The Embassy Suite
The girl? Lafitte thought. He’d barely noticed her and very much doubted her expertise in thievery. After all, Lafitte had run with some of the most highly skilled and experienced around, back home, even if they weren’t exactly allies. It wasn’t that she was female — Maurepas had plenty of women in the criminal business — it was that she looked too delicate. Subsistence in that life was hard, in many ways harder than his own profession. At least pirating gave you a boat to go back to, a home.
When the lawyer announced her leave and promised to see her later, Lafitte nodded, must’ve done something rather profitable, if the lawyer thought she’d make money in it. Then again, with the Ereonis brothers involved, there could be little doubt there. He’d take up a case like too, if he were a lawyer. Lafitte quietly rose from his position on the couch, finishing his tea as he did so, when the box of masks were brought out. They were of a fashion that had just begun to catch on in Maurepas during the Carnival festival when he was there. Lafitte felt there might’ve been something symbolic to the fact that similarities in tradition could cross whole worlds, but he wasn’t quite so philosophical as to complete the thought.
For himself, he chose a metallic silver one with black lines running in an intricate pattern around the eyes and cheek bones. The eyes gave it a slightly angry look to his way of thinking, and he felt that was fitting. As they left the embassy suite and made their way down to a dock, he rolled himself a cigarette, but when he tried to put it up to his mouth he realized the mask was in the way.
Putain de l’enfer, he thought. Why they were in style if you couldn’t smoke, he couldn’t say. Placing the rolled up tobacco in the bag and back into his pocket, he stepped into the boat without much ado.
This had better be worthwhile, he thought, a newfound annoyance in his thought.
The Alley Road
Beau scowled behind his black mask. Called my bluff. It wasn’t entirely unexpected but bothersome nonetheless.
He began to slowly back towards the other end of the alley. If they were to fight, he’d need them to strike the first blow, make it clear to the embassy guards that it was not he who started this exchange.
“Indeed,” he said, “and that being the case, I’d like to remove myself from your property as soon as possible,” making a slight ironic bow as he continued.
Beau began to plan out his movements as he gripped the palmed knife tighter. When and if one of them struck, he would be ready. Backing away at a slow, but steady pace he began to near the water end of the alley.
Why don’t things ever go smoothly like in the novels? he thought somewhere in the back of his mind.