Thread: Royal Playtoy (Alexander and SunnyFairview)

In the end, he had relieved himself of the two inspectors. One kept insisting they go back, that they had a tip that their quarry was inside the inn, but Daxton knew how that situation might end, with the other gamblers ratting him out when they were questioned alongside all the other patrons. He did his best to dissuade the men of that notion, reiterating how he had already blocked a skulking scamp and sent it on its way. Curiously, the guards did not drill him about the imaginary figure's appearance, giving him the slight impression that they weren't entirely sure what the person they were chasing looked like. He could have described one of the fellows who had walked in, or invented an entirely new person, but the latter would have gotten him in trouble with the guards eventually, and the former would be partaking in exactly the type of informing he wished to avoid being part of with the other gamblers. But in the end, he was free, the guards did not yet realize they had been stumped, and he had a little extra spending money on his person. He had a rule, that served him well enough, that he would never make another round of betting on the same day that he managed to be up, even if it were only by a few pennies. It didn't quite apply, and it certainly didn't work well to the times that he was down, and most of those days of losses ate heavily into whatever more honest money he had acquired to that point. The worst times were when he hand to reach under his dark maroon jerkin, untie the strings of his white shirt, and run his fingers along the silver necklace that lie beneath, wondering whether to throw it onto the table to support his most desperate ante. He weighed his options to spend time on a mid-afternoon. Going to the market seemed a way to indulge himself too easily and spend as much as if he were being cheated by a pair of loaded die. It was certainly too early to turn into his room for the night, the only time he considered a retreat at this time of day was when he already had a companion around his arm and a way to make the innkeeper busy with work the next morning. He made up his mind to take a visit to the town's fountain, said to be lucky by all the townspeople, almost exactly like every other fountain no matter the owner and no matter how mundane or grand it might be. It didn't much matter to him, finding a bit of fresh water, and perhaps a nice cool mist from it, might drive away the smell of the sea from his nose. He was in the lower portion of the town, close to the water line, with a thick scent of salt filling the air. His eyes traveled everywhere as he walked. First they would be on the path ahead of him, making sure that he wouldn't bump into anybody. Then they might trail along any signs hanging from a building, that stood out to him. He would observe inhabitants through their windows, performing their craft, or making a sale, or perhaps performing simple housework. He would even stare at his feet while pacing, observing how his dusted up boots no longer perfectly matched the color of his breeches. But most telling of all, was the figure behind him, which seemed to shadow, no matter which turn he made or side-avenue he strolled through. He couldn't say he knew why he was being trailed, but he knew the art himself, and he knew the etiquette. If you are in a miserable mood, you yell at them quite loudly, and hope they have no real business with you. If things are more pleasant, you leave them be, and pretend as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. If you are guilty... well oh my, then the stakes are raised and the chase is on. Daxton was not guilty, at least not today. There was one way he found relatively surefire to discover a person's intent. After a thirty-minute trip that should have only taken twenty, thanks to the turns and diversions, he found himself in front of the structure throwing water into the air, and letting it drop into a stone-ringed pool. An arm lowered itself, and he could feel the cool liquid against his skin, a nice contrast from the heating of the sun. Splashing a small bit towards his face, he already felt refreshed. But, enough amusement for now, there was a matter to attend to. He took a seat upon the low stone wall, letting his legs extend out in front, and patted subtly at his side. If somebody had business with him, they might take the opportunity to approach, come forward, and be honest with him. If they had a more sinister intention, he would remain alone, and know to be on his guard.