The girl beside him was young. Too young. At least she looked thirteen but Stare hoped, for the sake of all that was good, that she was older. Small elf ears poked between golden tresses of hair, and her features were fine, pretty and delicate. Large, hazel eyes gazed out and stared as the kenku stepped into the room, and the slender neck beneath had a visible lump firmly form in it.

“You …” her tiny lips whispered.

Suddenly she was savagely yanked. Letting out a cry as the leather leash that attached to her hands were tugged. Her hands were badly bound in further leather cuffs, and she wore the skimpiest outfit that tried to make the best out of her immature breasts and hips.

Stare's attention snapped over the grey haired and foul man who she knew had something to do with the merchant bank of Beinost; likely one of its main representatives. He had a history of hating her and despising Vitruvion, often arguing why he should have more power within the city and the Hollow. Now he was here to complain that his apartment was too small, presumably because he had a new kidnapped soul whose parents were likely very fearful for her safety.

“They said you were here, in his place,” Lord Gravelle spat, “Why he could not have placed a more reasonable representative to deal with matters in his name is my question?”

“Miss Stare - Lady Stare is Sir Elssmith's chosen steward, Lord Gravelle.”

“Eirik, thank you,” Stare looked at the guard from a single beady eye. Yes she might have no say on the fact he was going to remain by her side, in every room she walked into for foreseeable future, but she also needed to be stern. He did not have to speak to her.

Fortunately, the young human seemed to accept the thanks and what it meant with grace. Inclining his head he slid a step back. Stare smiled slightly before she drew her attention back to the Brother again, trying to ignore the way her heart cried out for the girl and made her want to do nothing less than run over and embrace her.

She took a steady breath in, and set herself to proper decorum. As simple as talking to any manager of Vitruvion's stores. As simple as holding the Council of the Brotherhood.

“Eirik speaks the truth,” she said slowly, trying to avoid the pleaful gaze of the girl. “Lord Vitruvion has made me his steward, in fact that was around a full year ago now. I believe you received note. Yesterday he had to take an unexpected trip, and had little time to make arrangements - thus, the easier solution was to leave me in charge of his affairs, as I already partly manage around half of them.” She folded her arms. “So? What is your issue that I can hear?”