Cold nipped at Mersem's ears in the absence of his mask. Beside him, Silke blew into her hands in a sad attempt to keep them warm. Rolling his eyes, Mersem yanked his scarf off and wrapped Silke's hands with it. By the looks of it, with Haeral and Chenric still out scouting, they're going to be here for a while.

Silke clicked her tongue but didn't tear off the scarf from her hands. Mersem rolled his eyes and tucked his arms closer to his chest, letting a shiver or two out. He kept his eyes on the people darting in and out of the road like a cat out to pounce on a mouse. Silk, satin, and mesh. Those were the current trend among the ladies and gentlemen trudging through the ankle-high layer of snow, followed around by small boys and girls dressed in thin coats and wet boots much like how Mersem and Silke were.

Mersem bit his lip, keeping the disdain from leaking into his mouth. Solon's socialites flocked to Zarasel and into the Imperial City inside the capital that there's no alley, no matter how dark, Mersem could turn to and not find some of them. Wooden wheels clacked along with the rhythmic patter of horse hooves as merchants flowed along with the traffic, muttering under their breaths about high tax rates and the awful smell of animal manure that they helped cultivate in the first place.

They were currently stowed by their friends on a random alley rimming a tavern whose smell could have rivaled their cabin after their father finished gutting the animal which would provide all their meat for the rest of the month. It's either that or wet leather. Both were repulsive, either way.

"What's taking those guys so long?" Mersem's breath crystallized in front of him as he spoke, the frost tickling his nose and turning his vision hazy. "They've been out forever. The next thing we know, they've already carried on with the plan and left us out here so they could have someone to blame if this goes south."

Silke snorted. "You should go write a play," she rolled her eyes. "Don't you have faith in your friends?"

Mersem rolled his eyes. "Yeah, define 'friends'," he made air-quotes with his fingers. "Friends don't lure other people's sisters to their deaths by suggesting a stupid and totally unsafe plan."

"Live a little, Mersem," she tightened her hold on his scarf as she edged closer to the alley's corner. The wall they've been leaning on since Haeral and Chenric went off their journey belonged to a winery whose grapevine-like smell wafting in the air helped battle the wet sock tavern's next to it. "We might be rich without bounds after this."

He didn't like anything about his sister's statement but he didn't dare speak anymore. It's useless trying to argue with Silke when she's already set her mind into something. That's just how she was and he wasn't going to try and change that. Not when she's set her mind into being a headache, too.

"You want some qiorfe?" Mersem jerked his chin towards the tavern. "Maybe they sell something over there."

Silke looked at him like he had just grown horns like a horrida. "Haeral said we should stay put."

He brushed particles of snow from his scalp. "Now you're listening to people?" he shook his head and blew a short gust of wind from his nose. "What's wrong with your head lately?"

A fist slammed into his arm and he almost fell sideways had he not caught his weight and braced the wall on time. His gaze landed on Silke, whose cheeks were bright red and eyes burning with anger, however petty. "Nothing's wrong with my head," she said. Why was she even angry? "We could actually die here if we're not careful."

Mersem almost wanted to laugh in her face but decided against it. "You should have got that sentiment two days ago before we left Falkmena," he leaned back against the wall and focused on keeping his shivers to himself. "It's a little too late for that, don't you think?"

Silke pouted but relented, filing next to him and leaning against his arm. Mersem raised an eyebrow but let her. They needed each other's warmth if they wanted to keep any of their fingers and toes by the end of the day. Where in the world were their friends?

After a few minutes...or about half an hour, the familiar blond mop of hair atop Haeral's head peeked from the corner. "Hey!" the boy said a little too brightly than what Mersem's mood could accommodate.

Mersem pushed past the boy and almost collided with Chenric who was a few steps away from Haeral. "Don't you both 'hey' me," he snapped, stalking into the wide, main street. "Where have you been?"

"Man, calm down," Haeral raised his hands and gestured to placate Mersem. "We're back in one piece. There's no need to get your coats in a twist."

"I'm not worried about you," Mersem said. "What took you so long?"

Chenric stepped behind Haeral. "The Palace security is tougher than we thought."

Mersem mussed his hair. "What do you expect?" his voice was a pitch higher than normal and was loud enough to startle a few horses lounging on the sidewalk piled high with shoveled snow. "It's a palace!"

"Quit being a drama queen, brother," Silke followed him into the berth of the alley giving way to the main street. She turned to the two boys and jerked her chin at them. "What do we need to expect when we get there?"

Haeral scratched his chin which has yet to develop a layer of stubble. "Guards. Lots of it," he said. "Chenric had the patrol schedules of the platoon by the gates all the way until the armory memorized. Outside that area, we don't have any idea."

"There's also an issue with certain parts of the floor according to a servant boy we pilfered from the kitchens," Chenric reported. "He told us to keep an eye on the floor."

Mersem arched an eyebrow. "What's on the floor?"

"Apparently, there's a hidden mechanism on the tiles that when triggered by someone who does not know it from the inside would alert the guards," Haeral said, dusting snow from his cap before the particles could soak through the cloth. "He told us to be wary of blue tiles."

"Blue..." Silke narrowed her eyes on the snow slowly gathering around her soles. "Any chances the traps could be hidden in normal tiles too?"

Haeral stuck his bottom lip out as he nodded. "Could be the case," he said. "But it's going to be a hassle for all the palace staff as well as the royal family to remember which normal-looking tiles are rigged," he chuckled lightly. "Imagine all the wrong signals the palace guards hae to endure if that's how they play things."

"You mean to say they haven't done that," Mersem said. "Makes sense. When do we go there?"

Chenric clapped Mersem in the back. "Are you interested already? We'll split the things we're able to carry out of there, remember?"

Mersem shrugged his friend's hand off his shoulder. "I just want to get it done as soon as possible," he kept an eye on the passing traffic of people and horses. "I don't like it here."

Then, he met his friends' eyes and jabbed a finger in their direction. "And don't forget I'm only here to keep Silke safe and not join you in your death escapade."

Haeral rolled his eyes and swept his blond hair off his large forehead. "Say that one more time and it might actually come true," he said.

Mersem could only stew in his disdain over this whole situation on the way back to the inn Chenric and Haeral got them by pulling some invisible strings with the keepers so they could have somewhere to lay in while waiting for the opportune time. Well, Mersem had been enjoying the jar of powdered qiorfe available for free in the inn so maybe this thing wasn't so bad.