Open Chronicles The Upper Crust (Romance Among Elites)

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Tzuriel Alanthis

Merchant King Of Arethil
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An auspicious occasion is called to order in the heart of the great city of Alliria. Courtesy of the merchant counsel a huge market square was cleared out and decorated, market stalls replaced by refreshment tables, banners and streamers replaced with hanging lights of Dwarven craft strung through the air between buildings and providing a soft yellow light over the square.
A huge bubbling fountain took center stage but left plenty of room for guests to meander, dance, eat, drink, or what have you.
Several bands of highly talented musicians were cued up to entertain for as long as the celebration continues.

Yes, celebration. The granddaughter of one of the counsel members is having her birthday of twelve years old and the doting grandfather decided to share his joy with all of the upper crust of society.

Wine flows freely, food and other drink in great abundance with servants, maids and butlers attending to the guests or their personal charges.
Tzuriel Alanthis sat on the lip of the fountain nursing a glass of red wine, he was dressed in the customary finery of his dark suit. The musicians were in full swing, a light-hearted tune to get the night going, pockets of dancers formed among the crowd twisting and twirling with the lively music.
Many who knew him observed that Tzuriel would normally be among them but he suddenly found himself in a more thoughtful and reflective mood, while ladies skirts billowed around there legs as they spun about him Tzuriel found himself staring deep into the third of wine that remained in his glass. The night was young and so was he... But it was almost as if shadows clung around the edges of his mind and made him suddenly feel terribly old.

Thus it was with great effort that he averted his attention back to the sights around him and stood up, abandoning his glass of wine while he stepped out in search of an open hand to dance with. This melancholy state was simply not like him and he had to distract himself quickly to regain a sense of who he was.

A pretty face eventually did stand out to him, so he approached with practiced elegance and politeness.
"Would the lady honor me with a dance?"
 
He stumbled and fumbled his way into the court of colour and noise. A display of finery and influence laced the merchant isle, the customary song of haggling replaced with the muse of lyre and violins as woman forlorned their earthly duties and let loose into the swing of dance and display. It was a good thing it was night, but even than the pinch and sting of heat that radiated the world gave Farzad a migraine. One would ask how he made it here, the man of ignoble birth, a bloodline mired in explosion and ill-control and finally a reputation for ditching before paying. Overall, Farzad wasn't exactly a reputable name.

Yet, he managed to flounder his way in.
Assuming he had to pay. With a concerto of fantastic like this, colour, people and influence he was sure he wasn't meant to sneak in. He was mainly here for the food. Influence was often daunting, powerful and overall burdensome. "People asking for favours?" He said to an unlucky woman forced to be near the obvious wizard wannabe. "Seems like so much effort. The mail, the.." He looked at what was in their effeminate hand, a single toffee apple, still lacquered with fine amber sludge. "Oh wow we got toffee apples? Hey where did you get that from?" He asked like some lout of informality, even uncouth amongst street sailors. She tried to speak up but he took another deep spill of amber coloured wine, which he was starting to assume from it's foul and bitter taste to be beer. "Damn this wine is foul though." She wasn't able to get a word in edgewise with the man of a million vibrancies. "Oh, I see where they are. Here." He took out a small sliver of paper, the calligraphy at least was some high quality, the ink perfumed with the smokey scent of charred magic. "I like you." He said as he side stepped past them putting the sharp corner edge into the toffee apple, giving them a finger gun and a wink, "You ever need a Wizard to solve like a monster problem..." He paused and shook his head, "Call someone else on that actually, but you need something deciphered hit me up." He took another hefty swig of the amber liquid passing with a rolling step around and through the danvers, matching their grace with the agility of a street urchin between a canopy of legs.

He was quickly ingratiating himself as someone not to be welcomed, nor invited again.
He didn't pay too much worry for that, peoples opinion of him were often skewed into dislike which never phased him as he passed through towns like a fish passes through an ocean. Always more land to cover, more people to tick off and always a way to avoid the tide of hate. It was a poor mindset but when you face death as often as he did and in his line of work, the opinions of people become nothing more than white noise in the background of life as he passed and bumped into something he shouldn't have. An elegant lady, the face of the party he'd say. A man draped in black was heading her way and Farzad gave nothing more than a, "Whoops. 'pologies." An informal, halfway rude as he kept moving and sliding between the twirl of skirts for a toffee apple.
 
Divina loathed large gatherings.

She could be negotiating a new trade deal to Elbion, or talking to her foreman about the latest developments of expansion tenant housing near the Reach. She could be doing so many more important things, yet here she was, standing alone, avoiding most of the general wealthy crush. Long dark brown hair was pinned back away from her face, giving her a clear view with sharp, cool blue eyes, pale skin highlighted by a demure cut azure gown that, despite its' simple appearance, had the sheen of wealth to it.

Only one piece of jewelry glinted, a necklace around a pearly throat, and a lightweight black jacket over her shoulders. And yet, worked into the cloth were subtle designs in matching silk thread; those of oceans, of stars, of murals of lands long established as myth. If one looked closely enough, they would see the rich embroidery on sleeve cuffs and against her throat.

She could hear the whispers, she hardly cared. The Black Widow, she knew the rumors and despised them. Let small-minded, petty noblemen with beds poorer than the finest merchant hands whisper behind foppish hands and snicker.

One day, this could all be hers. She played the game of patience well. Her gaze panned over a colorful young man causing a small ruckus to the eastern corner (Farzad Oldsummer ) and peripherally, another young man (Tzuriel Alanthis ) as well as many others.

She did not deign to socialize just yet, but to take a sip of pale golden wine and enjoy the heat, the sounds, the fortunate few that attempted vain joviality.

Farzad Oldsummer Tzuriel Alanthis
 
Three... two... one...

Sunset.

Victoria stepped out of a large marble building near the festivities. She had been biding her time by selling a few pieces of jewelry. "Family heirlooms," she had lied. She would never part with any of her own family's collection, but she had picked up a few trinkets over the centuries that she no longer desired, and the shopkeeper was very impressed with how well preserved the pieces were, given their age.

She still held a black parasol above her head, and wore long thin gloves to further shield her skin from the light. The shadows of the city had grown long, however, and so long as the sun was no longer directly beating down on her, she would be alright. Once she was certain that indeed this was the case, she handed the parasol to one of the manservants that accompanied her.

"Keep back, I don't want you getting in my way," she spat at the thralls before continuing on to the illuminated square. It was a treasure trove of wealth and influence, and she wouldn't have some mindless buffoons embarrassing her. She moved gracefully, almost ghost-like, through the crowds. The food and drink did not interest her, although she made sure to feign an interest.

What did interest her was the young Divina Rosenstern. The vampire had come to this event not as a monster, but as a Lady. If Greyrock were to regain its former wealth and influence she would need to reestablish the trade routes that had been dissolved by time, and make friends and allies of the elite. This woman had the look of riches about her, and something else that drew Victoria's attention. Obviously Divina's beauty helped, but her expression spoke of more. She wasn't dancing, she was watching. Victoria liked a sharp mind.

Before she could approach, however, she was intercepted.

"Would the lady honor me with a dance?"


Not wanting to start her introductions poorly, she turned, smiled, and gave the young man her hand. "Of course, sir. The honor would be mine." She glanced back at Divina. Their meeting would have to wait.

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This evening's attire
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It seemed the time he chose to get out of his head and into the moment was also the moment a series of events were set into motion. A man bumped into the red haired woman that caught his eye, a waiter was bumped and sent his tray of drinks flying up into the air in a colorful display only a few feet off to Tzuriel's left, and a lady with a too tight whale bone corset swooned into the arms of her escort to his right.

All that happened was a coincidence, still it gave Tzuriel the impression that he was a walking disaster. But that didn't hamper his charming smile and warm offer to the redhead, which was rewarded by her acceptance, though his attention to detail noticed her eyes were elsewhere. On another lady to be precise, and one he was somewhat familiar with. He made it a point to know who was on or close to the merchant counsel.
Silently promising to not take up too much of her time he bowed slightly at the hip, offering her his hand to lead them to a spot less crowded and more free to dance as they pleased.
"As I said, I'm honored. Shall we duel over who's more honored? You seem the type of lady that would enjoy a good bout, if you don't mind my saying so."

He now got a good look at the woman who had caught his eye. Besides her incredible red hair she was hauntingly beautiful in a way that was familiar to him but he couldn't quite place it, not yet anyways.
Her choice of dress he found both tasteful and alluring, she was altogether quite the catch!... Then why did he suddenly feel like the one who was caught?
He cautioned himself around her until he was certain of her.

Never dropping his mask of charm he drew her to a slight clearing in the crowd where he turned to face her and almost immediately stepped into the rhythm of the music. His right hand on the small of her back and the other holding her right hand aloft like a delicate flower as his feet moved with the music.
"Quite the party, don't you agree? Seems the counsel CAN be generous once in a while. But I'm sure a celebration wouldn't be the only reason some of the most powerful people in Alliria would come out to play."
He said this, hinting at goals of his own but also in reference to her own goals that he had yet to quite determine.
 
There was a cataclysm of sound.

A cacophony of shards of glass.

And in the distance a black caterwaul sung in the distance.
It wasn't all him. He thought. He checked actually running a hand through pockets and sheets of fabric like a pickpocketing child with fingers a size too large, it all grew slightly loose but a clever pull and tug, the whole ensemble of put together magic and coloured streaks fixed itself into some mockery of a suit. And in all that, he had his toffee apple.

At this point he wasn't sure what to do his tongue dug into the fabric of his scarf and loosened it, falling down and becoming a too large bandana that sat uncomfortably and awkwardly but more importantly. Stylishly. His tongue lashed like a ghoul fingering it's prey, rolling and warping around the amber stained fruit as thick globs of gold seemed to pool at his tongue. "Damn Eleth. I needa make a book on how to make these bomb-ass toffee apples."

He pondered for a moment as he met back his stride. A trained careful thing from years of soft footsteps and perilous sprints. He almost seemed wizardly, but the way he talked, the way he acted. It was with the same courtly tender as an infant vomiting it's last feed.

'The looking for a third...'


'Black Widow...'
'Unmatched politics...'
The words courted his excitement like the trained dancers that seemed to mire through the gathering. His eyes became illuminated, magic almost popped in his eyes like starlight through seas of green as he suckled again on his toffee apple unknowingly caught in a whirlpool. He was spinning through the area slowly circling without intent but by the tides of fate guiding his steps. He plopped the apple in his mouth, took a long hefty suck from it and in a trance bumped into a second person in the night. Unknowingly, the myth themselves that he had never heard of until a few starstruck moments ago. Worst yet, his toffee apple made love to the ground in a large pool of dripping saliva, melting caramel and cruel grey stone.

"Awgeezeawdamnitijustgotthatonetoo..."
He didn't look up at them, his attention fixated on his pooling apple as he bent down and poked it with a finger. "Sorry mam..." He said like some food-starved orphan, not looking up. "Man tonight I just got the worst case of the bumps." He pondered, head cocked to the side not too dissimilar to a heartbroken puppy.
 
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She had, in fact, been actively keeping her distance from the odd-colored gentleman. Or at least had been trying to.

Divina was not immune to feeling eyes upon her. Indeed, being a new face to the merchant's council, and her own ambitions so fixated upon her family's estate, it was no wonder that others looked in disgust. Or thinly veiled curiosity. But one such pair of eyes settled upon her, and Divina met them unflinchingly with a gimlet eye of lancing curiosity. The woman was beautiful, tastefully dressed, and seemed intent to meet her. For a moment, Divina entertained the idea of meeting a beautiful stranger on a moonlit night, but the glancing woman now had other company.

Thus distracted, she didn't notice a multi-hued man stumbling in her direction, but if she had she would have moved and left him to his fate of staggering into someone else. As it was, his elbow caught her unawares in the side, almost making her yelp in a decidedly ungraceful fashion. That being avoided, he didn't even look at her, but at some soggy treat on the ground, of which the scent seemed to be, in fact, a toffee apple.

Blue eyes blinked in astonishment at the riot of colors, the staggering amount of fashion cuts clashing and the man, crouching on the ground poking at his treat like some woebegone waif. And she... feeling like she just stepped out of her own rigid life for just a moment.

An idea flickered to life. So some of the nobility sneered at her, hmm? Why not give them a real chance to have something to talk about?

"I apologize as well," she answered, lightly touching him on the shoulder. "Perhaps I might tempt you to join me in getting two toffee apples? You see, I'm a touch hungry myself, and no doubt you were distracted by such enticing fair food." A lie, she wasn't necessarily hungry. Though if she peered hard enough, she could detect traces of silk amongst the riot of colorful fabrics he wore, weave of the Rosenstern brand. An interesting turn of events...

"If you would care to join me, sir?"

Farzad Oldsummer
 
He was quick with his words, and Victoria’s lifted a rouge eyebrow at his quip. She was impressed at how quickly he had sized her up, and she allowed her face to convey this as she took his hand.

”Of course I do not mind, a lady takes great pride in her needlework. Some of my needles are simply larger than others.”

She followed him and, with the practiced ease that comes with a thousand such dances over a thousand opulent galas, she slipped into his grasp and let her hand rest on his. She followed his lead without a hitch, and as much as she would like to take all the credit for this, Tzuriel truly was an excellent dancer. His body told her every step he was about to take and every turn he expected her to make. It was rare to find someone so skilled, and when she did, dancing came as easily as walking.

Regardless of her personal tastes, she would have to be blind not to recognize that her partner was supremely beautiful. He had groomed himself to a degree that would make the vainest maiden swoon, and although he stepped gently, his strength was obvious as he guided her through the swirling crowd. The fact that most women of marrying age were eyeing her with venom was icing on the cake. She let a coy smile play across her lips at the thought. They had nothing to fear from her… but she enjoyed being seen as a threat.

"...I'm sure a celebration wouldn't be the only reason some of the most powerful people in Alliria would come out to play."

Handsome and shrewd? Well well, hadn’t she caught the belle of the ball? ”I come to wish good tidings upon the young Lady. Of course, there are some friends I am hoping to see… new faces I am eager to meet.” This was the dance she truly enjoyed. A dance of words and meanings, of twisted doublespeak and coded messages. High society demanded they not reveal their true intents, but it was oh so wonderful to make them known to those clever enough to figure it out.

There was something oddly familiar about this man but she could not say what. Perhaps she had met one of his ancestors ages ago. It was shocking how often that seemed to happen - prominent families changed slowly.
 
Tzuriel still didn't let his mask of charm fall, but his new superb dance partner made the mask at least half again as easy to hold and at least a little genuinely felt.
Even before the very first steps of the dance he had already learned much about her, but the way they almost immediately fell in step with one another told him so much more.

This brand of nobility was rare especially among the women of the upper class, even though his quip was in jest she took it as a reference to a bout with real swords which he respected greatly and let his smile portray this, but he wasn't fool enough to believe she didn't grasp the original intent of merrily bantering back and forth about who feels more honored by the other.
Tzuriel certainly had lots of practice reciting the virtues of women he came to be in company with and was fairly confident that such a merry duel was one he could win with ease.
Still, a rarity that a noble woman would practice with a sword, at least in most circles, and still fewer who would boast of it. Himself being a merchant instead of blood nobility granted him much freedom he doubted he would have had otherwise, though his status and wealth seemed to easily overcome his heritage. He smirked to himself, remembering the smiling faces of the merchants counsel as they offered to keep a seat open for him just in case he changed his mind...

For a brief moment between their words he lost himself in the dance and their easy chemistry. She was truly an excellent partner and he was able to dance for the first time in a long time as an equal to someone, not having to lead an inexperienced girl or be dragged about by an overbearing dominator.
”I come to wish good tidings upon the young Lady. Of course, there are some friends I am hoping to see… new faces I am eager to meet.”
Brought back to the moment he smiled knowingly at her, unobservant simply wasn't him, though admittedly he was hardly himself... And what about her seemed so familiar?
"I do apologize, seems I approached at an awkward moment, though it would have been magnified a hundred fold had I simply backed down."
As the music allowed he twirled her out and back before continuing.
"This once I won't be selfish and monopolize all of your time, Lady. The night is yet young. But I do wonder though, what kind of friends would a sword wielding noble have at a party such as this? And what faces would she hope to meet by wayward chance?"
Up to now he had kept her at a respectfully chaste distance, but the return twirl brought her slightly closer to him for a moment and he instinctively inhaled her aroma.

In spite of his calm words his mind processed that perfumed scent and detected more, his mind did a double take and things began to click together for him.
Instincts he thought he had tamed and burried now flared up again and his whole body tensed in panic for a nearly imperceptible moment, also in that moment, if one caught his eyes at just the right angle in the light, the deep blue would flash feral gold. His teeth itching but there were no hidden fangs to extend.
That's the familiarity he saw in her, the grace of a predator he was once intimately familiar with, a part of, a part now gone but not quite... All gone...
 
His face was caught in a stretch of mourn, the long tendril of toffee and caramel lengthened with a limp. He looked at the tip of his finger, shaking off the sickly goo onto a stretch of old fabric, the whispering codes of magic hidden by the mundane. He gave a few empty blinks, processing the information. F... Food? Was I here for food? His grief stricken eyes turned to the toffee apple than back to the lady.

Yes?

He wasn't confident in his thought process, though he refused to let it show. He flicked his finger of the last strain of toffee sauce into the cobblestone a distance away. Running a finger against the same flicker of parchment. The final word was covered as it hovered with the faint scent of magic, the caramel toffee seeming to evaporate as the words spelled out in ancient and nigh unkowable runes as he brushed himself off. "Oh cool. So there isn't a limit?" He queried absently slowly rising and dusting his knees of a little gathered dust and dirt. "So, was that two for you or two between us?" He continued his words lingered at the end and dragged out happy to follow along. If he was lucky she might add an air of authenticity to him being here.

He followed along halfway obediently. Even though he was clearly an older man just shy into his thirties he still held that common wonderlust no different to a young child might have, eyes caught with speckles of grandeur, an unrelenting tide of energy and of course the characteristic inability to act appropriately no matter how low the decorum might be.
"So. What brought you out here?" He asked sincerely, there was almost a sense of propriety if only the way he walked and talked didn't show with the clarity of a clean river his ineptitude in the courts. "I came for the free food. Stayed for the free booze." He continued, trying to maintain some air of conversation. "Though I'll admit. The wine doesn't seem to great. Little bitter for me." He had to bite his tongue. Unlike the last woman who he was nothing more than a verbal maelstrom to, this one actually seemed interested in dialogue.
 
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At first, she had thought he hadn't noticed her, so intent he was at mourning the loss of the sticky sweet treat. But after what seemed a beat of final sorrow for the forgotten treat, shaking her head at mention of a limit. "No, I don't think so," came the mildly amused reply. For now, this oddly-dressed stranger was an enigma, and despite his being perhaps a few years older than herself, he seemed almost childlike in his wonderment. It was oddly refreshing against the usual well-mannered crew. She didn't mind a gentleman treating her as a lady... but it was interesting that this man forgot social strata, for she was very certain he wasn't one of the members of the Keep.

She'd remember that face just about anywhere, as animate as he was. A small smile touched her lips, offering her arm to him. "I meant one for each of us, but I suppose if you desire two I'll leave that up to your discretion."

Watching him be so fascinated by all the wealth, the displays, the colors and the crush was... lovely. For a moment she was insulated from everything else, talking to a fascinating man who was educated somehow... she would have guessed a spellcaster of some kind, if even the vaguest hint of fashion sense had any indication to go by.

It was then she realized he had asked a question, and in reply she merely gave a light, one-shouldered shrug. "Curiosity, for the most part," she admitted, eyes flicking between him and to the woman who had been staring at her before. A small prickle of... some sense... flared to life, but for now she brushed it aside with a sweep of her gaze, glancing back up towards her companion.

Another short chuckle slipped her lips at his blatant stating being here for free things, she nodded, then leaned to give him a conspiratorial whisper.

"Truth be told, I am as well. Don't tell anyone." Blue eyes began to warm ever so slightly from their frosty cold, and even a faint warmth seemed to touch stony features. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Well, the Lord providing the wine was never in the best of taste," she replied, attempting to stifle a smile behind her hand. "Perhaps a Rosenstern wine would make up for their lack of sweet palate?" she inquired with an air of innocence, brown head tilted slightly.

Farzad Oldsummer
 
The dance was quite enjoyable. Dare she say it, she was actually having fun, and she hadn’t even eaten anyone yet. Tzuriel’s words were as smooth as his feet, and he met her confidence with strength of his own.

”I would expect no such retreat, a man must follow through, as I’m sure you’d agree.” She spun out in a tight twirl and enjoyed feeling her dress tug at her sides as it flared out before she was swept back into his arms. A few rogue strands of fiery hair fell out of place and down over her eye.

Suddenly he reacted to… something. The flash in his eyes was surely a trick of the light… was it not? There was something off about him… yes his blood beckoned to her but it didn’t smell as sweet as it should. Her eyes narrowed just the barest amount in her reply. ”A noble ought to have friends in many places, and should fate twist my path towards someone of…” she stepped in so that their cheeks nearly touched, ”...kindred interests… I would not waste the opportunity.”

The music finished in a bold crescendo, and they ended their dance with a deep dip. As Victoria was lifted back to her feet, she gave Tzuriel the customary curtsey. She could not place why, but this man felt like an ally. Curious. ”Forgive me, my Lord, for my rudeness in not introducing myself properly. I am Victoria O’Connor, Lady of Greyrock Castle east of the Reach.”

Another quick glance to the side. She had managed to keep something of an eye on the lovely stranger, but it seemed she had engaged in conversation with… who in the hell was that? His dress was absurd, so he was either so wealthy that his appearance no longer mattered, or he was quite mad.

”Do you know that woman?” she inquired of her dancing partner. ”And who is that… ‘man’ she is talking to?”
 
He thought he didn't miss a beat, but he obviously had let himself slip and inwardly grimaced without changing his neutral expression. Often the more one tries to hide something the more attention they draw to it, as a merchant Tzuriel was aware of this and prided himself on his ability to keep secrets in spite of this, but in his moment of recognition and barely suppressed panic his guard had slipped... And now she was in.

But what was more, she all but outright confirmed his fears by her whispered comment close to his ear, a move that sent a thrill down his spine yet froze his blood.
”A noble ought to have friends in many places, and should fate twist my path towards someone of…” she stepped in so that their cheeks nearly touched, ”...kindred interests… I would not waste the opportunity.”
A vampire, and a powerful one.
He himself had spent only two years as a vampire and during that time he felt his power grow by leaps and bounds... He could only imagine how old she must be to hide this much power as what he could now recognize almost radiating from her body.
His whispered response was carefully controlled, but his voice shook.
"Kindred... Once upon a time."

He dipped her towards the end of their dance, this of course brought them even closer and quickened his pulse.
Ever since his encounter and relationship with House Nocterose and all that transpired he could never make up his mind about what he felt towards vampires. His dealings with the vampire world ever since, though rare, both excited him and sent his heart plummeting to his stomach. A man of danger himself he was enticed by the danger of dealing with such creatures, but something else about such creatures always made him shudder.

As the music ended and he answered her curtsey with a bow she introduced herself which finally brought him back to reality.
A lady with her own castle. Of course her being a vampire explained many things, being a competent woman not the least of it, wielding a sword was simple necessity if what he's seen of vampire politics was any explanation.

He bowed to her once more and kissed her ring in homage to her status. He highly doubted that she was anything but a sovereign ruler of her castle and land.
"Tzuriel Alanthis, of the Alanthis Trading Company. At your service, my lady."
He straightened and managed a sly smirk, "I didn't guess I was speaking with so distinguish a Lady... The rudeness is mine, unless you care to duel over it?"

He looked over at the lady and... gentleman... she indicated and asked about.
The lady he only knew through other contacts, partners and clients, though it might have been possible that they passed each other once in the halls of the merchant counsel.
"Divina Rosenstern, I believe. Recently added to the merchant counsel and quite successful and ambitious by all accounts. Though I've not had the pleasure to meet her personally."
He cordially offered his arm while they left the dance floor and cleared his throat.
"As for the gentleman... I don't think I've ever met him. He could be a rising business man here in Alliria, but your guess is as good as mine."

By this point he had somewhat recovered his wits. He turned and smiled at her fondly, if not a little disappointed that he couldn't attract more of her time and attention in non-business related ways. A sovereign lady of a castle, vampire or not, was a busy woman.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her once more.
"It was truly a pleasure, Lady O'Connor... And my deepest gratitude for sparing your precious time for my inflated ego. I hope later that we can speak more. I'm sure my company can bring much profit to your land if you're willing."
 
There was a moment. His eyes flickered narrowed and squinted, he could feel it he sensed it and he embraced it. Eyes fell on him but not those of courtesans. They were predators to him like a wasp to a tarantula. A threat, but nothing life threatening. There was something in this dance that wasn't here to tap around but to tango. Something he put at the back of his mind as he turned to the damsel, he gave a cheerful smile as he tapped his elbow on Divinia.

There was an oblivious few seconds on his part.
"Oh shoot right we're in a dance thing." He stated after he had walked a few steps, he backtracked his every motion as he took their arm in kind, pulling out a single sliver of a scarf from around his elbow and offered it to them. Incorrectly, the thing hanged loose in his hand, the lettering pointed downwards as unkowable glyphs whispered nothings into his hand. "For the l... Ma... Which do you prefer title wise? Do you lot here go by Lady, Madam, Damsel? Or is there like a secret cabal language you lot have going on?" He asked, he struggled to keep pace with the woman, his unbridled energy keeping him always stopping and starting his footfall, "Oh and by the by I'm still famished so, I vote. We just take three." He spoke as if he had just come up with an ingenious scheme. He was proud of it nonetheless. Quickly, it didn't take long for that sense of pride, to be overcome with a sense of joy.

He tapped the side of his nose twice, eyes closed as he gave a nod of solidarity, "Secret's safe with me. Take it to the crypts and back." He replied, taking some solidarity that maybe he wasn't the only person here to just steal food for the road "Won't tell a soul that you someone with actual taste rather than fabricated pleasantry." He had been watching people scull and somehow enjoy the stuff most of the night, tapping the middle of his lip with a finger he contemplated. Rosenstern... Have I? Yes... No... Maybe? Try it? Maybe... No... No... But also yes... His contemplation no different to a child being told to choose between the red spinning top or the green spinning top when really he wanted the blue spinning top. "I... Hmmm don't think I've drank the stuff. Does it pair well with two toffee apples?" He asked with whimsy and a touch of concern.
 
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She couldn't help the laugh that parted from her lips now as he bumped elbows with her, seeming to forget a few paltry seconds where they were. Like him, she was aware of the feeling of eyes, of voices... but it was expected. She was used to the stares, the whispers. The talk behind her back, as though she were stupid enough to not notice. As though she were insipid enough to care if they thought of her in any favor at all.

She wasn't here for favors, she was here to observe from her own sociable distance. It helped her companion was so far from the norm of this crush, that he kept others from a distance. She gave a small, private, and grateful smile when he asked of her title, and blue eyes glittered with humor past the frost.

"Lady Divina Rosenstern, at your service," she murmured to him, as though it was another secret for them to share. She walked slowly, patiently, with his continuous stop and start, allowing his own wild curiosity to lead them along. It was amusing to see someone so entranced with all here... there was a time not that long ago she might have held the same enthusiasm.

But so much bittered her against the finer things in the world, that she held little regard for them.

"It might, I've never tried before," she still smiled slightly, giving him a rare wink. "Perhaps we may find out together... if not, I might just endeavor to craft a wine that will pair with toffee apples, and name it after the man that inspired. And your name is...?" she asked, letting the question hang for him to answer at his own leisure.

However, they were being observed. She would take care not to look too overtly... but she could feel it as another prickle at the nape of her neck.

Farzad Oldsummer Victoria O'Connor Tzuriel Alanthis
 
Kindred… Once upon a time.

This answer was anything but clear. Being kin with her wasn’t exactly something people “got over.” The nearest she could figure was that perhaps he had been a human ally to her kind? If that were so, and he had left, it was a miracle he was alive. But no, that didn’t feel right.

She elected not to pry further. Secrets were worth more than gold here, and she would not expect him to give this one up easily. His bow was graceful, and she enjoyed his deferential kiss upon her hand. When he gave his name, however, it was her turn to be surprised.

She had heard of the Alanthis Trading Company, oh yes. To meet anyone involved in it here would have been wonderful, but Tzuriel Alanthis himself? And she had used his time to ask about another guest, how gauche.

Well, she couldn’t take that back, and luckily he thoroughly unoffended.

...The rudeness is mine, unless you care to duel over it?"

”Lord Alanthis, if your sword were as sharp as your tongue I would never stand a chance.” His lips were soft against her hand. Funny, he had not once remarked on the coldness of her skin. Men were usually so frustratingly predictable about that. “Oh, you poor dear, you will catch your death of cold. Oh, my lady, are you feeling well? Oh, let me warm you tonight.” Self-serving drivel.

She appreciated his help in identifying her initial quarry, although she did feel a pang of regret that she had disentangled herself from him so soon. Well, she couldn’t very well about-face right now, but she answered back, ”Don’t go too far, Tzuriel, I am very eager to discuss what your company can offer, and what Greyrock can provide to you.” She brushed a hand over his chest as she stepped past him. ”Besides, I could use a new dueling partner.”

She melted into the crowd, resolving to seek him out again before the night was over. Hopefully she had enticed him to do the same. For now, she focused on young Divina Rosenstern. A new member of the merchant counsel would be another powerful friend, but Victoria’s true motives were far less… innocent.

She tracked the pair. Lucky that the colorful gentleman was easy to pick out, a even luckier was that Lady Rosenstern had remained beside him. Unnatural red eyes gleamed over the heads of dancers to observe the two of them in utmost clarity. What were they discussing? What backroom deals were taking place? What… were they eating? She could not disguise bewilderment as she got closer. Toffee apples? Well… at least she knew Divina liked sweets…

”Excuse me,” she said when she had reached them, in as silken a voice as she could manage. ”Lady Rosenstern, my name is Victoria O’Connor, it is a pleasure to meet you,” she inclined her head in greeting before looking over at the truly bizarre fellow she was with. ”And… you are?”
 
The coldness of her skin all but escaped his radar, but he wasn't bothered nor surprised by it. He ran hot naturally and found this feature a desirable one among vampire kind... When it came to physical touch... Hell, why deny it? He's a degenerate when it comes to beautiful women and vampire women especially appealed to his sense of danger and excited him beyond belief.
Lenuta Nocterose was much the same and he cherished their time together, though he couldn't say what happened between them, they both simply went their separate ways.

Still, thinking honestly about it, he supposed the reason a cold sweat was forming on his brow at the presence of Victoria O'Connor was because being around a vampire again caused him to lose the careful control that he'd built up to suppress his feral urges, even though the physical needs of an undead existence were no longer there.

Even so, he remained cordial and tactful.
”Lord Alanthis, if your sword were as sharp as your tongue I would never stand a chance.”
"You give me too much credit, my Lady. The song of my elvish blade makes my wit seem dull and boring as a priests oration."

”Don’t go too far, Tzuriel, I am very eager to discuss what your company can offer, and what Greyrock can provide to you.” She brushed a hand over his chest as she stepped past him. ”Besides, I could use a new dueling partner.”
Her touch against his chest made his heart leap within him and he was certain she could feel it or sense it, though he couldn't decide whether it was from fear or excitement.
Barely recovering in time to respond to her back he almost stumbled over his words.
"Of... Of course my lady! As I said, 'the night is still young'. I look forward to speaking with you again."

As she walked away he wasted no time. Once she was out of sight he immediately made his way to a water basin and splashed cold water over his face, a mixed rush of panic and relief flooded through him and he took deep breaths to calm himself. It's been almost two years since his last encounter with a vampire, and suddenly he's all but completely lost it.
He spoke to himself to continue calming down.
"Pull yourself together Tzuriel... That was a different life... A different time..."

"Well, you look like you've seen a ghost, my Lord."
A familiar and concerned voice behind him brought Tzuriel back to earth again and he sighed as he looked at the wealthy merchant, ship captain, and friend, Ryado Eldemitri.
"Just something I thought I'd beaten, that's all... An old addiction."
His wise friend nodded compassionately.
"Well, don't hide behind the wine if something's getting to you, that's what you always told me, Tzuriel. Besides, I'd hate to remind you that we're supposed to be meeting a client here..."
Ryado pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.
"Nevermind, I can already tell... You DID forget! Well, just make sure you're... Personal issue... doesn't lose us another deal with a wealthy client."

Tzuriel waved him off as he wiped water off his face with a towel.
"I didn't forget, but I did find another potential client. A Sovereign client at that."
Ryado's eyebrows went up at this.
"I see! well then consider this a checkup to make sure you're on task, sir. The client's arrived and should be ready to meet with you once he's had a few drinks and a dance or two. I'll see you at the ship tomorrow evening."
With that the well dressed merchant captain weaved his way back into the crowd, leaving Tzuriel to himself again.
 
It all was going... Well?

Wait did she just wink?
Things don't go smoothly.

Things don't pan out.
What was my plan in all this?

He hovered a finger over the selection, if he drooled it was apparent from his eyes as they seemed to laud over each and every confectionery treat, the subtle colouration and saturation defined each treat. He had delved the deepest caverns, he had explored venerable ruins and had satiated his hunger for knowledge like kings on feasts of meat and spice. But he never found a cure to his insatiable sweet tooth. "Never tried wine, Toffee Apple or yes?" He inquired, he had taken his eyes off the fine lady to pursue the selection taking his time before picking out one of the toffee apples with refined fingerwork; an almost natural motion as he grabbed one between his ring and middle finger crossing them over like an incorrect vice trap as he offered it to the lady just as she asked the looming question.

His cheeks almost blushed, that's when his mind became a cacophony, a screaming no different to the noise one might find in a kitchen maned by nothing more than rough-housing orphans hyped up on overly saturated sugary sweets. Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit. His face became blocky and geometric, lip straightened flat, eyes lacking emotion minus passionate anxiety and his nose seemed to match his shoulders, proper, squared and defiantly rigid. He pursed his lips and moved in close for a whisper.

"Can you keep a se-"


It was ill-opportune timing, though he was lucky he caught sight of the approaching stranger. He was shocked for a second, his head dropped down like a puppy that had just been smacked on the nose. Which unfortunately, didn't bode well for him as he had already placed his face a little too close to the ladies ear than rapidly to her neck before a final faster moment more borne of propriety than anything else snapped him back to his stance; his hand stuck on a candied apple as it's sickly goo caught and made love to the fabric that it touched. No different to that one gelatinous cube he had found enchanted with hormones. And by found. He did of course mean made.

It was in this passing of fumbling that had dragged back to his disarming antics. A child without an idea or mind for those surrounding him. He raised his hand and looked at it. "Stuck." He stated to no-one in particular. He shook his arm a few times.
Nothing. He shook his arm some more. Still no progress. He had lost his attention on the duo for a few dull moments. He rose his leg high, pressed his left foot onto the apple and tried to turn his leg from awkwardly bent, to somehow more awkwardly straight.

”And… you are?” - Victoria O'Connor
This woman. Was quickly proving to provoke just the worst actions out of him, he spun around on a heel to look at her as he almost fell over before finally straightening his leg and plucking the toffee apple from the fabric. The force of his push though a little too strong, almost losing it into the crowd before a deft swing of his free arm caught the thing at the stick, bringing it close to his mouth before pausing. "Ahhhh I needa wash this." He stated to himself before shaking himself from his stupor of panic. He had time to think. He had time to react.

"I'm a King."

He could almost hear, the slow. Meandering. Clap.
 
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He suddenly stiffened, thus arrested from his own perusal of goods that left him looking rather like the dog that discovered a bone yard, and the sign said 'for free'. By the Gods, he even seemed to be drooling, his eyes large as saucers. And yet... at the query of a name, the childish joviality seemed to vanish, and she had the feeling of someone else beneath that face, behind those actions. Perhaps he was lighthearted, but he was not the sort of fool one should take lightly. He leaned in close.

Even from that distance, she could smell the sweetness of the toffee, with the acidic sweet tang of the apple from before, see the seriousness of his eyes as he leaned in close to her ear. She did not move immediately, but at once he seemed to droop almost into her, then snap back up.

At hearing 'Lady Rosenstern', she turned to address the new silken, velvety voice that almost purred to life aside her. At once, the smile was gone, and the light that once danced in blue eyes was masked by an austere, assessing stare. The woman was judged, thoroughly. Pearly skin.

Vibrant red hair.

Ruby lips.

A beauty that, in the dancing lights and ambient atmosphere of deepening night, would have allured many a young, dreaming soul to the depths of their deepest desires, and spin fantasies beyond their wildest, uninspired mental crafts. She did not know this woman, and the name was vaguely familiar, but she was more than certain she had never seen this woman within the Keep, nor of any of the crushes she typically deigned to attend.

"Victoria O'Connor..." she greeted with utmost politeness, giving a slight nod. "A pleasure, of course. A lady of such fine caliber to know my name... you flatter me," she replied coolly, releasing her partner's arm. It was when he spoke she registered he was there once more, and she glanced in his direction, stifling a smile that threatened to touch her lips at his own reply.

A king, hmm?

Blue eyes glittered with dangerous, almost Fey-like delight at his own statement, and she nodded along. "But of course. King Applewine, I think it will be called," she spoke coolly, but her lips twitched, as though sharing, for a brief span, a private joke.

But another person from before caught her attention. A man, whose importance in the Council she knew, and took great pains to be familiar with. He seemed shaken... but even through the crowds, he was a handsome visage, differing from even the well-dressed crush that surrounded them. She gazed at him a moment in contemplation, considering her own company, and the benefit of association to him. A plan began to form.

"Please excuse me, your Majesty, milady," she demurred, giving them both a warm, gracious smile. "I shall return momentarily." With that, she gave a small bow, and for the briefest of movements passing Victoria, she could sense it once more.

A coolness, one she hadn't felt since childhood.

She was slightly piqued... and tempted to stay. But only away for a moment.

Instead, she walked away with head held high, she approached him, allowing a deeper incline of the head. It would perhaps be only a minute or two of his time before he would be swarmed by other nobles, other Houses that would keenly desire his time and attention.

But just for now, she would permit herself the luxury of proper introductions at long last.

"Pardon me," she demurred, blue eyes settling to meet his with an intensity of study. "It is a pleasure to meet at last, sir. But you seem rather shaken, is now a bad time?"

The last part was spoken conspirationally, head inclined ever so slightly. "Pardon my rudeness, I did not wish to intrude while you were thus so engaged. But if you wish to join, I might turn the tide and ask for a dance?"

A bold step on her part, but the worst he could do was deny her. And if he denied, she had charming company to return to, and a beautiful woman for which she felt an odd attraction to.

Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, perhaps. But there was something of predatory beauty in the alluring tonight.

Farzad Oldsummer Tzuriel Alanthis Victoria O'Connor
 
Victoria made sure to savor every detail as Divina turned. Her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, her crystalline eyes dancing under the lanterns, how her skin had been blushed with just the finest hint color from the sanguine nectar below. Her dress was subtly adorned, with expert designs stitched into fabric that surely had cost more than some homes. Victoria enjoyed the necklace most of all, and she tried not to stare too long at Divina’s long and supple neck. She had no plans on marring such a lovely specimen this evening… but that did not mean she couldn’t imagine it.

The composed smile that graced Victoria’s lips was easy to maintain as Divina spoke, and the vampire felt very pleased with herself for finding such an enchanting creature to entertain herself with.

It did falter, though, as the multicolored man flailed about with his confection. A curl of her lip, small but visible, signalled her disdain, and when he spoke again she could do litter more than blink in response. Divina’s response rattled her even more. It must be a joke, but while the lady’s attitude was light and jovial, the man had seemed deadly serious. Why on Arethil such a prominent lady would spend her time in his company was beyond her.

And then, to her even greater disappointment, she left. Disarmed by Farzad’s antics, she watched the woman go in stunned silence. Surprise quickly melted into annoyance. No one snubbed her. She took a breath, smothering the flames before they had a chance to ignite. No, Divina was a busy and important woman. She would simply need to work harder for her attention. It was humbling.

Victoria did not like to be humbled...

...but she did like to hunt.

With eyes hooded in frustration, she slid them back over to the man who had just recently extricated himself from his apple. ”And… eh, where are you King of, exactly?”
 
Tzuriel rested against the stone basin while he collected his cool. It wasn't like him to be caught off guard so easily. Perhaps suppressing these flashes was a poor discipline choice on his part, he was better off accepting that he was forever tainted by his past affliction and this was the price he must pay. Once he accepted that it would be easier to integrate it into his normal self, thus slowly minimizing it and taking away it's power to cause such a reaction to external triggers in the future.

He took a deep breath, but when he opened his eyes after a moment the last face he thought he would see was that of Divina Rosenstern!
Hadn't Lady O'Connor just left to speak with her? What happened?
He was visibly surprised to see her as she introduced herself officially, but when she asked about him his surprise faded to a look of self contemplation.
"It is a pleasure to meet at last, sir. But you seem rather shaken, is now a bad time?"
He shook his head and gave her a kind smile as he stood to greet her.
"Ah, there could never be a bad time to finally meet you face to face, Lady Rosenstern. I admit that I was contemplating a tactful moment to approach you at some point tonight, but you've beaten me to the punch!"
He gave her an appraising look, finally having the opportunity to see her in more than passing.
He enjoyed the coolness of the vampiric touch, but there was an expected quality to the undead scions. It nearly went without saying that the vampire woman would be strong, powerful, cunning, and lethal. But there was something so unexpected and admirable about a competent human woman who's achieved great things in spite of whatever human frailty or bias that stood against them.
It sparked admiration within him, a rare condition for Tzuriel who's merchant senses have honed an eye for quality.

"Pardon my rudeness, I did not wish to intrude while you were thus so engaged. But if you wish to join, I might turn the tide and ask for a dance?"
He waved away her apologies. "At this point I am all but convinced that women have a sixth sense that tells them when someone is unwell and in need of company. While it's rare for a lady to do the asking, I humbly accept your invitation to a dance and ask that you excuse any rudeness on my part."
He was in a rare mood of blunt honesty, but decided not to check himself on it, he got the sense that Divina was far more gracious than rumor led one to believe.
"I hope I don't seem too eager, but I'm truly not in the best of head spaces right now and would greatly value your company for a time, as short or as long as you wish. As equals?"
He offered her his elbow to escort her to the dance circle.
 
Ahhh much better. That's more or less what I expected. He mused to himself as the lady departed his company, only to be replaced by someone who from the language of the duo demanded more respect. If only Farzad knew how to speak such a language. He gave a roll of his hand, flourishing and twisting into an open palmed air high five. "We will discuss the contract when you are able." He replied, following along with the flow of her jest. All right King Applewine. Time to not get caught. His train of thought continued as he looked at his ruined toffee apple. He was about to turn and cool it off in a bath from one of the wine's when he was struck again.

”And… eh, where are you King of, exactly?” - Victoria O'Connor
He was in it now. He grabbed one of the cups of wine and poured the liquid over his toffee apple as he looked to the lady. "Nowhere in particular. Well, not in particular on the map." Unlike before, he had became calm in his speech, his words cooing with the familiarity of a rehearsed speech. Just don't lie. That was the golden rule for lying. Simply don't.

Instead. He almost went on the offensive.
"Though you know, I thought it was like. What's it called here a faux pas to not wish them a farewell?" Farzad carried on, his toffee apple coated and dripped staining wine from it's body, dripping onto the floor with overflow as he took careful measure, twirling the apple as he looked at Victoria. "But she seems pretty nice. I'm sure she'll be back..." He paused before looking over the vampiress' shoulder, peering at where she had found her company. "Aw drat. She found a cute guy." He stated absently before sticking the bittered treat into his mouth, rolling it between tongue and gums a with a few lackadaisical rolls. "So like. What's your deal? What's brought you to this place of stuffed collars and wedged pantaloons?" He discourteously probbed. His eyes doing the same as he paid attention to her features. Man this lady is pale. Scarily pale. He almost instantly noted, in the meantime running a finger under his nose and giving a sniffle. Man hope this sheila don't give me whatever she's got. He thought with unassuming innocence.
 
She had to admit, part of her enjoyed the oddly-dressed stranger and his blunt directness. The whimsical attitude, the lack of pretending to be someone they weren't... apart from the name, of course. And the woman. She knew her attitude was rude, and no doubt the woman felt suitably snubbed. But this gave her a timely grace to gain some information from the femme before the night was over, and these parties were long affairs. Even for little Ladies' birthdays. She had already given her greetings and blessings to the hosting family, as far as she was concerned she had the entire night to her own devices.

"Ah, there could never be a bad time to finally meet you face to face, Lady Rosenstern. I admit that I was contemplating a tactful moment to approach you at some point tonight, but you've beaten me to the punch!"

She chuckled once, giving a slight incline of her head. "Let it never be said I haven't been blessed with prodigal timing on occasion," she demurred, noting the few trickles of water that lingered on his jaw, a drop of damp upon his outfit. He seemed pale, paler than would be the norm, and though he seemed the epitome of gentlemanly elegance...

"I hope I don't seem too eager, but I'm truly not in the best of head spaces right now and would greatly value your company for a time, as short or as long as you wish. As equals?"

Ah, now that made more sense. Once more, cool blue eyes regarded him, beneath the faint smile lingering on full lips, there was assessment, judgement. He was already proven satisfactory by word of mouth alone, but he was even gracious to identify them as equals, even though in the name of social standing he outranked her. Such a nod brought a rare warmth into those eyes, and she lightly rested her arm with his, awareness trickling through. She knew they were being watched; to advantage, of course. He had proven worthy in her own judgement thus far; a difficult feat.

"Always as equals," she agreed, nodding once. "Though never fear, I won't tell a soul of any trouble on your behalf." A slight conspirational smile. She was teasing him now; she leaned in slightly, her voice a low, hushed murmur between them. "So long as you don't tell a soul I forgot to bring a birthday present," she replied quietly, in an attempt to alleviate the gloom that seemed to weigh on his shoulders.

It was worth an attempt, at least.

Tzuriel Alanthis Farzad Oldsummer Victoria O'Connor
 
His answer, in keeping with the theme, was nonsensical. A king of nowhere? Or had he meant everywhere? He had said nowhere in particular. Oh, why was she even trying to understand him? He had just poured a glass of wine over his apple, splattering the expensive drink over the cobblestones and missing the hem of her gown by a slim margin.

Like his newly drenched treat, Victoria’s face positively dripped with disdain. Was he a jester hired to entertain the birthday girl? A vagrant who had somehow wandered past security? The situation was baffling.

"Though you know, I thought it was like. What's it called here a faux pas to not wish them a farewell?"

Her lips pursed together and she shot daggers at him with her eyes. Usually this look was enough to remind someone of their manners, but it did not seem to work on him. If he noticed he made no change to his behavior. He moved on before she could comment.

"So like. What's your deal? What's brought you to this place of stuffed collars and wedged pantaloons?"

”What is my deal?” She repeated, as if speaking the words aloud would make them more palatable. It didn’t, and his utter lack of tact was grinding on her nerves so deeply she would soon feel it in her bones.

”I am here to enjoy an evening amongst the city’s finest citizens. I belong here.”

She should have left, she should have found someone more deserving of her company but… damn it this man was too bizarre to ignore. Where had he actually come from? What were his motives? Why had Divina been wasting her time with him?

She calmed herself, it would do no good to be needlessly cruel. ”Why have you come all the way to Alliria, your ‘majesty?’” If any of her servants breathed a word of this there would be hell to pay.
 
"Though never fear, I won't tell a soul of any trouble on your behalf."
He couldn't stop the grin from reaching his eyes even though his mouth remained passive.
"Ahh, that's no fun. At least let me fear a little for my reputation to keep my devilish side in check."

"So long as you don't tell a soul I forgot to bring a birthday present,"
Her tactic worked, Tzuriel couldn't help but chuckle no matter how gloomy a mood he had worked himself into. Her teasing made him smile and tension left his shoulders that he didn't realize had gathered there.
Her closeness was pleasant, even as she whispered her jest to him. He whispered back to her.
"I think we're both guilty of that one. Lord Legkaart already sent the lady a package of his finest toys and puzzles, it would have been in poor taste to purchase something of his craft and gift it to the young lady. I debated on a particular book, but I'm a poor judge of what youth in this age would enjoy."
As they moved to the dance floor a slower tune was being played and he turned and positioned his hands appropriately on his partner, since they were already close and within whispering distance he didn't change that distance unless she made any move to do so herself. He easily stepped into rhythm with the gentle music, once in his element he let his own blue gaze meet hers unashamed.

"The rumors don't do you justice, my lady. Tell me, are you so shrewd around everyone? Or am I special in some way?"
Of course being a man of trade deeply rooted in Alliria he was well aware of the rumors spread along the grapevine, tales that would never be repeated in front of the person in question.
The Black Widow of the keep.
Whether the stories were true or not was another matter. She knew exactly how to drop the veil of courtly behavior to speak plainly or even in jest almost seamlessly without betraying herself to any but those she intended.

Her ambition was well known to all but Tzuriel wondered how deeply that ambition ran, and ultimately how far it would carry her. He didn't know or concern himself much with her approach to the trade; merchants often competed with each other for the best deals, the best prices, the best quality of goods, it's how the free market survived even amid the outrageous restrictions of the trade city itself.
But as far as he could tell his company had never gone head to head with her family over products, as a well known distributor of goods he may have even brought some of their goods to other markets before.

As they danced he wondered about her now. She was on the merchant counsel, which was often an end-all for many in the trade, but he hoped that she was reaching for more. That's why he was never on the counsel himself, but his word still held a heavy weight in their dealings, especially when it effected aspects of Alanthis Trade and Co.
He still spoke quietly to her, but mostly to preserve the mood of the slow music.
"You're an admirable woman. Competent people are rare in the trade business. You've gone far in such a short time and have such a drive about you, I like that."