THE SABLE SPY | ONE

  TEN YEARS AGO,

  FAMILIAR FACES WERE RARE at this end of town. Marcus Dalton's eyes narrowed around the face of the young girl who had captured his attention. Of course he had been here before: working for the Arecian Secret Service as a new recruit meant slumming it with unsavoury figures, many of them residing here in the Sial Corner, the home of crooks, smugglers, pimps and whores. But those people he had tucked into a neat little box within his mind labelled Criminals. This girl did not belong there. She stood out, even in her ugly clothes. Perhaps it was the expression of determination, barely hiding the pain swimming under her skin. Or maybe it was her knife-straight posture, as if she was trying to convince herself into being confident. He did that sometimes.

Beside him, as if sensing his hesitation, Phillippe Cadieux, friend and mentor slowed his steps. When he halted, Laurence Dumont, on his other side, slowed as well. From a distance, they might as well have been a father with his two sons. Albeit two very different looking sons, so maybe a son and a nephew instead. Or maybe a son and his friend. Or perhaps not related at all, considering Cadieux's dark skin and the two boy's fair ones. Or maybe Cadieux would have been thought as the servant. Arecia, no matter how much of a leader they thought themselves in the new, changing world, was just as prejudiced and old-fashioned as any other country, after all.

They were just returning to their headquarters on Borewood Street after a particularly unspectacular meeting with some smugglers who had a message for them. It had been a boring day, uneventful, nothing achieved. People thought spies lived in constant danger and excitement, but that was not true. Most of the days passed like this.

"Is something wrong?" Cadieux's voice was hoarse. His throat had been damaged a few years ago, and his voice had never fully gone back to normal. It was an ugly voice. Perhaps someone else might find the man pleasing to the eye in his own way, but he reminded Marcus of an ugly bear. It added to the air of mystery around him. He, for one, looked the part of the perfect spy, efficient, practical and straight-to-the-point.

"The Eastern girl in grey. No, to the left. Yes, there. I recognise her."

Cadieux's brow raised. "And she is?"

He didn't answer. Marcus had already sped forward to cut the girl off in her track. He took his time to take a proper look at her as he ran forward, dodging between passersby with expert ease. She was tall, almost as tall as him, and looked around his age as well. Perhaps even a bit older. Her dress was ragged, her face slightly covered in soot. But he could make out her face well enough. She slowly raised her head, meeting his eyes almost hesitantly, but he knew better. After all, this girl had almost been his bride. Her gaze was scorching, her expression scorned, but there was a touch of confusion hidden in them as Marcus stood directly in her path and showed no inclination to moving. And then recognition flared in her dark eyes, but she made no move to relax. In fact, she seemed to stiffen further. She recognised him but did not trust him. Clever girl.

She didn't say anything either, but she stopped walking, staring at him suspiciously. Marcus gestured for Cadieux and Laurence to approach.

"What on earth are you doing here?" He asked, noting the pearl earrings she always seemed to wear, though they were now covered in what seemed to be year's worth of dust. The last time he had seen her, she had worn a lilac dress, and her hair had been pulled up in one of those ridiculous styles with massive hats Saian noble girls seemed to like so much. She could not look more different now.

She didn't reply, her gaze jumping to the two men now standing besides him, alert and nervous. Her body was tense, as if she was ready to run. Cadieux spoke.

"Don't plan on running, girl. I promise you that we will catch you." Cadieux, who didn't know who she was, but realised what she was immediately. Some spies were of skill and logic, others intuition. Cadieux was both, and that was what made him so dangerous.

  She didn't relax, only watched them warily, like a rabbit cornered by a fox. But Marcus knew that this girl was no rabbit. A rabbit did not have a face that spoke of shrewd intelligence and quiet perceptiveness. This girl was not meek. She had the tongue that lashed out like a whip. He had never been at the end of it, but he had seen her flay people with it without much a second thought. And if what he had recently been informed regarding her great-aunt was correct, she most likely could put up a fight. A small one that she'd lose, but a fight nonetheless.

"I got separated."

Three quiet words. To anyone else, they'd have made no sense, but she knew Marcus had recognised her. And in her clever little mind, she had probably realised who Cadieux was. And Laurence looked enough like his father— who she most probably had seen before, that she knew she could not escape.

Laurence tilted his head curiously. Marcus responded, "And you somehow find yourself in the worst neighbourhood in the country?"

"It's the one place people wouldn't raise an eyebrow at. Plenty of young orphans here. Some bringing a tiny fortune with them." Like he remembered, her Arecian was not marred with a foreign accent. If you hid her face, you might have thought she was a native. Her words were clear and crisp, and she hadn't bothered hiding her highborn accent. Cadieux's eyes were narrowed now. Perhaps he was starting to realise who she might be.

"Marcus, do you mind introducing us?"

He glanced around at the crowds walking by. Anyone could hear them at any moment. He gestured with his head towards the direction of Borewood Street. "Not here. Somewhere more private."

"I need to go home."

"Home?" He asked incredulously. "In a place like this? You'd be better off with us, I assure you. We have nice beds and hot tea. Good food, too, though I'd rather die than admit it to Georgiana."

"My sister would be worried if I don't go back soon."

Marcus's mind spun before he froze. "Your sister? Isn't she eight?"

She just watched him without a word. Marcus glanced at his companions. "She and her sister are both valuable and important. I'm not letting them stay in the slums. I say we follow her home, let her grab her sister and pack her belongings and drag her to Borewood Street. We can decide what to do from there."

Cadieux pinched his nose, exasperated. "You better give me answers soon, son."

"I will. But just... take us to your abode. We're taking you somewhere safe."

"Nowhere is safe," the girl grunted, though she didn't argue as she spun on her heel and began in the opposite direction, not glancing back to make sure they were following. Her steps were steady, turning down the streets until she stopped in front of a small building. It was the kind of place that reeked of desperation. He could spot rats running out of the walls. It smelt like shit and smoke and everything nasty. How two highborn girls managed to end up here was beyond him. But then, the girl's entire family had been stripped of their land and power and exiled mere months ago, so he wasn't all too surprised.

She led them down a small corridor before walking down into the basement. The door was locked, and she rapped on it four times. A specific pattern. They were careful. Explains how neither sister had been dragged punching and kicking to a brothel yet. The door swung open a moment later, showing an almost identical girl, albeit much younger, with a disgruntled expression. Equally covered in dirt, the bags under her eyes dark, but she still held herself with pride, her head raised. There was no mistaking either of these girl's lineage. An idiot could tell they held themselves like aristocrats.

"You're late." Not a word or a glance at the three gathered behind her. Formidable girls, both of them. Their great-aunt trained them both well. Perhaps that was why she had been the one tossed to the altar of marriage instead of one of her more important cousins.

"Pack up." He didn't need to see her face to know that there was quiet fury in her eyes. "These gentlemen are going to bring us somewhere safe."

Finally, the little girl's eyes turned to him. Recognition there. And then Cadieux. Narrowed eyes. And then Laurence, who was watching proceedings with an amused expression. She let out an unintelligible grumble and stormed back into the room. Her sister followed.

Cadieux turned to him for an overdue explanation.

"Cassalyn and Cirinique Diao." He let their names weigh in for a moment. Laurence's eyes widened. Cadieux's expression turned dark.

"The Sable's relatives?"

The Sable referred to the disgraced Duchess of Dai, once one of the most powerful women in the world. The recent revolution in Sai had exiled her entire family. She now only held a sliver of the power she once held, but she was still an important figure.

He nodded. "Her favourites. They're her great-nieces. The Duchess's youngest brother's youngest son's daughters. Completely unimportant technically speaking, and very obscure, but the Duchess is immensely fond of them. Before the revolution became a well-known fact, there was a... discussion of marriage between me and the older sister, Cassalyn. Never finished the negotiation, of course. Once they went back to Sai, the revolutionaries struck and the family was banished."

"So what's two highborn girls doing here alone? The Diaos were banished but they still have enough money to last several lifetimes."

"She says they were separated. Most likely in the chaos they got funnelled away and somehow ended up here in Sial. They're both valuable, and from what I know, the Duchess has probably been training and drilling them in espionage for years. Absolutely lethal, both of them."

"You're suggesting I recruit them."

"The older one, most definitely. The younger one... offer them a bargain they can't refuse. People will be out for them if they know who they are. Send the younger one to Lady Kuroki, maybe. I think they're acquainted. Kuroki and their aunt were very chummy. I've seen the older one land one of the Borquez boys on his ass in a fight."

Cadieux raised a brow. "Wouldn't your father have something to say about this?" Papa, who worked as Foreign Secretary, who had somehow agreed to let his heir work in the dangerous work of spying.

"His solution would be to send both of them to some obscure and unimportant boarding school in the middle of nowhere, or pay for them to be returned to the Duchess in their own nowhere. Wherever they are right now, anyways. No one knows. The Diaos have vanished clean off the map. Might as well make them useful while they're here. The Duchess would agree if she was here."

"She's terrifying," Laurence mused. "And are you sure the sister's only eight?" He himself was only thirteen. Marcus was one year older. They were both living a life not fit for someone of their years, but that little girl...

"She terrified all the children at every ball or meeting," he told him. "Your father met her once or twice. I think she recognised you because you look so much like him. And no doubt the Duchess has told her about you, Cadieux."

The two sisters emerged from the doorway, expressions unreadable. Cassalyn held two bags, Cirinique had one sack thrown over her back, and she was shivering. Laurence pulled off his coat and wrapped it around the little girl. Cirinique blinked and looked up, before giving the dark-haired devil a small nod of gratitude. Clearly she was unused to the kindness. Laurence flashed her one of his usual grins and she looked away, eyes landing on Cassalyn for reassurance. She rolled her eyes, taking a step forward. "Wonderful. Now whisk us away."

"Of course, my lady."

"I'm no lady," Cassalyn retorted. "We're distantly related to any lord and lady at best."

"I find it incredible that your great-aunt allowed the two of you out of her sight."

"As you might expect, being stripped of your life's work isn't the best for someone's mental state. My great-aunt was very much distracted. We don't know where our family went. It's why we haven't gone off to find them yet. Perhaps in a few months, rumours would reach our ears. That was our plan." That was cold practicality in her eyes. Marcus had no doubt that their plan would most probably work as long as they managed to stay out of trouble in the slums.

Instead, he told them,"Unfortunately, pimps or one of the gangs would most likely pick you off the streets before that. Or perhaps someone would kidnap you and ask for a ransom. Your family is still rich, no matter what. We have a better offer for you. You know what your great-aunt operates. I know she trained you. You could come work for us."

"Cirinique is eight."

"You know Lady Kuroki?" Cadieux interjected, raising an eyebrow. "We can send your little sister there."

All eyes turned to the small girl, who latched onto Cassalyn's arm. "I'm not leaving Cass."

Laurence let out a huff of exasperation. Cirinique's eyes turned to him, burning with fury and distrust. He held his hands up and took a step back, before awkwardly patting her on the head. Cass shrugged her sister off, turning her around so that she was facing her. She placed a hand on Ciri's cheek. "It's the safest choice. We don't even know if..."

How had they been separated? And why wouldn't they know their family's destination? An attack came to mind. The Diaos had many enemies. Any one of them might take this as an excellent opportunity to avenge their debts.

"I'm not leaving you," the girl repeated stubbornly. Cass let out a sigh and pulled her sister close. Marcus let admiration wash over him. Cassalyn was twelve. A highborn lady unused to taking care of herself, pampered and watched over all her life, but she had managed to haul herself and her little sister across the bloody ocean to another country. Managed to secure this little basement as a home, no matter how shabby.

"If we're done with the sentiments, perhaps we should go...?" Laurence asked awkwardly, jerking his thumb toward the direction of the staircase back up. Cadieux, obviously annoyed, started first. Everyone followed. Marcus would have a lot of answers to provide later. But for now...

He stole a glance behind him, at the two dark-haired ladies with grim, determined expressions. They'd be safe with the Service. And while Marcus wasn't friends or even really acquaintances with either girls, he somehow felt a breath of relief.

And so that very week, Cirinique Diao was sent off to Lady Kuroki's School for Girls. Lady Kuroki, who taught students the art of etiquette and elegance under the sun and the art of espionage in the moonlight. Ciri would do well there, they had all agreed. Cassalyn had opted to stay with the Service, to keep an ear out for information about her family— which only arrived almost two years later. Two years that Cass spent honing her skills to become the deadliest there was, before Cadieux started sending her off to the field. More than once, Marcus followed her. They travelled half the globe, almost always together in the next four years. Laurence joined them. Cadieux led them. Their mismatched family completed mission after mission.

Then he fucked up six years ago. And just like that, years of friendship and moonlight romance went down the drain. No one else said anything, but they were always kept apart. When Cass was in town, he was sent off. When Cass went to visit her family or worked on a mission, he was brought back to Arecia. If either noticed, neither complained. They became quiet strangers, estranged lovers.

Then she tumbled back into his life in all her glory, and Marcus's life turned around.