Preview of newest "Shadows and Sunlight" episode
So, I've been writing a rather long Katarina fan fiction story I titled "Shadows and Sunlight" for some reason that made sense at the time. This Friday, I'm going to upload the newest entry, where Sarah Fortune takes on a bigger role. Here's a preview; thanks for reading!
Dawn leered in to Sarah Fortune's quarters like a vagrant voyeur; sickly yellow light leaking through the tattered curtains. She rested one leg on the arm of her chair, one hand perched on her knee. In the other she held a goblet, filled with amber Ionian bloomwine.
Jericho's gaze across the apartment at the Whispers of Dreamsilk Inn was skeptical. One of his Nightraven guards muttered about the place looking different in the daylight.
"Again, I offer my apologies for my abrupt departure yesterday. I did not intend for you to sprint off on an errand and return to an empty room."
"I was still here," Sarah chirped. Barret ignored her to nod towards Swain. She went on, "Really, it's ok. He didn't mind."
"So may I see it?" the elder Noxian general held one hand palm up towards her.
Barret shook his head, "I brought it back to the ship. It isn't safe in a tavern."
Sarah said, "Barret, the Whispers is more than just a tavern."
"Yes, Barret," Swain interrupted. "It's clearly also a gambling den and whorehouse."
"Be that as it may," Barret continued.
"We couldn't keep it here," Sarah finished for him.
Jericho scoffed and fetched a crumb to feed Beatrice, who scrambled about his shoulders. The Innmaster was none-too-keen on the raven fluttering about her establishment, having very nearly attempted to say something to the general when he walked in.
"Well, go on and get it then. I've brought the remainder of your payment," he explained as a small chest was deposited on the table in front of Sarah Fortune. "Between your business and this business with my great-nephew," he smirked, "I fear for the peasants come tax season."
"It's a 'tovian lock, General, with all intended respect, I can rely on you being here when I get back?"
Sarah tried to explain for her executive officer, "What he means is--"
"I know what he means, daughter. And he's right, I assure you. And officer, I have every intention of taking your," he coughed, "how did you call it, your recovered treasure with me."
Barret shrugged and exhaled. "It shouldn't take too long." He stood up and headed for the door.
"You just said it might?" Swain asked.
"I was tempering your expectations," he explained.
"Will you just bring the bleeding thing here?" Sarah demanded, impatient.
Barret gave a curt bow and left the suite.
"You know, girl, you should probably avoid drinking so early in the morning," Swain admonished the pirate hunter.
"I haven't slept, it's still last night for me," Sarah confessed. The door to the room popped open to admit a Nightraven runner. He sprinted to stand at rigid attention before his commander.
"General, Marcus du Couteau has called the tribunal. The session's doors close within the hour."
Jericho snarled, "That earthbound cur."
Sarah finished her goblet, swallowing the rest of her wine in a smooth gulp. "You have to be bloody kidding me," she muttered to the empty cup.
