"Are you in charge here?"
"I'm in charge everywhere."
The serpent entwined around her fingers like divinely blessed beads. Her elbows rested rather uncouthly on the shining surface of the desk, mossy eyes transfixed on the scaley, intricate patterns encircling the length of the snake, coming to a sharp diamond-shaped formation upon the top of it's head. A miniscule, lace-like tongue flitted from it's mouth every few seconds, tasting the air curiously as Ashaia watched it with intrigue.
"Fascinating creatures," She began to say as though she had yet to notice that the fellow had taken a seat in the opposing chair. An appreciative smile reached her crimson lips as the snake coiled between her long, spindly fingers, "Often misunderstood. Shrouded by a stigma of danger. When in reality..." She motioned gracefully with her head and a second later, a young girl sprang forth to relieve her of the snake, "...they are charming, in their own way."
Ashaia leaned back in her chair, her eyes sweeping over the fellow with a flash of curiosity. The glow of the flames in the grate to their left seemingly sliced her face in half, leaving the side that was not cast in shadow to appear paler than usual, not to the point of suspecting illness but rather to assume that work now took priority and sleep came as a rare commodity. Black hair fell to her bosom, the loosened waves giving evidence that the tresses had at one point been securely pinned back at the nape of the neck.
"I care not to talk of the wretched things you find slithering out in the desolate wastes of the Lone-Lands," The man's voice was pompous, a fitting accompanient to the velvet finery adorning his slim figure, "And must we discuss in the presence of these...these others? This is a private matter that I-"
"They are not squandering little girls. Whatever you say to me now will only be repeated to them later. Of course, with the embarassing detail that you're already sweating under your ruff. How is it that I can assist you this eve, Lord Lachlan? And don't look so surprised, your wife and I have discussed your dearest insecurities over tea before now."
The fellow opened his mouth. Closed it again. And opened it once more, a tinge of dusky pink rising in the apples of his cheeks.
"I am here regarding a salon I shall be holding next week," He breezed on as though the point of his excessive perspiration had not been brought to light.
For a second there was silence, a moment for him to shoot a glance around at the two other women in the room, stood against the tapestries decorating the walls. They were younger than the first but all of them bore the same look of distaste, as though they had copied it from one single source. Ashaia's eyebrow quirked as she leaned forward again, refraining from perching her elbows on the desk this time. Instead she reached for parchment and ink, an extravagent raven's feather quill poised in her hand.
"Go on," She prompted him quietly, the tone silken and inquisitive. The man cleared his throat like he was about to relay a speech, rearranging his position upon the creaking chair.
"Well, of course I require protection," He explained, as if the purpose for his untimely visit was obvious, "A figure involved in such high-society will only settle for the best. That is why I have sort you out. The name of Madame Lafaye holds some weight amongst us lords and ladies of the highest calibre. You see, the opposing House of Lord Berencroft and his family are plotting to have me..." He hesitated for an adequate description, reducing to a nervous utterance of: "...to have me 'taken care of'. And my salon next week will be under particular threat!"
"Then cancel the salon," Ashaia replied in a bored yet simple fashion, glancing up from the swirling notes she had already written down, "I'm sure that folk with far too much money will find something alternative to satiate their boredom."
"I cannot simply 'cancel the salon'," He scoffed, "T'is an opportune time for my son to meet the most eligible young lady of Elmswood House. If they do not dance at my salon, they shan't be getting married!"
"Oh, to be young and 'in love'. Noblefolk truly are of a different breed, aren't they?" She rolled her eyes, waiting for no response to the words so effortlessly doused in sarcasm, "And why exactly is Lord Berencroft determined to have your head? The last I saw of him, I thought he had rather mellowed out in his twilight years."
"You know of him then? Do you have an inkling of what he might be planning? Your connections do stretch far and wide!" Lachlan suddenly pressed her with a swelling exclaimation of panic, yet Ashaia gave a rather non-commital hum, unaffected by the rise in volume.
"I can tell you his favourite position, darling, but he isn't one for much pillow talk. And that's the beside the point," She brushed it off conversationally, issuing several muted chuckles from the two women still dutifully standing against the wall, "What is it, that is making you so vulnerable to a man who I'm quite sure cannot tell the arse-end of a donkey from it's front?"
"I am an opposition to the House! My sons are rivals to his! If I, the patriarch, is to go down fighting, then my family will surely follow. My House would be no more! And I will not have the hardwood flooring of my foyer splattered in blood!" He took a subdued moment to catch his breath, reaching out to snatch the nearest sheaf of blank parchment and fan himself with it, "Well, that and...I have a boat that I've noticed he is rather keen on. Perhaps he sees need to want to have me killed and claim it for himself! A plausible theory, for she is a sea-worthy vessel indeed - a ship really. I purchased her from a dastardly drunk woman several months ago. I believe t'is called the Belladonna."
Ashaia halted in her writing once more, eyes alight with expanding interest, "You do?" She questioned slowly and at this, she set aside her quill and her elbows returned to the desk, templing her fingers. "A Bree-Lander with a ship. How peculiar. Say, where is it docked?"
"Hm? Oh! A port far, far away from here," He batted the question away carelessly, "The lives of myself and my family are what matters!
"Tell me, why are you not tasking your personal guard with this matter?" She proceeded unabashed, spying him over the tops of her fingernails and through the gloom of swirling dust, "They don't cost half as much."
"Perhaps not, but your..." He signaled theatrically around the office as a whole, "...your 'Ravens', or whatever you call them, are something of an...advanced guard, I suppose. If you could send a handful to stand watch at the salon, I'll be willing to pay you handsomely."
"Then you can place the first increment on the desk," Ashaia gestured at said surface, her arms coming to fold upon it as she observed. At first, he did not move to fumble in his pockets and thus she elaborated sweetly, "You said it yourself, my lord. I am the advanced guard. These girls will ensure that your family remain very much safe and sound and blissfully unaware that this entirely dreadful business ever occured. Your first payment, if you will."
She nodded down at the desk stubbornly, Lachlan could not resist against her much longer. He reached around into the handsomely embroidered satchel he had brought with him, producing from it a drawstring sack which jingled familiarly with coins. He set it on the desk where it sank slightly out of shape. Ashaia, however, did not move to collect it right away.
"I can begin preparations on assigning my most talented to attend your salon," The words came almost automatic at the sight of payment, "As for the protection of your...ship, that is an additional manner we can discuss at a later date," She gestured idly towards the door, "And I shall need you to leave the details of your address and the times of the event with Wilomena on your way out."
She raised her head after consulting her notes and said finally, "That's all."
Lachlan stared at her, his mouth opening in unspoken question once again. Then he rose from his seat, collected his satchel and swung it unto his shoulder.
"Do you require layouts of the grounds? A guest-list? Perhaps-"
"That is all," She cut in without feeling the need to peer at him anymore; a veil of long, dark hair dividing she from him.
Lachlan left the office as swiftly as his pointed buckled boots would allow, clutching his bag tightly and averting the watching eyes of the two other women as they filed out after him. Ashaia, on the other hand, was scribbling again and continued to do so for several minutes.
She paused for thought, tickling her chin with the end of the raven feather as her eyes gazed unseeingly into the fire.
"I don't need a boat, do I?" She asked to no one in particular and, given that no one answered, she shook her head as if to rid herself of the thought.
"My lady," A new voice sounded from the doorway. A particularly mousey-looking girl with a sheepish air around her. Yet as Ashaia's eyes came to land on her standing there, she straightened her posture as if on cue, "The person of interest...the one you asked for?"
Ashaia's lips became a very thin line.
"Oh yes?" She replied airily despite this, shuffling parchment pages upon her desk.
"Traces of him have been seen around the town though it appears we may have just missed him. It is looking as though he may very well have strayed much further than the town's walls," She reeled off, twisting her fingers awkwardly in front of her, "I do apologise."
"No matter, I suppose he is preoccupied," She mumured indifferently before clearing her throat, "However, if he is found. Then...shadow him and for goodness sake, don't tell anyone who you or I are. Ensure that he stays out of trouble." The initial expression on her face seemed to dissolve into something of a knowingly appreciative smile, "He has a tendency to fling himself blindly into the abyss, curses and all. As for Arindiis and Askelin, they are perfectly capable, of course, but I'd rather be informed that they are safe and secure also if you can trace them too. And continue to ensure that old members of the Dawn are protected where possible, naturally at a distance. Now go down to dinner and tell the others I'll be picking out a handful for a little...assignment."
The girl nodded politely and turned to leave before catching herself on the doorframe as she remembered something else.
"Oh! And Miss Brienne is here to see you. Little Arthur accompanies her."
