Time spent in the castle's clinic had been good for Anaisa - at least physically. She'd healed up fairly well from her wounds; though she had a lingering limp and her arm was still in a sling, the boy doctor had assured her it was only a few more days before she'd be back to her old self. Her time recuperating had not gone to waste - she'd been visited in the hospital by a tear-stricken Nettie, who had in turn connected her to Ghede and even a few of Dracerdis' crew scattered around Shaman. Ana wasn't sure she could trust all of them - her father had a tendency to collect only the most loyal sorts - but she'd been careful. She had difficulty hiding her emotions from those closest to her, but that didn't matter now. They would see her behavior, her state of being, and assume the best. Whom among them wasn't grieving, wasn't angry at the losses they'd experienced?

Anaisa was among the most quiet of her siblings, seemingly lacking the flashes of brilliance visible in each of her siblings at varying levels. She and Essy were muscle, the others were brain - or so it had always appeared. Now this played to her advantage. Of all the siblings, Dracerdis and his men would expect revolt from her least of all. She grinned, a fierce flash of white teeth against brown skin. She had every intention to exploit that ignorance, eventually. But the planning, the steps, had to be perfect. Her father had blown her up - along with her childhood home, along with many members of the crew who had been her family. What difference would it make to take a dagger to her throat, if he felt so threatened?

Ana put those thoughts from her mind, lifting her good hand to knock on the shop door. She'd done her research carefully before she made her selection, and now that it was made she had every intention of committing to it. Hopefully this Luke fellow was as discreet as he was talented; after all, Anaisa was taking quite a risk with what she was about to do, all for nostalgia's sake...