Snippet #1513709

Taylor Estate

Taylor gratefully accepted her concerns. "Well, Loki. I know how temperamental you can be." He replied. He left the cup of tea to stew, as he had imbibed copious amounts upstairs along with the meal his maids insisted on forcing down his throat. That was the thing if you ruled the household with a velvet hand- servants tend to be more vocal, but he knew the maids were only looking out for his health. He gave her a pointed look. The Princess, even now, never really did make house calls unless she had more than one reason to do so- and at least one of those reasons had to be of somewhat importance. His suspicions were answered when she asked about the implications of taking the cure Vanderbilt had created.

He chuckled. "What other choice did I have, now? I'm sure, that someday the Gray man on his horse will come back for me because I defied him. At the very least, I will then be strong enough to resist him instead of being on all fours and retching my innards out." His voice grew slightly bitter, but Taylor wasn't a man that could maintain that voice. It sounded more like self depreciation rather than cynicism. He hardly used such crude language, but it was a casual talk amongst friends- and he considered that the only time when he could drop this facade. Taylor wasn't the smartest man, and he certainly wasn't the strongest- so he studied hard and worked more than most nobles to retain his guise of intelligence.

Seeing Loki so angry that day had definitely spooked him. Though he didn't realize it at the time, it spoke of just how concerned she was for his health- and how she respected it even though she thought he was "killing himself". It was also why Taylor trusted her completely. It was an old man thing- despite the noble's relative youth. Like his own open honesty, he could decipher others. A trick often used by members of Parliament, "misused" if it was in his opinion.

"I am mending. I hope to be able to perform more activities by the end of the week. Sadly, the physician told me I had let myself rot for a little longer than he would have liked. Of course, I have to be here. For him, for you, for everyone else. You may be smarter and more powerful than I can hope to be, but you still lack experience." Even the dullest person would have caught on that he wouldn't live as long as most people, even with the disease banished from his body. "I feel like an old fogey saying that." He added, smiling. He picked the cup up delicately, and downed the entire cup so the maids wouldn't berate him again.

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Assassin's Guild

The common treatment for infected wounds can be carried out in various ways, but can be very difficult without the proper antibiotic trea- Suddenly, the girl's sixth sense picked up, her hair standing on end. It never usually meant anything- the young lady had become so paranoid even Etzel has to ask her to calm down. The masked doctor's most recent attempt in pressing away the paranoia was working- as she wasn't flipping out on every man that happened to be holding something sharp, blunt, long, or short. She looked up from the shadow of her hat to see the young lady she was observing early to be right over her.

"Glashkov?" She asked, piquing Victoria's interest. Didn't assassins read these books? Or rather, were they not as multifunctional as she had thought? Well, her master seemed more focused on medicine than actual fighting. That would explain.

Maybe it was a ploy? A plan to draw her in before she planted a knife in her neck? No, no way- not here? She had her master's permission. Before she could go further and start talking to herself again, she quashed the anxious feeling and looked up with a wistful grin. "Glashkov indeed." She replied. "Yeah, I don't live here- Otherwise I'd have one of those snazzy suits you're wearing." She marked her place in the book, and closed it.

"I don't see many people like you around here, though." She commented. "Nothing like a fellow girl here to calm the nerves- everyone here makes me feel so stupid!" She extended a hand to the girl.