Dear Diary: And Then the Day Got Really WeirdIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | DearDiaryAndThenTheDay
Petra was glancing through the previous evening's receipts when she was interrupted yet again. But she knew who it was without asking or looking up. "Si, Vincenzo?" she asked as the slim, elegant form of her Security Chief strolled in. When he stopped in front of her desk instead of sitting, she looked up curiously. The man picked up a photograph in a gilded frame from her desk top and smiled faintly at the image. "There is a messenger here that insists upon speaking to you directly," he explained. "I think, perhaps, you should." Petra sat back in her chair and raised a curious eyebrow. "That is only the complete opposite of what you usually say. Why?" "Because this is quite atypical of Sorcha's Ambassador," he smirked as he set the picture back in its place. Then added with a chiding tone. "And you should go to Venecia soon." Petra resisted the urge to throw her fountain pen at his head. "I know. Show this messenger in. I will go as soon as I can get away. That is not today." "I'll be going with you," he informed her on his way out the door, to Petra's utter lack of surprise. She just waved a manicured hand in his direction as she sat back to receive this curious messenger. The messenger from Ingrey was soon shown into the office. Tall, and gazelle like, the impression that Petra might get of her is of speed and movement. Her clothing was in the purple and gold that she had sometimes seen Ingrey use in official functions and duties. The messenger, though, had taken this color scheme to the point that her hair was a mix of the pair of colors, and, currently, her eyes were a pale purple with flecks of gold as well. She bowed, properly, as soon as she entered the room and came face to face with Petra. "Petra Rossi?" she asked formally. "I bear an urgent message to you from Minister-Counsellor Ingrey Wererathe." She brought forward the folded and sealed piece of paper and walked forward just enough that Petra could take it from her without rising from the desk. "Thank you," Petra said as she took the paper. She knew better then to bother asking the woman to take a seat. Breaking the seal carefully, she read the letter. Surprise kept firmly under wraps, she read it through again before refolding it and setting it aside. She regarded the woman in front of her placidly. "Please tell the Ambassador that I am at his disposal. Whenever he has the time, I will be happy to speak with him. If we have already left port, I will leave word with our ferryman that Minister-Counsellor Ingrey Wererathe is expected. Security will also be alerted." Nyoma bowed formally to her. "On behalf of the Minister-Counsellor, I thank you for for your consideration. I will return to him promptly with your acceptance of his request." "Lady." she said once more with a bob of the head, and then she turned and headed toward the exit to the room, and soon, off the ship and on her way back to the Embassy. Petra waited until she left, and then re-read the note again just as Vincenzo returned to office. This time, he did sit down, folding his long, slender frame into one of the elegant barrel backed chairs with a grace many women would envy. He raised an expectant eyebrow. Petra silently slid it across the desk to him without a word then sat back to watch his face. As she expected, there was only the twitch of his left eyebrow before he folded it and slid it back. "Vague. But intriguing, si?" "Si," Petra agreed. She tapped it on the edge of her desk. "He obviously wishes to discuss Sorcha. Whatever that is I am not terribly concerned. He either wants to see less of her, or a contract like the one Jurt has with our other redhead. It is these other things he alludes to that have me confused and intrigued." She leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling. "Shame I do not know any True Seers in Amber." Vincenzo drummed his fingertips on the arm of the chair in a moment of shared silence. "I am a suspicious man, Bella. I have had to be. At the moment, I suspect we are either going to have a drop in the number of our notable regulars, or see more of them....and possibly some new ones. It has been too quiet, too long,, and events of the morning are bound to affect us because of our clientele." "Bleys paid off his tab," she offered, and then sighed. "And Dawn quit. I suspect Vikund had something to do with that." She held a hand up. "Don't. I don't plan on giving him another spot on my staff." Vincenzo shrugged. "We all know how effective my protests were with the last one," he said, examining his nails. "But I'm pleased you accept that I was correct. Though it took you thirty years. Stubborn woman. Still, it is good I am sitting down." Petra snorted. "Then you might wish to get a drink for this next part; You were right. I have allowed the situation to make me ... soft, and I don't have the luxury to *be* soft. Not anymore." She looked over to find him making the effort to not look smug and chuckled mirthlessly. "Felice Solstizio." "Hmmm," he responded, and left his chair and the office, disappearing into her private rooms. Petra didn't bother following him. He knew where everything was... whatever it was. She got up and poured herself a glass of Barolo, and pretended she hadn't done serious damage to a bottle of tequila earlier. If she weren't of the Blood of Amber, she was sure she would be an alcoholic by now. When he returned, he was bearing a ring that she had been avoiding wearing for years. Without a word, he took her hand and slipped it on. "To remind you, Marchesa," he said sternly. "Do not take it off again. "Non dimenticare mai." Petra looked down at the dully glittering signet of Rossini. "Si, Zito. Ho dimenticato me stesso." With that she turned and went back to her desk, Vincenzo's darkly flashing eyes watching her until she sat down. He approached the desk and gestured to the note. "There is no point in worrying over this until he explains. My advice is to burn it. It could be construed into almost anything, and he is still a client at this moment." Petra pushed a crystal ashtray across the desk, into which Vincenzo proceeded to tear the paper into small pieces. "I will alert Security that he is expected and should be brought straight here. No matter when he arrives?" "Si," she nodded. "And let the ferry man know to bring him out if we have already left port by the time he arrives.... and send someone up here to collect Larissa and Islain's things. They need to be cleaned and delivered to the castle. Vincenzo nodded and then left Petra alone to try and determine for herself the exact moment things had started getting out of hand. She instead sighed and carried the ashtray to her bedroom where a lotus scented candle burned steadily. As the flames curled the pieces of paper to ash, Petra opened a curtain that did not cover a window, for a window on that particular wall would be a silly thing. Instead it revealed a painting, one that showed a scene she had never looked upon with her own eyes; a sinuous, twisting sigel burning blue white in cavernous black. "Ricordare..." From somewhere behind her, Souriguieres was being played on a golden harp.
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