The marketplace had never felt this suffocating. Violet sat at the corner of a dimly lit tavern, her fingers lightly tapping against the wooden surface of her mug. Across from her sat Eleanor, expression unreadable, her golden eyes reflecting the candlelight like molten gold.

  "...You knew about the missing cargo before anyone else," Eleanor finally broke the silence.

  Violet took a slow sip of her drink, letting the bitter taste settle on her tongue. "A wild assumption," she said, her tone carefully neutral.

  Eleanor scoffed. "Spare me the games. Someone's been meddling, and it's not just petty thieves. That shipment held more than just spices, didn't it?"

  Violet didn’t answer immediately. The air between them grew heavier as the sounds of drunken laughter and clinking mugs in the background faded into insignificance.

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  "You wouldn't have called me here if you didn't already have a theory," Violet said finally, tilting her head. "So, tell me, Eleanor, what do you think I did?"

  Eleanor leaned forward slightly. "I think," she whispered, "you made a deal with someone. Someone powerful enough to make that cargo disappear without a trace. Someone whose influence runs deeper than most would dare to believe."

  Violet's lips curled into an enigmatic smile. "And if I did?"

  Eleanor studied her, searching for something—perhaps hesitation, perhaps guilt—but all she found was amusement.

  "...You're not denying it."

  "Should I?"

  For the first time, Eleanor hesitated. Her grip on the table tightened. "...I should report this to the guild."

  Violet chuckled softly. "Should you? That depends, Eleanor. Are you truly willing to see where that path leads?"

  Silence.

  Outside, the streets were alive with the usual chaos of the night market, but within the dimly lit tavern, a silent battle waged between two sharp minds.

  Eleanor was no fool. She knew that Violet wasn't someone who acted recklessly. If she had interfered with the cargo, there was a reason—one that the guild might not want to uncover.

  "...You always have a plan," Eleanor muttered, pulling back. "And I don't like it."

  Violet merely smiled, taking another sip of her drink. "Then perhaps," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "you should learn to keep up."

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