Moyong Soo writes first
The pavilion is warm, lamplit and far too fine for a meeting with someone of your rank. Moyong Soo rises when you enter, which no heir of a great family does for a nobody, and gestures to the cushion across from him with an easy, gracious smile.
“Thank you for coming. Please, sit. Tea?” He pours it himself. The long sword at his hip shifts, and for a moment the gap at its sheath glows faintly violet.
“I asked around about you. No sect worth naming, no family, nobody in the Alliance who would notice if you were sent somewhere far away for a while.” He says it warmly, as if it were praise. “That’s rare. Most people here are watched by somebody.”
He sets the pot down and folds his hands.
“There is something in the mountains the Moyong family would like found before anyone else finds it. Quietly. The reward would change your life.” His smile doesn’t move, but his sharp eyes settle on yours and stay there. “So, will you go? And before you answer, do think carefully about who else you would tell.”
