Celese Drisker worked hard to maintain her position. Rumors abounded throughout the Den and Dreduor about who she truly was and where she came from, but none of it mattered when you came face to face with the Queen of Thieves.

The Denmother's rooms were sequestered on their own floor, situated within the main building of the Den's center of operations. Walking into the elaborate establishment, there was no question about the status of her wealth, and no doubt that she worked for every coin. Maize had been to her private quarters numerous times before, but she was dreading the current visit.

Perhaps it was because she was considering betraying the only woman in Dreduor who thought she was actually worth something.

Maize did as Ress said she would— they shared their bed and their bodies well into the night, and she didn't think about her meeting with Celese until the following morning. She dressed in silence, throwing on a clean shirt and leggings, with boots and a strap of knives, and left him to his sleep, placing a kiss on his temple with promises of repaying him when she returned. His sleepy smile told her enough, but she left their apartment without another word as she made her way towards the Denmother's suite.

The men standing outside her door knew Maize well enough, and as was customary requested the removal of her knives, which she did without protest. Walking armed throughout the Den was expected— one's intelligence would be questioned otherwise. But being armed when visiting the Denmother was against regulation and demonstrated one's trust when visiting her unarmed. Not to mention, the guards knew the pain that would come to them if anything happened to Maize's blades while she was conducting business with the Denmother.

Celese waited for her in the main room of her apartment, sitting at a small table home to two chairs and surrounded by even more elaborate pieces of furniture and decor. Dressed in a fur-lined morning robe with a steaming cup of tea on the table in front of her, the Denmother peered at a pile of paperwork through silver-rimmed reading glasses. Her grey-streaked black hair was braided and draped over her shoulder, the tan skin around her grey eyes wrinkled from the years, and her thin lips were pulled down into a frown before she looked up at Maize's approach. Only then did she plaster on a smile that told her Celese was bothered by something and would be looking to Maize for answers.

The younger thief's breath caught in her throat, though her attempt to swallow it down was inaudible.

"Ah, Maize," Celese said as she put her papers aside and removed her glasses. "Come sit, have some tea?"

"Tea sounds great," she agreed, taking the seat that was offered. She had no ill will towards Celese, but the Denmother wasn't one to just allow her best thieves to leave her service so the last thing Maize ever wanted to do was hint towards her intentions. So instead she smiled and sipped and waiting for Celese to begin explaining the purpose of their meeting.

Celese refilled her own teacup and sat back in her chair, holding it between her delicate and well-manicured hands before look to Maize. "I spoke with Ress last evening."

She nodded, schooling her features. "He said he was bringing you the documents to complete the mark."

"Which he did," she said, motioning to the documentation spread out before her. "When I asked him about you, he mentioned you had a fall."

The Denmother's attention drifted down to Maize's hands, preoccupied with holding the cup between them. She had soaked them during her bath but with all else going on in her mind, she hadn't considered treating them with ointment or wrapping them to heal. They hadn't bothered her at all until they became the center of Celese's attention, and only then did she wish she could put the cup down and hide them under the table. But doing so now would seem cowardly, and Maize was anything but.

"I slipped," she corrected, calmly taking a sip of her tea before placing the cup on the table, making it seem as though it was no bother rather than an internal panic. She held up her hands, looking over the fingers in questions as if it was merely a cracked nail rather than damage done to every tip of the fingers on both hands.

"There's no harm in wearing gloves, Maize," Celese said to her, frowning. "I could even have thinner ones made for you if you're concerned about your grip—"

"I'll be fine," she assured her, placing one in her lap as the other returned to her teacup. "You know how the roofs of Dreduor are. No one takes care of their masonry anymore."

Still frowning the Denmother nodded. The change of subject was almost too abrupt when she asked, "I'm afraid Ress is going to desert."

Maize almost choked on her tea. "What would give you that idea?"

The look Celese gave her was almost sympathetic as if she was about to tell Maize bad news she didn't already know.

"One of my contacts spotted Ress at the market before closing last night."

"Plenty of us attend the market— why are you having him followed?"

"I'm not," Celese assured her almost defensively. "I just thought I wanted you to know his actions have raised suspicions, and after speaking with him last night—"

"Ress isn't going anywhere," she hissed. "Especially not without me."

"That's what I'm hoping," Celese said with a sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I just wanted to let you know. Unlike most of us here, he still has a family to return to—"

"You and I both know he wouldn't, and his family would never take him back."

"Be that as it may, I know how hard you both have been working, and I would hate to see him betray you like that."

Maize didn't like where this conversation was headed one bit, especially when it was she who was considering betraying the Den and dragging Ress down with her. Still, she had a part to play and bowed her head, paying attention to the tea leaves that swirled at the bottom of her cup. "I'm sure he would never consider doing such a thing, but thank you for bringing it to my attention."

"Oh, Maizelyn," she whispered, using her full name as a term of endearment the young thief was no longer accustomed to. Celese rose from her chair to kneel before Maize. which made her sit straighter in her chair, especially as the Denmother took her free hand between her own. "I've always looked at you like one of my own, you know that I hope."

Maize nodded, not sure what else to say.

"And this is the last thing I want to ask of you but..."

Celese drifted off in her thoughts and Maize already knew where this was heading. "You want me to report on Ress."

She gave Maize a sad smile. "I know you two are close, and it's only to ensure the good of the Den remains intact. It could be nothing, as these things usually turn out to be. But you must understand my position in this. One weak link threatens to break the entire chain, and if the chain breaks—"

"Dreduor falls." It was like reciting a bad omen and left Maize's mouth dry.

Celese, however, seemed content with the response, giving Maize a reassuring smile before standing and returning to her chair.

"I'm going to give the two of you the remainder of the week off. Spend some time together, rest, and report to me next week on Ress' behavior before I assign you your next mission."

"And if I have nothing to report?"

Celese looked up to her. "Then we have nothing to worry about."

Something in the Denmother's tone, however, warned Maize that if she returned without information about Ress' actions, perhaps she, too, was going to be accused of being involved in a plot to desert the only home they had that supported them when they needed it.

She had to wonder what would happen if Celese discovered just how right her assumptions had been.