Patricia Williams
Stories
9
Chapters
5,411
Words
4.6 M
Comments
0
Reading
16 d, 0 h
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Herr Munchausen ends up calling up his wife Edna and Adolph, who turns out to be his eldest and tells them that Verwaand was "dealt with" while having them sit with us while he pours out a bottle of wine into glasses. "To Kristoff's memory, may he rest in peace." - he proclaims somberly, lifting the glass. Everyone drinks. Oh, that's right, you don't clink glasses when it's wake. Fair enough. The rest of the visit is scattered. While I obviously can't promise anything right now, I do drop enough hints in…-
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The remaining of the visit to Kraut is... indescript, I suppose, would be a better option. Nothing more of importance was discussed, the last three days devoted solely to working out the schedules and setting up dates and agreements for who, when, how much, what for and other assorted sundries. The situation with Kassandra had been tactfully shoved out of attention by everyone involved, the official version simply being that "master artificer from Champagne fashioned magical eyes out of exceedingly rare…
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I give Kassandra a bit of time to get used to returned eyesight, then cough. She immediately snaps to attention, her face looking much livelier now, construct grafted into it notwithstanding. I hold up a conjured mirror in front of her, and her mouth opens slightly, as she traces her hand over the cheek, rubbing under her new eye lightly, then comes to scratch her nose. "Gods above." - she whispers - "Talk about getting what you asked for..." She marvels at her new face, but then her expression snaps back…
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It takes some finagling, but we finally get Madeleine to admit she is trying to get revenge on me, or more precisely on my house over the fact that her father was a bastard son of a house my grandfather paupered. I'm honestly not even sure what to do with this. Granted, Philippe Gillespie was a cast-iron bastard with a cruel and inventive mind, but given that Madeleine's father was a bastard, what difference does it make? He'd be left without any support regardless. He WAS, at that. Additionally, and most…
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This is one of the topics I'm not particularly experienced in, but based on the duration and the general... slapshoddiness of the whole thing, I am inclined to conclude that the crying jag right now was the "I'm genuinely confused and despondent", not the "I'm presenting a polite fiction of distress". Duke is kind of torn between the obvious necessity of not angering someone holding incredibly damning blackmail over his head and equally obvious desire to be irate at someone who made his beloved daughter…
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In the wake of things not going to prediction, Klaus had resolved to do the thing he previously put off as the very last resort option - consulting with an actual seer. He did not put much stock in it, but in the face of all his expectations flying into his face, even outright gibberish would be a fair cop at figuring out the thrice-bedamned Gillespies. He needed to know WHAT was the trap, curse it all, and as quickly as possible. His expectations did not pan out at all - the amount of steel offered, the…
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In a way, de Braltar might get just what he wanted, I suppose. In a way. It all hinges on how quick-witted his daughter is. We have discussed his business opportunities while the footman went to the academy to fetch the girl in question, and I have to say duke is pretty on the ball. His primary "I want to buy that" is a license to pave tar roads at his discretion in his dukedom. Which, admittedly, I'd provide for a purely nominal fee or entirely for free as it was. Well, last one more if king brokered some…
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The talks continue for quite a while after that. A LOT of detail about who and how and where and why. Dad and van der Klaas are asked to weigh in, then Rory is put to questioning by a combo of Alphonse and Klaus about the exact products dwarves would consider selling. Thankfully, the details themselves are not explosive. Nothing on the level of Klaus showing up, at least. Speaking of whom... I bugged the palace. Like, entirely. I want to know every last little thing Klaus does. To the best of my covert…
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So... Let's see what do we have. On one hand, dad and Abe and van der Klaases who probably have some idea who Klaus is, but not about our personal altercations. On the other, Hiram, Alphonse and Klaus himself are aware that I ripped his head off, but all of them are keenly aware the circumstances of this incident are not in their favor. Admittedly, I have no idea which way Alphonse will jump. Hiram had not been aware of Klaus being back among the living - he acts well, but the physiological expressions of…
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"Mysteriously", the overly solicitous "servant" had vanished. The rest, I noticed, had been relieved, if too professional to actually show it. Makes sense. Nobles often practiced group responsibility for domestics, and it would not be out of character for me to demand It's surprising just how much sudden pang of hunger is motivating one to dry off and put on clothes. Of course, it does help that drying oneself off is a cantrip so simple Bridgit uses it casually, nevermind me. I evaporate the bath water…
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