Even amid the chaos and disorder, Twila managed to clean herself up enough to be presentable when she met with Throk – although it took much convincing to get his entourage to even entertain why she needed to see him. He’d been under heavy protection since Dorma went on her homicidal rampage.
The area of the underground city where Throk was staying survived the last violent tremor well and Twila was grateful for it – no doubt a testament to the fine and strong construction reserved for the structures designed to house the upper echelon of the Drule hierarchy. To Twila, it was one less thing to worry about, as surely having a building come down around oneself was not her idea of a party. She felt free enough to focus her mind on what she needed to do now. With Nerok out of the way and his spy now on her payroll things would surely start to look up. At least, this is what she chose to concentrate on. She gave herself the creeps if she considered the ambiance on Drule exuded much more than a rising panic and fear among its citizens…something darker was lurking in the heart of the planet as well as its people.
The guards outside Throk’s building let her pass without much trouble, and Twila decided to take the stairs up – she didn’t want to chance being in the elevator if another tremor hit regardless of the seeming sturdiness of the structure.
It was a credit to the shape she was in that she arrived timely and barely winded from the effort. The floor was oddly deserted, and Twila had to fight her nagging intuition once more. She would have expected a heavy guard presence on the floor. Nobody may have been visible, but that didn’t stop her from feeling as if many eyes were upon her.
When she reached the door to his loft, she didn’t even have to announce herself – it simply slid open, beckoning her inside.
Cautiously, she stepped inside and at first she didn’t see anyone much less Throk among all the fine furniture and art in the room. Movement caught her eye, as Throk slowly swiveled around in a chair on the far side of the room to reveal himself.
“Welcome, Twila,” he greeted her, his tone low and pleasant enough, though she sensed a hint of irritation in it.
Instinctively, she straightened her back and squared her shoulders in an effort to make her stride across the room appear as confident as possible. Being among the few female captains in the Drule forces, Twila learned early on not to show any fear or weakness. She never did feel comfortable around Throk, but she’d surely not let him know that if she could help it. She found the man creepy and it was no secret what a letch he was.
“Please sit,” he said when she approached, gesturing to a chair across from him. “Have some wine if you’d like.”