(IC) Chapter 441 - The Assassin and the Princess

The Caffè della Lanterna Blu sat on a narrow stretch of canal in the quieter part of San Moro, the kind of establishment that had been there long enough to stop trying to impress anyone and had arrived, through sheer continuity, at a quiet dignity that newer places spent fortunes attempting to manufacture.

Alonso entered as a forgettable middle-aged merchant, gave the name Albera at the door, and was shown to a table near the back where the light was soft and the nearest occupied table far enough away to make conversation private without making it conspicuous.

She was already there waiting for him.

Catalina Isabel María de Castarón

Stage 1 – 50.320%

Her disguise was competent. A merchant's wife perhaps, modest dress, hair drawn up simply, nothing that invited a second glance from anyone moving through the room with ordinary eyes.

Alonso's were not ordinary.

Beneath it he read her immediately. Early twenties, her posture carrying a natural composure that had nothing to do with the character she was performing. Her features were striking in the way of someone whose beauty was built on strong clean lines rather than softness, dark steady eyes, a high forehead, a jaw that suggested considerably more stubbornness than she likely advertised in polite company. Her hands rested quietly on the table, entirely still.

Alonso settled into the chair across from her and met her gaze directly.

A brief silence passed between them, before she sent him a private pulse.

"I will assume you read my message carefully enough to understand the situation without me repeating it."

"Your uncle wants your brother dead before your father runs out of time," Alonso replied. "The throne passes cleanly to him if Leandro doesn't make it home. You came to Venettia anyway, which means either you are confident in your preparation or you wanted to draw him out somewhere away from Castarón's politics."

"Good," she sent, something close to satisfaction in it. "So, may I take the fact that you are here as confirmation you are in?"

"Your uncle offered me 980 Gold Crowns," Alonso replied pleasantly, smiling under the mask.

Catalina stared at him for a long moment, before exhaling. "That is… an offer I cannot match, Maestro Ardighieri. As stated in my message, I can offer 460 Gold Crowns for the service. Nothing more."

Alonso said nothing as his gaze shifted away casually, a smile on his face as his index finger tapped the knife on the table softly.

Catalina cursed inwardly, face calm on the outside.

"I can assure you would not be needed much, nor would I ask you to remain with us at all times. Our retinue is strong enough to withstand whatever my uncle can afford here, however… it is not the blades in the light that concern me. It is those we cannot see. As long as you can assist at key moments and identify those moving against us, that would be sufficient."

"In your message you wrote: 'I will not insult your intelligence.'" He picked the knife up, examined it briefly, set it back down. "May I ask why you are doing it now?"

She held herself very still.

"It is not that I am ignorant of the dangers, Maestro," she said, the composure intact but costing something visibly. "That is precisely why I am offering a significant sum I find appropriate for the task."

She paused briefly, gathering her thoughts. "I cannot make promises at this moment, but I can arrange for an additional sum to be delivered should my brother ascend to the throne. I will... no, I commit to 400 Gold Crowns in addition to the contract price, delivered to you the moment Leandro takes power smoothly."

Alonso leaned back slightly in his chair, one arm resting on the table, his gaze steady and entirely at ease.

"There are so many 'what ifs' in that statement," he said, "that I find it rather thin to even bring to negotiation. Should I then find myself hoping your father dies soon so I can collect my gold?"

Catalina pressed her lips together, the ghost of a frown appearing on her forehead.

"You came before me today… Darius," she said, now using his given name. "May I ask then, what are you interested in?"

"Perhaps I was bored," he said, "and found your story compelling enough to have a chat."

Catalina stared at him, doing her best to stay calm. It was hard.

"520," she said finally. "That is everything I have available in Venettia. Not a Crown more. And before you say anything," she added, just a fraction faster than everything preceding it, "I would remind you that this city is full of capable people, and my time is not unlimited."

Alonso looked at her.

"Go ahead then," he said pleasantly.

She held his gaze. "I mean it."

"I know," he said. "Good luck finding another master of Anima Velata willing to work for under a thousand."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Her jaw tightened just slightly. "Is there," she said, with the careful precision of someone choosing every word, "anything that would make 520 sufficient?"

Alonso picked up his cup for the first time, took a slow sip, and set it back down.

"Perhaps," he said.

She waited.

He said nothing else, the smile back in place, entirely unhurried.

***

Alonso was honestly having more fun than he had since arriving in Venettia. He had expectations for the famous princess and she had not disappointed.

The dialogue was genuinely engaging compared to the cheesy word games of the balls, the story behind it considerably more appealing than anything a noble with a contract problem had offered him so far.

He wondered how flexible the script would be, how realistic her reactions would prove, but in all honesty, it was convincing. Not that he had expected less. Even if The Tower's hand was clear behind the chain of events, the characters on this stage were, for all practical purposes, indistinguishable from real. A whole spectrum of emotions and motivations that felt truly grounded.

Which had made him look forward to this meeting for the past two days, and sharpened his interest in extracting as many benefits from the arrangement as possible.

That said, he knew there were lines that could not be crossed. For starters, he knew he was being watched. He could not pinpoint from where, which said quite a bit. Given he had not been followed here, whoever it was had to already be in the vicinity, their intent concealed from him well. Fifth State standards at minimum.

It did not worry him much. If there was one thing he was confident in right now, it was his ability to exit whatever situation such an entity might choose to create. That was not, however, the path he wanted to walk today.

No. Right now he genuinely wanted to enjoy the conversation with the princess Catalina herself, a figure drawn from one of the most famous women in Spanish history.

He leaned back in his chair and waited patiently for what came next.

***

Catalina had been trained for this.

Negotiations, difficult conversations, the particular chess of speaking with people who held more cards than they showed.

And yet…

He was not posturing. Not performing dominance the way men in her experience tended to when they had the upper hand. He was simply… enjoying himself.

Who was this man, exactly? The mask he wore felt thinner than he let on. She would dare say, as ridiculous as the statement was regarding someone who killed for his trade, that he was not a bad person. Her gut, which had rarely failed her, told her as much.

Catalina took a deep breath.

"What would make it sufficient," she said finally, keeping her voice level, "is a question I am prepared to answer, Maestro. But I find it more productive when both parties at a table are equally transparent."

She held his gaze. "So before I offer anything further… please tell me what you actually want."

***

Alonso stared at her and smiled.

There was something he had been prepared to bring forward, one thing he had been looking forward to most since hearing about it, and something he had now found a motivation to actually pursue. After all, while Venettia was rich and colorful, after twelve days he had seen most of what there was to see, and the juicy contracts had tapered off considerably after the first big wave.

There were honestly no real advantages to staying here beyond the coins, and he could grind toward his Fourth State anywhere in the world at the same rate. So why not give himself a treat while at it, and create the opportunity himself.

"I heard Castarón is a very beautiful place," he said. "I have found myself tempted to visit but never quite had the occasion to make it worth it."

Catalina couldn't help but frown slightly. "You… want to go to Castarón? Why?"

"Would just saying I enjoy fine architecture and history suffice?"

She had trouble grasping the train of thought. Were there ulterior motives? There had to be. But where exactly they sat she could not find.

"I would appreciate if you could be a bit more clear, Maestro," she said eventually.

"The Alcázar de Miraverde, for instance," Alonso said simply.

Catalina blinked. Of all the things she had prepared for this conversation, that was not among them. "The... Alcázar?"

"And the old city below it. The Camino. The southern quarter with the tilework and the fountains." He paused. "I have read so much about them since I was a child. Now that I have the chance, I would like to see them in person."

Catalina stared at him for a long moment, searching his expression for the angle, the leverage, the thing underneath the thing. She found nothing she could name, which was its own kind of unsettling.

"You are telling me," she said carefully, "that what you want... is to be a tourist?"

"Among other things," Alonso said.

Catalina blinked. Was he serious? No... no he couldn't be. Who in their right mind would bring something like that to a negotiation like this? Wait... did he...

"You want to be offered land and title in Castarón?"

Alonso paused.

Well. That took a turn.

Honestly, all he had wanted was to visit, and a motive that would justify the travel. A work trip that happened to double as tourism, essentially.

Since The Tower had taken the time to recreate an entire kingdom based on feudal Spain, his motherland, why not make it his base of operations for a while? It also had a Black Mantle branch, so organizationally it would not be an issue, at least based on what Virgilia had said about his freedom of movement.

So yes, he had been teasing Catalina, but funnily enough by actually being honest about it. A title? Land? That had never crossed his mind. But... hmm. Now that she had put it there, even if just for the sake of it, it did sound rather nice, didn’t it.

What would his very snobbish maternal grandfather, who prided himself on being a descendant of a Baron, say if he found out his grandson had been offered a title by Catalina herself?

The laugh stayed inside his head, but the smile reached his eyes.

"I see we understand each other," he said calmly. "However, I have no interest in being in service of the Crown. Make it an honorary title and land, and we have something worth discussing."

***

Catalina stared at him for a long moment.

Of all the negotiations she had ever conducted... this was, without question, the strangest.

That said, the offer was actually tempting. Even if purely honorary, who would not want a man of such talents linked in some way to their kingdom?

She had read about Darius Ardighieri extensively before coming, and knew well that a Grandmaster capable of Anima Velata at his age carried prospects that made any early investment a wise one.

But still… it felt too good. Where was the catch?

"Well that can be easily arranged, Maestro Ardighieri," she said eventually, keeping her tone measured. "I would take it then that you are willing to guard my brother for the duration of his stay in Venettia, in exchange for 520 Gold Crowns and an honorary noble title of Castarón with its corresponding land?"

"I am interested in a bit more than that, princess," Alonso continued. "As I stated before, I have intentions of visiting Castarón, sooner rather than later," or it may be too late, he thought to himself. "So I would guarantee you and your brother's protection during your stay, and the return trip to Castarón. Potentially open to an extension of the service, if the offer is tempting enough to make it worth joining the ongoing fight for the crown."

Catalina held that for a moment, turning it over carefully.

It was, objectively, an extraordinary offer. Protection through Venettia and home, with the possibility of something considerably more substantial on the other side of it. From a Grandmaster capable of Anima Velata.

She kept her expression composed and sent a private pulse to her hidden guardian.

"Don Quixano, what do you think?"

A long pause. Then a pulse answered her.

"A curious riddle, Your Highness. I have tilted at many a windmill in my years, and learned to read the wind before the blades turn... yet this man gives me nothing to read. His mastery of intent and Will is, at the very least, not lesser than my own."

Catalina felt her eyes widen. For Don Quixano himself to say that…

"I cannot tell you what this man is, Your Highness. But I can tell you what he is not. He is not what your uncle sent. The rest... I leave to your heart. It has always seen more clearly than mine."

Catalina took a deep breath, collecting herself, her eyes settling on Alonso as though she could pierce the mask he wore through sheer focus.

She exhaled.

"Very well, Darius. Your offer is one I find difficult to refuse. I thank you in the name of Castarón, and give you my word that should you do us this service, you will find the rewards anything but lacking."

Alonso smiled.