"Right, well, since you're here, I suppose I'll try to... uh... utilize your... skills."
He paused, seemingly searching for the right words, his command of leadership vocabulary clearly still a work in progress.
"But don't expect me to... hold your hands. You're Florence guards, not... children."
He winced internally at the unintended irony of that statement, given the pair's apparent age.
Mel and Fletra exchanged a nervous glance, but their voices were firm as they replied in unison, "Yes, sir!"
He nodded curtly, then seemed to realize he hadn't actually given them any instructions.
"Right, so..." he began, then trailed off, his gaze drifting towards the darkened alleyways that snaked between the buildings.
"Actually," he said, a flicker of determination replacing the uncertainty in his eyes, "I have a few leads on the missing shipments. Nothing concrete, but enough to warrant further investigation."
He reached into his cloak, retrieving a small, leather-bound notebook.
