The footsteps nearly caught Maleki by surprise as he savored the stress relief. But years of making sure you dont get jumped with your pants down gave him enough of a heads up that he did not jump when Aleksandra’s argumentative tone returned. At the end of her words, Maleki did not miss a beat, his voice an edge below shouting.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“You won’t send me anywhere, and I am not going anywhere until we’re done with this,”</span>Maleki said, having trouble keeping a straight face as he winked at Aleksandra from his spot on the floor. Slowly, as Aleksandra sped around the tent to collect her own clothing, Maleki simply sat up and watched for a time, his mind more focused on ensuring Tommen was retreating far enough. Once satisfied that Tommen was across their camp, Maleki spoke once more, his voice cleansed of both humor and bile.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“Figure there’s two things I gotta say now.”</span><br/><br/>As Maleki began to stand, giving Aleksandra the ability to see him in all his glory.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff"> “I dont see either of us being right about the argument that started all this,”</span>he said, wandering about and finding his pants first.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff"> “So in the future, maybe we should stay out of each other’s ways when it comes to business. Pleasure’s up to you.” </span>There was quite a bit of silence that followed, partially because Maleki was pulling on his pants and looking for the correct shirt that Aleksandra had peeled off of him. But mostly, there was heavy thought on his face as he contemplated his next words carefully.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“I am not going to the coast, or the west. I am crossing the Flats. I need to get home,” </span>Maleki said, before raising his voice to continue a charade his heart and mind were both far away from.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“That old bitch would have pointed you there eventually anyways.”</span><br/><br/>The pause was short before he began to explain himself.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“Some of the people who helped me and my father did not get taken down with us, and they deal on the other side of the Flats… back from the noble estates in Valkaren,”</span>he said, pulling the furless shirt over his form.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“I have some business that I’ve been putting off with them. If you happen to follow, then maybe they’ll help you out.” </span>Even while looking as if he was heading to the gallows, he was still not completely willing to accept or admit that he was going to be helping Aleksandra and by extension the Stalhammer royalty back into power. With that, Maleki picked up the repaired shirt and underhand pitched it to Aleksandra.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“Hold on to that,” </span>he said, voice quiet and somber.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“Giving it to me now will make Tommen wonder. Storka, who knows...”</span>