Constantin Theron squinted against the candle light, cursing the scribes for having made the text so small as the Hyur adjusted the spectacles on the bridge of his nose. An idle wave of his hand, and his Elezen manservant dutifully took the sheet of parchment from his desk and replaced it with another page, leading Constantin to squint once more, a slightly crooked finger tracing the text.
Since their inception, the House of Lords and the House of Commons had been relentless in their conflict. New proposals--usually brought up by the House of Commons--were being drafted with every meeting, forcing a debate wherein the House of Lords would deny said proposal. The shouting would continue back and forth until the Lord Speaker was forced to moderate, and either some kind of lukewarm compromise would be met or recess would be called with no progress made.
A female Elezen servant entered with a short bow. "Lord Valencourt has arrived and requests an audience," she said tersely.
Constantin glanced over his shoulder at her in mild irritation, waving his hand. "Lord Valencourt will enter whether I wish to see him or not." As if on cue, Maximilian brusquely entered the room, shouldering his way past the servant. "Speak of the fiend, and he will appear," the Hyur muttered beneath his breath. Constantin made a gesture out of the door, and the two servants bowed and swiftly left the room, shutting the door behind them.
"It's never a good sign whenever you have to enter my house. At least be quiet; Leila and Astidien are sleeping." Constantin continued attempting to trace the unfeasibly small line of text on the document.
"I am here to discuss our mutual friend," Maximilien said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. The dragoon's countenance was stern, with the heavy implication that he was approaching this issue with equal parts impatience and frustration. "More to the point, I want to know what he is doing."
Constantin snorted. "You have known that shady type far longer than I have, my lord Valencourt."
"But you have been involved in his dealings of intrigue, yes?"
"Not as of late," the Hyur sighed, adjusting his spectacles again. "I have been thoroughly occupied with the bickering of the Houses. Commoners want this, lords deny that. The status of my house is what concerns me just behind the welfare of my children, and the Marquis has made it emphatically clear that any improvements in that sector will occur as coincidence, not as a deliberate result."
Maximilien shook his head. "What was the last thing you did for him?"
"Why do you ask?" Constantin turned his gaze to study the Elezen's face, his eyes squinting further.
"Because I need some kind of guarantee," Maximilien grunted. "I have good standing with the Count de Durendaire. I am willing to put in a good word for the Therons if you supply me with information on the Marquis."
"That is uncharacteristically conniving of you," Constantin muttered, turning away again. "And the esteem of the High Houses means little, least of all Durendaire, as you should know. The war is over and the dragons are no longer our foes, which means all of that pretty gil that Durendaire invested in their dragoons and the Order has fluttered off." The Hyur sniffed ruefully. "The High Houses have no need of bannermen, not any more, as you should well know."
Maximilien's hands curled into fists as he unfolded and refolded his arms, his knuckles turning white from his vice grip. "You need not speak of the repercussions of this peace to me," he seethed, scowling. "But you must know something. You only play the part of the doddering fool chasing after his children, Lord Theron. The Marquis asked you for something."
Another sigh escaped the Hyur's lips. "The Marquis has only asked that an ear be kept on the House of Lords. The Commons he couldn't care less about. Ishgard as a democracy is fifty times easier to manipulate than it ever was under the machinations of the Holy See, so I suspect that anything underhanded occurring is being carried out by the Marquis himself. Before that..." Constantin frowned. Well, there was no reason to hide things any more, was there? "Before that, the Marquis wanted the lords riled up about the Lord Commander--or is it Lord Speaker now? Pin the disappearance of the Archbishop on him as patricide. I may have dropped an encouraging word here or there, but risked nothing else so long as the situation was as volatile as it was." Constantin set down the sheet of parchment on his desk. "Why, what did he ask you to do?"
Maximilien frowned. "Just recently, he had me kill some Au Ra and appropriate him of his rock. You are certain that the Marquis tried to have the nobility oppose the Lord Commander?"
Now it was Constantin's turn to frown. "As certain as I can be. What lead you to this, anyway?"
Maximilien began to pace. "This peace is not good. It is not good for Ishgard, and it is certainly not good for me. The Order is dwindling, and with no dragons to fight, we are meaningless. The Marquis made me certain guarantees. I need leverage in case those guarantees turn out to be false."
Constantin snorted. "Times are changing, Lord Valencourt. Resisting the flow may only drown you faster."
Maximilien, apparently having arbitrarily decided that the conversation would lead nowhere useful, opened the door to the Theron study but paused at Constantin's latest remark. "I would rather burn than follow that course," he murmured before leaving.
Since their inception, the House of Lords and the House of Commons had been relentless in their conflict. New proposals--usually brought up by the House of Commons--were being drafted with every meeting, forcing a debate wherein the House of Lords would deny said proposal. The shouting would continue back and forth until the Lord Speaker was forced to moderate, and either some kind of lukewarm compromise would be met or recess would be called with no progress made.
A female Elezen servant entered with a short bow. "Lord Valencourt has arrived and requests an audience," she said tersely.
Constantin glanced over his shoulder at her in mild irritation, waving his hand. "Lord Valencourt will enter whether I wish to see him or not." As if on cue, Maximilian brusquely entered the room, shouldering his way past the servant. "Speak of the fiend, and he will appear," the Hyur muttered beneath his breath. Constantin made a gesture out of the door, and the two servants bowed and swiftly left the room, shutting the door behind them.
"It's never a good sign whenever you have to enter my house. At least be quiet; Leila and Astidien are sleeping." Constantin continued attempting to trace the unfeasibly small line of text on the document.
"I am here to discuss our mutual friend," Maximilien said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. The dragoon's countenance was stern, with the heavy implication that he was approaching this issue with equal parts impatience and frustration. "More to the point, I want to know what he is doing."
Constantin snorted. "You have known that shady type far longer than I have, my lord Valencourt."
"But you have been involved in his dealings of intrigue, yes?"
"Not as of late," the Hyur sighed, adjusting his spectacles again. "I have been thoroughly occupied with the bickering of the Houses. Commoners want this, lords deny that. The status of my house is what concerns me just behind the welfare of my children, and the Marquis has made it emphatically clear that any improvements in that sector will occur as coincidence, not as a deliberate result."
Maximilien shook his head. "What was the last thing you did for him?"
"Why do you ask?" Constantin turned his gaze to study the Elezen's face, his eyes squinting further.
"Because I need some kind of guarantee," Maximilien grunted. "I have good standing with the Count de Durendaire. I am willing to put in a good word for the Therons if you supply me with information on the Marquis."
"That is uncharacteristically conniving of you," Constantin muttered, turning away again. "And the esteem of the High Houses means little, least of all Durendaire, as you should know. The war is over and the dragons are no longer our foes, which means all of that pretty gil that Durendaire invested in their dragoons and the Order has fluttered off." The Hyur sniffed ruefully. "The High Houses have no need of bannermen, not any more, as you should well know."
Maximilien's hands curled into fists as he unfolded and refolded his arms, his knuckles turning white from his vice grip. "You need not speak of the repercussions of this peace to me," he seethed, scowling. "But you must know something. You only play the part of the doddering fool chasing after his children, Lord Theron. The Marquis asked you for something."
Another sigh escaped the Hyur's lips. "The Marquis has only asked that an ear be kept on the House of Lords. The Commons he couldn't care less about. Ishgard as a democracy is fifty times easier to manipulate than it ever was under the machinations of the Holy See, so I suspect that anything underhanded occurring is being carried out by the Marquis himself. Before that..." Constantin frowned. Well, there was no reason to hide things any more, was there? "Before that, the Marquis wanted the lords riled up about the Lord Commander--or is it Lord Speaker now? Pin the disappearance of the Archbishop on him as patricide. I may have dropped an encouraging word here or there, but risked nothing else so long as the situation was as volatile as it was." Constantin set down the sheet of parchment on his desk. "Why, what did he ask you to do?"
Maximilien frowned. "Just recently, he had me kill some Au Ra and appropriate him of his rock. You are certain that the Marquis tried to have the nobility oppose the Lord Commander?"
Now it was Constantin's turn to frown. "As certain as I can be. What lead you to this, anyway?"
Maximilien began to pace. "This peace is not good. It is not good for Ishgard, and it is certainly not good for me. The Order is dwindling, and with no dragons to fight, we are meaningless. The Marquis made me certain guarantees. I need leverage in case those guarantees turn out to be false."
Constantin snorted. "Times are changing, Lord Valencourt. Resisting the flow may only drown you faster."
Maximilien, apparently having arbitrarily decided that the conversation would lead nowhere useful, opened the door to the Theron study but paused at Constantin's latest remark. "I would rather burn than follow that course," he murmured before leaving.
