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[url=http://image.ibb.co/jqLASx/421ac45a9675cd0dbe3cb1120dbbc8fb.jpg][sub]꧁꧂[/sub][/url][/center]

[indent][color=fff200]~[b][u]Bradles Worth, Lake Victorine[/u].[/b]
~[b][u]The Percullin Main Mansion[/u].[/b][/color][/indent]

The man was wise as he was blind. A hint of a smile could not be stilled as she nodded once at Jono. As far as the assassin was concerned, the fracturing of unity between the Underhanded, as the man saw it, was a good thing; this insight of his gave him a glimmer of hope. And he cared not that his 'other daughter, Ouna' the servant girl did not return to him. That left Mercaidi's persona as the 'other daughter' in the clear; 'Ouna' was going to die. The Wicked One had all the info she needed.

[color=a187be]"A safehouse for a safe return then. You will have your daughter, of which one returns to you I cannot promise. But you have my word that we will keep our end of the bargain so long as you keep yours, orchard keeper."[/color]

A soon as her words were spoken the door shattered open. The servants and guards would see Jono on his knees, weeping softly. At the window they would see a mithril armoured form slip a cowl over its head then slip further into the hue of night. The black form then flowed like liquid black into the dark gathered between the trees. Only the perceptive would see it streak away, like a bladefish through inky black waters.

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The following day, Mercaidi met up with the horse bandits and paid them the handsome sum for two falsely branded riding stallions and a simple carriage. But she was not dresssed as Mercaidi this day. No, her garb was made of rather fine finery and her face was shrouded in dark veils; today, Mercie was 'Ivonnia the Widow.'  

She left an encrypted note in the well for Gia to find and made sure that her Underhanded partner would meet near the Darlington Bridge come nightfall. As she waited, Mercie-- 'Ivonnia' made good use of her time placing and tying weapons and other such useful items all over the carriage. These were standard placements that even Gianna would know when the time came. And the time would come, they were two lone females headed by their lonesomes into the dangers of the northern lands afterall.

Mercie considered making an excursion to hire out a driver and scout, but decided that the less witnesses, the better. And so Gianna would have to play driver instead and so she had decided to travel light and pick up supplies in the next town over. 

Normally, the mixed-blood would be calm and sit at the ready, half-meditating, half-preconceiving. Strategies, pitfalls, dangers, exit strategies and the like would be mulled over, de-constructed, re-thought out, perfected. But she just could not concentrate. No, it was because of Gianna. And not because of the interference she played in Mercie's life as 'Ouna' but because... 

Because Gianna still had Mercaidi's heart and oh, how Gia heated Mercie's heart and other parts. 

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[indent][color=fff200]~[b][u]Bradles Worth, Lake Victorine[/u].[/b]
~[b][u]Near the Darlington Bridge[/u].[/b][/color][/indent]

It was nighttime now, and Gia would be here soon. And up until now, Mercie could not concentrate. And so finally, Mercie gave in and did what she had to do. In the back of the carriage, the ashen-skinnned woman decided to 'take matters into her [i]own hands'[/i] and promptly began to 'calm' herself. Oh, but how she wished Gia was the one 'calming' her right now--

Two taps on the glass interrupted her. Orange-yellow eyes popped open wide and met the gaze of sky-blue ones. 

[color=fff200]"Oh. [i]Gia...![/i] H-hail, sister... I was... w-waaaas just... um... oh but how this gown itches. Aye. So itchy... s-so I was just... I was juuuuust. [i]Scratching[/i]."[/color]

Mercaidi Kin'Myla, nearly one hundred years old, a killer, a murderer, a survivor, high-ranking Underhanded membere, a woman who fought daemons of the Abyss in her Shadow cloak, stammered away like a little girl,  embarrassed and high pitched in voice. That and she told her just-as-deadly-sister that she was 'scratching there' of all places.

[color=fff200]"How... h-how are you this fine eve, Gianna...? Shall we speak of plans up n-north then?"[/color]

Mercie looked just like a little girl that got busted with her 'hand in the [i]cookie jar'[/i]. Blushing and eyes shining, she gave the blonde Fae-Elf a weak and forced smile.
  
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