Issana spent the morning lounging at the inn, munching on the various foods that the innkeeper had available. A bard played the lute by the inn's central hearth, though he seemed to be practicing to himself rather than performing since there were so few people around. He glanced over at her and winked.

Issana gave him a look that said not a chance and returned to the sliced cheese in front of her. Rune had gone his own way that morning, looking for a merchant bound for Solitude. Issana knew she probably should have been getting ready Mallus' dimwitted scheme, but she really just didn't feel like it at that moment.

She was startled when the bard dropped himself into the seat across from her. He smiled at her, but it was a smile so blatantly charming that she knew he'd practiced.

"Can I help you?" she said.

"Actually, I was hoping I could help you. My name is Mikael. You're new around here, aren't you?"

Issana raised an eyebrow. "I'm really not interested."

Mikael grinned. "Come on, let me show you around the city. You won't regret it."

"Oh, I'm almost certain I would," said Issana. "Go practice your lute. Gods know you could use it."

"Fair nightingale has talons," said Mikael with a roguish wink. "But it'll take more than a few scratches to chase off Mikael."

"Maybe I should aim for your eyes."

Mikael frowned. "You really don't want me around?"

Issana stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"Uh-"

"Shoo!"

Mikael scrambled out of the chair, looking confounded. He gave her once last confused glance before returning to his original position by the fire. Issana grabbed the rest of her cheese and left the inn.

The marketplace air was warm and refreshing, nothing like the dirty, old fish smell that permeated Riften. Colored stalls stood in a wide circle around a central well, and there were dozens of people milling about. Issana wandered over to the nearest stall, covered with fresh fruits and vegetables. The apples were bright and juicy-looking and Issana gave a quick look around. The stall's owner, a tall, brown-haired woman, was busy talking to someone and none of the passers-by seemed to notice her. She reached for an apple.

"It may not earn much," the shopkeeper was saying, "but I do what I have to to make ends meet. It's the only way I can keep my daughter fed."

Issana stopped. Damn it. It was only one apple, something that would never be noticed or missed, but something about it just didn't feel right. Maybe it was the fact that this woman was determined to provide for her daughter no matter what, something she'd never had, or maybe it was just one of those odd little moments of guilt that popped up about once a year.

"How much for an apple?" she asked. The woman turned, startled. "A Septim, or three septims'll get you five."

"Just the one, thanks." Issana handed over a coin. "How's business?"

"Oh, you know," said the woman. "No worse than usual. Just wish I could get Mikael off my back for five minutes. Do you know how many times I've told that man that I'm not interested?"

Issana smiled. "I can imagine."

"You too?"

"About five minutes ago."

The shopkeeper grunted with disgust. "He's begging for a dagger up against his throat, the way he goes on about me. I heard him yesterday, boasting how he'll 'conquer me as a true Nord conquers any harsh beast.'"

Issana raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "I might have a word with him, then."

"Hah, I'd like to see that. I'd come with you, but I have to mind my stall."

Issana tossed her the apple. "Hold onto that. I'll be back."

She reentered the Bannered Mare and saw Mikael practicing his lute by the fire where she'd left him. He looked up and smiled that repulsive smile of his. "Changed your mind?"

"No, you might have to-oh, how did you put it?-conquer me like a true Nord."

Mikael's smirk vanished. "Been talking to Carlotta, have you? She's a stubborn one, but I'll win her over in the end. Just you wait."

"How about leaving her alone?" said Issana.

Mikael laughed. "What are you going to do about it? Although, if you're planning on sticking around in Whiterun for awhile, I could always use a distraction."

Issana's fist connected with his jaw and sent him sprawling. Issana planted a foot on his chest and stared down at him. "You take that tone with me again and I'll hit you somewhere else. Understand? And stay away from Carlotta."

Mikael's confidence had evaporated into fear. "All right! I'm sorry! Please, don't hit me again!"

Issana ground her boot against his collarbone, drawing a squeal of pain from him. "Good." She stepped off and made for the door.

Behind her, she heard the innkeeper starting to clap.

In the marketplace again, she gave Carlotta a smile and caught her apple as it was tossed back. "I don't think he'll be bothering you anymore."

Carlotta looked relieved. "What did you say?"

Issana massaged her fist. "There weren't a lot of words."

"Oh! Well, I-thank you! I've been wanting to do that for awhile, but I wasn't sure what he'd do. Thank you for dealing with him."

"I don't mind knocking people like him down a notch."

"Or onto the floor, it seems," said Carlotta. "Thanks again."

Issana nodded in acknowledgement and turned away. As much as she wished she could put off the Honningbrew job indefinitely, Maven certainly wouldn't approve of being kept waiting. And she'd wasted enough time already. There was a cave of skeevers to deal with.

Damn you, Maven. Issana kicked a pebble unhappily and headed towards the city gates.