Chapter 12: Trading Favors and Flirting with Trouble

Chapter 12: Trading Favors and Flirting with Trouble

Silvia's POV

After the bathhouse disaster, Silvia was convinced Dragon was on a mission to test her patience. He had spent the entire walk back to their inn grinning at her, throwing out smug comments about how she was just too flustered around him.

She considered setting his coat on fire. Just a little.

Instead, she focused on their next step. Ashen Hold wasn't just a place to rest—it was an opportunity. The city was filled with traders, mercenaries, and information. If they were going to figure out why everyone wanted her, they needed to start digging.

And that meant dealing with unsavory people.

The Black Market

The underground market of Ashen Hold wasn't advertised, but it wasn't exactly hidden, either. If you knew which tavern to ask around in and who to bribe, doors opened.

Dragon led the way, effortlessly navigating through the dimly lit corridors of an old, half-collapsed factory that had been repurposed into a den of illegal trade. Silvia kept close, eyes sharp as she scanned the various stalls selling forbidden weapons, rare magical trinkets, and even monster parts.

"This place is…" Silvia hesitated, watching as a cloaked figure haggled over what looked like a bottled nightmare. The dark mist inside the glass pulsed ominously. "Unsettling."

Dragon chuckled. "Relax, sweetheart. This is where the real business happens."

She eyed him. "Why do you sound like you've done this before?"

His smirk widened. "Because I have."

Before she could question him further, they reached a vendor with a wall of stolen documents pinned behind her booth.

A woman sat behind the counter, one boot propped up, lazily twirling a knife between her fingers. She had sharp emerald eyes and a wicked grin that told Silvia this woman lived for trouble.

"Well, well," the woman purred. "Didn't expect to see you here, Bromson."

Silvia arched a brow. "You know her?"

Dragon gave a nonchalant shrug. "Lark and I have… history."

Silvia immediately didn't like her. Not one bit.

Lark grinned, clearly enjoying the tension. "What do you need, love? A forged identity? A bounty cleared? Or are you just here to reminisce?"

Dragon smirked but leaned in slightly. "We need information. About the Terrans, about the underground war, and about anyone asking questions about Silvia."

Lark's playful expression turned sharp. "That's a dangerous request."

Silvia crossed her arms. "We can pay."

Lark studied her before letting out a slow laugh. "Oh, I like you. Feisty." She leaned forward. "But I don't take coin. I trade in favors."

Silvia immediately didn't like where this was going.

A Favor for a Favor

Lark pulled a sealed letter from beneath her coat and slid it across the counter. "Deliver this to a man named Corvin. He owns a tavern near the east docks. Once that's done, I'll give you what you need."

Silvia hesitated. "And what exactly is in this letter?"

Lark's grin widened. "Oh, sweetheart. Some things are better left unknown."

Dragon exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "Here we go."

Silvia narrowed her eyes. "If this gets us involved in some criminal mess—"

Lark held up a hand. "It's a simple delivery. No bloodshed. Unless you make it that way."

Silvia exhaled. "Fine." She grabbed the letter and shoved it into her coat. "But if this goes sideways, I'm coming back to burn this place down."

Lark winked. "Looking forward to it."

The Delivery That Wasn't

Silvia and Dragon made their way through the winding back alleys toward the east docks, the sounds of the bustling city fading as they reached the quieter, more dangerous districts.

"This feels like a trap," Silvia muttered.

Dragon shrugged. "Most things are."

They reached Corvin's tavern—a rundown, two-story establishment that smelled like cheap ale and bad decisions. Silvia stepped forward to enter, but Dragon grabbed her wrist.

"Wait." His voice had shifted, all amusement gone. Serious. Focused.

Silvia followed his gaze to a figure standing on the rooftop of a nearby building.

A Terran.

The figure was watching them.

Silvia tightened her grip on the letter. "Guess we're not as subtle as we thought."

Dragon smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Looks like we've got company."

Silvia exhaled sharply. "Fine. But let's make this quick."

As they stepped into the tavern, she had the sinking feeling that nothing about this was going to be quick—or easy.

Inside the Tavern

The inside of Corvin's establishment was just as Silvia expected—dimly lit, filled with the heavy scent of unwashed bodies, spilled ale, and a faint trace of something metallic. The patrons barely looked up as she and Dragon entered, but the moment she approached the bar, a tall, broad-shouldered man turned to face them.

Corvin.

His weathered face creased into a frown. "I don't do business with strangers."

Silvia slid the letter onto the counter. "Lark sent us."

Corvin's expression darkened as he picked up the letter, turning it over in his hand. Then, without a word, he tore it open and read the contents.

Silvia's gut tightened. "That wasn't meant for you."

Corvin scoffed. "If Lark thought I wouldn't open it, she's dumber than I remember."

Silvia was about to snap back when Corvin crushed the letter in his fist and let out a long breath. Then, suddenly, he reached for a hidden blade beneath the bar.

Dragon moved in an instant, grabbing Silvia and pulling her back as Corvin lunged.

"Great," Silvia hissed. "I knew this was a trap."

Dragon sighed. "Didn't we just agree that everything's a trap?"

The fight was on.