For a moment, he stood contemplating the envelope in his hands. His mind raced with possibilities about its contents—none of them particularly reassuring. The air was thick with a tense silence, broken only by the distant muffled sounds of the girls cleaning the tavern above.
"Aren't you going to open it?" Jay inquired, his voice slicing through the quiet. The cat sat perched atop a stack of crates, his eyes fixed intently on Jamie's face.
It wasn't just Jay who watched him closely. Elize and Thomas stood nearby, their gazes steady and concerned. They observed their leader's uncharacteristically solemn demeanor as he stared at the letter. It was rare to see Jamie without his usual easygoing smile; this newfound gravity was a signal that something serious was at hand.
It was perhaps one of the few times they had seen him so somber. It was not the everyday seriousness of managing the tavern or dealing with minor troubles; it was a more profound weight that suggested a new problem had arisen.
"Damn. This isn't a good sign," Jamie muttered under his breath. With a resigned sigh, he broke the seal and unfolded the fine parchment.
He moved to sit on one of the wooden crates scattered across the cellar, the rough wood creaking slightly beneath him. The flickering light from the lanterns cast shifting shadows on his face as he read, his eyes scanning the elegant script. Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last, as his companions waited in anxious silence.
Upon finishing, Jamie exhaled deeply, frustration and contemplation playing across his features. He extended the letter toward Thomas. "Can you read?" he asked plainly.
"Yes," Thomas replied, not seeming offended by the question. As he took the letter, Jay deftly leaped from across the floor and scaled Thomas's arm to settle on his shoulder, positioning himself to view the message.
Elize leaned forward slightly, her curiosity palpable as she attempted to catch a glimpse of the writing.
"Elize," Jamie said gently, his gaze meeting hers. "I trust you, but the moment you read this letter, you'll be stepping into a world full of trouble. Only do so if you're certain it's what you want."
She hesitated, her eyes flickering between Jamie and the letter. For a moment, she seemed torn—a conflict between caution and the allure of the unknown playing out across her face. But then, a spark of determination lit in her eyes, whether fueled by curiosity or a deeper desire to be involved.
"I'm sure," Elize declared softly but firmly. "I want to know."
Jamie regarded her thoughtfully before nodding. "Very well."
She stepped closer, and together, they turned their attention back to Thomas, who began to read aloud.
To the esteemed Mr. James Frostwatch,
Receive my most sincere greetings. I have heard remarkable tales of your arrival in our humble city and of the distant towns from which you journeyed. It is truly admirable that, despite the challenges faced, you have managed to establish a tavern in the Lower Quarter.
I am not unaware of the dangers that surround that region, nor the astuteness required to prosper amidst the recent changes in the local commercial landscape. Your success has not gone unnoticed.
In light of your growing influence in Hafenstadt, I hereby extend to you an invitation to our forthcoming autumn masquerade ball. It will be an opportune occasion to meet with other respectable merchants and to discuss, in a more discreet manner, the best measures to ensure the order, security, and flourishing of this city we hold so dear.
I eagerly await your presence and trust that such a gathering will be fruitful for us all.
Sincerely,
Maria von Hafenstadt
Legs crossed, hands folded in his lap, Jamie was lost in thought.
"James Frostwatch?" Elize's voice sliced gently through the silence, filled with curiosity and a hint of surprise.
"Who's James?" Thomas asked, his brow furrowed as he looked between Jamie and Elize.
Jamie sighed softly, realizing there was no point in hiding any longer. "It's my real name," he confessed, feeling a slight unease at the half-truth. "I was expelled from the Frostwatch family, so I changed it to Jamie."
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"Ah!" Thomas exclaimed a note of understanding in his tone.
"The real question is, how did she find out?" Jamie continued, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead. "Clearly, she has a very deep and extensive information network."
"No doubt," Elize agreed. "Maria von Hafenstadt is the governor's niece. She acts as his right hand. There's nothing above the ground of this city that she doesn't know."
"Above and below," Jamie added pointedly. "She also controls the underworld of the Noble Quarter."
"The... underworld?" Elize stammered, her eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and concern.
Thomas leaned forward, skepticism etched on his face. "How can you be so sure?"
"'Sure is a strong word," Jamie admitted, leaning back and folding his arms. "The Noble Quarter isn't exactly an easy place to gather rumors. But I've had my doubts. There were others who could have taken up that mantle. But with this letter, she's confirmed her position."
"How so?" Elize pressed, her gaze locked onto Jamie.
"There aren't many who know about the moves we made to bring down the Cutpurses," Jamie explained. "For this letter to arrive three days after our attack, she must have an understanding of the underworld—perhaps even be affected by it."
"A... a... attack? What?" Elize stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper as the weight of his words settled in.
Jamie glanced at her, realizing this was all new information for her. "Moreover, she implies that she knows about our position in the Lower Quarter," he continued.
"And this ball? Why invite you?" Thomas asked, his tone edged with suspicion.
"To maintain the status quo," Jamie replied. "One of the worst things for someone carefully orchestrating plans is to have the pieces on their board toppled—especially by something they didn't foresee. Whether through diplomacy or intimidation, they'll want to ensure we're capable of fulfilling the role the Cutpurses had."
"But what role did they have?" Thomas questioned deep frown lines furrowing his brow.
Jamie could see that both Jay and Elize were engrossed in the exchange, their eyes reflecting a combination of intrigue and concern. Especially Elize, who was absorbing a whole new layer of the world she thought she knew.
"It's hard to say," Jamie admitted. "But we have a month to prepare before the festivities."
"What have I gotten myself into?" Elize murmured under her breath.
Jamie offered her a sympathetic smile. "I did warn you," he said gently. "I might not know exactly what role the Cutpurses played in her plans, but one thing is clear: we need to gain control over the region. If she's already received information about their downfall, others will find out, too. It's only a matter of time before someone becomes interested in claiming a piece of our territory."
"What can we do?" Thomas asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"For now..." Jamie began thoughtfully, gazing into the middle distance as he organized his thoughts. "Go to Knall and procure the padlock. Also, get an update on our project with him. Elize, return to preparing the tavern. I will start formulating our plans." He met their eyes in turn, a steely resolve settling over his features. "Tomorrow, before we open, we'll discuss our next steps."
With those instructions, the trio dispersed to carry out their tasks, each slipping back into the rhythm of their daily routines. The Golden Fiddle soon came alive. Patrons filled the tables, their laughter and chatter creating a tapestry of sound. Elize flitted between them with practiced ease, her smile bright as she served tankards of wine and plates of steaming food.
Throughout the day, a few wandering bards attempted to serenade the guests, strumming lutes and singing ballads in hopes of earning a few coins. Yet, as talented as some were, none could match the captivating allure of Jamie's fiddle.
As the last attraction, Jamie ascended the small stage at the far end of the main hall. The room hushed as he lifted his fiddle, drawing the bow across the strings with such force and speed it seemed like Jamie was fighting against the instrument. The feeling of brutality, rebellion, and victory hung in the air with every word Jamie sang, but he held back at the end, not wanting to stir up another revolt in the Lower Quarter.
Jay, the spectral cat, prowled among the guests, occasionally weaving between their legs or hopping onto a vacant chair to observe with keen green eyes.
As the hour grew late, the patrons bid their farewells one by one. Jamie stood by the door alongside Elize, exchanging warm goodnights or pushing the patrons that drunk a bit too much out. Thomas secured the shutters and bolted the heavy doors, ensuring the tavern was safe for the night.
The day had passed swiftly, each of them pouring their energy into the success of the Golden Fiddle. Yet beneath the surface, an undercurrent of unease lingered. It was subtle—a lingering glance here, a pensive silence there—but it was present. Each harbored their own worries about what lay ahead.
At the first light of dawn, Thomas and Elize found themselves awake, unable to rest due to the weight of anticipation pressing upon them. They made their way to the tavern's main hall and busied themselves to pass the time.
Elize was tidying the bar, which was already pristine. Thomas sat at a table near the window, gazing at the empty street.
The sound of deliberate footsteps descended the stairs almost as if summoned by their anxiety. Jamie appeared, bearing an armful of papers, scrolls, and several cloth bags that jingled faintly. He radiated a sense of confidence, his eyes sharp and focused.
"Good morning," he greeted them, setting his burden down on one of the round tables at the center of the room. The table was polished to a shine, the rich wood reflecting the soft glow of the lanterns.
"Morning," Thomas and Elize replied in unison, moving to join him.
As they gathered around the table, Jay appeared seemingly from nowhere, leaping gracefully onto the pile of papers. The cat sat primly atop them, curling his tail around his paws and surveying the trio with an air of feline superiority.
"Right," Jamie began, surveying his companions. "I believe we have everything we need to start."
He spread out the papers, revealing rough maps sketches, notes scrawled in a precise hand, and lists of names and places.
"This is our plan," Jamie declared, his voice steady and resolute.
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