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Éliane’s appearance was not quite as bad as Arton’s morning mug, but it was clear that the redheaded Skaelan officer had spent some time awake during the night. Like the other man, she had some thoughts to mull over that kept her from sleep –but not the coffee!—and her usually, chippy self. Nonetheless, she rebounded quickly, and with a very hot mug of coffee, she attended the morning briefing hosted by the newly freed lord of Osprey. 

With her being so deeply involved at this point, she might as well see it through to the end. When it came to Valheimians lately, she was not feeling like being in a very charitable mood. She however leaned in at the mention of the blight, her suspicions seemingly being validated. 

She didn’t like deserts, but her uniform in its basic form was still suitable enough to weather the sun and sand, even if it wasn’t pleasant. 

She was committed. She nodded along at person that affirmed their hatred of their common foe—first, at Eve, then Rudolf. 

She did raise an eyebrow as Esben, as if to say perhaps to his joking words.

“I’ll make some extra coffee, then,” she simply replied, by way of answer.

Mirie Agustria of the Grand Bank,
Duchess of Caelin

Hathforth\\
@Estylwen

Mirie was the ‘second’ of the dukedoms to make her appearance, as she left her carriage. The duchess was in her gala best, as usual—this time, she was wearing a dark, shoulder less dress, fitting to her figure. Her seed, one of her best kept secrets, known only to a few, hung openly in its usual place, together with her large black ribbon that featured prominently in her accented black hair. The rich ducal cloak that she wore covered what would have otherwise been bare shoulders, and as she stepped out, she held in one hand an exquisitely crafted cane-sword, topped with a large prominent ruby-red gemstoned carved in the symbol of her crest. It was a fashion accessory that floated along if she released it, and a hidden weapon, too.

As something that she regularly carried, it was the sort of thing that eyes were immediately drawn to, while the real seed she kept also hid in plain sight. 

Alongside her was the Countess Minuette, a noble from Caelin and her personal handmaiden. Although she usually wore a different uniform, today Mirie’s plus-one wore a more conservative dress. Taking a brief moment to speak to their carriage driver, her noble servant took up a heavy but manageable gift box for the queen. 

As always, the treats from the province’s wealthiest noble were meant to always delight. Within the gilt-leathered box, nestled in velvet was a small selection of bottles of Caelin’s finest condiments, a rare treat that would cost nobles a small fortune. The greater gift, however, were the imports from abroad—a fine trinket from a kingdom impossibly far that acted as a small protective charm, and a bottle off fine Etrian whiskey, aged 40 years. Next to it was a new Caelin product—20-year aged Caelin whiskey, from the year that Mirie had ascended the dukedom. It had been a project of hers at the time, and rumors had it that the duchess’s own distilleries were hoping to make whiskey into not just another one of the island’s specialties after copying the technique from faraway Etria, as its new crown jewel. From the few nobles that had tried, it compared favorably to the famous Etrian example.

Mirie had her idiosyncrasies, but when she could, she kept on outwardly friendly terms with nearly everyone, no matter her private opinions. They were all potentially valued clients. With the wealth she had, warm gestures such as lavish gifts and minor favors paid dividends for Caelin, its merchants, and its people. This was naturally extended to the queen, too, given that the woman did seem to deal her a more even hand and court her favor and business despite her tyranny—money talked.  Of course, she favored certain people more than others—the Duke of Odenfield she had known since her childhood, compared to the queen, which had been nearly an unknown quantity until merely two years ago before making a right mess of provincial politics and prematurely ending a few friendships… and liaisons that she would have preferred to keep longer.

Spying the ‘duke’ greeting the queen as Mirie made her entrance with all the grace of a powerful duchess, she had to suppress an amused smile as the very example of that difference played out here. The small amusement she had between herself and Rhinecliff was already unfolding before her. Somewhat riskier than she usually operated, perhaps, but Mirie did enjoy her games of fun. Being in the know on this was one of the boons that she had from Rhinecliff partially divining her secret, although she doubted the man was able to confirm with certainty her very efficient manner of transportation was from a very valuable seed.

The duchess plucked a glass of Gold-touch Wine from a servant’s tray as she slowly approached. The usual gossip washed over her, but she returned greetings when given. She could see the duke’s pet fey had given an exquisite performance. And what a performance it was!

 But its end meant it was showtime for Mirie, too. 

She gave a commensurate greeting to the Wizard-Queen as she approached together with Minuette, who made her own before handing over her liege’s gift box to the queen’s waiting advisor. “Your majesty,” the duchess replied in a warm voice, “It is good to see you and the capital in its splendor once more, and I am looking forward to enjoying this fine evening.”

And indeed, she was. She truly did enjoy such galas and events. There was the noble politics, yes, but Mirie could still never turn down free food and drink. 

And the opportunity for a little bit of fun. 

Rhinecliff Estate\\
@Estylwen@ERode

Later…

In a certain Estate, a ring on an unbidden finger caught the glint of light as it approached a door with a certain crystal within. Observing, as it was consulted, the unexpected intrusion gave its user pause, but the Lady on the other end continued. A ruby glowed, and the crystal in the drawer responded.

The door opened, revealing the very familiar form of a certain duchess in her gala dress, her sparking Gold-touch Wine in hand as she raised an eyebrow at the white-haired boy that now invaded her fleeting sanctuary. 

“Oh, Viscount Skybound. What brings you to this part of the province, on this day?” The duchess of Caelin looked unperturbed. 

Unexpected as the encounter was for her and likely the boy, she was very good at bullshitting and recovering fast.

She winked.

“For a common reason, perhaps?”

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