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Mirie Agustria of the Grand Bank,
Duchess of Caelin

Hathforth\\
@Estylwen@Donut Look Now@Irradiant

Mirie, of course, knew that she was the lynchpin in the queen’s strategic planning. Without the monetary support of Caelin, and the sheer logistical strength of the merchant fleet that she influenced or outright controlled, the queen’s position would be weak—maybe even fatally weak. Privately, Mirie continued to prefer the old king and what he represented, but there was no reason not to be diplomatic to the queen and continue their relationship. Such was realpolitik. 

So unlike many of the other dukes and duchesses, she tended to avoid the subtle powerplays, the little aggressions, and the probes the others liked to enjoy. When she made her plays, it spoke through money and the economy, rather than shows in court. Gifted ones aside. Everybody liked a good gift after all.

She smiled magnanimously. “Caelin is always willing to fulfill requests for any order, for the right price.” The duchess might shy away from doublespeak, but she did still make use of it. More overt support for the queen was not out of the question.

Minuette had given the queen a quick greeting, but broke off to mingle in the party while Mirie stayed. Although she was her maid, she was still a countess by right and had her own share of connections to keep up. With a crystal studded ring on her finger, she also served a secondary purpose for Mirie by attending this gala.

Historically, the dukes of Caelin had laid claim to Athius, given its proximity to the island and its remarkable appearance and legends of riches beneath its depths. Mirie continued the tradition of claiming that part of sea for herself, but she also recognized the growing innovation coming out of Hathforth. It felt likely that there would be some solution to crack the mystery of that place in her lifetime, so she was willing to accept some level of compromise on it. 

“Indeed, your majesty,” she nodded. “You are welcome, as always, to resupply in the Grand Bank, although I would recommend sailing with some of my ships. Those waters can be treacherous without a proper guide.” She inclined her head at the queen’s suggestion. “Of course.” 

The duchess Bastille made her greeting then. The slightly older woman was an interesting character for Mirie—she had come to power in practically the same manner as herself, with some similar hobbies to boot. She found herself disagreeing with much of the politics of her impressively tall counterpart, however, and as Mirie saw how presented herself, she found her opinions reinforced. A gifted blade was practically as thinly veiled a threat as one could give, from a martially inclined duchess like her. 

She didn’t mention that as she greeted her counterpart, and then ‘Duke Rhinecliff’ as his pet shapeshifter made her return. “Ah, Duchess Bastille, and Duke Rhinecliff. You flatter us both. I’m glad you were finally able to make it to one of the queen’s little parties,” she smiled, knowing her role she was playing. Her eyes twinkled playfully, with one last mischievous complement before they were interrupted by the court jester. “You wear that mustache well.”  

That strange experience left her with a pearl necklace in her hand. Minuette came by then, and she passed off the gift onto her servant. “Alas, there is but room for one necklace around my neck,” she explained, before fitting the piece around the other woman’s neck. That produced what no doubt would be a gossip-inducing eyeroll from her close servant, but Mirie just gave her a clap on her shoulder as the countess found another acquaintance to catch up with.

While Altina engaged the Duke of Rockhold, Mirie greeted Duke WIllowsteel next as she raised her glass of wine to him. Of the dukes, he was the least important geopolitically, but she did respect his scrappiness and the economic ties their duchies had. 

“Duke Willowsteel! You and your wine are a sight for sore eyes,” she ribbed—but he was still a handsome man. 

---

Rhinecliff Estate\\
@Estylwen@ERode

Caught in the act, Mirie had wondered if the boy was going to simply heel turn from the door, but to his credit, he opened it knowing full well that she was inside. His presence here was still entirely unexpected, though. It was somewhat suspicious, in fact—even without the obvious cloak, which was strange to be wearing this deep inside the castle, she wasn’t aware the young viscount and her sister were that close with the Duke. 

The absence of Viscountess Asteria was strange, too. It was also Mirie’s understanding that the two didn’t go someplace without the other…

The duchess took a long, slow sip of her gold-touch wine as she considered the facts, even as the boy stammered at her appearance. 

“Ah, it is of no import,” she casually replied, but still searching for his angle—an angle she quickly found as he tried to get out of his uncomfortable situation. The treasury, was it? Even she wouldn’t be given a tour of his treasury, let alone the boy Viscount. Odd. 

By luck, or by the power of his seed, her thoughts didn’t turn to the more obvious conspiracy, even if her suspicions remained. Nonetheless, there was a play for the Duke’s finances that she didn’t have the full picture of, and the boy did claim that he was helping Rhinecliff, so…

“How serendipitous! As it happens, I have business with Laurent myself. Let us find him together.”

And that was how she dragged the Duke’s unwitting guest through his estate until they found the Viscount’s sister together with Rhinecliff in his courtyard garden. 

“Duke Rhinecliff, so this is where you were hiding, entertaining the young lady,” she exclaimed, still partially making it up as she went, but phrased her language in a very particular way. “The young viscount was looking for you in the treasury room, but I see you were just entertaining Viscountess Asteria.” At that, she gave a nod and a greeting to the young girl as well.

Mirie still wasn’t sure what was happening, given she was merely here to ferry her fellow duke, but at the very least it was going to be… interesting.

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.

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