《ODHM: Holst Curio and Convenience》56: Oil and Water

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“Just…what the hell was that?!” said Polymnia.

She and Alanna were both sitting in the Queen’s private quarters within the royal palace. The queen had taken off her make-up and formal garb, and now sat in a tank top and yoga pants, with her feet resting on a table.

“With all due respect…I’m afraid there might have been an error in the choice of staffers…” said Alanna. Drinking water to quench a throat that felt parched after arguing over the phone for what felt like hours.

“Things seemed like they were going fine and then your son just suddenly went off…Like “off”-off…” said Polymnia. Almost pouting, because she’d just had quite the scare. For a leader, there was nothing more unnerving than a madman with a doomsday weapon, and an unhinged undying-ranked individual was more or less the same thing.

Alanna sighed.

“As I’ve already told you…My son’s relationship with the rest of our family is less than harmonious…Very much so. Others in the Dorothea clan don’t seem to understand this…and thus if I had to guess, they pulled some strings to place one of kinfolk amidst your retinue…” said Alanna. Rubbing her temple. Feeling a headache come on.

“Shit…And you didn’t think to warn me!?” snapped Polymnia. Her gaze filled with blame and just a touch of betrayal.

“I didn’t know until we were at the venue and by the time we were there…there were all those cameras and microphones around…” said Alanna.

Polymnia’s look softened and then sharpened as she got the sense that this might have been the ancillary intent behind whoever leaked the time and location of her tea time with the troublesome Ellis Holst. It probably wasn’t their main intent in doing so, but Polymnia was willing to bet a sizable portion of her fortune that if she went and squeezed the senior attache that she’d had in charge of choosing who would be present that day to see who’d okayed Simon Dorothea’s presence amongst her staff, she’d find a hint of who else had been trying to mess with her that day.

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“Ugh…Alright, I’m not happy about any of this, but I think I’ve got a clear picture of what happened…” sighed Polymnia.

“So….” said Polymnia.

“....So,” said Alanna.

“That son of yours really isn’t all too fond of house Dorothea is he?” said Polymnia.

“It would seem so…I’d thought…I don’t know what I thought. Perhaps I should just be happy he seems to be warming up to ‘me’ at the least…” said Alanna. Swallowing a groan. Inwardly castigating present and past selves for letting today happen.

Polymnia felt a touch of pity, but the more practical parts of her mind kept moving. She lamented the revelation that clan Dorothea most likely truly would not serve as any kind of handle with which she could deal with the Holst boy. Polymnia also noted that no one in clan Dorothea, save perhaps Alanna herself, should be allowed to be involved in Polymnia’s work with that man…Ever.

He’d seemed amiable enough, and she believed him when he said he had no ill intentions regarding Eumelia. Based on the information she’d been able to pull up about the man’s past doings, and her own impressions of the man, Polymnia had come to the conclusion that he was the sort that was only dangerous if provoked, and in a turn of mixed luck, Alanna’s opponents within the Dorothea clan had just revealed that they were one of that man’s triggers in a very bad way.

The man had controlled himself until one of them had insisted on trying to engage him, and after losing his temper a bit, Holst still didn’t actually “harm” the other person, or even exchange any harsh words with the man, he just left. A thing that revealed extreme repulsion, and a tight, steel-like, self-control.

Meaning that even this repellent relationship couldn’t somehow be used in Eumelia’s favor, since all it could do is potentially put the nation into the man’s bad stead. A thing that Eumelia honestly couldn’t afford because at this stage, that man on his own could push the country into a depression, and that’s without getting Mirsada and Violet involved.

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“Pft…Alright, well, the good news is that most of the evening went off without a hitch, and the one hiccup happened away from the cameras, so we can work out the rest later. Your boy’s people are still working with my people on various public works projects so it seems like his side wants to pretend this didn’t happen too…So, I suppose this was still ‘mission accomplished’…” said Polymnia.

“I suppose so, your highness,” said Alanna.

*************************************************************************************************************

An exhausted Alanna made her way back home to the Dorothea Estate. One long car ride, and a shuttle ride later, she was back with her family.

“You look exhausted, hon,” noted Gregory James Dorothea.

Tall, and broad-bodied with brown skin, further darkened by the sun. A broad face, a large nose, and angled lips. A well-maintained mutton-chop beard. Brown eyes that were downturned, soulful, and just a little doleful. Thin eyebrows. Hip-length black hair that was usually worn in a ponytail. Gregory was Alanna’s second husband. The man was a mercenary and hunter and thus was often away on work. By random chance, both he and Alanna were returning home at the same time, thus Gregory met Alanna at the door.

Alanna smiled tiredly and nodded. Tossing her shoulder lightly.

“Yeah…I know,” said Alanna.

“Rough day at work?” said Gregory.

“Kinda…The idiots in the rest of the clan decided to jump around once I looked away again, and made a bit of a mess…”

“Oof…What happened exactly?” said Gregory. Despite his burly appearance, the man was laid-back and attentive, like a doting family dog. It was easy for Alanna to let him in and let her guard down with him. Thus she easily leaned into him, resting her shoulder against his broad chest.

Then Alanna explained exactly what happened and Gregory winced. Alanna figured he'd get it. Of all her close and remote family members, Gregory was one of the few who showed anything remotely like a sense of understanding…Or guilt, regarding what happened with the younger Ellis.

Of course, there was still that somewhat alarming, impression that Gregory almost saw all that had happened as something that couldn’t be helped, but at least he showed some vestiges of regret over how things went down, which went a long way in letting Alanna feel like she wasn’t living amongst a family of psychopaths.

“I can’t believe they did that…That side of the family is always pushing your buttons. It’s like that Aunt of yours never quite let the fact that your grandmother, and now you, were able to maintain your control over the clan,” said Gregory.

“Yeah…” said Alanna. Ignoring the nagging sense that her husband might just be overlooking some other issues regarding what happened.

“Then again…did he really need to go that far?” said Gregory.

“...Hm?” said Alanna. Half-believing, half-hoping, that she’d either misheard, or was misunderstanding her husband’s words.

“Ellis…I mean…I suppose the kid might have had a rough go of it…but, still, he didn’t need to air the family’s dirty laundry like that…or come out so hostile did he?” said Gregory.

Alanna looked up into her husband's ruggedly handsome face and felt a deep sense of sadness and a flash of anger. She stifled both feelings, and was left with only a numbing sense of disappointment. In the end, Alanna simply stepped away from her husband and went inside, after unlocking the door. She now realized that any hope of potentially reconciling her oldest son with the rest of the family was non-existent.

As things stood, if she didn’t wish to see the Dorothea clan extinguished, it would probably be best that she quashed any harebrained schemes that the inheritors of Alanna’s wretched Aunt’s ambitions, might have had to try to use the boy. It was now very clear that Ellis’ feelings for the Dorotheas went beyond mere discomfort and dislike, and were thoroughly planted in the realm of hate, and Alanna was finding it hard to find a reason why this shouldn’t be so.

“Honey?... Honey?” called Gregory. Blinking puzzledly. Sensing something was amiss.

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