Chapter 24:

"Nothing's known about the man," Tamil declared with a grin, her anticipation heard well before she appeared. Portia stepped out of her room and found the dark elf standing before her, green tattoos around her jaw pulled taut by her lengthy smile.

"Nothing's known about who?" Portia asked, having just woken up. It was unlike Tamil to be this chipper in the morning, and Portia hadn't even seen the elf for almost two days. Of course, she'd been too preoccupied to notice with Arelius meeting Gilthan, and Mehrunes hounding her at night, but she was assuming that Tamil had been busy.

"Your friend Cassius doesn't exist," Tamil told her, and Portia immediately sparked to life, her features stilling into a dark mask as the words hit her. "I got the letter yesterday, and after some quick document hunting, it's official that the Matrino family is long dead and buried. I thought that I'd come tell you before going to the office." The elf wore a conspiring smile that put Portia on guard despite the woman's attempt to be helpful.

"So who is he?" she asked.

"I don't know," Tamil replied with a casual shrug. "But I intend to find out, or rather, I'm sure that you'll be assigned to the task." Portia couldn't argue and closed her bedroom door, but not before Tamil's eyes caught sight of the bloody bandages on her bed. "We'll pay them back, Portia," she vowed with a wild glint in her eye. "For everything." Portia's eyes inadvertently wandered toward the elf's gut as the slimmer woman spun and marched off to find Arelius. "No one poisons me and gets away with it—ever." As if she had experience with such wounds, or maybe she did. Portia wouldn't discount the possibility, for even now, Tamil's blue sleeves were rolled up, and an ugly scar could be seen across the woman's elbow. Gods knew where she'd gotten it.

"You're very happy this morning," Portia commented. "You're usually in bed when I'm leaving for work."

"That's because I'm a night owl," Tamil answered. "But today..." She glanced over her shoulder with a feral, half-smile that reminded Portia of a cat about to pounce. "Today, I have substantial leads to follow." Portia wondered if it was Lenicon, but she dared not mention the name while servants might be afoot. Lucretia hired her staff carefully, and from what Portia had seen, they were loyal, but there was always a loose end, and so business was kept hushed. That Tamil had come directly to her room in order to mention Cassius showed the extent of the dark elf's high spirits, and Portia had indeed noticed how malcontent Tamil became when work hit a snag. This would be a boon for the woman.

"Sir?" Tamil called as she knocked on Arelius's study door, but there was no answer.

"Over here," Portia called, standing by the window and looking down into the courtyard. Arelius stood speaking to a messenger, a tree's leaves obscuring a clear view of the two. "Let's hope that the news is good."

"Or ill so long as it's useful," Tamil added, heading for the stairs. "There's only one way to find out." Portia followed, feet padding lightly across the grass outside, and browning blossoms brushing against her soles. The garden's flowering trees had released their colors and left the blooms of summer to rot while heavy greens and specks of yellow took their place. Most trees in the capitol did not change color with the seasons, but there would be a few reds and oranges as fall deepened, and many ground flowers would continue to brighten nature until the first frost. Portia noted that it would soon be time to buy a new cloak for chillier days and even cooler nights.

"Good morning," Arelius greeted, voice devoid of warmth as he scanned the contents of a scroll. With a steady face, he rerolled the parchment, his lack of comment making Portia wonder if something hadn't happened to the children. The messenger looked like he'd ridden some distance with her road-weary clothing. "What brings you out in the morning daylight, Tamil?" Arelius asked.

"Very funny," the dark elf sarcastically replied. "I'd like a moment of your time, if you've some to spare. There have been new developments." Portia looked to her right as two doves landed on a tree branch, their soft voices crooning to one another as Arelius called for a servant and dismissed the messenger. She'd never been fond of doves, for they were dense and sluggish, but there was something relaxing and even charming about how they sat together and bobbed their heads as one. Loyalty was their creed, and one that Portia admired, so perhaps she had more in common with the birds than she'd ever considered; however, did such a bond between individuals require the gentle, calm nature of a dove?

"Bri," Arelius was saying. "Deliver this to Lucretia, and tell her that I already sent the messenger to the kitchen for some refreshments. She might find him there if she wishes to send a package to replace what the children have destroyed."

"Destroyed?" Portia questioned, watching as the doves took to flight, following one another into the blue sky above.

"Their wardrobes have shrunk since leaving," Arelius told her. "Not that I'm surprised, but back to the business at hand. What's happened?"

"Cassius doesn't exist, and wormy Lenicon might be willing to cooperate with us if we can completely clear his name and offer monetary incentives. Apparently he's less than impressed with the Mythic Dawn's activities as of late, and he wants out before the whole organization goes to Oblivion in a satchel. He'd like to meet in a week or so, once he's ensured that no one's watching him."

"Then it sounds like we have plans to make," Arelius approved. "The quickest way to find information on Cassius is probably to search his quarters, which is illegal, so you never heard anything from me. If one of you gets caught, it's on your own head until the Blade master can clear your name with his authority."

"So we need a distraction," Portia assumed. "And I can guess who's going to be assigned to that." Arelius smiled and glanced at Tamil, who looked away with a shadowed grin.

"Yes, but I'd rather you not do this alone now that we have more than intuition to guide our suspicions about Cassius and Horace. Perhaps your Altmer friend will be of service sooner than expected. Find him and request his help instead of going anywhere alone with our suspects."

"I can handle myself," Portia intoned, gaze locking with his, but the man didn't give an inch. "You know how I feel about co-op missions, Arelius." His hard eyes showed no sympathy as he dismissed her concerns.

"You'll do what's required, and not needlessly risk your own safety." For a moment, they simply stared at each other, Portia inwardly fuming at his intrusion on her comfort zone, but there was nothing that she could do short of deserting the investigation, which would get her nowhere. If something happened to Gilthan because of her...he would be a decent partner for this, and Arelius is right: you can't throw your life away when so much depends on it.

"Let's get this over with," she stated, cold eyes brushing from Arelius to Tamil, who was utterly unfazed by the tense atmosphere. Plans began to form, the three moving to Arelius's office to discuss details, and Portia finding herself more and more on edge. She would be working with other people, and Tamil's safety would depend on her timing and behavior. More than that though was the fact that they were searching for information on Cassius, and while Portia knew that he was dangerous, sensing something and finding concrete evidence were different matters entirely. After seeing him with Lenicon at the theater, and knowing Lenicon's past...damn, but Cassius wasn't even the man's real name, and he'd been touching her, sitting with her in a library to discuss daedric, and inviting her to lunch. If he wasn't just a dangerous man, but a legitimate Dawn member, why was he so interested in her? Did he know about the sphere?

Sometimes I forget that he's nothing more than a suspect, and a very incriminated one at that. The question was, since she'd known that all along, why did she find herself being attracted to him? Why was he familiar before she'd even known him, and why did she find herself overlooking that he might want to kill her? When they'd been in the alley, he'd looked like a man about to either ravage or murder her, and yet she hadn't reacted out of fear—as if she'd somehow sensed that he wouldn't damage her. There was simply something about the man that loomed over her the closer that she got to him.

"Let's do this," Tamil darkly proclaimed, Portia staring at the dark tattoos branching across the woman's cheeks and jaw.

"Okay," she automatically agreed. This was not going to be the most comfortable job.

*****************

"Sir," the servant bowed. "There is a lady asking after you and Sir Cassius. She's waiting in the sitting room. Shall I tell her that you'll see her?" Horace glanced at Mehrunes, who was watching the servant with interest.

"A lady?" the prince questioned, hoping that it wasn't an annoying visitor wishing to invite them to another event where he'd be asked a million questions about himself. He was sick of entertaining their questions, and he didn't keep his calm as easily as Horace did.

"Tell her that we'll be down," Horace instructed, also intrigued. "Perhaps Caranya has learned more."

"One can hope, but she might also be here to ask after your company," Mehrunes taunted, leading the way downstairs and toward the foyer. Already, he could hear the woman's soft pacing, but only boots would make such noise—not a lady's slippers, which made him wonder who'd come to see him. Then he stepped through the doorway and found himself looking at her with her braided hair that exposed a slender neck and distracted eyes. She was here, in a private setting where he could detain her, and the thought made him eagerly step forward to take her hand for yet another kiss.

"Lady Augustine, what brings you to my humble abode?" Horace asked before Mehrunes could act, the mortal passing him to do the honors of a kiss. The prince hid his frown and watched as Portia retracted her hand a bit too quickly from Horace's grasp.

"Horace," she greeted. "Cassius." Her eyes flickered to his, and he would have ensnared her had she not so quickly refocused elsewhere. "I came to see if you are both free tonight. I feel that I must repay you for allowing me to share your balcony at the theater, and so, would you be interested in dinner?"

"We'd be delighted," Mehrunes immediately answered, intrigued by the woman's desire to take them out for the evening. Then again, his identity was secret, and he'd been lavishing attention on her, so perhaps she did feel that this would be proper. Or something's going on. Too bad that Horace would be coming along, or he might be left alone with Portia yet again.

"What time would you like us to be ready?" Horace questioned.

"Six o'clock, and the location's a surprise, so don't ask. Just don't come in tattered clothing," Portia smiled, attention lingering on Cassius's fairly reserved behavior. He was still puzzling over her decision to come here, but if luck had given him this gift for the evening, he wouldn't waste it. Besides, two Dawn members would be home tonight, so any designs that enemies might harbor would be met by death, and the assurance freed him to indulge in time with his favorite mortal.

"We'll be ready," Horace promised Portia. "And thank you for your generous offer."

"It's the least that I can do," Portia replied with a polite dip of her head.

"I don't know if I should trust your surprises," Mehrunes dryly commented, arms crossed over his chest, and his remark earning a cool glance from Horace.

"You dried off, so don't complain," Portia retorted, a teasing undertone to her voice, but face far too serious to match the joke. She was probing his expression, and he responded with a smirk as he stepped forward to take her hand.

"Next time, I might show you a few surprises of my own," he whispered, lips pressing against her deliciously warm skin.

"I don't doubt it," came a soft reply. "Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I must prepare lessons for my students."

"Until this evening then," Horace pleasantly answered, preparing to leave the room as Mehrunes remained close to Portia.

"I look forward to your company, Sherkyn," he almost purred, watching her look up at his face. "A shame that the company is larger this time." He could not read her reaction, but she dipped her head and turned to leave.

"There will be other nights, Cassius." Yes, there would be. Mehrunes walked by Horace without deigning to indulge the man's curiosity over the foreign language that had been heard, and was thrilled by the secret messages that so freely passed between himself and the Sherkyn. He moved upstairs, and Mehrunes grabbed a few coins in preparation for an outing to the Arena. Perhaps a little bloodshed and good, old-fashioned combat would speed the passing of hours, and so he left the manor to inspect the quality of duels in this city. As he pictured Portia walking away with a sword swaying at her side and a covert agenda in her hands, he found himself willing sand faster through the glass.

***************

Portia,

I'd be delighted to help, and I fully realize how dangerous this could be. Thank you for the warning and concern, but I would never say no to a request like this. If I can handle exposure to exploding chemicals in the alchemy shop, I can risk a few cult fanatics. See you tonight, lovely!

Gilthan

Portia reread the note again before tucking it inside of her outfit, Gilthan's typical confidence reassuring her, and yet not completely dismissing the concerns at the back of her mind. She was sure that the elf could handle himself, but there was no reason for him to be so heavily involved in her problems. It's his decision, she reminded herself. You told him everything that could happen, and he's accepted it like Tamil and Arelius have. She wouldn't let doubt spoil this mission when hers was but a small part of tonight's charade, and with Gilthan at her side, Cassius might not exert such a domineering presence over her.

"Here I go," Portia breathed. Her black gown barely reached the ground as a hand checked the laces on her back to ensure that the crisscrossing, gold strings were securely in place. Black and gold was not a popular combination for an evening out, for black was the color of night, necromancy, and darker forces, but it was her choice for this evening. Originally Portia had completely overlooked the idea until she'd come across the dress in the back of Divine Elegance, whereupon she was advised by others not to buy it, but she'd gone ahead with the purchase anyway, realizing that the dark and uncanny choice would, in fact, attract the approval of her guests this evening.

So here she stood, fitted gown crossing her chest with a square neckline that exposed a hint of cleavage and left ample room for the pendant that she wore—also gold, but decorated with purple quartz. It matched the dress since the black fabric was interwoven with purple and blue, the subtle colors shimmering whenever she passed through light, and making the dress quite fetching as Lucretia had commented. The only thing that Portia worried about were the slits in the bottom of the dress, for while completely concealed beneath overlapping sections of billowing cloth, she was still paranoid that somehow her legs would be exposed, and she didn't need someone like Horace eyeing her legs.

Adjusting the gold belt about her waist, she approached the said man's house, her eyes roaming toward the alley across the street where Tamil would be waiting. For a second, she saw the elf's shadowed form appear and grant her a small nod before her fist was knocking against hard wood. A servant would greet her, and then she'd take the men to dinner, where they would be entertained into the night. Keeping Cassius's attention would not be difficult, but Horace...Akatosh protect her, but she prayed that flashing skin and smiles wasn't the only way to keep the man in his seat.

"Good evening, Lady Augustine," Horace greeted as a servant opened the door for her. She stepped inside, glad that her hair was pulled back into a braid so that nothing obstructed her view of the men before her. Horace looked charming and smart as always, and Cassius was sporting a rich cream and maroon outfit that suited his darker complexion. Portia curtsied while remembering her earlier trip and how Cassius had suggested that he preferred their time to be more private—not with others—and she again considered what his role in the Dawn might be. Was he merely keeping an eye on her? She found it hard to believe that anyone could fake the current, appraising look that he was giving her, his vision fixed on and digesting her appearance with interest. If he was an enemy, he never even attempted to be professional.

"Are you ready to go, gentlemen?" she asked.

"Lead the way," Cassius smiled, offering her his arm before Horace beat him to it, for Portia had already noticed Horace preparing to approach her. "Black is becoming color on you," he continued. "Red would have been a nice compliment." A vision of Oblivion with its shades of red on black crossed Portia's mind, but she brushed it aside as she led the men outside and down the street.

"Thank you, Cassius. I hope that this evening is enjoyable for both of you, and I'm honored to have your company."

"It's our pleasure," Horace assured. "And it's no burden to accompany such a lovely vision as yourself." Gods, there was the charm. If the man weren't such a scoundrel, he'd have landed a beautiful and wealthy wife long ago, but Portia imagined that his reputation for philandering proceeded him. It was a wonder that any woman agreed to be intimate with him, for the idea certainly repulsed the woman he was currently watching. However, curious as it was, Portia noticed that Horace was being careful not to stare at her, and especially not in any way that hinted at sexual interest. She'd noted his appreciative regard for her figure when she'd first entered his home, but it had been gone when she'd lifted out of her curtsy, and Cassius had been staring at Horace. She had failed to observe the nature of their exchange, but it wasn't her concern so long as Horace kept his eyes where they belonged.

"Where are we going, Portia?" Cassius inquired.

"You'll have to wait and see."

"He's not very patient," Horace warned. "Not when it's unnecessary."

"He'll just have to deal with it," Portia shot back, hearing a low growl in Cassius's throat. Walking beside him, she could feel a hard edge tucked into the side of his belt, and with a frown, she looked up at him. "Are you expecting to be attacked?" she asked. "Really, a knife isn't needed for dinner."

"Hmph," Cassius replied. "And I suppose that you are weaponless?" When she didn't reply, he smirked. "As I thought."

"Is this our destination?" Horace asked. They were standing before a dark archway that seemingly led into nothingness.

"It's an illusion," Portia explained. "Because this is a residential area, and the neighbors complain about light, the publican had to be inventive. This way." They passed under the arch and into the corridor beyond to suddenly find it brightly lit by glass lanterns that were fixed in a perfectly straight line down either wall. The clutter of an alley had also transformed, the formerly earthen floor now a stone pathway leading toward the sound of harps and flutes.

"Illustra," Horace knowingly stated. "I've been told of this place, but I've never been here before. This is a true treat, my lady."

"See," Portia told Cassius. "Not all surprises are bad." She released his arm and moved forward, gown glittering in the lamplight as the music grew louder. Already they could hear laughter and low conversation, and reaching the end of the hallway, they stepped onto a large landing that led down into a dining room. Each table was sectioned off by walls overflowing with ivy and small, purple flowers, and even the pathways between tables were covered by an arbor of grapes, from which the restaurant made its own wine. Hanging lanterns scattered light between leaves and left mismatched patterns on the floor, and servers bustled to and fro with trays and baskets of steaming bread, the smell reaching Portia's nose as a man advanced on her.

"Name please," he requested.

"Portia Augustine. My friends and I are expected." The man hurried to a book and scanned through it before smiling and motioned for the newcomers to follow him.

"This way please. Your table is right over here."

"Are the flowers enchanted?" Horace asked, reaching out and plucking a small blossom and stem from the wall. Portia missed seeing the action since she walked ahead of her company, meaning that she was also oblivious to Horace passing the flower to Cassius as the server explained how a local gardener tended the flowers.

"If you don't, I won't be able to resist," Horace whispered to his lord, making the prince scoff as they were motioned toward an opening in the wall.

"Let him go first," Cassius instructed in Portia's ear, causing her to remain while Horace passed them to find a seat.

"Why...?" Portia found the man too close for comfort yet again as one of his hands lifted and slipped a flower into the hair above her ear. What was he up to? She knew that the gesture could be taken romantically, but she found it hard to believe that Cassius possessed a single romantic bone, and why the hell would he be directing that sort of attention toward her anyway?

"The color matches," he quietly told her, but with a taunting, arrogant smile that was so natural to him. She hated feeling that he was laughing at some private joke concerning her, and pulling away, she watched as Cassius unexpectedly froze at the head of the table.

"Portia!" Gilthan greeted with a toothy grin. "You came, and you brought company." Considering the scowl on Cassius's face, the evening would perhaps require some maintenance.