Belle took his hand and rose smoothly to her feet, putting an obvious shake in her tail as she snuggled up to him for their approach to the innkeeper.  Many eyes followed them,  the well-paid red maned doxy and her customer.<em>Perfect.</em>Her hand rested briefly on the counter eside the coins Ada had placed, and shen she pulled back, there were more coins.  "Your cut from my take."  She didn't take them upstairs, subtle nudge of her hip agains his guided him to the back, into a store room.  Casks and barrels mostly, lead him to a small door mounted in a bump-out from the exterior wall.  She paused and waved to the room.  "Casks stacked against both walls, a sturdy door, we'll be fine if we keep our voices down.  She smiled wryly, "The staff will expect us to make noise, listen for it.  Part of their payout, I suppose."<br/><br/>She opened the door, entered first with hands in plain sight, then shut and boldted it behind him.  The room was small, no real bed, just a good pallet on the floor.  A high small barred window letting in a bit of light and air, a small table with a candle and jug of wine.  And a trapdoor in one corner.  "Our way out, later tonight." She pointed to a neat pile in another corner.  "What gear I have with me.  Search it if you wish.  I do have weapons there."  Her heart was hammering, her mouth was dry... and her blood was singing.  It was on, no dancer had gear like that.  No denying what she was now.<br/><br/>The pile held traveling clothes, money two small cases in a backpack, a case of paints and creams and brushes, cosmetics of a sort.  A dancer might have those.  The other case...Tools.  Lockpicks, simple climbing gear.  Daggers with the special sheen of weapons that had drawn blood.  No dancer would have such as that.<br/><br/>She stepped onto the pallet, and said carefully.  "I will undress, my lord.  Slowly and carefully. This is not a tease, as you will see."  She pulled the simple dress over her head, revealing a pale, athletic body.  She wore nothing about her breasts, which were small, high and firm.  Her loins were covered by a pair of briefs - and she had a punch-dagger in a sheath high on the thigh of the leg she hadn't flashed in the common room.  She very carefuly unbuckled that and tossed it away from her.  She reached behind her head and undid her hair, shook it loose, and a small thin metal object fell out.  She caught it smoothly, and set it on the low table, a hooked instrument, a tool, not a weapon.  "A pick, m'lord."<br/><br/>She closed her eyes, got herself under control.  And it took effort, what she was about to say might get her killed.  Her eyes opened, and were serene.  "I can get us out of the town.  I can get you to those who will support your claim."  She knelt on the pallet, keeping her hands in plain sight.  "I am an agent of the Secret Police.  We are divided in loyalty, as are all institutions of the kingdom.  But.  My controller has informed me that -"<em>Oh Trickster Gods, let me be right this time</em>. She swallowed hard and started again.  " Supporters of the crowned King have a strong camp several days from here.  They will support your claim.  You were denied by Prince Matthew, they would support you for no other reason than that, But there are other reasons.  Your lands securely in the King's service, there is no denying the aid you could give the throne.  And deny such service and resources to the Traditionalists, even better."<br/><br/>And that was that.   She met his eyes directly and waited to live or die.