---

At the fountain stood a man, one who would catch her stare as he seemed to linger there. He even shooed away the familiar visage of the youth that she had encountered while on her last bounty. One she would quirk a brow at as he departed with his pilfered wine, though she did nothing to halt him. An odd one, one she had to wonder where he had come from. However, it didn't take long for her gilded eyes to return to the one who had originally captured her focus. Be it a brief interruption in the mundane orchestra or otherwise, her lips would curl into the swagger of a deadly simper.

"Come here to just hang out by the fountain all day?" Perhaps she'd have found this alarming behavior if she hadn't already had several cups of the cherished wine. It would do nothing, however, to dissuade the way her eyes trailed over him, the soft features of his countenance to the equally tender inky curls that coiled about his face. Again, that cup was brought to her mouth, allowing the gentle sear of the drink to lapse across her tongue and down her throat.

The smirk hardly faded as she would allow her observation to end at his own stare. "Or do you need help coming up with a better way to waste the day?"

---

Countless faces passed through the door, eager to slip away from their hardships and relish this night of festivity, wine and food.  Importantly, the latter.  It was no secret - even to those under the queen's reign - that those in Vufrien were withering from the loss of their farming village.  So too was it no surprise that many of the street urchins came in droves to fill their bellies while they could.  The would-be assassin watched them pluck finger sandwiches from trays and crystal goblets from tables.  He watched as they filled each glass from the tainted fountain before tossing it back into their greedy gullets.  Naga felt some means of pitty, a twang of guilt for only he knew what fate had in store for them.

"Come here to just hang out by the fountain all day?"  He sought out the owner of the voice, the vibrant woman with ruby hair both long and straight.  The alluring, beguiling silhouette that fit snuggly into the skin-tight black of her dress.  Where others chose frills, this one wanted to stand out, it seemed.  Could she blame him for the way the raze of his eyes outlined her every feminine feature?  Each curve etched to memory.  "Or do you need help coming up with a better way to waste the day?"  Then he looked at her bright amber eyes and a slanted, dumbfounded smirk caught his lips.

"Was just waiting for something prettier to come lure me away."  Naga leaned back against the pillar that stood between the fountain and the ball room floor with his arms crossed over his chest.  "Got anything fun hiding in that pretty little head of yours?"

---

There were a great many signs that danger lurked here this eve, and get nearly every one of them lay ignored in favor of a bit of fun. She had received her fair amount of coin in regards to the dragon slain, but several of those glimmering pieces had instead found their way into Mahmeet's hands. The elderly medicine woman was well known to her and those she offered a brief blanket of safety to. While the elder had made her deal with the silver tongued devils, she could not deny that it was only thanks to that that her life had ultimately been spared by the dragon's wrath, let alone that she was fortunate enough to attend the night's festivities. The treatment was also the reason she so loved the seemingly endless flow of spirits from this very fountain.

In short, she was already nearing broke.

Drowning her sorrows was only part of her plans for the evening, however. Her main intention now was simply to find someone to spend the last of her free time with before she would soon return to her work. "Was just waiting for something prettier to come lure me away." she liked the way he spoke, the self assured confidence in the breadth of his lazy simper. It didn't quite match the sweeter contours of his features, yet another warning sign that she would develf brush off with another splash of wine. "Got anything fun hiding in that pretty little head of yours?"

Her smile only broadened at his inquiry, nearly purring aloud at the lascivious attention those soft, dark eyes doted upon her bodice, and she would shift her weight faintly, pressing the line of her hip against the silken confines of her gown. Her free hand would lift to her temple as his steve lifted to her countenance once again, "It's alright, you don't have to pretend to care about what I think." She would come closer, nearly enough to touch him, almost enough to be flush to his own frame, a fingertip tracing the collar of his shirt, gilded eyes following the path before once more ascending to his own stare. "Why don't we find a place more... private than the fountain, love? I'll see then if you're worth what's in my pretty head."

Her inviting grin would slowly turn, merely hoping he would accept her own invitation for the night.

---

"Why don't we find a place more... private."

It was a trap.  Even the way she touched the collar of his jacket was akin to the winding trail of a snake.  Every instinct that had kept him alive thus far screamed into the void that was his now lust-riddled brain.  He'd never been a particularly smart, rational man, much to the chagrin of his mother.  The same who wasn't shy in telling the world about her greatest disappointment who was too busy chasing skirts to take up the family business.  Women also didn't typically offer themselves to him so brazenly, if at all.  Then again, Naga wasn't entirely himself, either. 

His disguised face was softer and younger with gentle eyes and supple lips.  A face belonging to a young nineteen-something man who had barely crawled his way out of childhood.  This face held an innocent air very much unlike the seasoned murderer beneath.  The one that killed for coin.  The one that danced with death, courted it, invited it into his bed and kissed it in the morning.  The very same that would have this ballroom retching and writhing by the end of the night.  A heartless poisoner. 

Naga was quiet as he followed behind her like a dog with his tongue lolling out to the side, hearts throbbing in his little eyes as they watched the voluptuous curves barely hidden behind her outlandish dress.  It wasn't like the frills of lace and colourful silks out in the ballroom; it was much less modest leaving little to the imagination.  He couldn't wait to see how it looked on the floor.  Even better, how she looked on him.

When she disappeared into what appeared to be an empty room, he was hot on her heels and eager to close the wooden egress behind them giving them that sense of isolation.  Naga leaned against the door and let the disguise fall revealing the burgundy of his shaggy hair, the red of his eyes that were not shy in touching her all over.  His face was sharper now - still youthful, however - and skin paler. 

"If this face disappoints,"  He sighed while sheepishly running a hand through his unkempt tresses.  "I can put the other one back on." 

Naga reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a flask that he'd take a single shot of before offering it to her in turn.  "Care for a drink?"  The poisoned wine was strong on her breath and there'd be no fun had if she turned into a corpse during, would there? 

---

Once the door closed behind her, she turned, the simper upon her lips only growing as the facade he'd presented merely slipped away as well. Her golden eyes smoldered beneath the red of her vaguely drawn brows. Her glass of wine was pressed onto the surface of the table instead, this room's purpose lost upon her as she hadn't truly known where she lead him to begin with. There was a desk within, several shelves of various collectibles and books that offered presence to keep them from being naked. Her back would recline against the same furniture that hosted her drink, the flat of her palms residing against the smooth finish of its surface as well. She supposed in hindsight that she shouldn't have been so eager at the fountain so soon. She felt ill at ease, a vulnerability that wasn't common to settle itself upon her senses. Mahmeet would have scolded her, a plethora of 'I told you so's' loosed from her lips in response to this tale as she often stressed that she should stop drinking so much.

"If this face disappoints," he seemed boyish, even with this representation, the devilry of his enthralling appearance. The duality of his enchanting eyes. The way hers drug over him without abashment, clawing down the artistry of his frame before returning to where he sheepishly pressed a hand through his hair. "I can put the other one back on." She relaxed, if but just barely, the sharp lines of her smile never quite abandoning the cherry curve of her lips. "I wish you hadn't lost it at all." She took another drink of her wine, feeling the slight sting of disappointment running through her. "Ah well," she purred as she settled the once more empty glass on the table, resigning herself to an early end to the night. Especially with how dizzy she already felt.

"I guess it's better now before we got any...." her head tilted faintly, her stare once again scathing from head to toe, mischief in the gilded caress, "deeper." She would close the distance between them, taking his offered flask, despite her better instinct, and in the morning, she may have blamed it on the inebriation that rattled her thoughts, corrupting her reasoning. Either way, she needed to slink past him as he lay between she and the door. She would take a sip of the contents, trepidation only gracing her senses after it was pressed to her lips. Would it taste of copper? Metallic?

She would return the container to him, her arms crossing loosely over her chest as she met his gold and crimson stare. A low hum left her then, let down evident in the slight pout of her mouth. "Sorry, I don't deal with devils."