Riolta gets changed into something less comfortable

‘Are we to go now?’ said Riolta.

‘Absolutely. I have a carriage with a couple of my men waiting outside.’

‘Let me just go and get changed,’ said Riolta. ‘And I’ll be right out.’

‘Good idea,’ said Redmond, secretly very relieved that Riolta was not going to turn up to the court like a harlot. ‘Something a little more sober, perhaps. Or they may suspect your credentials.’

‘Actually, Redmond, this is my formal dress. I was going to go with something a little more sluttish. Do you want people to take notice of us and answer our questions, or ignore us?’

Redmond sighed as Riolta made her way up to her room.

Ten minutes later, when the archer descended the same stairs, he nearly blew his load at what she was wearing. She was perched on black platform sandals with heels at least six inches high, which served to accentuate her slender calves.

Her legs were clad in a what looked like tights, and what was certainly as skintight and figure-hugging, extending all the way up to the very tops of her thighs, but which, instead of being translucent, were made of a black, shiny material.

Around her waist Riolta was wearing what Redmond took at first to be a black belt, but which on closer inspection actually turned out to be her micro-dress, which barely covered even the top half of the cheeks of her peachy ass and made very plain the fact that she was wearing no panties whatsoever. When the material rode up as she stepped towards him, Redmond gulped audibly as the smooth lips of her shaved snatch was presented to him, the thin sliver of fabric flapping up and down with each step she took.

As usual, Riolta had a bow slung over her back and a quiver of arrows at her hip. A tight black band, about an inch thick, was all that went around her breasts, covering the diameter of her little nipples and no more, the rest of her cleavage left entirely bare. This meant that Riolta’s two spectacular globes were very nearly on full display, the firm, busty mounds sitting high on her chest, jutting out over her flat stomach in a way that made the young archer look very top-heavy indeed.

To complement the look, a black band went around her throat.

‘You don’t look very much like an officer of the watch,’ Redmond suggested.

‘Good, because there’s nowhere to pin my badge anyway,’ replied Riolta. ‘Shall we go?’

Outside the hotel stood a carriage with two officers waiting outside it. One of them was a very large, obviously well-muscled type with short cropped hair whose eyes narrowed suspiciously when Riolta appeared. The other was a more slender and youthful watchman with auburn hair and a handsome, if rather angular face.

‘This is Harold, the brains of the operation,’ said Redmond, indicating the larger man and smiling, obviously joking, ‘and this is undersergeant Hudds, the muscle.’ At this, he motioned to the slender man.

Riolta nodded to them and they got in the carriage. Harold grimaced, sitting across from Riolta, seemingly displeased with her in some way, while Hudds was attentive and polite to her.

‘Don’t worry about Dirty Harold,’ said Redmond to Riolta, ‘he just hasn’t had enough red meat today.’

‘Why do they call you Dirty Harold?’ Riolta asked the large watchman.

‘Because that’s what I get, miss. The dirty jobs.’

Redmond produced an envelope and showed it to Riolta. It was sealed with a wax imprint with a very distinctive mark that Riolta recognised.

‘This is a commission from Hugo Dacca himself that gives us authority over this case. It allows us to go anywhere, question anyone and do anything within reason to apprehend our suspect.’

‘Its empty, isn’t it,’ said Riolta.

‘Very good,’ said Redmond. He was impressed. There was obviously much more to the archer than met the eye, even if an awful lot did meet the eye. ‘Officially Dacco would never put his name to something like this. But if used carefully it could still be useful. Nobody would dare break the seal.’

‘I’m glad you joined our little expedition, miss,’ said Hudds.

‘And why is that?’ returned Riolta, teasing him by crossing and uncrossing her legs.

At this, Hudds flushed a deep crimson and mumbled something.

‘Alright you two,’ said Redmond, ‘don’t get engaged just yet. We’re here.’

At that point, the carriage drew up to the court.