Eweev's tales from Scylla (5)

Aryillia looked into her reflection in the mirror. Taking a tube of lipstick, she touched it to her lips, applying the color to her lips.

A short rap sounded through the room.

Standing up, she adjusted the green gown she wore before gliding over to the door. Pressing the button, she waited until it lid open revealing a young blond man, clutching a cap in his hand, wringing it nervously.

“Sorry to disturb you, Mistress Naefai,” he said, taking a moment to look into her eyes before diverting his gaze again. “There’s a man insisting on seeing you.”

Aryillia pursed her lips together. “Tell him I’m getting ready for a show.”

He nodded, his hands working the material of his hat. “He was told that,” he said. “He asked me to give you this, saying it was important he speak with you before the show.” He stopped worrying his hat, reaching into his pocket handing her a small envelope.

She took the envelope out of his hand, sliding her fingers along the seal. She unfolded the paper and read it.

Her eyes met the man’s. “Where is he?”

“Do you want me to bring him here, Mistress Naefai?”

She shook her head, placing the paper back inside of its envelope. “I need to see him and it would be faster if I went to him.”

He bowed his head, as he turned around, motioning for him to follow him.

Aryillia grabbed a cloak from the peg by the door, wrapping it around herself, pulling the hood up. She followed him down the busting hall. The back of the theater was a hectic place, especially during performance times. Everyone was rushing around changing costumes, rehearsing lines, putting on the last touches of make up.

He led her to the back door, opening it. She could see a lone figure waiting close by in the shadows. His head swiveled from side to side as he watched the area around him.

Aryillia could almost hear the rapid beating of his heart.

“Wait here.”

He glanced at the man, concern showing on his face. “Are you sure, Mistress?”

She gave him a slight nod, before stepping into the darkness, gliding over to the man.

He had stopped his constant inspection, seeing the cloaked woman gliding over to him. “Aryillia Naefai?” he whispered, his eyes darting behind her to the open door.

She pulled the hood of her cloak enough for him to see her face in the dim light before pulling it back into place, watching as he relaxed just a little.

“Please forgive me, Miss Naefai,” his voice was low. “I would not have disturbed you if it wasn’t important.”

“Get on with it” she said impatiently.

He nodded. “I heard you had contacts in the Rebellion.”

“I have little to do with Eweev Naefai” she stated coldly. She had been followed before by Imperial agents looking for her cousin.

“No, not her” he said, eyes wide with shock. “I had heard you sometimes deliver things to them.”

“And you have something of importance for them?”

He nodded, his hand reaching into his jacket pocket.

“I may be able to do that for you,” her eyes narrowed, “for a price.”

“Of course,” he stammered. “You would be taking a great risk to deliver this.” He withdrew his hand from his pocket handing her two chips.

Taking them she reached into her own pocket in the cloak, pulling out a datapad, inserting one of the chips inside. Her eyes widened, as she looked up at him.

“You must feel this is very valuable.”

He nodded. “Can you do it?”

“I’ll make sure it gets to the right person.” She lifted the right side of her skirt to reveal a small holster. She placed both disks into a small pouch, letting the skirt fall back to the ground. “I’ll leave after the performance tonight.”

She stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around him, signaling him about the other man with her eyes. She felt his arms slip around her. Her lips touched his in a brief kiss.

“Stay like this for a few minutes,” she whispered her lips close to his.

He gave her an almost imperceptible nod as he tilted his head slightly, his arms around her, pulling her tight against his body.

She gave him a warning look.

A mischievous smile flickered across his lips. “All for show, Miss Naefai,” he whispered against her lips. He dropped his arms freeing her from his embrace.

He pinched her rear end, as she started to walk away.

Aryillia turned around, giggling, her face set in a scowl. She turned and headed back towards the doorway.

“Everything ok, Mistress Naefai?” the young man asked.

“Just an old friend,” she told him, giving him a soft smile.

He shrugged letting the door close shut behind him.