"Hey! Don't be so sarcastic, that's unattractive," Laelia huffed.

Giacinto rolled his eyes. "I'm not trying to be attractive, I'm trying to stop you from murder."

"I said I wouldn't kill him." She crossed her arms, sticking her bottom lip out with a pout that must have earned her hours of cooing admiration from her mother's visitors -- when she had been around four years old.

"I'm not trusting anything coming from your mother, that woman is hell in a pretty dress on bad days." Giacinto swirled the wine in the wooden cup in front of him, watching the red swirl in a tiny maelstrom. The wine glinted like fresh blood, still warm and sacred with fading life.

Was this what awaited him on this journey? A maelstrom of blood, drawing him in ... the sweet, thick blood would fill his nose and mouth with its taste of iron, cloud his vision crimson and dull his hearing until he'd sink...

Giacinto took one large swig, draining the entire cup. Out of sight, out of mind. It's that easy.

A small hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. "You ok?" Laelia shook him slightly, searching for answers to unasked questions in his eyes.

She has really blue eyes ... blue like the sea around Greek Islands. Livelier though, like a happily splashing fountain. He blinked. "Yeah, I'm good." He turned his head away, looking at the table instead. You big fool.

Laelia didn't say anything, but the way she quickly glanced at Alessandro and then back to Giacinto, mustering him worriedly, told the Greek enough.

Really? Giacinto scoffed. He could care for himself. What could they do that he couldn't? Nothing. He was the better fighter. He had more experience. He doubted that stiff policeman knew what to do with cutthroats other than send them to a cell. A duelist? Those were the worst. They thought they could actually fight. None of them would last in a real fight. But he had done well this evening, battling those guards... Well, maybe he did know how to fight. But Giacinto knew how to win.

And Laelia? As much as she was fierce, she was a fierce lapdog at best. Held in palaces and silken dresses, she'd never had to defend herself. Mother Contarini would strike anyone who'd threaten her.

Teams. Just a bunch of people slowing him down. Normally he'd just leave them behind. But now? He couldn't let Laelia get herself killed. How was he suppopsed to keep her safe and Alessandro from endangering them all with his bloody righteousness? He had seen the officer try and safe one of the guards from bleeding to death. Not only was that guard their enemy, but it had been obvious he'd never make it. Alessandro didn't know when to give up.

"So, the pulver," Alessandro cleared his throat.

Laelia clapped her hands. "Right. He'll slowly grow more and more tired. When he wakes back up he'll be just fine. Just a headache. He won't suspect a thing. It's not like he never drank until he passed out before."

Alessandro sighed. "Fine." He shook his head, clearly not happy with the decision. "Why did you bring such a specific poison anyways?"

"Oh, I brought many! You never know when you might need them. It's only pulverized versions though, so I can keep them in little bags. The glass vials would break too easily," Laelia's eyes caught fire with an exited gleam. "I managed to turn the liquid to pulver. Without it loosing its potency! I just had to--"

"I won't understand a word you'll say now so you might just not say it at all," Giacinto yawned.

"You're not the ... type for poison," Alessandro tilted his head.

"At least try asking the question, not stating it," Giacinto rolled his eyes, pouring himself more wine.

Laelia furrowed her eyebrows. "You don't have to be an old hag to make poisons!"

Giacinto snorted.

"Mother taught me since I was five! It's what women of high position can do to gain and keep power," she bobbed her head eagerly, reciting what her mother had told her over and over again. Then her forehead creased in thought. "Well, except sleeping with the right people, that is, or having a male heir." She chewed on her bottom lip. "But I don't want to do that," she quickly added.

"Damn right you won't," Giacinto muttered from his spot next to her.

The knowing look Alessandro shot him made Giacinto want to stab the officer. Look at something else, dimwit! Nothing interesting here.

Laelia ignored him. "Poison doesn't have to be deadly. There are many things you can do with it. It's an art. Did you know the ancient greek word for poison also means healing remedy?"

"Yeah, I am Greek," Giacinto said.

Laelia ignored him. Again. "You can always create something new! Or improve an old potion! But I don't really want to use them," she grinned bashfully, scratching her neck, "I just like the challenge."

"Then let's hurry, he'll be back soon. And we don't have all night," Alessandro, always the voice of reason -- or a killjoy, depending on who you asked.

Killjoy, definitely.

Laelia rummaged in a knapsack below the table. "That's not it. No, no... no." Random leather pouches appeared on the table one by one. "No ... no. This? No. Hah!" She sat up so quickly she hit her head on the edge of the table. "Ow!" He hand shot up to rub the back of her head. "Oops." She grinned sheepishly.

Giacinto shook his head, relaxing back into his chair. He had tensed up at her exclamation, hand shooting for his dagger. "Klutz. Be more careful."

"But I got it!" She held up a little bag triumphantly. She snatched Lorenzo's abandoned cup, squinted her eyes and delivered a pinch of mustard yellow pulver into the wine.

Giacinto leant forward. The pulver dissovled immediatley, sending foam bubbling up for a second before it faded back into treacherously calm red. He sniffed. He couldn't smell anything. Nothing would give it away.

Just in time.

"Missed me?" Lorenzo plopped back down next to Alessandro. His wide shirt was far more open than a while ago and his blonde curls were in a suspicious disarray. He handed Laelia a cup. "Do you know how hard it is to get apple juice in a tavern?"

"Do you know if anyone else knows of ... this?" Alessandro asked Lorenzo.

"That this is definitely not a trip to Laelia's friend in Verona?" Lorenzo turned serious for the first time this night, shaking his head. "Don't think so. Why?"

"We're kind of accused of high treason, Zo." Giacinto rolled his eyes.

"So this is what you're doing? Laelia didn't tell me anything. Why do you need her to escape Venice's territory?"

"They'll tell every tavern to look for two male travelers. Now we're three." Laelia took over, spinning the elaborate lie Giacinto had told her when he'd dropped through her window to alert her of their escape earlier this evening.

Lorenzo nodded slowly, still not entirely convinced. "If they get you--"

"They'll hang us for a crime we didn't commit," Giacinto finished the sentence with a frown.

"Which I don't want to happen, but dragging Laelia into this? I could come with you instead of her. If anything happens to her--"

"Nothing will happen to her. Two men traveling with a woman are less suspicious. No one expects a woman to do something this smart."

Laelia glared at Giacinto.

"I didn't say you're not smart. I just said people generally don't expect much from the demure wife."

"Which I'll pretend to be," she sighed, looking not too happy. "Alessandro will play my husband, we'll rent a room for two in an inn without Giacinto, this way we're even less suspicious. He'll follow later."

Giacinto wasn't too happy about this either.

Lorenzo frowned. "Lia, this is dangerous. You could--"

"You can't stop me."

"That's why I'm coming with you."

After a half hearted protest from Giacinto and Laelia and a reasonable argument from Alessandro as to why Lorenzo should come with them, they pretended to settle on the man accompanying them.

Lorenzo's laid back, flirtatious attitude turned out to be his downfall.

Laelia was too exited, shifting around on the bench and drumming a mad rhythm on the cup in front of her, chewing pouting lips and shooting a flickering gaze over to Lorenzo far too often.

Giacinto next to her dragged an irritated hand over his face, rolling his eyes with all the exasperation of a grandfather complaining about the troublesome youth. This girl will be the death of me.

Despite endless hours of lectures about power and poison, courts of schemes and shenanigans, the necessity of walled hearts and cold minds, the Lady Contarini had never managed to drill a pokerface on her giddy daughter's face.

Lorenzo caught her staring for the third time, raising an eyebrow with the same cockiness that pulled his lips into a lazy smirk.

Laelia snapped her eyes away so hastily Giacinto worried they'd turn all the way back into her skull.

"Careful, Lia, you shouldn't stare at your friends that way," Lorenzo leant back in his chair, a perfect blue peacock in royal blue silk and hints of emerald green embroidery. "I might just have to overthink our brother-sister relationship."

"Oh no, you won't," Giacinto immediately straightened up.

"Not my fault if she keeps looking at me like that," Lorenzo shrugged, grinning teasingly at the Greek.

Giacinto mirrored the grin with sharp teeth bared in a a warning snarl.

"Now you remind me of that creepy wolf skull in Antonio's study," Lorenzo said.

"Did you just call me creepy?"

"I did," Lorenzo laughed with his baby blue eyes twinkling with all the innocent provocation in the world.

The Greek rolled his eyes and downed his cup.

Lorenzo winked. "Not letting you off the hook though, Lia. Why do you look at me every five seconds?"

Laelia jumped in her seat, blinking quickly. "I'm not- I'm not looking at you."

"Not right now," the blond man blew an angelic curl out of his face. "Now you're looking everywhere but me. Suspicious, suspicious..."

Giacinto could feel Laelia's pleading eyes on him. The girl couldn't lie to prevent doomsday. Not that she wouldn't try. It always was a strangely pitiful yet hilarious sight. She'd bat her lashes and chew her lip, eyes racing like a mad rabbit jumping around. He sighed. "You're not as interesting as you like to tell yourself, Zo," Giacinto jumped in, the bored tone masterfully weaved around his words.

"She wasn't looking at you." Alessandro had been sitting in silence with his face of unmoved stone for ages now. He could have been a clothed statue, if it wasn't for attentive eyes weaving connections between them, doubtlessly analyzing every single word they spoke like a judge in court. Mustering evidence.

Giacinto didn't know whether that was just an old habit as an investigator, the obligatory suspicion settled deep in the bones of those that dealt with murderers, thieves and swindlers on a daily basis or if the blond simply didn't trust them at all. He did know that he didn't like it.

"She was," Lorenzo said.

"No," Alessandro said, "She was looking at your neck. You've got some lipstick there. She's just curious."

How does he even notice those things? Giacinto prided himself for his oberservance, but he hadn't seen the faint smear of red there.

Lorenzo's hand shot up, wiping at his neck. He had the decency to grin embarassedly. "Gone? Before Laelia asks how it got there and Cinto murders me."

"Call me that one more time and I will murder you anyways," Giacinto said.

"Not gone. How did you get that?" Laelia tilted her head.

That idiot.

Alessandro sighed, producing a silken handkerchief from his pocket. "Hold still." He leant over, turning Lorenzo's head away with one hand and wiped the stain away quickly. "Gone."

The three others were dead silent. Lorenzo was looking pointedly away, cheeks ablaze. Laelia frowned in confusion. She probably still pondered about how the lipstick had gotten there.

Giacinto clapped slowly. "Congrats, you made Lorenzo Morosini blush."

"I am not blushing!"

Alessandro opened his mouth, but was interupted by a dull 'thump'.

"Not anymore," Giacinto shrugged.

"Let's go!" Laelia jumped up, clapping her hands excitedly.

Lorenzo had slumped onto the table, passed out. He really shouldn't have Laelia's excitement to see whether her potion worked for her checking him out.