Easing Tensions

-Dalen Capital, Around Noon, 2 DSTR-

Kalena felt a bit annoyed at Lafayette's lackluster reaction to her favourite wine. Bottles of it were quite hard to come by in Dalen. The red Arizzo wine was from a vineyard that grew on a volcanic island chain and possessed the subtle flavours of coal, mixed with the aromas of mountain black cherries. Invigorating and majestic, the texture was soft, yet strong. She was curious to sample one of Kline's wines, perhaps the same kind the faeries had so much enjoyed, but not being a wine aficionado, Kline was ill-equipped to select an appropriate bottle to accompany their dinner, nor had offered. She leaned back on the divan and watched him where he silently stood at the window, broodingly sipping his goblet of ale.

When Lafayette departed to bathe, he finally spoke. “You have quite a house. How did you get it?” The question was direct and to the point, though he kept his eyes on the gardens outside.

Kalena frowned, her own goblet raised halfway to her mouth. It was very clear to her now that something more than just his impending confrontation with Tyreth was bothering him, and it had to do with her. Surely he was not one of those men who felt threatened by a successful woman? But no, she knew that was not it. The concern evident in his expression, and the tension she sensed in his posture was similar to how it had been when he was unwilling to accept the bandit attack as a random occurrence. He was correct then, just as he was correct now that something did not quite add up about her fabulous riches. Bound to professional secrecy, she bit into a juicy fig as she weighed just how much she could reveal to him. A little truth was in order, but truth cloaked in generalities.

“I bought it, of course,” Kalena answered nonchalantly, trying to set him at ease. “In my previous career I earned quite a lot of money, but I also made some astoundingly successful investments, and they placed me in a position of wealth I never believed possible. The Queen was someone who I had done previous work for, and we got on famously together she and I. Her Majesty tipped me off that this place would soon be up for grabs, as it were, and could be mine at a bargain price if I made an offer fast enough. So it was with both a little insider information, and the Queen's blessing. You of all people know how generous Her Majesty can be to those who win her favour. She can also be rather harsh to those who do her wrong, and will punish the offender in any way that suits her. I suspect such was the case with the previous owner – but I know little more beyond that.”

Not too much more, at any rate, Kalena thought, wickedly. Most in the capital thought her a glamourous socialite, but there were a few high-level nobles who had come to realize her true occupation, and disparagingly called her the Queen's pet assassin. Behind their ridicule was no doubt a genuine fear they might end up being someday one of her targets, and to them Kalena preferred not to let on that she was retired from the business, or at least mostly so. She enjoyed making them uneasy, but she did not wish for Kline to feel that way. As a soldier she supposed he did not like what he did not understand; on a battlefield ignorance could be deadly, and it was no less so navigating the machinations of power, politics and privilege in the cutthroat kingdom.

Kalena stood and casually extended her arms out in front of her. Instantly, without missing a beat, a slave smoothly came forward with scented water and a silk cloth, and began wiping away the sticky fig juice from her hands. “You look tense, Kline,” she observed sympathetically. “After you've taken off your armour and bathed, you really should have a massage. A couple of my serving girls are quite skilled. They will help you relax and collect yourself. You'll need to be in top form if you want to get to the bottom of this whole matter with Tyreth, especially given how he's also someone favoured by the Queen. That complicates things a bit, doesn't it?” With her hands clean, Kalena picked up her goblet again and sipped it. “I took the liberty of inviting a few guests to dinner who may have useful knowledge about the young Cartagan lad so that we can... develop some intelligence on him,” she finished, deliberately using the sort of military speak she imagined Kline would comfortably understand and respond to.

***

Down in the ornate marble bathhouse, the air humid with hot steam, the two slave women looked on with amusement at Lafayette's dramatic reaction to their arrival.

"Oh mon Dieu!" he shouted as his eyes snapped wide in shock, his heart almost jumping from his chest as he sucked the fragrant water down his throat. "Je n'ai pas besoin d'aide."

The pair appeared at a loss to understand his native language.

"Pardon, I said I do not need help," Lafayette clarified.

The slaves exchanged smiles. One had simply come to collect his dirty garments to launder them, and she proceeded to put them in a wicker basket, but the other woman had been seconds away from slipping off her serving shift to join him in the bath.

"Are you sure you don't need someone to wash your hair or back?" she asked, sounding as if the menial task were a pleasant novelty.

<Tag – Kline, Lafayette, and optionally, Lars, Eliza, Isai, Chiren, and Gularzob, or anybody else you might like to have received an invitation. >