She blotted at her mouth with the back of her hand and regretted it. The taste of the filth she’d been leaning up against was worse than the taste of vomit. She grimaced, which pulled at her sliced open cheek. She hissed in pain and reached for her flask, certain that no employer would fault her a belt just then. She undid the top and with priorities well in order she poured a liberal dose on her cheek and then in her mouth. Whiskey washed away the taste of bile and filth and the burning sting in her cheek was a cleaner pain than the dull ache had been. Thus fortified she offered the flask to her employer and turned to the Guards.

“They must have thought we were easy pickings.” She said, not wanting to go into the details of what had happened. She wasn’t certain what they’d been after but as she’d said to Florie, her still tongue was part of the package and she wasn’t about to inform the guards about anything odd. There was corruption everywhere after all. 

“I was happy to correct their false assumptions.” She said with a grin that hurt but fit. 

She held up her guild tags, catching the wan light of the far too distant torch with them and they nodded, understanding a little better what had happened. They asked her a few things, she answered them back and they settled up the whole affair in a few minutes and the guards too their leave after offering to escort them wherever they wished to go. This drew an insulted scowl from Katherine which sent them on their way. As they departed, the sound of their boots clattering on the cobbles leaving, nearly as welcome as the sound of them arriving had been. 

She turned to the ink-stained man beside her and gestured for him to lead the way.

“Do any of the priests in your place happen to know their way around a needle and skin? Don’t want to mar my good looks.” She laughed bitterly and flipped her braid back over her shoulder. “Florie can’t sew a straight line to save her life.”