Hells, the man could drink. It had been ages ago when Enzo signaled to Simone to lighten his drinks while keeping the man's strong. Would he need to signal to cut the alcohol from his drinks altogether? The man, a Lord of some fashion from the Free Marches, had taken pains to liken himself to Enzo throughout his visit to Minrathous. Like Enzo, he was above the base need for a profession, instead enjoying more refined pursuits such as hunting. He also loved horses, something that he indeed had in common with Enzo. The man, unfortunately, was not as fond of dracolisks, but that was a fault of most foreigners and Enzo did his best not to hold it against him.
But while they might not be directly involved in trade, both Enzo and this Free Marcher Lord had much interest in it. And celebrating the union of one of his cousins from a lesser house to one of the man's... nephews?... was the acceptable way to close the negotiations around the resumption of a previously very profitable trade route. So Enzo smiled, matched toast for toast, and waited for the man to run out of steam.
That happened some time after ten. Early, by the Blind Eye's standards, but they'd started at the late morning engagement breakfast. After entrusting the man to Simone, who hailed him a carriage back to the residence the man had been renting, Enzo stumbled up a back set of stairs. He was not entirely drunk, but he was too far along to brave the Blind Eye at its peak hours, yet not so far along to want to go to bed. He'd stay for a while. Quinn was out and it was always good to have some form of management on site after all.
Enzo whistled as he made his way from the stairs down the hall to his office, content at how the Free Marcher's visit had gone. Foreigners did not know, or even really care about how the Pavus name had lost face in the years since the veil fell and the barrier was raised. All they wanted was the return of their trade routes. And Enzo was happy enough to provide. One thing the other Altus houses couldn't take was Pavus' wealth. So while he did his best to claw them back out of the social hole his cousin had condemned them to, he did his damnedest to ensure the gold continued to flow.
His whistle stalled, sinking in pitch from high to low when he eyes registered the missing knob on the ajar office door... and the flicker of firelight beyond through the gap. That certainly helped to sober him some. Brow furrowing, Enzo took a deep breath as he pushed magic through his body. Eyes dilated to take in every detail the dim light could provide. His ears rang for a moment as his magic pushed them to greater accuracy. Every muscle flooded with blood and energy, ready to act. Taking another step, he stood to the side of the door, allowing only a narrow swath of the room to be visible as he slowly opened the door. Moving with it, he was able to take in the room as the door opened until the apparent culprit came into view.
Enzo blinked at the woman seated at his desk, cozy in the firelight from the stove. Inwardly, his mind raced in search of a name, or a house, but nothing came to him. Puzzled, he glanced at the doorknob on his desk, then back up at the woman. She wore the clothing one would expect of a lady from at least a minor house. Her lack of curtsies and "Sorry m'lord"s also lent to the theory that she was in some way noble. And, he supposed, he had no real reason to be rude to a lady who had perhaps come looking for him.
"Are you in need of some assistance, miss...?" he allowed the question to trail off, just as he allowed the magic he'd stirred up to settle slowly in his system.
@Isabeau Icarius
But while they might not be directly involved in trade, both Enzo and this Free Marcher Lord had much interest in it. And celebrating the union of one of his cousins from a lesser house to one of the man's... nephews?... was the acceptable way to close the negotiations around the resumption of a previously very profitable trade route. So Enzo smiled, matched toast for toast, and waited for the man to run out of steam.
That happened some time after ten. Early, by the Blind Eye's standards, but they'd started at the late morning engagement breakfast. After entrusting the man to Simone, who hailed him a carriage back to the residence the man had been renting, Enzo stumbled up a back set of stairs. He was not entirely drunk, but he was too far along to brave the Blind Eye at its peak hours, yet not so far along to want to go to bed. He'd stay for a while. Quinn was out and it was always good to have some form of management on site after all.
Enzo whistled as he made his way from the stairs down the hall to his office, content at how the Free Marcher's visit had gone. Foreigners did not know, or even really care about how the Pavus name had lost face in the years since the veil fell and the barrier was raised. All they wanted was the return of their trade routes. And Enzo was happy enough to provide. One thing the other Altus houses couldn't take was Pavus' wealth. So while he did his best to claw them back out of the social hole his cousin had condemned them to, he did his damnedest to ensure the gold continued to flow.
His whistle stalled, sinking in pitch from high to low when he eyes registered the missing knob on the ajar office door... and the flicker of firelight beyond through the gap. That certainly helped to sober him some. Brow furrowing, Enzo took a deep breath as he pushed magic through his body. Eyes dilated to take in every detail the dim light could provide. His ears rang for a moment as his magic pushed them to greater accuracy. Every muscle flooded with blood and energy, ready to act. Taking another step, he stood to the side of the door, allowing only a narrow swath of the room to be visible as he slowly opened the door. Moving with it, he was able to take in the room as the door opened until the apparent culprit came into view.
Enzo blinked at the woman seated at his desk, cozy in the firelight from the stove. Inwardly, his mind raced in search of a name, or a house, but nothing came to him. Puzzled, he glanced at the doorknob on his desk, then back up at the woman. She wore the clothing one would expect of a lady from at least a minor house. Her lack of curtsies and "Sorry m'lord"s also lent to the theory that she was in some way noble. And, he supposed, he had no real reason to be rude to a lady who had perhaps come looking for him.
"Are you in need of some assistance, miss...?" he allowed the question to trail off, just as he allowed the magic he'd stirred up to settle slowly in his system.
@Isabeau Icarius
02-18-2025, 04:41 PM
