hasn't cried in front of him since.
Not even when he told her about the storm, about the Gods marking her. Not even when he brought her the documents that made her, in the eyes of the law, Chloe Madsen, niece and ward of David Madsen.
Not even when he tried to burn her coat, though that time rage had made it easy to keep the tears at bay. She'd fought back and though he came close to hitting her, in the end he let her have her way.
They've fought often enough over the years, and that still counts as one of her few victories.
She lies awake with her eyes closed, waiting. When she hears his boots climbing the stairs she deepens her breathing, lets all thoughts slip away. She pretends to sleep through his quiet knock, the scrape of her door and his tired sigh.
She waits until she's sure he's gone for the day before she opens her eyes.
Chloe peers through the shutters and scowls. It's a bleary, drizzly sort of day in Arcadia.
She hates the rain.
"Five days. Just need to keep it together for five more days." She snorts, turns away from the window. "So maybe stop talking to yourself, Chloe. And get moving."
She starts getting dressed, pulling clothes over her long, lean frame. Linen trousers, dark, comfortable, loose.
Sleeveless leather jerkin next. Thin and flexible. Practically a second skin.
The boots are a year old and easily the nicest things she owns. A birthday gift from Magistrate Wells, delivered by David. Most of the other things he's given her over the years she's sold or thrown away. The boots are comfortable, sturdy, not too heavy. Perfect, really.
She hates Wells.
Broad belt, sabre in its sheath on her left hip. She's worked on it quite a bit, shaved off a little weight, adjusted the hilt and grip. It suits her about as well as any sword could. Not that she intends to do any sword work today, but with tensions in Arcadia getting worse all the time, it pays to show a little steel when you're on the streets.
She tucks her knife into a sheath at the small of her back. It pays to keep some steel hidden, too.
She puts on her green naval greatcoat. It's old, colour-faded and crudely mended, but it's not something she could ever bear to part with. It's not something she can bear anyone else touching, come to that. She doesn't remember much about the day of the storm, but she remembers her father wrapping this coat around her when the rain and the temperature started to fall on deck.
William Price.
She hugs herself for a moment. She likes to imagine she can still find some trace of his scent, his warmth.
Then she sighs, and goes back to her preparations. She tucks her sap into the outer right pocket, makes sure the picks and blades and other little tools are all where they should be.
Last is the bandanna. She tried shaving her head altogether, but enjoyed neither the look nor David's approval. So now she keeps it short and covered when she's going out. She doesn't agree with David on much, but she doesn't argue anymore when he tells her to avoid drawing attention to herself. She's got more reasons than David knows to want be a shadow these days.
Chloe hits the streets. Ah, the glory of the docks in the morning. It's hard work finding a part of the city that doesn't stink. At least the docks come by it honestly.
Chloe exchanges a few nods as she walks, absentmindedly scanning for threats. Not that there's many people likely to bother her in this part of town, what with her being a Madsen and all. Still, desperate times make for desperate people. Just the other day two starving clansmen had tried to mug her.
She gave them a few silvers after and let them limp away, pride hurt worse than anything else.
Time was Chloe wouldn't be allowed out of the house without an escort. Usually David, occasionally one of his band of thugs. To guard her, David would say. She may have been young and addled with grief and anger, but she could still tell the difference between a bodyguard and a jailer.
She's got a lot more freedom these days, partly because she's too good at giving her watchers the slip. Mostly, though, it's that there's no way out of Arcadia. Not for her. Since the death of King Gregory, Elysium hasn't quite spiralled into civil war. But there's mistrust between the Dukes, unrest amongst the northern clans. Travel into and out of the cities is carefully monitored. Even the meanest farmer needs a yard of paperwork to go from stead to market. Getting legal travel papers is hard, time consuming and expensive.
And in Arcadia, you have to go through Magistrate Wells to get legal papers. That isn't possible for Chloe. And, as she's discovered over nearly a year's worth of bribes and careful inquiries, David's the one helping Wells control most of the document forgers in the city, too. David's relaxed his vigilance on Chloe because even if she could sneak out of Arcadia, without legal papers she'd never get far.
And getting caught with forgeries merits a death sentence.
So David's less cautious and Chloe's used the degree of freedom she's won to her advantage. David's banned her from entering most legitimate trades. He claims he fears the consequences in the event of her public exposure as the first Chosen of the divine in a century. She's pretty sure that's a load. He probably just doesn't want her able to fend for herself.
But that's exactly what she's been doing. Unable to get a job openly, she's become familiar with Arcadia's underworld, instead. She's learned how to pick a pocket or a lock, wield a weapon or con a mark. David knows she's been a petty criminal for years, but hasn't chosen to do much about it. Except to growl at her and demand she show him respect and stay out of trouble. He has no idea quite how proficient a burglar she's become, nor how many friends she's made amongst the crooks who operate outside David and Wells' influence.
And he really has no idea how much money she's managed to put away, or how diligently she's been planning.
In just five more days, she's finally leaving Arcadia.
It's all arranged. She's bought a berth on the trading ship Prosper, stashed a pack with travelling clothes and gear and arranged for provisions. All without tipping her hand to David or tugging too hard on any strand of Magistrate Wells' web.
The last thing, the most important thing, is her travel papers. It took a lot of doing, but she found someone willing to act as go-between and now Chloe's got a meeting at the Two Whales tavern. She's picking up her forged documents today.
She hesitates for a moment, then gives in to impulse and turns toward the beach. It's not a habit she's indulged in months, but...it can't hurt, right?
In a few minutes she's striding over the sand then kneeling at the shore. She dips two fingers into the brine, rubs salt water across her lips and whispers a prayer to Hella, Goddess of the sea.
She waits until her knees protest, then snorts, stands and makes her way back to the waking streets of Arcadia.
Chloe has visited shrines and temples. She's prayed at the shore and cursed the night. She still hasn't heard so much as a whisper in response. The Gods may have marked her, but they remain silent as to why. Why she was spared when so many others died: her father, her mother, Ryan and...no. No time for that sorry shit right now. She unclenches her fists, swipes her eyes, breathes.
Chloe's wearing a smirk when she finally strides into the Two Whales.
Connor nods to her, shifts his bulk around enough to fill her a mug of ale, then slumps down on the bar again.
She takes a gulp and lets out a content sigh. "Anything fit to call breakfast around here?"
Connor grunts and jabs a thumb in the direction of the back room.
"Pleasure talking to you, Con. Later."
Chloe heads to the door with an 'X' carved into the surface and knocks. A few moments later there's the sound of a scraping bolt and the door opens. Chloe's greeted by the sight of Juliet Watson and the smell of bacon. She's not sure which one makes her happier, but there's nothing forced about the smile on Chloe's face now.
Juliet's around Chloe's age, an attractive lesser scion of minor nobility. She's got a fiery temper, an insatiable appetite for gossip and is a little bit gullible. Chloe dislikes gossip and has her own anger issues, so in the year she's known Juliet there's been a few...incidents. But Juliet's basically good-hearted and she's the one who's risking herself to get Chloe her documents.
That makes her a friend.
"Hey, Jules. How's business?"
"Not the best, I'm afraid. And best discussed in private."
Before Chloe can ask what that means, Rachel's voice reaches her.
"Morning, Chloe. You'd better come right in. I remember what happened to the last person who tried to stand between you and food."
Chloe steps into the room. The Two Whales has a long history and its back room is part of the legend. This room has seen high stakes gaming, smugglers and pirates carousing, blood spilled, secrets sold and more deals decided than the entire Prescott ducal line can claim. That is, until King Gregory died and Sean Prescott decided to "clamp down on the wild and lawless elements of Arcadia". Which more or less meant put them in his employ or in shackles. The Two Whales is a perfectly respectable establishment these days, the back room hired out only to perfectly respectable people.
Well. Respectable looking people.
Elysium might have lost a king, but Arcadia's underworld has found a queen in the golden-haired Rachel Amber. Even in the dingy room eating bacon and eggs with a tin fork, she's beautiful and elegant. She's also as honest and charming a swindler as has ever preyed upon the nobles of Arcadia.
Chloe's maybe a little smitten.
But she trusts Rachel, like no one else in this place. Rachel has saved Chloe, more than once and in more ways than one. Juliet's been the face of this latest deal, but it's Rachel who put it all together. It's Rachel who has acted as fence and fixer for Chloe in the two years they've known each other. It's Rachel who's made it possible for Chloe to carve her own little niche in the underworld and ultimately to put her whole escape plan together. It's Rachel she's really going to miss when she leaves Arcadia.
Not that she's ever uttered a word of that aloud.
"Ah, breakfast!" She plonks herself down at the table and helps herself to a plate of food. She nods to the other woman at the table, "Hey, Rach."
Rachel's smile is warmer than the fire and preferable even to bacon. It's brief today, though, a little pained.
Juliet bolts the door and joins them, looking a little tense herself.
Chloe shovels some bacon into her mouth, then looks from one glum face to the other. "I'm guessing you're not about to make me happy."
Juliet fiddles with a cup of water. Rachel sighs, pushes her plate away. "Chloe, there's no easy way to say this. We don't have your papers."
"What? Shit. I need those papers." She turns on Juliet. "You said there wouldn't be a problem. You said your contact was solid!"
Juliet's shaking her head. "Chloe, he is! I mean, he was! But..."
Rachel cuts in. "Daniel's been arrested, Chloe. The ducal guard picked him up last night, along with all the documents he was working on."
Chloe groans, pushes away from the table. She starts pacing. "There's got to be some other way. Didn't you say there was a new player in town?"
Juliet glances anxiously at Rachel, who offers up a little hope. "That's true. I still don't know who they are, exactly, but I've found out how to make contact. And I've seen some of their work. It's perfect. Blackwell quality. But it'll be expensive. 500 marks."
"Hella! That's almost double the fee!" Chloe frowns, thinks about how quickly she can put together enough coin to make up the difference. "Well, it'll be tight. But with what I've already given you, I can probably put the rest together in five days. Can you arrange it, Rach?"
She stops, sees the other two staring down at the table. "What?"
Rachel glances at Juliet, then shrugs. "I can arrange anything, you know that. But it's not going to be that easy."
Juliet bites her lip. "I had to pay Daniel in advance, Chloe. To cover the costs of materials. Your silver's gone, too."
Chloe takes a few quick steps away from the table and punches the wall hard enough to crack the timber. "This is bullshit! Fucking Wells. Fucking Prescotts." Chloe's head is throbbing and she feels suddenly too enclosed in this little room. She feels too enclosed in this city.
Then Rachel's by her side. She doesn't say anything, just takes Chloe's uninjured hand in hers and leads her back to the table. Chloe feels the anger recede, some of the tension leave her. Feels a little pang, too, when Rachel's soft hand leaves hers. Rachel sits back down, calmly sips from her cup. Juliet's not so unruffled.
"Void spare us, your hand! A-are you okay, Chloe?"
Chloe glances down. Her knuckles are a little tender, but there's not much pain and she knows they'll be healed before the morning's through.
"I'll be fine. Sorry I lost it there. I know it's not your fault, Jules. And I appreciate the risks you've taken for me. Both of you. It's just...to get so close..."
Before she can say anything else, Rachel cuts in again. "Don't give up just yet, Chlo. There's an...opportunity that's come up that could give you a chance to raise the money you need. Today."
Juliet looks startled. "What? The amphitheatre? Rachel, that's not a goo-"
Rachel raises her hand and Juliet subsides. "You may not like it, Chloe. But it's the only way I see that you can raise the money you need."
"Talk to me. If there's any chance I can still make it out on the Prosper this week, I'll take it.
So Rachel tells her.
Chloe hates it.