02-12-2026, 08:10 PM
MARVEET. The relief of finally connecting the dots was palpable. It wasn’t any particular resemblance to Scion which finally conjured the memory, just a sudden recollection of the research she had done prior to the masquerade – and the annoying buzz of music producer, music producer humming through her mind like an electric current. Scion was elevated the same night as Jessika, so of course she’d spent time investigating his family tree. Which was quite effusive as it happened. Including an Ezvin. Who was a music producer.
And there is was: the connection which had been nagging at her since Artskaf.
She was back at the Radiance by then, wrapped up in a fluffy hotel robe, fresh from the shower (where she did all her best thinking), and half way through a sudoku puzzle book she’d picked up from the airport. The satisfaction was regrettably short-lived. Loose end time was not Lore’s favourite thing, and the sooner she had something concrete in Moscow to get her teeth into the better. She tried to think of it as a sort of extended vacation in the meantime, but honestly she was bored.
There were still several hours before her evening plans with the aforementioned Marveet and Cadence, though she’d scheduled a solitary dinner in the hotel restaurant before that. Some risks were worth taking, but not the one presented by “erotic candyfloss.” The idea still wrinkled her nose.
She was checking her calendar and cross-referencing an immaculate list of memos when she realised something that had actually escaped her attention. When Damien had failed to attend his own coronation, Lore had called him. Granted, Damien had said he wasn’t going, but no small part of her had still expected him to show like the insouciant lazy lion he was. Politically speaking his absence seemed a little pointed, especially since the Ascendancy himself had been there, but he’d assured her in a blase way that he was sending a delegate to take care of his concerns in DI. Lore wasn’t part of his administration and he didn’t offer detail. Sometimes he still spoke to her like the little shadow who’d followed him around as a child. Indulgent, a little annoyed, far too charming for his own good. Entirely magnetic.
It always annoyed her when she realised it. How she was still hanging on his every word even after all these years. So she’d scribbled herself a note and cut the call short with the excuse that Jessika had needed her.
Annoyed with herself now, Lore counted the days since the ball, and realised the delegate was already here. Probably for weeks! It wasn’t her job to welcome them, but it was courtesy to at least make an introduction. With five minutes work she had a name she recognised. Lore was aware in a peripheral sense that Matías was the offspring of a large criminal (former) enterprise, but since Damien himself had spent a considerable amount of time in San Quentin it wasn’t a metric she generally used for judging character. Matías had been the one to steer her gently away from Lord Gregory’s attentions, and soon after Lore had found herself carted off to Texas and into Jessika’s orbit, where she’d remained since. Possibly Matías would not recall her name. Lore was quite used to being unremembered. But a little bit of embarrassment rarely stopped her.
Within fifteen minutes she had called, invited him to dinner, adjusted her reservation with the restaurant, and sent Cadence a message to warn her she would possibly be bringing someone later.
Which still left…
… three hours and twenty-six minutes before she needed to be anywhere.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
And there is was: the connection which had been nagging at her since Artskaf.
She was back at the Radiance by then, wrapped up in a fluffy hotel robe, fresh from the shower (where she did all her best thinking), and half way through a sudoku puzzle book she’d picked up from the airport. The satisfaction was regrettably short-lived. Loose end time was not Lore’s favourite thing, and the sooner she had something concrete in Moscow to get her teeth into the better. She tried to think of it as a sort of extended vacation in the meantime, but honestly she was bored.
There were still several hours before her evening plans with the aforementioned Marveet and Cadence, though she’d scheduled a solitary dinner in the hotel restaurant before that. Some risks were worth taking, but not the one presented by “erotic candyfloss.” The idea still wrinkled her nose.
She was checking her calendar and cross-referencing an immaculate list of memos when she realised something that had actually escaped her attention. When Damien had failed to attend his own coronation, Lore had called him. Granted, Damien had said he wasn’t going, but no small part of her had still expected him to show like the insouciant lazy lion he was. Politically speaking his absence seemed a little pointed, especially since the Ascendancy himself had been there, but he’d assured her in a blase way that he was sending a delegate to take care of his concerns in DI. Lore wasn’t part of his administration and he didn’t offer detail. Sometimes he still spoke to her like the little shadow who’d followed him around as a child. Indulgent, a little annoyed, far too charming for his own good. Entirely magnetic.
It always annoyed her when she realised it. How she was still hanging on his every word even after all these years. So she’d scribbled herself a note and cut the call short with the excuse that Jessika had needed her.
Annoyed with herself now, Lore counted the days since the ball, and realised the delegate was already here. Probably for weeks! It wasn’t her job to welcome them, but it was courtesy to at least make an introduction. With five minutes work she had a name she recognised. Lore was aware in a peripheral sense that Matías was the offspring of a large criminal (former) enterprise, but since Damien himself had spent a considerable amount of time in San Quentin it wasn’t a metric she generally used for judging character. Matías had been the one to steer her gently away from Lord Gregory’s attentions, and soon after Lore had found herself carted off to Texas and into Jessika’s orbit, where she’d remained since. Possibly Matías would not recall her name. Lore was quite used to being unremembered. But a little bit of embarrassment rarely stopped her.
Within fifteen minutes she had called, invited him to dinner, adjusted her reservation with the restaurant, and sent Cadence a message to warn her she would possibly be bringing someone later.
Which still left…
… three hours and twenty-six minutes before she needed to be anywhere.
It was going to be a long afternoon.