The guards at Derran manor looked surprised to see Galier walking up to the gates, his small entourage of commoners in tow. The tall horsehair crests atop their helmets swayed as they turned their heads to track him, and though he could not see their faces through the thick shadow cast by those helmets, he knew that they had not expected to see him that night.

He hadn’t been to Derran manor, his manor, in well over a week now and most of the management was handled by others. Adelphine and the people she had recruited. He really only put in the occasional appearance for the sake of his image, and to keep Adelphine company from time to time. He owed her at least that much, and he enjoyed her company. It was the building itself that kept Galier away.

Adelphine was a diligent worker and had managed to find more money hidden in those contracts and ledgers than Galier ever would have been able to. What was more, she didn’t even mind the work. As she said it, it was less than she would have been expected to do for her own house and had the benefit of being more interesting. How anyone could find those documents interesting was baffling to Galier.

But it wasn’t a lack of work to do that kept Galier away from the foreboding building. In truth, even though he was the seat of house Derran, however temporarily, it did not feel like his home. It never had before and it certainly did not now. This was the place where Martim Derran had lived, a man who cared as much for Galier as he did for the dust on his cloak. That meant the manor was never an inviting place in the past and not even death could change that.

As they entered the gates and crossed the small courtyard, Galier heard muffled gasps from behind him. That would be Ana and Sancte, he wagered. Scythese was far too disdainful of nobility to be impressed, and he had seen it all before.

Regardless of how Scythese felt, the entry to house Derran was something to marvel at. Galier could remember his own wonder at the sight from the first time he had seen it. It would not be easily captured again.

Like every other building in the city, this one was built of flat, greyish beige stone, undecorated and plain. It was in scale that it shone. Massive, looming and oppressive, it brought to mind the image of a massive beast squatting behind the wall that enclosed it. Other buildings might be more appealing, but few were more foreboding than Derran manor.

It was built to intimidate and filled the role well. All severe angles and dark shadows cast by deeply recessed windows and doors. Then, once they crossed the threshold into the great hall, it suddenly, shockingly, gave way to the brilliance that nobles kept for the interiors.

Since taking up residence, Adelphine had made quite a few changes. To start with, the great entrance hall was always full now, where Martim had almost always kept it empty. The massive chandelier that Martim had always kept in place was still there, but nothing else was even recognizable. His austere taste was well and truly expunged from these halls. The thought made Galier grin, though he felt guilty for it.

There were tables and chairs for guests as well as stand-lamps to make sure the room was lit to every corner. There would have never been so much as a chair before. Every surface was polished to perfection, from the marble floor to the lacquered wood tabletop that dominated the middle of the room. There were smaller tables too, scattered around near the walls, but the one in the center was by far the largest and most impressive. It looked like a room actually meant to play host to people, not the oversized entryway that it had been under Martim’s stewardship.

The grand table was imported no doubt. The deep brown wood was a giveaway. It was valued amongst the old blood and was not grown anywhere but Phoenaxia as far as Galier knew. Getting it here must have cost a small fortune, but Adelphine brought in more money than she spent by a wide margin. Galier was more than willing to allow her these comforts.

Martim had always kept the entire building bare when not in use, running counter to tradition both in Maerin and in his own homeland up north. Of course, any visitor would never know that. He had always been meticulous in ensuring that the parts of the manor that would be seen by outside eyes were properly furnished. Never more than necessary, and never less.

Galier had interpreted that as tightfisted frugality in the past, but since familiarizing himself with the house ledgers, he’d come to realize it had never cut costs at all, not even slightly! The furniture and decorations were kept in storage for much of the time, keeping the lower levels of the building full to bursting and preventing them from being put to any other use. Now Galier wondered if he’d had some other reason. Surely the sour old man had not disliked finery that much. Galier did not spare too much time to wonder however. He had other matters on his mind. Like how to convince the three people he led through the hall to follow him in revolting against the monarch! Much less trusting him, little more than a stranger, to lead them.

Even though the great hall was furnished, Galier did not order it prepared for the meal. Instead he herded his small procession towards the rear of the building, past the inner courtyard, to the small room that had once served as Martim’s personal dining room. Ana and Sancte might have appreciated the splendor of a feast served forth in the opulent hall, but it would only put Scythese in a worse mood. Far better to avoid the displays of luxury. Unfortunately it was not as easy as avoiding the hall.

Along their way they passed paintings hung on walls and pieces of delicate pottery on stands in the small alcoves that lined the corridors. Many of the pieces looked strangely familiar to Galier, but out of place sitting in spaces that had always been empty before. He had always seen Derran manor as a dark and dismal place, impressive in its construction but left conspicuously incomplete, like a crown with the stones removed, and Scythese who trailed at the end of their little train clearly thought it would be better with them gone.

Now, it was like the building had been restored and finally brought to its intended purpose. It would never be as opulent as some of the old blood holdings in Maerin, but it might rank among the more impressive owned by a new blood family. The halls glittered now and cast twinkling light from small surfaces of polished gold and silver. Adelphine had done a remarkable job bringing new life to the manor. Galier would never have thought it would be a problem. Of course, Adelphine had never had a reason to suspect a man such as Scythese to visit.

Upon entering, Galier was surprised to find the room he’d had in mind completely transformed since he had last seen it. The stout dining table and severe chairs that Martim had kept there had been removed in favor of shelves, filled with neatly stacked scrolls, that now lined every wall, leaving only small gaps for the two doorways that led into the small once-dining room. The plain stone floor had been covered by an expensive looking rug in red and gold, but there was no table.

The other door, the one that led into the study with which this room shared a wall, had been removed from its hinges entirely, leaving a small archway that fed into the larger room. The sturdy iron hardware still clung to the door frame though. Martim’s touch could not be so easily erased, even if the heavy reinforced door was gone.

“Excuse me,” Came an indignant voice from through that empty doorway, followed quickly by a stern looking face framed by falls of dark curls. Galier did not know why she had begun curling her hair, perhaps to look less out of place in directing a northern house, but he did not disapprove of the change. It was quite fetching, really. “I specifically asked not to be disturbed! I…” Adelphine trailed off as she saw who it was invading her apparently newly expanded study.

Her expression transitioned from embarrassment to confusion, and then to distaste that thinned her full lips as she took in the four people who stood amongst her bookshelves, all with differing levels of confusion and wonder.

“Well!” She said, composing herself and adopting a stiff regal bearing that somehow brought angles to her round face for the benefit of the strangers. She was a lady of the court and would be seen as such, especially by anyone below her station. She was very particular about that.

“If I had known you would be bringing… guests, my lord, I would have had the dining hall prepared.” She sniffed, disregarding the others and gave Galier a pained look. She cared deeply about keeping up appearances and this was not ideal, having commoners brought into the manor like this.

He did take a longer look at Scythese in his plain and dirty clothes. The two of them were most likely acquainted after a fashion, being of a similar age. They had almost certainly met before.Of course Scythese looked at her with the same disdain he held for all nobility. It twisted his narrow face into something ugly.

“I apologize, I should have sent word ahead.” Galier said politely, hoping to defuse the situation before it became difficult to handle. He could practically feel the disgust radiating off of Scythese, and Adelphine did not look much happier. “I had hoped to have a private meal. My friends and I have matters to discuss.”

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to know what you would want to discuss with commoners my lord, but no matter. I can find you someplace.” Adelphine shot a look towards Galier and his friends. Strangely it seemed directed towards Ana and Sancte rather than Scythese.

He thought he caught a hint of something in her tone that surprised him, but it was not at the forefront of his mind. She was clearly not in the best of moods and Scythese would only antagonize.

“We would be honored if you would join us, my lady.” Ana said, as if she did not notice the look. She bent in a practiced bow, as did Sancte. Scythese noticeably did not. Instead he examined the shelves with the air of a scholar underwhelmed.

Adelphine looked very much like she wanted to say no, but she had to realize how it would appear if she refused to dine with friends of her liege lord. A pity that she was so observant and proper. Galier would rather she did not join them. She knew not a whit of his plans, much less of the rebellion, and he did not know where her loyalties lay, though he had a strong suspicion she would not approve. He would have to find a delicate way to dismiss her before any real discussion could be had.

As it turned out, that was a far harder task than he had anticipated. Adelphine led them to a dining room a good deal smaller than the great hall that Galier had never seen before. He had no idea what it might once have been with every last marker removed now. The walls were now home to paintings and plinths bearing all sorts of pretty oddities, not at all what Martim would have liked.

After sending for food to be prepared, Adelphine presided over the meal like a matriarch in her ancestral home. She was a picture of glamour and good breeding, always remaining aloof, even as she expressed passing interest in her guests’ lives. But no matter how little she really cared for conversation with commoners, she did not let it stop her from running the impromptu gathering like an old blood lady was expected to. She was the center of attention and there were no two ways about it.

For having not expected guests that night, Adelphine certainly looked ready to play hostess. Her maroon silk dress was immaculate, her makeup perfectly applied. Her eyes were bright with feigned friendliness and her laugh tinkled like fine crystal. Adelphine really was the ideal of a lady. And it was becoming a real problem for Galier.

The evening dragged on and fatigue began to take a noticeable effect on Galier’s guests. Scythese, who had been tired from his practice to begin with, began to sag like a half empty bag of oats before dinner was through and the two women did not look to be in much better shape.

They hid their yawns behind demure hands and tried to keep a polite facade, but the masks were not well practiced.

To Adelphine it was like a competition. She too was getting tired, Galier could tell, but she wanted to outlast these commoners. There was a flinty spark in her eye that said she wanted to crush them despite her pleasant words.

The proper old blood lady to a fault. With good breeding came superiority, Galier knew it well. He had been shown the error of his ways by the harsh hand of Martim and then the mocking wisdom of Stellaphrena, but Adelphine would never let it go so easily. She meant to show them their place through the powers she had been taught. The measure of a noble was in patience and poise and she would find these commoners lacking.

So she talked, and they talked, all the while with Scythese glowering at them like they were desecrating his grave with every meaningless word. Galier kept himself within the confines of noble propriety, but his patience was wearing very thin.

After the meal was done, they stood, Adelphine competing for grace with the others even if they did not know it.

“We should retire to the sitting room,” She offered, beginning to lead the way to an adjacent room. “I will have dessert and wine brought up.”

Galier needed her gone and she simply was not presenting an opportunity. He could not risk letting her find out about his plans, but she just would not leave. He would have to make that opportunity himself, at the risk of offending the one woman keeping his affairs together while he planned for revolution. One of the very few people he genuinely enjoyed left to him in the entire scheming city.

“I think we will stay and talk for a while, it has been a long day. You are free to go of course. I would not want to interfere with your duties.” He gave her an easy chance to withdraw without admitting defeat, but she would not take it.

“Nonsense,” She replied in perfect measure, “I would not leave guests wanting.” Her words said little but her eyes said more. That she would not let them win and outlast her, not in her own home, which was what Derran manor was to her now.

“Please, my lady,” He said, trying hard not to make it sound like a dismissal, “It is late and I know you have many more important matters to attend to.”

Despite his efforts she looked affronted. She gave one stupefied look to him, then nodded and turned on her heel to leave the room without so much as a polite farewell. She knew that she had been dismissed, they all knew. It was a blow to her pride. Galier prayed that it would not be too great a blow.

The door shut loudly behind her.

“So what is it you so desperately need to talk to us about then?” Ana asked, taking a seat once again and arranging her dress like it was the finest of silk, “That was rather rude, you know.”

“People like her deserve worse,” Scythese grumbled, plopping back into a chair himself, “And the way you simpered over her, Anastasi. It was a disgrace.”

She turned on him, a look of disbelief on her face. “I beg your pardon!” She started in a huff, her cheeks reddening with anger.

“Ana, Scythese, please. Can’t you see this is important to Galier?” Sancte had appeared as if from nowhere, a comforting hand resting on Ana’s shoulder.

Ana looked up at Galier, a chagrined look on her face.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry Galier, and after you invited us to your beautiful home…” She still shot glances towards Scythese but Galier appreciated her restraint.

Sycthese harrumphed but didn’t say anything more which was better than Galier had expected.

Galier was almost disappointed that they had listened to Sancte. Now that he was faced with the very situation he had orchestrated, he did not know what to say.

“Yes, well, you see. It is a rather touchy subject,” Galier began and his throat was suddenly dry. He’d thought about this moment before, had everything he planned to say prepared, but now that the moment had arrived, his mind was blank.

“I umm… I have a plan you see…”

“What are you talking about?” Scythese cut in, clearly impatient to leave and still more than a little annoyed by Ana or Adelphine.

“Well, umm, it's about our shared beliefs…”

Scythese looked at him expectantly, so did Ana and Sancte for that matter. He swallowed hard, willing his voice to be less wavering and uncertain.

“I have a plan, me and some friends of mine, to reclaim Maerin from the empire…” It all came out in a rush.

Then there was silence in the dining room, pure silence, as all three of them, Ana, Scythese, and Sancte stared at Galier in disbelief.