Indeed the mage, still unsuspecting of the plot against him, was warded. He had been ever since the incident at the morgue. There was at least one person skilled in the craft and it made him uneasy. One rarely saw him out of his brilliant white traveling cloak, which was embroidered with a great many symbols at all its edges, and still more between the layers of cloth that made it up. It was a princely gift from his old teacher. Tidus felt safe within its folds, and rightly so since the visible symbols were of a very powerful sort. He went about his daily ritual and reset all of his spells around his room.

Every morning he did this, and spent time creating small items for the house servants to set in their windows. Very nice smelling pouches of their favorite scents, which they placed in their windows. Yet unknown to the servants they contained items that not only were pleasant smelling but they would ward the opening they were placed in for about a weeks time, right around when the scent would wear off. It was a crafty solution, since he tried to set the wards himself originally and found himself stretched incredibly thin.

Even for Lady Cerise herself he created these scents to her most detailed specifications. It took quite a bit of convincing to get them past Cerise's lady but eventually he ended up simply telling her what it was. While it didn't prevent anyone from exiting the opening it most certainly would prevent anyone from entering it. He was convinced that the woman still didn't trust him and he had it in mind to give her a demonstration later but he had many more concerns at the moment.

After his daily ritual, he made it to the front door staring at it for a good long while. This particular portal had stumped him thus far and he would eventually have to ward it or guard it physically at this point. Cursing softly he went to find the house adviser to discuss some options. He entered the man's office and with a voice laden in frustration, "Donovan I've been bending my mind for, it seems like ages, but I can't figure it out. I don't think I can protect the front door, not without killing the person who passes through it or completely preventing all people from entering it! I know for certain there are others out there skilled in what I do about, but... to find them, the specific ones behind it, well it's nearly impossible. Oh, which reminds me I'll have something for you by the end of the week it'll keep you safe." Tidus flopped into one of the armchairs in the office, seeming to almost deflate as he sat there, very much frustrated at his inability to solve this problem and protect the house.

The house advisor was turned away from his desk with a large teapot firmly is his grasp when Tidus entered. “Well, good day there Tidus,” Donovan swung casually around, his face remarkably relaxed—a rare sight indeed given the trials and tribulations he had suffered lately; incidents which had seemed to drain the very life from the man.

Listening to Tidus and hearing the frustrations in his voice, Konvarc’h duly poured him a cup of tea and handed him the saucer. It carried a familiar aroma redolent of rosemary, cinnamon and chamomile. “Sounds like you need a cup of your own herbal remedy,” smiled the advisor. The very pot of tea had been mixed with Tidus’s recommended herbal ingredients, and it even tasted pretty good.

“It really works wonders.”

As the two settled, Donovan pondered the young wizard’s fears of warding the house, “How about a warning spell of some sort? If someone walks into the house, someone that we’re unsure about, it sets off an alarm bell, or something?”

Tidus nodded at the suggestion of tea, "Yes, tea sounds good." he poured himself a cup and sat down again letting the herbs do their work. He sighed deeply and nodded and even gave a little smirk. It seemed these days the adviser and mage had swapped roles, Donovan seemed to have been rejuvenated while Tidus' face began to show the signs of his heightened stress levels.

He sat there in silence while Donovan thought and upon hearing his reply he nodded, "That is a good idea, my friend, though it poses the same problem as the more effective spells. The incantations, ingredients, and the like are quite complex. You see the spell needs to see into the target's mind and extract their plans." he looked down and held the tea with both hands, "Though..." he quirked a brow as he began down a previously unexplored path, "... if I made it more vague, say only sense the intent to be dishonest or do harm instead of a specific or several specific events... perhaps that might be the key?" he nodded and looked a little less weighed down, "Thank you, Donovan, all I needed was a new perspective to get me going again."

He poured another cup, "Ah, doctors always make the worst patients... never know when to take their own advice." he shook his head at himself, "Speaking of advice, how are you and the lady artist doing?" he gave a bit of a smirk but then seemed a little sidetracked and rummaged through the many hidden pockets of his cloak.

"Bianca?" responded Donovan. "She has gone into Variens shopping. I doubt very much we'll see her for the rest of the day."

"Thank the monarchy I'm not with her."

The lord advisor gestured with a know-it-all arm, which relayed every action, as his other delicately held his cup, "She'll go into every shop, try on every little dainty piece and artefact of clothing, and likely conclude by buying nothing at all."

“Or maybe today she will,” he sipped from the cup. “I gave her some coin to play with.”

Donovan grew more serious then, however. “Do you think the house will be safe? You sense danger now, given the funeral turned up no concrete leads?”

At Donovan's final statement he looked down as someone with a bit more information on the subject as he pulled out a couple pouches and handed them to the advisor for his windows, "Oh I wouldn't say that... Lady Lokrien is something of an accomplished magician, witch, arcanist... what have you." Tidus took a deep breath, "I tell you she's something to do with all this. To what extent I don't know... and the opposition I received when trying to contact Harvold's spirit... It's unsettled me. Some one has an agenda, I just don't know who."

Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "I've made the house as safe as I am able short of putting a barrier about the entirety of the estate's boarder which not only would probably kill me but it would trap everyone already here and prevent everyone out there from coming in." He shook his head and sighed, "If I have anything to say about it I'll keep this house safe from the intangible and as much of the tangible as I can." He looked up from his tea with a look of deep and unwavering determination.

Donovan accepted the pouches, but sat still and listened to Tidus speak.

"And so we wait without knowing truly until an attack or assau—"

There was a sudden clobbering of the door, and a young hand swept in unbidden. Donovan's cup jumped from the saucer before he managed to catch it.

"Sir! Sorry sir, but it's . . . it's Rammas! He's . . . he's out on the lawn, he . . . he . . . "

"Speak, man!" Donovan tried to temper the sudden bluster of the boy.

"A crossbow bolt sir. He's . . . he's been shot!"

"What?!"

Rammas was a monk visiting from the small monastery of Kardenstone. Donovan looked to Tidus in sudden horror and rose up and out the door.

* * * * *

The wizard had been too easy to defeat, thought Dazrath. It couldn't have been him. The assassin, invisible and crouched atop the high wall of the Dilysnia estate, watched the dramatic scene unfold. There was much fear and shouting. Foot soldiers of the house were directed to find the culprit.

Dazrath's aim had been true, the bolt piercing the neck of the robed man. But Dazrath suspected he'd made a mistake. His flare spell died on his lips. He had expected the mage to possess some form of enchantment; a shield against such a physical attack. Hence his intent to fire off a subsequent magical attack and initiate full-out assault.

His spy had informed him the house wizard would be placing down wards, and the assassin knew that was as good a time to catch him as any other, while he was engrossed in magic for other means. While it was risky moving in during daylight and with so many witnesses, Dazrath had been confident though. He had come across the white-robed Rammas bent and supplicant before a wall as if showering it with magic.

It had been too good to be true.

Dazrath now skirted the wall as the royalist denizens below closed off exits and scouted the streets beyond the wall. The assassin swore as he realised there was an alcove in the far wall with a statue compressed within it. He shook his head: the dead ‘wizard’ had been praying, not showering magic.

It was not Zephir then.

The assassin pondered staying and trying to catch the wizard now, but with the state of high alert, there was every reason to get going. Dazrath jumped from the wall and darted silently past two soldiers. His ring of stealth remained on his finger until he was well into the network of Variens streets.

Now the house would be on full alert. Sunetra would not be pleased.

Tidus too jumped and the boy came blowing through the room all a fluster. The news about the monk, Rammas, struck him deeply as the two of them seemed to be of a kindred spirit, each very devoted to their own practice. But the occasional debate would be no more. So the mage pulled his hood up and went out of the house. Immediately he saw the white robed monk and his eyes scanned the surrounding area and judging from how the monk fell he followed a like course to generally where the assassin had been.

Though he was reasonably sure that the murderer was long gone he put up a few quick defenses, one of which blended him perfectly with his surroundings. It was shortly after that something prickled his senses. Some sort of magical buildup was here at one point. This made his heart sink a little and he turned having found out more than he had expected, and went back to the fallen monk.

Stepping up behind Donovan he spoke softly, "His murder was a mistake..." he had completely forgotten about his camouflaging spell being up still and continued and knelt lowering his hood, and deactivating his spell, and kneeling beside the monk, "I'll write to his monastery... " he trailed off muttering something that could have quite possibly been blaming himself. He looked back to the adviser with a clear look of guilt spread over his face.

A square-jawed guard dressed in smooth grey leather halted the two—advisor and wizard—at the door. "It is not safe outside gentlemen."

The man extended a gloved hand outward to try and deter movement. Tidus simply swept on past the guard however; out into the courtyard and gardens. Donovan was admittedly reluctant to follow, finding the possibility of a lurking assassin a frightening prospect. Doubly so, indeed, when the competent wizard winked from view.

"How did it happen?" he asked the guard, subconsciously caressing his earring. It was wrought in the shape of wolf’s head, an old family silver heirloom he had taken a shine to.

"It appears Rammas was praying and hit from behind by a crossbow bolt, sir. The attacker must have been atop the west curtain of the wall, and then jumped down after pulling the trigger."

Donovan cursed and swiped his fist in dismay, “Damnation.” Shaking his head, he peered out into the gardens, witnessing little save the throng of battle-attired house guards. "It has to have been an assassination attempt on Tidus."

"The wizard, sir?"

"Yes. But the assassin got the wrong man."

The advisor stepped on past the guard with a wordless nod. On the gravel forepath, Donovan cast his eyes around for evidence of the attack, trying to put it together, when Tidus's voice came from his rear. The advisor turned around but couldn't locate the wizard. "Tidus?"

"Oh!"

The body of Rammas was clear to see.

Tidus appeared, knelt beside the deceased monk. To his horror, Donovan could see the crossbow bolt jutting out from the neck. Blood covered the ground and desecrated the monk’s otherwise flawless white robes. Looking up and away, a cluster of guards had also convened around the body.

“We cannot find the assassin sir,” one spoke to Tidus.

Donovan could see the guilt in his friend’s eyes, hear it in his voice.

“We are in perilous times,” Donovan could only breathe

Tidus took a deep an calming breath, "Call for the inspector and the mortician." He stood and folded his arms, "It appears that I have caught the attention of some talented and powerful people. Make sure that no one, not a soul dresses in this fashion. If things keep up like this then I may just have to leave the house until things are settled. I don't want anyone else hurt on my account." The more he thought about it the more it seemed to make sense, "I think that my attempting to verify Harvold's identity has opened some doors, doors that are best left shut. I told you that I felt resistance in doing so. I just can't figure out why... or who. The one who fought me was skilled but not terribly powerful. But the assassin today... he was both, and I believe trained to kill someone with training in the arts. So it appears I am going to have to delve into a more unsavory branch of skill and crowd." Leaving the body lay where it was he went for the house.

Donovan Konvarc'h: "Bianca?" responded Donovan to Tidus, the two sat in his office. "She has gone into Variens shopping. I doubt very much we'll see her for the rest of the day."

"Thank the monarchy I'm not with her."

After a discussion between the two, he spoke, "And so we wait without knowing truly until an attack or assau—" There was a sudden clobbering of the door, and a young hand swept in unbidden. Donovan's cup jumped from the saucer before he managed to catch it.

Donovan Konvarc'h: "Sir! Sorry sir, but it's . . . it's Rammas! He's . . . he's out on the lawn, he . . . he . . . "

"Speak, man!" Donovan tried to temper the sudden bluster of the boy.

"A crossbow bolt sir. He's . . . he's been shot!"

"What?!"

Rammas was a monk visiting from the small monastery of Kardenstone. Donovan looked to Tidus in sudden horror and rose up and out the door.

* * * * *

The two, Donovan and Tidus eventually made it outside. The body of Rammas was clear to see. Tidus, who had cast a spell of invisibility, reappeared then, the wizard knelt beside the deceased monk. To his horror, Donovan could see the crossbow bolt jutting out from the neck. Blood covered the ground and desecrated the monk’s otherwise flawless white robes. Looking up and away, a cluster of guards had also convened around the body.

“We cannot find the assassin sir,” one spoke to Tidus. Donovan could see the guilt in his friend’s eyes.

“We are in perilous times,” Donovan could only breathe.

Bianca De'Amionette Bianca cantered into town upon the white as snow steed she had begun to favor in the House's stable. Variens was lively at this time of day, laughter of children and the shouts of merchants echoed into the oh so blue skies. Sweat was upon her brow, the heat of the summer day taking it's toll during her travel in. Strands of hair were loose from their lengthy braid, Bianca gently swung her head to allow the tassel of hair to fall over her right shoulder, allowing a breeze to kiss the back of her neck. Into the regularly chosen stable Bianca went, a slender teenage boy running up to assist her.

"Hello Miss Bianca!" greeted the boy with his goofy smile.

"Hello Amon, how are you?" as routine, her hand went down, the boy grasping it, assisting Bianca down from her horse.

"As well as can be, you in town to do some shopping, Miss?" she responded with a nod and her radiant smile. A pouch of coins were handed to the stable boy, Bianca giving a curtsy as she exited onto the busy streets.


Donovan Konvarc'h: *There was fear and shouting in the main garden area. Foot soldiers of the house were in flight, directed to find the assassin. Dazrath, the killer, hidden above, watched her snow white horse trot out, the woman oblivious, but ignored it. Instead he pondered the assassination of his mark. His aim had been true, the bolt piercing the neck of the white robed man. But Dazrath knew he'd made a mistake. It was not the wizard. This white robed form he had assassinated had been praying, not casting wards. It was not Tidus Zephir.*

*Dazrath skirted the wall as the royalist denizens below closed off exits and scouted the streets beyond the wall. The assassin pondered staying and trying to catch the wizard now, but with the state of high alert, there was every reason to get going. Dazrath jumped from the wall and darted silently past two soldiers. His ring of stealth remained on his finger until he was well into the network of Variens streets. Sunetra would not be pleased.*

*Tidus took a deep an calming breath, "Call for the inspector and the mortician." He stood and folded his arms, "It appears that I have caught the attention of some talented and powerful people."

Donovan swallowed hard and turned away from the body.*

Bianca De'Amionette A tiny parchment of paper was tugged from the isolation of a pocket in her skirts, her neat scripter scribbled in a list of items needed at the House. Bianca weaved through the mass of Variens people, grey green eyes reading over the signs of shops and stands. Emeralds skirts danced around her lips, curvacious hips lazily swaying as she walked steadily. From shop to shop she went, her coin bag getting lighter, and her item bag getting heavier. She purchased paints, brushes, ink, herbs, ribbons for her hair, and many other different things. Bianca saw the shadows of the sun changing, time was passing into hours - she passed a brothel, her stomach rumbling in hunger.

"A bite to eat would not hurt!" thought the young woman to herself, adjusting her grip on her bag and walking through the entry way. The smell of ale and meat came to her nostrils, her stomach rumbling more - heads turned, men admiring the beauty as she made her way into the shadowed brothel. A servant quickly came to her aid, before she even had a chance to sit. "An ale please, and some stew and bread, please." rogue came to the servant mans cheeks as he nodded and scurried away. Sitting down felt pleasant, Bianca easing and relaxing her weight into the hard, wooden chair.

Donovan Konvarc'h: *Dazrath began wandering the streets, his ring of stealth taken off, his form visible once again. The young assassin was in a bit of a quandary, to be honest. Sunetra indeed would not be pleased. His failure now meant that Tidus would be aware of an attack. House Dilysnia would be on increased guard. Dazrath was almost tempted to return to the house and try again. It was either that or return to the dark, beautiful, unforgiving Sunetra.*

*A strange thing happened then, though. Dazrath happened on that unmistakable snow white horse he had seen earlier. Maybe he could gain some information from the woman who rode atop it? She must be someone special if she rode such a magnificent horse. And so, the young assassin went about his business trying to locate the woman. It wasn't too hard: she was in the vicinity and shopping. He followed her closely. By the amounts of coin she was spending, he realised she must be high in favour indeed.*

*And so the assassin followed her, until she entered, of all things, a brothel. Dazrath approached and was immediately met by whores. He brushed them away, "A good drink I need first." The man followed Bianca within, ordered himself a drink—a tankard of beer—and sat at a table close-by.*

Bianca De'Amionette She probably looked weathered from her travel into town, her dainty fingers removing the emerald ribbon from the end of her braid, hands combing through the lengthy midnight tendrils. A goblet of ale was placed before her, Bianca thanking it's carrier, hands forgetting the duty of combing and relocated to the cool surface of her cup. The foam of the ale tickled her upper lip as she took a long, long gulp - rather refreshing it was! A napkin dapped away the foam from her lip, goblet set down by her stew and bread. She had just recently began drinking ale, she had seen the men around the House enjoying it, so she had tried it herself. Her father used to enjoy the beverage, too, Bianca saying a prayer to herself as she thought of her deceased loved one.

Breaking her bread and dipping into the stew, she began to
eat, her strength renewing. This was nice, some time from the House and the troubles that had been brewing up amongst it. Donovan had been stressed as of late, Bianca working her best to always sooth him into calm. "Maybe I'll buy him some new whiskey" pondered Bianca, eyes sliding over the shelves behind the brothels bar.

Donovan Konvarc'h: *The young assassin was clad in black cloth and grey leathers, and would make for a handsome, fit young fighter. He held a seasoned gleam in his blue eyes. His movements were assured, his voice and gait confident. Watching Bianca, he realised she was a young, fit beauty—many men looked at her, trying to capture her attention. His thoughts were never sullied to matters of trivial lust, however. Practicalities took priority.*

*Unfortunately, Dazrath himself held a score of scattered gazes from women who would wantonly delve into his pants. It may prove to be a pain, he realised. As Bianca was served her stew, and set upon it carefully, the assassin vacated his seat and moved to her table. "You don't mind," he grinned, opening and closing his eyes slowly. "I find you . . .utterly captivating." He purred the words with a boyish charm. It was all a ruse on his part to get near her, to get her talking.*

Bianca De'Amionette Brows raised as she heard the scraping of the young mans chair against the floor, her gaze not giving him attention until after he spoke to her. Regardless to the seductive purr of his words, it didn't hold any grip on Bianca, for she was utterly devoted to her Donovan. Grey-green eyes glanced at his face, "Thank you for the compliment, kind sir." and right back to eating she went, eyes lowering to the table. She was used to men gawking at her like she was nothing more than a prize winning mare, but they didn't look at her like Donovan did, he looked at her with love and respect.

Bianca was in love. She acted as if the man had not even sat at the table with her, working on finishing her meal, taking another gulp of her cold ale.

Donovan Konvarc'h: *Dazrath grinned still. Had she just rebuffed him? Laughter echoed in his mind. She was wary and well to be cautious. His eyes swept her delicate face and raven hair, mimicking a crestfallen look. "I apologise," his grin faltered. "I know who you are," he added, now sitting at the table without her consent. "You are from House Dilysnia, am I right?"*

Bianca De'Amionette His words triggered her attention, but no, she didn't look up. "Keep eating, Bianca, do not look at him" she told herself, taking a last spoon full of her stew, and the last, long gulp of her ale, emptying it of all it's contents. It disturbed her that this man knew she was from the House, she did not like that fact, this man was a stranger, and in these times of strife she had to be careful of whom she spoke to. Bianca kept those deep pools of green gray downward, looking at her skirts, hand fumbling through her pockets for her pouch of coins. Click click went the money as she left her payment for the meal and ale upon the table. Her bosom lifted as she took a slow breath in, and then exhaled, her supple breasts pressing against the confinement of her garments.

"Just get up and leave, Bianca, just leave!" without looking at the man, her backside pushed the chair back so she could stand. "That, kind sir, is none of your business. If you have any business to speak of involving the house Dilsynia, I should advise you to go there yourself and speak with those who run it. Now good day, kind sir." And quickly she lifted her bag and turned to go.


Donovan Konvarc'h: *Business at House Dilysnia . . . to return there and discuss mattes would be . . . at best, a bad idea. The woman had finished her meal now, and was preparing to go. Dazrath knew nothing about her in all honesty, and decided he had better let her go. It would be a foolish move to kidnap her and risk upsetting Sunetra further. It would also just raise her suspicions if he tried to force his hand. She may tell Tidus.

"I am sorry. I am not a stalker, as such, just was eager to talk to you was all. I wish you good eve."

Bianca De'Amionette The strangers words were distant for she was already out the door and into the hustle and bustle of the crowd. She dare not look back, something in her told Bianca not to trust that young man. Usually Bianca was always open for conversation with a newcomer, but that man, there was something about that man that made her stomach churn. He smelled of something horrid, not any bodily odour, but something worst, she couldn't quite place a finger on it. The sun was shifting, and it was getting later in the day, "It would be wise for me to ride home before it begins to darken" suggested Bianca to herself, only making one final stop at a whiskey vendor to buy her loving Donovan a special treat. Her snow white steed pranced in place as she entered the stalls, the stable boy raising from the pile of hay that he rested on.

"Did you have a good day in town, Lady Bianca?" he asked, opening the stable gate for her, watching her go in and start to pat her horse lovingly on his neck. "Oh yes, it was a very good day, lovely weather." she said gently, tying her satchel securely to the saddle of her steed. "Did I give you enough coins, Amon?" she asked, lifting herself onto the saddle without assistance, one leg swinging gracefully over the other side. "Oh yes, Miss, more than needed!", and with that, she pulled the reins and made her way out of the stall, waving a goodbye to stable boy, making her way toward home. "Be careful, Lady Bianca!" shouted the stable boy, watching her shrink off into the distance.

Donovan Konvarc'h: *Dazrath emitted a false sigh and let Bianca leave. He then downed the remaining beer in his flagon, and then turned to a throng of whores sat at another table, who were actually watching and eyeing him. "How much?" was his simple query, his hands splayed apart. Well. It could prove to be his last bit of fun before his potential demise. The ladies' eyes danced over his form. "Nothin'!" one shouted. Dazrath just shook his head . . . but cocked his head toward the stairs. The woman rose and the two ascended the stairwell. "I'm coming too!" shouted another. In fact, five ladies would have their fun with the assassin, and he, his fun with them . . . *

Bianca De'Amionette Good speed Bianca made, making it the outskirts of the Dilsynia lands as the sun began to simmer down into the horizon. Her steeds breathing was heavy through it's large nostrils, a wave of relief washing over her as she saw the great House from over the hill. She gave her white steed a rustle on the mane, he had ridden fast, and was most likely tired and needed tending to by the Houses stable boy. "I will be sure to give you extra feed, my lovely!" Bianca said to her trusty horse, giving one last heave ho kick to his ribs, speeding down toward the house. Black hair danced wildly about her shoulders, skirts doing the same, her long slender legs showing.

Donovan Konvarc'h: By this stage of the day, the body of Rammas had been moved into the care of the mortician. The inspector had arrived again, perturbed by the whole affair. Tidus made it quite clear however, in no uncertain terms, that he was being targeted and that Rammas had died in a case of mistaken identity. Donovan had agreed with that, and later put forth the proposition that they must be close to guessing the nature of their nemesis.

"Our investigation is obviously making an impact, Tidus. There are forces at work against us, and we have riled them, forced their hand so to speak."

Bianca De'Amionette Excitement rushed through her as she leapt from her horse, noticing that Donovan's steed was in the stable meaning he must be home. "Give him a wash and a good watering," Bianca shouted to the stable worker, she turned almost forgetting to say something else, "oh, and extra feed, he road good and hard today!" with bag in hand, she rushed through to the entrance of the great House. Oh, how excited she was to give Donovan the whiskey she had spent the last bit of her coins on. The merchant said it had been aged for over ten years, it was mighty strong and should put hair on any mans chest! Of course that gesture made Bianca giggle.
"Donovan!" Bianca shouted as she slammed the door shut behind her, hoping her lover would hear her call.

Donovan Konvarc'h: Bianca would come into the heart of another problem, into the midst of another talk of deliberation between the advisor and Tidus. In particular, she would hear her lover breathe some words with passion, "We need to fight back and expose them!" The whiskey? It would doubtless go a long way indeed for her efforts in calming both men. [Fin]

Toes of her shoes were tapped by the front entrance of the grand old House, bits of mud and dirt crumbling off.
Donovan's passionate proposal echoed to the hearing range of Bianca's ears. Content with the not so great but acceptional clensliness of her boots, she went further into the house, trying to pin point the location of her betrothed. Curiousity tickled at her, pondering what Donovan was speaking of - 'fight back' he has said, but who were they fighting? Bianca passed a mirror
as she made her way to the place she thought her lover would be, per usual, in his study. Left hand combed through her
disheveled raven hair, she was beautiful nonetheless, but looked wild indeed. Mud crusted at the ends of her emerald skirts from the strenuious ride home, servants nodded to her as she passed, she nodding back in return and smiling. "Good evening, Lady Bianca." greeted a kitchen worker kindly, "Good evening," Bianca paused in her stride, "would you mind passing the word to the head of the kitchen to prepare a meal for myself and Donovan? I know he must have forgotten to eat supper, must be busy in his work as usual!". The kitchen servant nodded to the raven haired lady, "Pheasant would be nice, if you have it available!"
and with that request the kitchen servent scurried off to relay the word. Everyone in the House was so kind, and so in debt with
their assigned duties. Finally she was outside the door of Donovan's study, right hand digging into her large satchel, fingers grasping around the long neck of the whiskey bottle. Bianca hid it behind her back, a smile perking, back of her left hand knocking on the thick wooden surface, "Donovan?".

"Fight back and expose them . . . " Donovan repeated the words, pondering just how they could go about that. The advisor began caressing his earring, wrought in the shape of a wolf's head, a habit of his when deep in thought.

"Let's assume Harvold was murdered by this same person or group. Cerise gains control, and whether her grief is real or not, she is near madness and making appalling decisions—asttacking our options; pushing Manly out the door. Is she being manipulated? Poisoned? Yet you've been watching her, tending her carefully, and suspect nothing."

"The fact remains that our enemies are going to lengths to unsettle the house and our livelihood. They are determined. They've now tried to eliminate you," Donovan felt his spine shiver, talking about his friend in such measures. The peril was weighing heavy.

"Our investigations are close to uncovering the truth, and someone is trying to interfere. If Cerise is above suspicion, could they compromise our new heir, Deston? To control him and influence his decisions?"

"Who could influence him?"

It was a good question. There were a few candidates. But time was short, and Donovan continued with a trace of worry in his voice, "Tomorrow I'm duty bound to notify Deston that he can accept the position and move in. Royal Approval was received this afternoon, after the incident. I was intending to inform Cerise but the inspector arrived and took precedence. I must do so now."

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Bianca called out.

"I'm coming, my dear!" the advisor strode to the door, drew it open, and moved to profoundly embrace the love and light of his life. She was safe! Bianca kept her distance however and her hand behind her back, so he held back, beginning to think she was annoyed at him. " I had to send Giancarlo to get you!" he implored, beseechingly. "You must not travel out again! There is too much danger."

He regarded her curiously as she held back. She didn't actually appear too annoyed at him. Just slightly worn out. Shopping could do that, though. He looked her up and down, "You are okay?" he asked.

Excitement tickled up and down her body as she heard Donovan's voice call back in response.
Fingers tightened around the neck of the rather large bottle of whiskey, the strong liquid it contained
sloshing to and fro as Bianca shifted. Her smile continued to spread across her lovely face as her lover
opened the studies door. She listened to Donovan's concerned words as she came in past the door frame,
"Oh darling, I am sorry that you were worried, God's speed was with me though, I got home in one piece!" she
inched a little closer to Donovan. "I hope poor Giancarlo will notice my steed is not in any of the stalls in Variens
and head home, it would be ashame if he spent all night searching for me!" knuckles whitened around the glass
neck, seeing the house Wizard Tidus also in her company. The two of them would surely be happy with the gift
she purchased for Donovan, what was more uplifting than two friends over two glasses of fine whiskey? "Hello Tidus."
she briefly turned the warmth of her smile onto the House Wizard before turning to give Donovan a brush of her
pillow soft lips. "I am doing well, I am just weathered from the speedy ride home I had." Bianca pressed the bottle closer
to her back - she decided she wouldn't mention the odd young man in the brothel. The thought of his smell sent shivers
up and down her spine! What good sense would it make to worry her loving Donovan about some man who was probably
just paramored with her? The satchel was set down onto the floor, "I do have something that will brighten up both your
evenings!" said the raven haired beauty, moving the bottle of whiskey from behind her back. The whiskey sloshed in
the large bottle as Bianca placed it into Donovan's hands, eyes searching his face for a reaction.