Luca
07-29-07, 10:18 PM
"I didn't hire the damned assassin, nor was I the one that assassinated him, so why in all the gods names am I the one they think should be held responsible?" Luca raged, reading over the death note once more.
"I couldn't say madam," Clive, her butler replied quietly, obviously quite used to her moods by now, "Perhaps you should consider a vacation?"
"That would imply that I am, in fact, somehow responsible," she snapped, "Would it not?"
Of course she was quite responsible. No, she had not hired the assassin, nor had she actually been aware of when or how the son of Count Balric of Lindenbridge would be killed. But she had given the name of a reputable boss and a suggestion for who might be a reliable cleaner to the Earl who wanted Lord Rhysin dead. She had also provided said cleaner with the known habits and routines of Lord Rhysin as well as where he would be on the day he died. She felt no remorse for giving this information - the boy (and that is what he was, no matter if he was nearly her age) was obnoxious, and had attempted to woo her numerous times, in addition to embarassing and humiliating half the nobles in Corone at one time or another.
"You would know best what your fellow nobles would assume, milady," Clive replied with a smirk as he turned to leave the room, knowing well enough that this would send Luca into yet another rage.
He paused at the door and turned to look at her with a knowing smile before she began throwing the porcelain at his head. She glared at him as he raised a hand as if to warn her to pause before launching her brandy snifter at him.
"I believe it might be prudent to hire some sort of protection if milady does not believe it wise to take a convenient holiday somewhere out of the country, perhaps in Fallien?" Clive advised her slowly.
Luca lowered the brandy snifter, and snatched the decanter from the table beside her, filling her glass and swirling the amber liquid in the crystal as she stared at the butler thoughtfully. Taking a sip, she considered what he had to say. A holiday was out of the question - it would most definitely implicate her in the scheme to have Rhys killed. There'd been more than enough rumors of late that she'd been involved in this or that scandal, she couldn't afford to leave town without cementing that gossip into more than just gossip.
"Protection..." she echoed, "See to it. Be sure that whoever you send to me for an interview isn't connected with the Syndicate - at least not directly."
Clive nodded and disappeared from the room, presumably to send a messenger out - even as late as it was - to find a suitable candidate or candidates for the newest opening on the Baroness' staff.
"Damn you Locrian," Luca said into her glass as she sat down in the plush velvet-covered arm chair that had been her mother's before her, long fingers running thoughtfully over the soft green fabric, "If you were home I could pass all of this off on you. These rumors all started after you went off on that damned job."
"I couldn't say madam," Clive, her butler replied quietly, obviously quite used to her moods by now, "Perhaps you should consider a vacation?"
"That would imply that I am, in fact, somehow responsible," she snapped, "Would it not?"
Of course she was quite responsible. No, she had not hired the assassin, nor had she actually been aware of when or how the son of Count Balric of Lindenbridge would be killed. But she had given the name of a reputable boss and a suggestion for who might be a reliable cleaner to the Earl who wanted Lord Rhysin dead. She had also provided said cleaner with the known habits and routines of Lord Rhysin as well as where he would be on the day he died. She felt no remorse for giving this information - the boy (and that is what he was, no matter if he was nearly her age) was obnoxious, and had attempted to woo her numerous times, in addition to embarassing and humiliating half the nobles in Corone at one time or another.
"You would know best what your fellow nobles would assume, milady," Clive replied with a smirk as he turned to leave the room, knowing well enough that this would send Luca into yet another rage.
He paused at the door and turned to look at her with a knowing smile before she began throwing the porcelain at his head. She glared at him as he raised a hand as if to warn her to pause before launching her brandy snifter at him.
"I believe it might be prudent to hire some sort of protection if milady does not believe it wise to take a convenient holiday somewhere out of the country, perhaps in Fallien?" Clive advised her slowly.
Luca lowered the brandy snifter, and snatched the decanter from the table beside her, filling her glass and swirling the amber liquid in the crystal as she stared at the butler thoughtfully. Taking a sip, she considered what he had to say. A holiday was out of the question - it would most definitely implicate her in the scheme to have Rhys killed. There'd been more than enough rumors of late that she'd been involved in this or that scandal, she couldn't afford to leave town without cementing that gossip into more than just gossip.
"Protection..." she echoed, "See to it. Be sure that whoever you send to me for an interview isn't connected with the Syndicate - at least not directly."
Clive nodded and disappeared from the room, presumably to send a messenger out - even as late as it was - to find a suitable candidate or candidates for the newest opening on the Baroness' staff.
"Damn you Locrian," Luca said into her glass as she sat down in the plush velvet-covered arm chair that had been her mother's before her, long fingers running thoughtfully over the soft green fabric, "If you were home I could pass all of this off on you. These rumors all started after you went off on that damned job."