"Lyrani Esch?" The human behind the ticket window flipped through the bookings log. Her straw-coloured hair gleamed in the dim torchlight. "One-way to Yidelhorn?"

"Yes." Lyrani said in the Common Tongue. There was no other language she could use. The human woman wouldn't understand elvish, and the multitude of colourful human tongues were nothing more than enthralling but incomprehensible sounds to Lyrani.

Language had divided the realm once, keeping clans within their own borders until an enchanter who specialised in linguistics developed a tongue that everyone in the realm could share. Without it, none of Lyrani's missions would've been possible. Life wouldn't be as she knew it if all the clans kept to themselves, hoarding their skills and resources not out of spite but because they didn't know how to share them.

Not for the first time, Lyrani was glad her tutor had drummed the language into her mind, even as her reply rung out with a finality that made it sound like a death sentence.

She was at Irylen Station, taking the train to Yidelhorn that would start her on the route to Vlitavia. There was no going back once she claimed her ticket.

Lyrani took a deep breath. This wasn't just like any other mission, but it should be treated as such before she unravelled herself and the rest of the realm with her.

She was going to kill a criminal and escape without attracting any suspicion. That was all there was to it.

Lord Dundor had arranged for someone from the palace to transport Lyrani and Trelle to Vlitavia upon their arrival in Yidelhorn, a brownie city a stone's throw away from Elvenland's capital. Provided that went according to plan, the work would begin.

Lyrani pulled her cloak tighter around her as a cold wind swept through the wide station doors and up her skirt. She looked up.

If it wasn't for the flickering brightness of the torches burning on the walls and the reflection of hurrying passengers, she would be able to see the stars through the skylights.

The human tore a ticket from the roll, stamped it, then slid it through the slot in the window. "Safe travels." She smiled.

Lyrani took the ticket, bowed her head as maids did, then turned to face the bustling crowd in the station.

The restaurants overflowed with patrons enjoying meals before their trips. Others rushed for their trains while some sat on stone benches flanked by stone flowerpots housing daffodils, their voices blending into one another as they chatted with their travel companions or newfound friends.

There was comfort in the activity, in the sense that Lyrani was unseen.

Nobody had noticed her in her outdated maid's dress, looking lost with a box of pancakes in one hand, her trunk in the other and some heavy dresses draped over her shoulder.

She must be a sight, but it was for the good of the realm. At least, that was what she tried to tell herself.

The breeze pushed a lock of her straight, black hair onto her cheek. She pushed her mouth to the side to blow it away and craned her neck in search of her partner. There was no sign of Trelle.

Lyrani glanced at the ticket she held against her pancake box to check where her train was leaving from. Laden with as many things as she could carry, she plodded towards Platform 3.

A young fairy knocked her elbow as he ran past, nearly splattering her pancakes on the ground.

Lyrani took a moment to regain her grip on the precious parcel, then looked back at the laughing child as he jumped into an older fairy's arms.

She couldn't help but smile at the warm reunion, at the kisses the older fairy showered on the younger one's head, at the brightness in his eyes. The child had almost destroyed Lyrani's favourite food, but it was impossible to be mad at him.

With a chance glance to her right, Lyrani caught a flash of auburn hair.

Trelle raised a well-manicured hand in greeting from where she sat under the decorative striped awning of a café. Lyrani didn't need to read the sign to know that it read "Carpe Diem".

The corner of her mouth lifted.

The café could not be more aptly named. Seizing the day was something ECISI agents were particularly skilled at and something Lyrani and Trelle needed to be ready to do for this mission.

As Lyrani approached, a gentle warmth and the familiar sweet, delicious scents of baked goods and various teas greeted her.

She had made a habit of getting something at Carpe Diem, even if it was only a muffin, before she left for a mission. Even though this ritual that she believed brought her luck was something she had borrowed from Trelle during their first mission together, she couldn't deny that she needed any good fortune she could get.

Especially for this assignment.

"Lyrani, it's good to see you. Have a seat." The other agent removed her handbag from the chair beside her to make space for Lyrani.

Lyrani set her pancake box on the table and put her trunk down beside her chair.

Trelle's garment bag lay on a third chair, where it sat at the table like another person. It was even bulkier than Lyrani's, which she never imagined would be possible. Omiane must've pulled out all the stops for Trelle's dresses, perhaps even the one she was wearing right now.

It was the green of leaves, a lovely colour against her pale skin. It could even be made from leaves, Lyrani realised upon closer inspection, noting the way the fabric fell over the other agent's chest.

Smoothing over her rough-spun skirt, she felt the most ridiculous in her clothes she had felt all evening. Next to Trelle, who looked like a sculpture of an elegant lady come to life, Lyrani must look like a living mannequin for a child with fabric to waste and a lot of imagination.

"My friend offered to redesign House Lore's livery." Lyrani slid Dessie's card out of her pocket.

Trelle raised an eyebrow as she took it. "'Dessie Rask," she read, rolling the name in her mouth. "Apprentice seamstress, Omiane's Boutique." Her eyes brightened in recognition. "Jacden's fiancée, right?"

"Yes." It was Lyrani's turn to raise her eyebrows.

Jacden had talked about Dessie nonstop during missions, but that was years ago. Lyrani was surprised Trelle still remembered.

The other agent tilted her head, eyes distant with contemplation. "I might just take her up on her offer. The livery has been the same for generations. I guess it could use some freshening up."

Lyrani blinked in surprise. Had she heard correctly?

The Trelle she knew wouldn't listen to her ideas, let alone agree to any of them.

Perhaps Dessie was right, and the other agent was more open to changing than Lyrani had given her credit for. Perhaps this mission wasn't doomed to be a failure like their previous one had been.

"How are you feeling, Lyrani?" Trelle rearranged the fur stole she wore over her shoulders. She took a sip from the steaming cup cradled in her hands.

"Fine, I guess. How about you?"

"Better since I started drinking this." Trelle gestured at her cup.

Lyrani frowned at it. "What is it?"

The floral scent was vaguely familiar, but there was something more fragrant accompanying it, something Lyrani couldn't place.

"Chamomile tea with strawberry essence. It's very soothing," said Trelle. "Would you like one?"

The anxious twist in Lyrani's stomach gave her her answer. Besides, she could use something warm on a cool night like this.

"Sure. Sounds like it's worth a try."

"Perfect. I'll be right back." Trelle took a sip of her tea, then stood.

Lyrani fumbled for the purse in her pocket. "I can get it myself."

"Don't be silly," said Trelle. "It's my treat."

Before Lyrani could argue further, Trelle headed into the café, shooting Lyrani a smile that would have any other being instantly charmed. Instead, Lyrani only felt a mild irritation.

She didn't need favours from Trelle. She may not be nobility any longer, but she earned well enough to buy her own tea. Most of all, she hated feeling like she owed Trelle something.

It was just a cup of tea, but when bought by a woman who played feelings like a fiddle for a living, the small gesture took on a more sinister connotation.

"Here you go."

Lyrani didn't even notice Trelle had returned until she set the tea in front of her. She glanced at the queue lined up in front of Carpe Diem's counter, a queue that hadn't moved since Trelle had made and received her order. A few of the people in line stared after Trelle, some frowning, some glaring, but all with a reluctant admiration in their eyes.

For a woman who could tease secrets from the most dangerous people in the realm, charming someone to hurry her tea order along was probably easy work.

"Thank you." Lyrani forced a smile, waiting for the catch or condition that accompanied Trelle's favour.

There was none.

Trelle laid a spotted, porcelain jar filled with sugar and a spoon wrapped in a serviette on the table. "I thought you could use these."

Lyrani nodded before mixing a spoonful of sugar into her tea. "Mmm," she said after her first sip. It warmed her all the way from her mouth down to her stomach. "I like it."

The chamomile tasted earthy if a bit flat. The strawberry essence livened it up. Lyrani would never have paired them up in a drink, but they complimented each other well.

"I knew you'd like it." Trelle smiled. She brushed a silky auburn curl away from her eyes, another seductive tactic that Lyrani saw straight through. "What time must we board?"

Lyrani looked at her ticket, then her watch. Both said 7 o'clock. She checked again to be sure.

How had time moved so quickly? It felt like minutes ago that Dessie had left her at the station. Her curse of lateness would follow her all her life.

"Now." Lyrani looked up at Trelle.

Eyes widening in alarm, Trelle took a hasty gulp of tea, then she and Lyrani gathered their belongings and slipped between the crowds.

Lyrani had thought she was at full capacity before, but now she had the tea to think about too. She held the box of pancakes under her arm, hoping that the syrup wouldn't leak out onto her already ridiculous outfit. Perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Aside from being sticky and very uncomfortable, it would be messy enough to convince anyone that Lyrani was indeed a maid.

There were about fifty passengers in the line to board the train, but it moved slower than the passage of the sun across the sky.

Lyrani's stomach growled, and she contemplated digging into her pancakes. She would've, if she'd had the hands to spare.

At last, she and Trelle found themselves at the front of the queue. The elf conductor checked their tickets, tipped his hat at Trelle and gestured for the porter, a sturdy brownie, to load their trunks.

Inside, the train smelt like tobacco and the cheap, sweet room mist that couldn't quite obscure it.

Humans were the biggest tobacco users in the realm, with elves not too far behind. The least they could do was keep their habit outside where there weren't any objects or surfaces to contaminate. That's what Lyrani had told her ex-boyfriend more times than she could count.

He hadn't smoked often, but she kicked him out of the cottage on the rare occasions that he needed to because of "work pressure". The smell gave her a headache; the memories, even more so.

Lyrani claimed the seat beside the window and flung it open, inhaling deeply. The night breeze blew through the space in delightfully fresh wisps.

There was something calming about taking train journeys in the darkness. Perhaps it was the quiet of the countryside as people retired for the day. Perhaps it was the black night itself, closing around Lyrani in an embrace that reminded her that she wasn't alone.

An ache settled into Lyrani's shoulder at the weight of the garment bag. She stood to hook the dresses on the overhead rail beside Trelle's. Dessie had made it clear that her creations were too fragile to be transported with the other luggage and had to be treated with respect.

Dessie's protectiveness over the garment bag made Lyrani's curiosity about what it contained almost unbearable, but she'd have to wait until she reached Vlitavia before she could see what Dessie and Omiane designed for her.

The fabric of Lyrani's seat was frayed with age, but she returned to it and shifted, trying to find a position that would make this journey somewhat bearable.

Beside Lyrani, Trelle took her place on the aisle. Lyrani gave up on getting comfortable, turning to her box of pancakes instead. There was nothing better than a sweet, sticky treat to take one's mind off a bitter grudge.

"So, it's our first mission together in two years." Trelle leaned back in her seat.

Lyrani broke off a piece of pancake with the fork taped to the inside of the lid. "Yes."

Trelle smoothed her skirt. The fabric fell away from her leg, revealing a thigh-length slit Lyrani hadn't noticed before.

She had to admit, she was impressed. King Nash wouldn't know what hit him when Trelle was through with him. The distraction she presented would render Lyrani invisible, which was what she needed to be when she ended the king's reign of terror once and for all.

"I'm really glad that you changed your mind about this mission. Lord Dundor would never force you to do anything you didn't want to, but I don't think there's any better duo than the two of us to handle this," said Trelle. "Are you ready?"

Lyrani shrugged as she took a bite of pancake. It was delicious though cold and soggy in her mouth. She took a sip of her now lukewarm tea.

If Lord Dundor was going to force her to work with Trelle, the least he could have done was book them separate seats on the train. Lyrani was afraid she was going to say something she couldn't take back, something she'd regret.

"Lyrani..." Trelle took her hand. "I know you blame me for what happened to Jacden. I'm sorry. I made a mistake. Please can you forgive me?" Her grey eyes were earnest. "We need to work together now, and we can't do that if you're still mad at me."

Lyrani had been the one to tell Dessie what had happened. That she had seen him die. That she had been there and couldn't save him.

Lyrani had held her best friend every night she cried herself to sleep.

That day, Lyrani had lost one of the few people she would trust with her life, and a superficial apology wasn't enough to absolve Trelle of her culpability.

Lyrani pulled her hand away from Trelle. "I have a duty to my people. I am prepared to work with you on this mission, and I am willing to leave my feelings out of it."

Trelle's face fell. Lyrani hated to snub her, but she couldn't lie, not even to spare the other agent's feelings.

Trelle was right. They needed to work together.

Lyrani couldn't let her anger and frustration poison this mission. She wasn't who she was before—a junior agent in awe of all Trelle was and did, marveling at her every feat, dazzled by every smile. She had been there once, and all it had taught her was that senior agents also made mistakes.

Perhaps Lyrani and Trelle would never again be friends, but she could be cordial enough to make this partnership work.

"Forgiveness takes time that I haven't had," said Lyrani softly.

Two years sounded like a long while, but it wasn't when someone Lyrani cared about was wrenched from her life with such force that it left scars.

To this day, Dessie couldn't say Jacden's name. She still wore the ring he had given her when he asked her to marry him. Morloy kept his fallen friend's ECISI badge in the box Jacden had received at his induction.

Lyrani lived with the memory and the guilt. It came to her when she least expected it, in the middle of a mission or in the thick of sleep, and it was a reminder that she would always live with this burden.

Jacden had been the fourth wheel of their carriage, one that seemed to be falling apart a little more every day since Lyrani and her friends had lost him. They couldn't run the same way now that he was gone.

With downcast eyes that Lyrani couldn't read, Trelle nodded and turned away. She didn't speak for the rest of the journey, intentionally or unintentionally guilt-tripping Lyrani into feeling that she had been harsh, even though she didn't regret her honesty.