Text Me If You Can

[Bailey Raptis]

At some point during the day on April 13, Bailey left the same message on both Jewell and Mallory's phones. His voice was slower, thinner, and quieter than usual, but there was no mistaking the anger with which he spoke.

Voice Mail to Jewell, Mallory: Sandman's truce with me is off. He sent two of his flunkies to attack me last night at The Callow. Fucked up my hand, my leg...You come across any Stolen Ones, you ask them if they support Sandman, and if they say yes, you tell them they better renounce that support or prepare to die when the Prince in Red sweeps in. As for Achlys and Bolér...catch them if you can, kill them if you must, but I would like a crack at them if at all possible. And leave Sandman to me. He will get his when the time is right...

...Thanks.

[JewellRavenlock]

Text to My Favorite Sin: hello hello beltane is this weekend
Text to My Favorite Sin: come find me and dance
Text to My Favorite Sin: dont make me have to come find you cause I will

[JewellRavenlock]

As much as she hated to miss a date in the rings with any handsome man (and an Emperor at that!), Jewell resigned herself to the fact that she was just not fit for public consumption until after the 14th had come and gone once more. Without knowing how to locate said Emperor, she did what any respectable Empress would do: she sent a fae courier out into the City to look for one Emperor Lupton based on nothing but his name and a possibly vague description along with a few coins to buy information.

The courier carried a note from the lady herself written in sparkly blue ink reminiscent of her hair.

To My Silver Fox Rescuer,

The start of this week finds me unfortunately indisposed. While I am sure my absence will be quite the crushing blow, do not despair for I was promised a date in the rings and plan to hold you to it when I can.

Yours,

The Empress

[Lupton]

The cobblestone street that stretched before the famous Red Dragon Inn was shiny from the rain. The moonlight reflected off of each rounded stone, creating rows of silver arcs, almost like miniatures snow caps topping endless hills. A black leather boot splashed a small puddle. It belonged to one Emperor Lupton est Dracoern, en route back to his suite at the Inn. He had promised himself he was going to eat somewhere else for once, and he had finally done just that.

Lupton had noticed the young man eyeballing him two blocks prior, and as the man followed him, he had been surreptitiously observing him, catching glances of him in the reflections of store windows, large puddles, and such.

The Emperor chose not to go into the Inn, instead walking past the door, and turning down a less traveled street. The man still followed. And he was getting closer. Lupton suddenly took a sharp left, turning into an alleyway. Just as the young man made the same left, the Emperor grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and slammed him into the wall, a dagger at his throat. "Talk. Fast."

Startled and winded, the young man stuttered and stammered. "I... I..."

"Faster."

"I was paid... there was a fae... I said that I knew you. I... I lied. Just-- here!" The lad pressed the note into Lupton's chest. The Emperor let him go all at once, and he fell into a crouch against the wall, catching his breath.

Lupton calmly opened the note and read it. He smiled. He then folded it carefully and tucked it into a pocket in his cloak before tossing a coin to the young man. "Thank you."

The man caught the coin and stood up, brushing himself off. "Um... yeah. Whatever, man." He darted off quickly.

Lupton wore a small smile for the rest of his walk back to the Inn.