Ardaik 17th - La'Trest, Lorellia

Toussaint twiddled his thumbs as he paced about the sitting room, awaiting the arrival of Lady Evelyn Fontaine. It was rather late in the afternoon, and he'd not seen her about the castle all day. He'd been assured, however, that she'd not yet left for the nearly six day trip home to Recheston, though she was scheduled to.

"Toussaint, Darling," Evelyn said as she entered the room, exhaling a delicate stream of smoke.

"Duchess," he greeted, while repositioning a small statuette that looked far better on a shelf in the north corner, than it had on the table he'd rescued it from, next to what was quite possibly the most hideous vase he'd ever seen.. "My sincerest gratitude for humoring me so soon before you're set to leave. You looked lovely at last night's dinner, by the way."

A woman who'd managed to hold onto such a lofty position could have all too easily let her femininity dwindle, but not Evelyn. Even though dressed for travel, her champagne-blond hair was done and pinned up in the latest fashion. Her makeup was flawless; dark smokey eyes and burgundy lips contrasting her pale skin, accented by a perfectly placed beauty mark on her left cheek. A black and gold gown finished off her glamorous and stately appearance.

Evelyn was indeed stunning, not only for her beauty, which endured even at her age, but for her independence. No other woman in Lorellia wielded the power that Evelyn did; not even the queen. In fact, she rivaled most men on the political stage and she knew it.

"How could I refuse?" The duchess approached him, stopping short of actually making contact, as she mimed the act of kissing his cheek but avoided the actual deed. "It is regrettable I have no husband to be resentful of your charm."

"Ah-hah. Yes, well, a wife many men have sought to make you, I'm sure. However, flattery aside, I would like to get to the reason for my asking your audience on such short notice." Toussaint's hands were notoriously animated while he spoke, but at the moment, they were uncharacteristically still; poised to reach into the inner pocket of his fine coat, which he did, to withdraw a collection of paperwork. "Although the king chose not to inform the court, Malton has already fallen... To some leggy allies of mine, at that."

He presented the document to her, and continued once she'd taken it. "Cardenar–" Toussaint held up two more folded letters, clearly composed on the southern kingdom's less refined parchment. "Is poised to shut down trade along the entire western coast." He handed those to her as well. "And this one..."

Toussaint slapped the letter lightly against his open palm a few times, pacing, while he lifted it towards his nose and drew in a subtle breath. "...interestingly enough, was intercepted by a raven. "Your cousin is still the Marquis in Homenil, is he not?"

Evelyn's expression retained the practiced and relaxed smile of a true Lorellian lady, never once displaying anything telling of her true emotions. "Bhalthier? I should certainly hope so."

"Well, despite how it may have appeared at the banquet, I can assure you, Prince Artus is not here, in La'Trest. He is in Homenil..." Toussaint took a moment to allow his statement to float between them, only thinly veiling the thrill he got out of revealing such a delicious morsel of information. "And I have plenty of ears, eyes, and hands to see that he does not ever return to the capital..."

For a moment, she silently regarded the letter in his hand.

He continued, "I do believe that you and I share a common interest, Duchess Fontaine, and that is to keep the kingdom of Lorellia unified. So, with that interest in mind, will I be counting you and the heartlands as a friend to the eastern province, over which I very soon shall control?" The Baron extended his hand, offering her the final correspondence, the one that purportedly was penned by the prince himself. "Or a foe?"

The corner of her impeccably painted lips turned upwards. She took it, but didn't open it right away as her gaze stayed with his. "Marcello is dead?" Evelyn wondered, her voice holding no emotion other than curiosity. Marcello Milton was one of her peers. He was the Marquis of Malton, the most powerful man in the eastern province besides the king, and one that would certainly stand in Toussaint's way if he weren't properly handled.

"No," the baron replied rather flippantly. "Though I'm sure that he'll reach out to you." He adjusted his coat now that his hands were again free.

"Pft!" Evelyn let out a playful, but reserved chortle. "Darling, the day Lord Milton were to seek my help, would be the day the saints forsake us all," Evelyn reasoned as she sat and motioned for Toussaint to do the same if he wished. "The fact that I am absent a letter in his hour of need means that he's likely already gone crawling to Cocham. No doubt crying sedition all the way there."

Evelyn's long delicate fingers made a little walking motion across her lap as she crossed one leg over the other. She wasn't surprised by the news. Marcello Milton was a little man in terms of ego. He'd sooner take to the sea in nothing more than a wine barrel than to go asking a woman for help. But not William Toussaint, he'd come to her on his own, and that was far more flattering than any words. It didn't make her trust him at all, but it was flattering.

"No doubt," Toussaint agreed, "If he does choose to oppose me, which I should think he will, and rally others to do the same, repercussions will be unavoidable." He steepled his fingers as he paced a bit more at a casual gate, ignoring the offered seat for the moment. "Such a division would put our kingdom at great risk from foreign invasion, and of course there would be the commoners to consider," Toussaint added, motioning with one hand. "Conflict is never popular among the classes it most adversely affects, as you know."

"I could contact my cousin about keeping Artus in Serellia... I can offer you some of my men and close all roads leading to the eastern provinces... but there will still be war the moment the Viottos fall. There isn't a noble alive who will hesitate to grab power if the chance to better their position presents itself."

"Of course," he agreed, but that was why he intended to keep Gautier around a little longer... to provide the illusion of a Viotto still holding the throne—still ruling the country. "Of course. And those of us who are clever enough, will seek every opportunity to mitigate the potential losses of such instability." Toussaint turned on his heel to point at the duchess as if his hand were a dowsing rod. "Hence my standing here, entrusting this knowledge to you; one of the few peers I consider an equal."

"Mitigate as we may, a forcible change of power always presents the risk of being invaded, especially if Cardenar and Serellia are already aware of it," Evelyn reasoned.

That could certainly be the case, with Artus in Homenil, with the Serellian marquis. After all, following the attack on La'Trest, the prince had managed to see himself back; not to a Lorellian city, town, or province, but to Serellia...to Homenil, when he clearly could have returned to the capital aboard the Retribution with his father's advisor.

Not that Toussaint would have preferred the prince reaching port. It would've made their timely placement of Gautier quite mute. And Sebastien claimed Artus had been reluctant to sail to Causter... a reluctance likely put into his head by De Saint-Pierre's boy. Could someone have warned him of an impending coo? But why then would the Viotto not seek protection from De Saint-Pierre Senior, or Raoult, in Garesto?

Toussaint paused, gazing at a particular oil painting in the same way one might take in a beautiful sunrise. "You know, I've heard many rumors and creative stories, but I've never met your Serellian cousin... What manner of man is he?"

"Bhalthier? He's a dreadfully timid thing," Evelyn stated blithely. "Reclusive, and consumed by his artistic creativity... It wouldn't be a fallacy to say the poor man has been traumatized by the brutality of his father's demise."

As Evelyn was speaking, an idea the baron hadn't considered priorly, wrinkled his nose in disgust. "They don't have some kind of amorous relationship, do they?" Toussaint interrupted, turning to face her. "I mean no offense to you by such a question, of course, but out of the many wild speculations circulating about the prince's romantic health, I regrettably find a secret affair with your cousin easier to believe than others. And I don't recall having ever heard anyone speak of a 'Mrs Cullach'... How confident are you that we could count on him to detain or even dispose of Prince Viotto?"

Evelyn let out a controlled laugh. "Darling, I trust Bhalthier as much as I trust anyone else, which is to say...very little. I'd also point out that Bhalthier has had even more time than Prince Artus to woo a lady or a man, as Serellia has no regards in such dreadful unions, and he's failed equally at both. Of course, my cousin is quite...odd. It is possible he has forged some relationship with Artus, romantic or otherwise, which may put the Serellians in his pocket... Have you considered that they may find it favorable to keep the Viottos in power?" she wondered as her maid arrived and whispered in her ear. "Ah, tea is ready. Will you be joining?"

He'd not expected for her to stay long enough, so he hadn't had any of his or the castle's servants prepare any. "That would be wonderful, yes," Toussaint replied. "And no, I'm afraid I haven't. However, if the prince is able to seek sanctuary in the north, while our provinces become divided... Serellian interference could prove quite harmful to the rest of us. I'd loath to see foreign meddling in our politics. Tying up the Merchants' Guild was enough of a feat, as it were."

"True... Sometimes a tactical surrender is worth more than victory at all cost. The stakes of a civil war become quite benign next to the threat of invasion from either Serellia or Cardenar. My province's orchards and vineyards are worth nothing to anyone once they've been reduced to ash," the Dutchess reasoned before glancing at him curiously. "You're confident that Cardenar is reliable?" The southern empire was far more imposing a threat in her eyes than the silly north and their pet dragons.

"Cardenians have no reservations when it comes to war," he stated as he finally pulled out a chair for himself across from her at the round table where the tray of tea was deposited. "Between the two of us," Toussaint tossed his coattails out of the way and took a seat. "There's been unrest within the empire, and our aid and supplies, or withdrawal of, could very well shift the control of the entire south from one tribe to another—which my Cardenian colleagues are quite interested in..." Toussaint tapped his lips with a finger as he watched the tea being poured. "And I'm pleased and able to facilitate, provided I get what I want out of them."

"Remove the king and put a false heir on the throne, one who's favorable to your cause and your alliance with Cardenar... Do the same in Serellia and suddenly both kingdoms have fallen under the rule of the Cardenian Empire before even the thought of war crosses anyone's mind. Am I correct in my interpretation?" Evelyn asked as she studied the hue of her tea carefully.

A smile slid across Toussaint's face. "Your womanly form doesn't give credit to the severity of your cleverness, Your Grace. Lorellia will remain under Lorellian rule... as long as that rule is mine."

"I presume that my contribution will not go forgotten once you've secured your position?"

Toussaint effortlessly reached across the table, and delicately lifted one of Evelyn's hands, placing a chaste kiss upon one of her glittering rings. "You...will not fade from my thoughts for even a day."