Full chapter coming soon!
Corvo and Jessamine watched Daud as he fidgeted in his coat — not an unusual occurrence by itself. Although the Royal Spymaster’s customary robes had been altered to better suit Daud’s less elaborate style and to allow for the requisite freedom of movement, Daud avoided wearing them. Of course they weren’t suitable for patrols, anyhow, but the assassin would much rather he didn’t have to dress up for Court, either. Still, some days there was no getting around it — and getting out of it only at the end of the day, most often under Corvo and Jessamine’s gentle (and appreciative) supervision.
As it was, Daud’s obvious discomfort in this particular situation was only parallelled by his impressive glare, currently levelled at Anton Sokolov, who was more or less hiding behind his easel and canvas.
“I can’t believe I let you two talk me into this,” Daud muttered for the fifth time that morning alone. Jessamine nudged Corvo with her elbow, and he did his best not to grin. “And I don’t know what I did to deserve it, either.”
“Sitting for a portrait is hardly punishment,” Corvo said.
“Then how come there’s no painting of you anywhere around, Lord Protector?” Daud returned acerbically.
“I did make the suggestion after his appointment,” Sokolov interjected, recovering his bravery. “But was shot down by a very polite but shy young man.”
Corvo wasn’t sure anyone in the room appreciated the leer that accompanied Sokolov’s words. Before either of them could say anything, however, Sokolov continued, “And now, there’s going to be two of your handsome face, old Knife.”
Daud stilled, his eyes boring ahead as though he could pierce the canvas and stare Sokolov into silence. Or possibly into an early grave.
“Ah,” Sokolov said smugly, “you can try and glower at me all you want, but I have not forgotten the first time you stood for me like this.”
Corvo and Jessamine shared a curious glance.
“The first one?” Jessamine echoed.
Sokolov laughed. “Oh, he’s not told you?”
Daud gripped the back of the chair he was standing next to so hard the wood creaked.