It was odd how many times Malcador's life was saved by finding refuge in a broom closet. 

He had whisked Emmaline off down the stairs and through two hallways, beginning to walk more casually past a servant going about his day, before he quickly turned a corner, opened the door and shoved Emmaline in there before joining her. He closed the door behind them, and when Emmaline began to protest, he shushed her and recanted a small incantation that would seal any noise they made and kept it within the confined space. It was the irony of the gods none of this was to have any fun with her. 

The soft glow disappeared from his hands, and just as he finished, there was a light above the both of them Emmaline had quickly conjured for convenience. When he looked at her, it seemed like she had done it out of habit. Her eyes were full of distracted worry. He knew how she felt. 

"What do we do?" She whispered, hands dragging down her face. 

"I don't know," he admitted. 

"You're the smart one!" She insisted. When he glanced at her incredulously, she flung her hands out. "You've got all high marks, right?" 

"Well, yes." He admitted with a bit of arrogance, before brushing his pride away as if he grabbed one of the brooms to do it. "I'm good at magic and arithmetic, not this sort of thing! Besides, you're smart too!"

Emmaline held up his coin purse in her hand. "Why cunning is a bit different," she said, and before he could protest, she handed it back to him. After he took it, Malcador began to think. "No one saw us, at least, that we know of. That gives us a small advantage." The dashing mage shook his head, exasperated. "Maybe we should tell someone..." 

Emmaline shook her golden head. "I can't tell my master, he won't believe me! And even if he did, he would say it's not his business." 

"I can't tell mine either. He would look into it, find no evidence, and then ask me why I was in that part of... Oh Sigmar save me, I still need to make it on time." He gestured with the scepter, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was caught off guard with Emmaline grabbed the front of his robe and pulled him closer, though it was to emphasize her words rather than a kiss. 

"I can't get in a large amount of trouble again, Mal! Do you understand!?" She asked with pleading eyes, before tears brimmed and she pressed her head into his chest. They dissolved all thoughts of consequences for the moment, and he let the scepter fall into the brooms as he drew his arms around her, stroking her hair. His entire association with Emmaline Von Morganstern was driving him up the wall, but he found it was not entirely unwanted, despite the risks. 

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen." He promised, and found he fully believed the statement, despite his lack of knowledge on how to keep said promise. 

She sniffed and drew her head back, albeit still clinging. "What if... What if we don't tell anyone?" She asked hesitantly, a small catch in her eye. "What if...we let it happen?" 

He looked at her, and the self-preservation in the logic, despite the death of the Ambassador on their hands, made Malcador tempted to agree with her. Not only that, but he found himself growing aroused at Emmaline suggesting it, and realized there was something immensely wrong with him. Of course, most things Emmaline did caused that reaction, but he had to draw the line [i]somewhere[/i]. "No, we... Look, if we let it happen, and someone finds out we knew, we wouldn't get in trouble. We would be on the chopping block." 

"Honestly, I was hoping you would disagree with me," she confessed, nodding. "Ranald fuck me, so what do we do?" 

Malcador licked his lips. "We... Let's finish our chores. Let's stay together as well. Rumors we can handle, right? We'll think on who we can tell, and then we'll discuss it again tonight, yes? They wouldn't kill him tonight. It's too soon from a plotting stage." 

"True, and they're likely to be more careful now that they know someone heard them." She reasoned. "Still, getting involved is even riskier than not, but we can't just let it happen, right?" 

"Why don't we tell someone anonymously?" Malcador temporized. Emmaline blinked, and smiled, clearly glad to find a solution that sated her guilt while also giving them a scot free way out. She poked his nose with her finger playfully. 

"See? I like that big brain of yours, among other parts of your anaotmy." She teased.