end_break
The date was November 25th, 804. She was 28. She had just had her birthday, not that her colleagues knew when it was. From one of her 2 towers overlooking Felkner, Anisa Day observed. Her walk was over.
Her hands pressed against the cool stone of the windowsill. Faintly breezed. The day was warm. This was uncommon for late fall.
She had let down her hair. It blocked her vision, then fell back to her shoulders.
She sipped the Green Carmella on the plate in the cup on the sill.
She glanced at her watch. Twelve more seconds.
She placed the tea to its plate and closed her eyes. Another breeze. A breath in, out. Time to fit the lock.
One. 0.
It was a temporary office. Marble floor, brown walls traced with symmetric gold patterns, a stone desk and chair, a long, green rug. The desk was stacked with papers. Further adornment wasn’t necessary, though it would raise her morale. Note appended to mental list.
She floated from the sill and placed the cup and its plate on her desk. She floated down the carpet and to the door. It was pulled open just before she exited.
“Bourrienne. Shift 3. Acknowledge.”
The short man stepped away from the door, reached into a satchel, and pulled out a book and an inked quill. He looked to his own watch. “Acknowledged. Time is 14:30.”
“Carriage waiting out front?”
“Yes.” She started floating down the hall, towards spiral stairs. He followed. “Mage’s Guild thanks you for the donation of stonemason hours for Redward Tower. Reginald said, quote, ‘it’s a blessing to have such a generous scion’, unquote.”
Unnecessary impersonal pleasantries. “Pause,” said Anisa. “Append to agenda, ‘adorn temporary office.’ Acknowledge?”
The man scratched his beard with his notebook hand.
He scribbled onto his paper, then glanced at his watch. “Acknowledged. Time is 14:32.”
“That late already…”
“You’ll still arrive 9 minutes early.”
“Increase pace. Resume. Next.” She sped up. She floated down her spiral staircase. It was a ghastly sight, in that she appeared as a ghast.
Her dwarf slowly speedwalked behind. “Moderate collision in Blue Adder at 13:46. A driver was inebriated, collided with a livestock transport. The collidee has testified that 14 pigs have been released, the guard and some vanguardists are working to round them up.”
“Vanguardists? Why?” She knew why. They were an amorphous, sticky, self-described panacea.
“They were at a nearby teahouse, and felt compelled to help.” And they liked acquiring disposable income and using it on frivolities like tea. She did this, too, but her tea times were scheduled and predictable.
“Write them up for interference with guard activities. Arrange another meeting with Samantha to read the bylaws on enforcement of public order.”
“Samantha left for Northpoint yesterday, Your Highness.”
“Oh. Yes. Arrange a personal meeting with Weathers to discuss better management strategies. And cancel the upcoming tax roundtable.”
“Your Highness, the guards are aware of the laws, and specifically requested you consider amending it to allow them to help.”
“No.”
“I will arrange a meeting with Weathers. The collider is currently in custody.”
“Is he foreign, or otherwise important?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“The Guard doesn’t need us on this, then. Base charge of 500 pennies, I believe.”
“Correct, Your Highness.”
“Don’t trouble me with these trivial incidents, Bourrienne, their resolutions are algorithmic. Next.”
They exited the tower staircase into the manor proper. It was a straight path to the front door, to her carriage.
“Manor renovations are on track. Should be done in 12 days.”
“Excellent. Next.”
“The, uh, men started a pool on when they think Samantha will return.”
“Oh?”
“Vanguard Guild are in on it, too. They’re up to 20,000 pennies.”
She paused her movements, floating still. “Append for shift 4, determine legality of pool, determine necessary punishment. Acknowledge?”
Bourrienne quickly scribbled. “Acknowledged. Time is 14:35.”
“Do they expect her to return in fewer than 2 years?”
“I have the current statistics here…” he flipped pages in his book. “Mode is, uh, 0 days. Many are expecting her to reveal she never left.”
She stopped floating. Her legs briefly buckled under her own weight, before she levitated herself back up, legs supporting less weight, but feet on the ground. “I told them, I told them exactly what we were doing and why we were doing it, and they think I was lying?”
“Your Highness, more than two thirds of the bets for 0 days originated from outside the Felkner Guard.”
Vanguardists and mages, no doubt. “What is the next most popular option?”
“2 weeks. That she will get there, and immediately turn around.”
“I see.”
She’d known about the pool. She didn’t know how Bourrienne had the stats, unless he was personally running it, which she doubted he had the mind for numbers to do so.
If Samantha were to head back early, she probably wouldn’t be executed. Probably stripped naked and whipped, preferably in the rain. Not snow. It was a functional vessel, it simply needed its demons exorcised.
Though, Quincy had been, too…
She trusted Agarma enough to give him a chance on her.
“Princess?” questioned Bourrienne, unaccustomed to silence.
“Put 500 pennies on 2 years, anonymously.”
She entered her carriage and said hello to John and she sat and sat and sat.