Prologue: a triumvirate of tasks, Part 2
13 Gennaio 794
In Lady Calliope Cagliari's mansion (situated in a discreet if somewhat lowly rung of the Coronet district) there are many rooms. Where she chooses to entertain her guests is a good indicator of her mood, and this afternoon you are not in the Delightfully Teal Salon (only Kyra and Violetta have been permitted to cross the threshold of that sanctum sanctorum) but instead are taking tea in the Muted Pink Living Room.
(It could be worse - after the debacle at New Year that left Sasha's dress in tatters, a number of you endured several uncomfortable hours in the Ghastly Yellow Drawing Room being told by Lady Calliope that she was more disappointed than angry, and that you had not merely let her down, you'd let the House down and worst of all you'd let yourselves down.)
As one of the trusted footmen pours jasmine tea from the pot into the tiny china cups that Lady Calliope favours, and one of Lady Calliope's many long-suffering ladies in waiting circulates with a plate of warm pastries, the social niceties are observed as Lady Calliope takes time to ask after each of you with some polite (and possibly pointed) questions.
After half an hour or so of idle chit-chat, she places her cup back on its saucer, idly smooths out her dress, and gets to the point. "I have some concerns about the Bakers' Guild. As you know, they feel - correctly or not - that our recent rise was partially at their expense. Ill-feeling left unattended will fester, which is not what we want. Also, I don't - or shouldn't - need to tell you that our House depends more than most upon the goodwill of the citizens. If our word is no longer good currency with the guilds, then we must remedy that as swiftly as we can."
She gives you a bright smile, and signals for the footman to recirculate with a fresh pot of tea.
13 Gennaio, 794
Sasha doesn't really care for the pink decor. It reminds her of an old remedy Amelia used to give her when her bowels decided to go crazy. Still she actually sighs a breath of relief when they are invited into the Peppermint Palace as she refers to it in her own head rather than that dangerously cheerful chamber of dandelion colored doom that Calliope last called them into.
She still didn't think what happened was her fault. At least she is pretty certain it wasn't. Unfortunately, things are still a bit blurry in her memory. She really, honestly can't recall how she ended up in the prince's rose garden with the ambassador. She didn't even like the odious little man for Lady's sake. Was it her fault her knife could have nicked his manhood when he tried...shoving thoughts of the ball out of her mind, the ambassador was fine. He'd limp for a few weeks, but the other women of Ilrein were not denied his potential affections, unfortunately.
Sipping her tea, Sasha focuses her attention back on Calliope when the woman dispenses with the chit chat and gets down to why she'd brought them here. Sasha wasn't surprised about the Baker's Guild feeling a bit out of sorts. Whatever deal they'd had with Elanda was likely better than any being offered by the sellswords of Al-Mari who now controlled the Granary. An unfortunate situation for the Bakers to be sure, but at the time a few eggs needed to be broken. Even if money wasn't the issue, few people really liked change and Bastien had certainly caused a good deal of that in recent days.
"Any idea what might appease their wounded pride, my Lady?" Sasha says, uncertain at the moment where Bastien might be able to leverage a little bonus goodwill for the makers of the city bread.
13 Gennaio 794
Kyra takes a pastry, but does not eat it. The sight of the delicate, flaky dough baked to golden perfection and the smell of buttered mushrooms and herbs is tantalizing, but already her mother has been making cutting remarks about maintaining one's silhouette and sudden ill-fitting gowns. The food at the New Year's gala had been out of this world, and Kyra supposes she did overindulge a little bit.
Instead, she takes polite sips of the fragrant tea while the wheels of her mind are turning. Lady Calliope's choice of words snags her attention; often with people it was more about perception than reality. Even if the truth was that the Bakers' Guild had been slighted or shortchanged in some way, Kyra's first impulse is to try and reframe the situation to House Bastien's advantage without actually giving away anything of substance. If that didn't work, or was unlikely to work, they would need to figure out what was the bakers' greatest perceived loss: money, status, influence, something else? And conversely, what were their goals in the short term that house Bastien could assist with.
Lady Calliope's choice of other words - 'goodwill, our word' - unfortunately seem to indicate that Kyra's preferred approach of buttering them up with pretty words would be insufficient in this case. Some loss of trust has occurred, and that needs substantive action to remedy. As she waits for Lady Calliope to answer Sasha's question, she idly wonders if the grain smuggling her protégé had uncovered is anything that the guild would like addressed, or if it's their own doing.
13 Gennaio 794
Tea with Lady Calliope is a ritual that Violetta subjects herself to partakes of on a regular basis, especially when she is feeling less than sharp. To simply survive in the Jackal's presence requires her to be alert and on her best, so while it is exhausting it is also useful. Fortunately when the rest of the Hand are there they attract the majority of Lady Calliope's attention and Violetta can enjoy the tea (exquisite, as always), the pastries (passable but put in to warm too long) and the conversation (at least when Kyra talks and Elisabetta doesn't).
Once Calliope finally gets down to business she sets her tea cup down and focuses - this task seems more straightforward than Cesare's. At least it has a clear motivation and goal, and better yet Bastien should be seen to be doing this one. Sasha asks the pertinent question so Violetta keeps her own peace and starts considering what might be done to ease the Baker's hurt feelings.
They'll want one of their rivals taken down a rung or two I imagine. If they feel particularly vindictive they'll try and turn us against one of our stronger allies, but that provides leverage. This will work, as long as the Prince didn't set plans going in the opposite direction.
13 Gennaio, 794
Lady Calliope gives a nod at Sasha's question, although she doesn't address the Eye directly, preferring to pretend the query came from someone she would rather talk to. "As a matter of fact, I have. As you may or may not be aware, there is a quarrel between them and the Arborist Guild over a plot of land adjacent to the Arbor." She announces this in a tone which suggests she doesn't expect that you know anything of the sort. "The Baker's Guild wishes to get permission to use the site for their own purposes, while the Arborists are trying to expand the size of the Arbor to encompass the same land." She pauses, to allow you to join the dots for yourselves, before adding: "Given that the Arborists have greater political connections, I would expect their claim to prevail, all else being equal. If we tip the scales the other way, I would think that goes quite some way to ameliorating any displeasure that the Bakers may feel towards us."
Once she has answered any remaining questions you may have, she gives you a bright smile. "Well. Don't let me take up any more of your valuable time." She signals one of the footmen. "Do be a dear and show these guests out, would you?"
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13 Gennaio 794
"Well ladies, it seems that we have plenty to do." Violetta says coolly as the ladies take a short turn around Lady Calliope's exquisitely manicured gardens. "Kyra, Liz, you two head to the Arbor. We need a lot more information about this situation with the guild. What is the land like? What is it being used for now? Who actually owns it? Who will making the final decision on its use? We need information to apply the right kind of pressure. Try not to meet with the Guild yet, we don't want to promise something we can't deliver. I leave that to your discretion."
In her better moments Violetta can recognise her own flaws - she's relentlessly focused but it makes her peremptory and when that happens she sounds like she's dismissing the skills and abilities of the people around her. Thankfully the Hand have been together long enough to understand that it's nothing personal, but she tries to acknowledge their skills and capabilities when she can. It's the effort that counts, right?
"Luciana, Sasha, I need you two looking for more details about this situation with the Corvetto's. I'll pay a call on the Prince and try to get anything I can from Giovanni but that isn't likely to pay off. We have a Tomaso of Corvetto and an arbiter with the Bank named Luther. Find them first, perhaps we can arrange a favour and get what we want with a minimum of complexity."
The city thrives on complexity, on intrigue and schemes, half of which only exist in the minds of those concocting them but Violetta has found that the way to get things done is very rarely the most complex path. The simple one, relying on the basest of emotions and motives, is far more reliable.
"Dinner tonight, I think it's Luciana's turn to choose?" Of course it is, Violetta doesn't make mistakes with details like that. With people yes, but not with facts. "We can feedback then. If you need me before then I'll be in the Pocket." Where else does a hand go when it's at rest? It's a slightly silly nickname for their small house within Bastien's much larger complex but it serves its purpose well enough and there are half a dozen taverns or more with similar names so it has the virtue of anonymity too.
She returns his smile just slightly and departs. People can be so odd.
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Prologue: a triumvirate of tasks, Part 3
14 Gennaio 794
"I won't have it, you hear me? I won't."
Unlike her older brother, Lucretia was swift to move into a set of apartments in the Gilt following House Bastien's rise, although somewhat less quick to do the bothersome work of unpacking. She sits - slumps, really - on the only available chair, all the others being buried under piles of dresses, boxes of correspondence and other matters; and scowls at you.
Lucretia, it seems, has been slighted. An Al-Mari gentleman at the New Year's ball not only refused to ask her to dance but apparently (in Lucretia's hearing) referred to her as "tolerable enough, I suppose, but not sufficient to tempt me," an insult which Lucretia has had the better part of two weeks to chew on.
"Tolerable enough?! I'll give him tolerable enough! I'm a scion of the House, and we will not be treated that way! I want this Lord Dahzee to suffer, you hear me? I want him ruined, I want him shamed, I want his invitation to polite society withdrawn, and - at the last, when he is fallen and alone - I want him to know it was me."
She waves a hand at you, negligently. "Go. Make it happen. Teach people not to cross House Bastien."
14 Gennaio, 794
Sasha takes a bite of the apple slice she'd just cut with the short thin blade she usually kept tucked in her sleeve. Chewing the apple not only sated her hunger, since per usual, Lucretia hadn't bothered with the usual niceties such as actually offering something to eat when she asks, demands really, a meeting at midday. Expecting such a circumstance, Sasha was glad to have slipped the sweet red fruit from the kitchen on her way out since she had skipped breakfast that morning. So the apple kept her from suffering the embarrassment of a grumbling stomach. However, much more important for the current circumstance, it also kept her boredom and annoyance off her face.
Given the rather worrying 'situation' with the Corvetto and grumblings from the Baker's Guild, Lucretia's rather ridiculous tantrum over some petty, pompous Al-Mari noble held little importance in the garnetine's heart. The ball had been something of a disaster for everyone, best to accept the fact and move on. Besides, she'd already started putting a few tentative feelers out to try and sniff out what the Corvetto might be up to in places where Bastien could have some impact. Diverting time and energy to Lord whats-his-name, and picking a fight with the Al-Mari right now could disrupt those efforts. The house could afford a slight to the little princess, it couldn't afford to fumble a favor for the Corvetto. That would not be wise. Not wise and all, despite her own wishes to score a point or two against the Al-Mari and maybe even Alaric and Violetta's brother.
Taking another bite of apple, Sasha schools her features and simply nods her understanding of Lucretia's desires. Her eyes glance about the room wondering what her companions thought of the young woman's request. They land finally on Violetta. What the Key thought would be important. And Sasha couldn't help but wonder if she might eagerly grasp at Lucretia's annoyance for the chance to strike at her brother and his new foreign allies.
14th Gennaio, 794
"Of course, my lady." Violetta replies, all soothing tones and gentle smiles. This is a mood she can deal with, and has many a time. Odds are that Lucretia will forget all about this at some point, although something else interesting, important or scandalous will have to occur first. Until then she's liable to brood, so best to lower expectations.
"It will take some time to achieve such a wide ranging goal, my lady. Of course you understand how subtly these things must be done for the maximum impact..." She weaves a few more words, piles on a little more flattery and generally does her best to lower Lucretia's expectations as much as possible. "Really my lady, would the best way to deal with this poltroon be to throw a gala of your own? It would be the event of the season and Lord Dahzee not being to attend will be a brutal strike against him."
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Once they've escaped Lucretia's chambers Violetta turns to her companions, sharing a significant glance with Sasha.
"Much as I'd love to take an Al-Mari down a few pegs we have more urgent matters to deal with. You all know what to do so it's time to split up ladies and see what we can find. We meet at the Pocket and it's Luciana's choice for dinner tonight."
It was tempting to dismiss Lucretia's request (demand, really) as petty and unimportant, but Kyra knew that sometimes an apparently insignificant event could spin into unforeseen consequences. Sure, this Lord Dahzee may not be particularly well-known or well-connected, but who knows who else overheard that particular bit of snubbing and might decide to leverage it as a dig at House Bastien. Lucretia was, after all, the scion of the Prince, and her reputation was intrinsically tied with the reputation of the House.
Still, Kyra disagrees with the suggested approach. No, the best way to deal with this is to discredit Lord Dahzee's taste and make him infamous as an unreliable arbiter in that area. It would take a bit of digging and judicious rumour-spreading, which is far more achievable than what Lucretia asked - and Violetta is right that their other priorities outweigh this matter.
She accepts her assignment without comment, already thinking of what to wear for her visit to the Arbor. One advantage of being such a young Major House was that the Hand was not notorious yet. As such, she could affect the guise of a noblewoman of middling rank looking to cater her upcoming party. This had the advantage that it would prevent rumours spreading about House Bastien being seen in the area, which would a) tip the Bakers' Guild, and b) annoy House Elanda.
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15 Gennaio, 794
KYRA
The Arbor - like much of Ilrien - is a contradiction of itself: to step inside is to momentarily lose the bustle of the city in the calm of well-laid out orchards and meticulously-straight rows of vines, while at the same time becoming aware of the frenetic activity required to maintain that illusion of serenity. Even now, in the depths of winter with the trees bare and the vines dormant, workers scurry to and fro, earnestly discussing important matters of agriculture while beyond and above them, supervisors and landowners fret and strut on a network of viewing platforms which command the view which can be lost here at ground level.
Your arrival, as a minor noble stating her intent to arrange the catering for a party, breaks that orderly pattern in the same way as a lodestone cast among needles: you effortlessly draw to yourself a crowd of would-be helpers and aides and hangers-on; it takes you a while to sort through the dross to find the people you need. Finding yourself invited out of the chill wind into a welcoming tent, a brazier brings warmth and a selection of dried and candied fruits and sweet wine restores the soul and loosens the tongue - theirs more than yours, to be sure.
It takes time, of course; you can't go straight to your destination without potentially damaging your ruse, but you have time enough today to listen and talk and drop assurances you probably won't be keeping. But a question here, a chance remark there and an open ear lets you learn that the cause of strife between the Bakers and the Arborists concerns a noble estate of the late Lord Ambrose, who died recently leaving behind his only son. The new Lord Ambrose is a member of the Blue Devils, and there is little good to be said about him for now. He has accrued vast debts, and has little patience for the running of an estate - he therefore plans to sell it. Because the land is adjacent to the Abor, the Arborist Guild wishes to acquire it and demolish the buildings, thereby expanding their domain. The Baker's Guild, on the other hand, wants to use the land to build a vast kiln, bigger than any they currently have constructed. Such a monument to industry would not only employ hundreds in gainful labour, but would feed the city's growing population for years to come.
The Arborists have more money, and better connections to nobility - they feel sure that they can persuade the new Lord Ambrose to sell to them. Indeed, they seem to regard it as essentially a done deal.
15 Gennaio, 794
SASHA
It has been a relatively trivial matter (at least, for an Eye such as yourself) to identify Luther - a stony-faced, lean man with a shock of white hair who walks with a cane when he isn't in one of his gilded carriages. His official role at the Bank of Brass & Bone is that of financial strategist, which means that he rarely deals in anything so vulgar as actual money - he is a decision-maker, and those decisions can bring ruin or fortune according to his whims.
For all of that, you have observed that he is both professional and careful; in his role, anyone with obvious vices would long since have fallen prey to scandal. What you have noticed, however, is that he seems to compartmentalise his dealings into official and unofficial; the former being carried out within the vaulted auspices of the Bank, with the latter taking place at his home (which is frankly not much less opulent). It seems almost certain that whatever deal your Prince cooked up with Tommaso of House Corvetto, it would have taken place in the private confines of Luther's home.
15 Gennaio, 794
Returning to the Pocket after a long couple of days tracking one of the dullest residents in all of Ilrein, Sasha shares what she's discover with the rest of the Hand.
"As far as I can tell, Luther's clean. Or at least as clean as someone in his position can be. No drugs, no women...or men, no gambling, no booze. Nothing to make him spill the beans quick and easy." She says as she starts to peel an orange. "He is what you'd expect of a high level employee at the B and B. Stuffy, stodgy, and more importantly extremely careful." She pops a wedge of the juicy fruit into her mouth. "Still, contrary to what I'm certain is his own self impression no one is perfect and he is no exception. For he does have his own dealings outside of the Bank. Things he may or may not want his employers or others to know about. And those transactions, along with whatever more than meticulous records a man like that will keep, all happen at his home." Another wedge or orange disappears into her mouth.
"Now breaking into the Brass and Bone would be a fools errand. There's some story in the broadsheets about another poor sod who's lost their heads trying to break in there every so often. I for one, am not interested in joining those dubious ranks." She says. "But a private residence, that's much more manageable. Old Luther will have some security for sure, but he doesn't have the resources of the B and B. We should be able to work our way in. Find his papers and sneak a peek at what Tomaso and Constantin were cookin' up."
"That's useful information." Violetta agrees, steepling her fingers together. "Sasha, why don't you and Elisabetta check out the house and neighbourhood. If we're going to break in we need to do it at the optimum time and with minimal distractions. Plan our way in and our way out." Sasha is the expert and can handle the getting in, Lisa is there for her superb ability to get out of trouble - violently or otherwise.
"Kyra, this new Lord Ambrose - we need to know as much about him as we can. Running with the Blue Devils gives us a start, but we need to know where we can pressure him. I will talk to Calliope and see if we can access any funds. If we can purchase the land and then present it to the Baker's Guild that might be the simplest solution." Not much chance of that - Bastian doesn't have much ready cash these days - not after having made the great leap. Still, it's worth asking.
"Have I missed anything? Otherwise ladies let us assume that there will be a night's work in the near future and plan accordingly." With that Violetta nods sharply and takes a long drink of wine, signally the switch to pleasure rather than business. She even manages to hide the wince at its quality.
Kyra has brought a selection of candied fruits and spiced roasted nuts to share with the others - a small sample of what the Arbor had to offer to a prospective customer. It took great effort of willpower on her part to put the waxed paper bags on the table rather than secret them in her room to eat all by herself, and an even greater effort to not reach into the bags every ten seconds.
Instead, she distracts herself with the matter at hand. "That is what I was thinking as well. Besides, ideally we should do this in a way that the Bakers can trace back to us, but the Arborists cannot. It would not do to smooth one set of feathers only to ruffle another. Buying the land ourselves would be too obvious, but perhaps we can purchase some of the debts that Lord Ambrose has."
"That's useful information." Violetta agrees, steepling her fingers together. "Sasha, why don't you and Elisabetta check out the house and neighbourhood. If we're going to break in we need to do it at the optimum time and with minimal distractions. Plan our way in and our way out."
Elisabetta shrugs before giving Violetta a nod. She then tosses another handful of Kyra's treats into her mouth.
"I imagine that we want to do this as a group and shouldn't take advantage of any obvious opportunities that present themselves?" she questions with a playful grin. The Brava has never done well with all the careful planning that the business they engage in requires. It's always an effort to restrain herself and let more analytical minds plot a safer path then what she would attempt to carve with her wit and blade.
"I imagine that we want to do this as a group and shouldn't take advantage of any obvious opportunities that present themselves?" she questions with a playful grin. The Brava has never done well with all the careful planning that the business they engage in requires. It's always an effort to restrain herself and let more analytical minds plot a safer path then what she would attempt to carve with her wit and blade.
"If an opportunity falls into your lap then take it." Violetta replies, well aware that Lisa needs some hope of action or she'll get bored. "We all trust you. But try not to damage anyone. That always creates more questions than we want."
"Oh, I never turn down something that drops into my lap," she replies with a wink. "And I'll only hurt someone if they really deserve it." She considers for a moment before her grin widens. "Of if they ask me to."
17 Gennaio, 794
VIOLETTA
There is little enough to do in the winter months except shelter indoors (except for those souls unfortunate enough to have to work for a living), which makes those who were born in this month very socially desirable. After all, what could be more cheerful than a birthday soiree? Just the thing to ward against the chill and near-perpetual darkness (nobody who is anybody rises much before noon, after all).
Normally, perhaps not your scene, the maskerade and inane, drunken chit-chat; but this particular party (one of Lucretia's more distant cousins celebrating being 25 yet again) has the dubious honour of having in attendance the recent Lord Ambrose. Other than the newly-cut orphan's notch on his mask, and the rather stylish dash of black satin at his throat, he seems to be coping admirably with his grief. He is too busy socialising and drinking to notice you stalking him across the ballroom as he inevitably makes his way towards the gaming tables - where he meets that most dreadful fate that can befall a young nobleman: embarrassment. He is very politely turned away from the higher-stakes tables, informed that his debts are due. Seething, but politely so, he must content himself with the low-stakes games where people are wagering actual fiore rather than writing one another promissory notes.
It is clear that Lord Ambrose is in need of money, and that right soon. Perhaps if the Aborist Guild were to encounter some delay in their ability to pay him, he might accept the lower - but more immediate offer - from the Bakers?
The evening leaves you with much to ponder.