Snippet #1471711

Amon regarded Taylor neutrally in the wake of his coughing fit. That certainly explained the earlier remark about timing. "Contrary to the impression I may have given, I do not make a habit of telling Loki things that she neither knows to ask for nor needs to know. I would however, recommend that you do not keep your own silence for much longer. It can only prove a detriment to your cause if you do not disclose what might become an obstacle to future plans," he pointed out adroitly. "However, I hardly think it my job to assure your success, so I will not press the point."

Pausing for a moment, Amon stood, collecting his sword from the ground and reattaching it to his side. "You have my thanks for your assistance, Lord Taylor. Though I myself am loath to be thought of as an errand-runner, my charge does occasionally forget this, and so I ask that you meet us in the Princess's receiving room this evening. The pieces of Goldwater's murder are being assembled, so to speak, and she believes you should know of it, should you have any wish to." The Guildmaster's tone conveyed very subtly, but clearly, that he might have been more inclined to leave Taylor out of the loop, but perhaps that was simply his ingrained penchant for secrecy talking. The fewer people who kept a confidence, the better, but this was Loki's affair as well as his own, and she had insisted.

-=-

Black-cloaked assassins were stationed around the palace, and each had been given a very specific directive: find a particular person and bring them to the proper room, with as few words as possible. Another man had been sent to the train station that terminated at the Nexus, better to guide the healer who should be approaching from that direction. All would be in possession of the same seal that had graced the letters the people in question had received, and would expect that to stem the tide of questions. All would be led to a room on the south side of the massive building, the guards posted along the way mysteriously unconcerned with their presence (a deft change of the watch schedule to include most of the Guild members with positions in the Palace Guard).

-=-
The Royal Palace

Loki sat with Amon to her left, an empty chair to her right, at a surprisingly humble table. She'd considered the possibility of using the throne room, or at least something marginally more impressive in terms of authority, but had decided that ultimately, any of that would be counterproductive. she was disinclined to sit upon her mother's throne, anyway, a mixture of loyalty and apprehension greater than she could name made the thought most unpalatable indeed.

She still could have staged the room a bit more, but she had not. All she wanted from these people at present were answers, and she knew that at least a few of them would be much more likely to give her those if she approached this as diplomatically as possible. She had a feeling that each of the people she had summoned had a vital piece of information, some of which she knew, others she did not. The important thing was placing them all together to see if they might somehow intuit connections with their own memories and knowledge.

The room itself was warm in feel, decorated primarily in rich reds and brown. It didn't have as many books as her office proper, but there were still a few shelves along one wall, but the space was currently predominated by the cherry-wood table at which she was stationed, and the evenly-sized chairs scattered around it. The Princess was out of her attire from earlier that afternoon and back in formal dress, but unlike before, she wore her weapons openly about her waist. the contrast amused her, and perhaps it would lend some variety of credence to her intent, should any of her guests prove better-assuaged with an assurance of the ability to act through more than one channel, so to speak.

Of course, there was also the distinct possibility that someone would prove hostile, and she wished to dissuade all such inclinations as much as possible without the necessity of bloodying her carpet.

-=-
The Nexus- Estate of David Gilgamesh

The one-eyed assassin eyed the red-haired nobleman with something approaching distaste. He sometimes wished someone else were both unscrupulous and stupid enough to utilize the unique service that he and his men offered, and would hire him to be rid of the vermin at the desk, but alas... it was unlikely he would like them any more than this one anyway.

It mattered little. The coin he was earning this way was more than enough to blind him to any manner of depravity, and at least Gilgamesh's was directed solely at his enemies, be they real or perceived. Azazel had no idea just how throughly he was being played like the five-stringed lute; it was almost laughable. Oh certainly, the little rebel was charismatic and passionate, but he lacked the real subtlety that Gilgamesh had, and for that reason, he would lose every time.

"Do it," the Duke ordered flatly, and the one-eyed man bowed silently before leaving, making a gesture interpretable only to the men he had hidden on the premises.