The scraping of the cutlery against various glass plate was one of the many things that had the power to completely wake up Rosalynde on the days her body didn't want to get up from bed, spurring her thoughts till all she could do was to let her feet touch the cold floor, the fire raging inside the fireplace always died before she woke up every day.
On these days she liked taking things slow, striving to achieve more than the usual perfection she'd been accustomed to.
It could go with braiding her hair in more complicated hairstyles, or maybe picking out a more extravagant set of jewelry she'd bought while accompanying Pharah around the High Strands the few times she secretly snuck out of the palace.
The possibilities were endless, and the one she'd opted to use today had been braiding her hair with little black beads, which intertwined with her hair made them look like small black stars coming out of her hair.
Another thing she always made sure to do was dress up herself without people wandering around her room, as the only time she took her gloves on was before going to sleep, only to put them back on again after finishing preparing herself in front of the mirror.
She didn't mind the scars all over her hands, for those were the undeniable proof attesting that she'd made it out alive.
"You didn't come to my room at dawn, had to suffer the tedious attempt of the maids trying to strike a conversation with me." Pharah said as Rosalynde entered the apparent heir's private study.
Rosalynde curtseyed with one leg, crossing the right behind the left one as the imperial etiquette hand book had taught her.
"Impeccable curtsey I must say, maybe even better than mine," Pharah commented soon after telling Rosalynde to stand up.
"That's because most of the time you're the one receiving the greeting, not the one making it." Rosaynde replied before sitting on one of the couches that were mainly used by Pharah when receiving guests. Rosalynde, unlike the others, didn't need permission to sit down, that mannerism between the two of them had already been swept under the rug a long time ago.
Pharah muttered something to the four winds before getting up from her seat, telling Rosalynde to scoot over so that they could share the same couch.
She'd brought some papers with her, spreading them on the table as she took out a pencil from behind her ear.
"In your opinion, how should I arrange Lord Hestre and Lady Jedrì? They are soon to be engaged but I've heard rumors saying that those two hate each other," Pharah sighed in frustration as she turned to look at Rosalynde.
Rosalynde who'd already started regretting taking a single step into the study, despite having gotten in less than two minutes before the downfall of the situation could only give her master a mocking smile in return.
Pharah mimicked the mocking smile of her attendant, threatening to pop an eyeball with the barely sharp pencil if cooperation would have been denied from the latter.
"Don't tell me you called me in for this idiotic, burocratic seat-arranging meeting because two idiots can't stand being in the same room," Rosalynde threated, doing it while keeping her taunting smile in check.
"Why? Didn't you swear you would have accommodated every single childish whim of mine," Pharah reminded her of the oath she'd taken years ago on the day she'd been invested with honor of being the one-and-only attendant to the crown princess of their empire.
A lady-in-waiting that would have accompanied the princess everywhere her heart desired by day, to then switch tasks at night, making the two aspects of her life alternate themselves every day.
"Do you think he'll come?" Pharah asked, the question making Rosalynde lean back so that her shoulders could rest against the couch.
"If he values his life then I say yes," Rosalynde replied with a hint of frustration.
"How did you find him?" But Steel didn't know how to reply to that question.
Hector Grey was a lot of things, each one more dangerous than the other, a ticking grenade full of himself that seemed to see past every single lie she'd thrown at him to not male him uncover who she really was.
A great asset if brough to their side, but a dangerous opponent to take out of the game if he would have not cooperated with them.
Another pawn like him would have been difficult to recruit, and after Haywire the Apostles couldn't permit themselves to lose another entering member.
There was something in his eyes, something that she couldn't put her scarred finger on. He'd been so calm during their whole conversation, his eyes constantly drawing her in, just like a tide of pure black washing over her ready to pull her under the surface of the water.
"Well then, let's hope for his own good that he'll make the right choice, for the glory of the Rowlian Empire, and for the honor of my family as well." Rosalynde could only nod at that statement, silently exiting the room as she instructed the guards to leave the princess alone, ordering to make no one enter until her highness would have opened the office doors herself.
꧁꧂
Rosalynde shut the book she was reading with a loud thud as a maid bearing the news she'd been waiting all day finally came knocking at her study, nearly knocking on the floor the cup of vanilla tea she'd made for herself, standing up from to check if there was something around the room that he could have used against her, she sat once more on couch she'd settled in a few hours before to kill the few hours she'd been given to rest.
Hector Grey had come.
Checking the clock, she turned around and asked the maid to bring him there, pouring herself a new cup of tea after finishing the one she'd nearly spilled on the two hundred year old carpet she'd bought a few years ago at an audition she'd been ordered to investigate, acting as a noble lady from the countryside that'd come to the capital to try her luck in love.
She made sure to keep her shoulder and back straight as the same maid from before announced the arrival of the esteemed guest she'd been dreading to meet.
"Lady Steel." Were the first words that came out of Grey's lips as he stepped into the room, thanking the maid for being such a kind guide before asking her to leave them alone.
"Sir Grey, thank you for coming. Tea?" Rosalynde asked with her usual contained smile as Grey kept standing, a cheerful smile playing on his lips.
"No, but thank you for thinking about me," this exchange of greetings sounded all but pleasant to her ears.
"You read too many books, Sir Grey, that type of conversations only exist in fables where the protagonists get the happy ending," Rosalynde placed the cup of tea down on the coffee table in front of her before standing up, testing her heels before taking calculated steps towards him.
Without thinking twice, she extended the back of her hand, gloves hiding all that should have stayed hidden from stranger eyes as she waited for him to officially greet her as the imperial protocol clearly stated.
"How careless of me." A light touch was then felt hovering over her hand, his lips barely grazing her glove as he kissed the back of her hand in a sign of respect between the members of high society.
"Careless indeed Sir Grey, now do be kind and follow me without stirring the staff too much, the less people know the better," she explained, retracting her hand as she then rubbed the glove against the fold in her dress, wiping it clean in a few wipes.
He didn't comment on her gesture, even if the way he smiled at her made purse her lips in a vain attempt to hide her smile slowly getting larger.
"Follow me." She cracked the door with what textbooks would have called impeccable mannerism, turning around to meet her guests' gaze.
For the second time in a row Grey did not comment, nor did he acknowledge her words, but the mixture of their footsteps as Rosalynde navigated him around the palace was the only repeating sound that could be heard as they passed through the clean corridors of the Imperial Citadel.
Each time Grey stopped to look at a painting or a statue obtained as spoils of war, Rosalynde would stop her footsteps in return, turning around to look at what'd made him stop before telling him to keep moving.
When they finally arrived in front of the last door Rosalynde knocked twice on the hard wood before hearing a faint reply from the other side.
"I'll leave you now," Rosalynde stated as she turned to leave the two of them to talk.
"No please, let her stay, after all the hardships she's been through to find me it's the least I can do to reward her." Rosalynde left her right eye twitch after hearing such nonsense spewing from his mouth.
It was only after Steel closed the door shut, turning the key twice in the keyhole, all while checking if someone had planted a hearing device inside the room that Lord Regulus started talking.
Grey seemed more attentive than Rosalynde had imagined despite having met him two days before, capturing every single syllable escaping the King of Cards body as he looked out of the window, his dark hair becoming one with the dark wood frame of the window. Grey hadn't even moved his gaze from the window, those gray eyes looking more alive than ever as she kept on studying the scenery outside the glass panel.
He didn't even flinch as the Apostles were mentioned, nor did he ask questions or further clarifications regarding private matters, the only thing that made Rosalynde knew he was listening was by the way he kept on twirling his thumbs – hands clasped together behind his back, but twisting the thumbs as if copying the games children liked to entertain themselves with when they wanted to play on the streets.
It was only after hearing the whole tale that Grey started talking, still with his head turned towards the window.
"You want me to join this... society of yours so that the popular opinion turns into an asset that the Imperial Family can use to their advantage," he'd summarized the speech of Lord Regulus pretty well, or that's what Rosalynde thought.
Unfortunately, the people had started rebellion in some areas of Lowen, malcontent spreading wide just like a disease doctors still hadn't found the cure for.
Like the plague, even frustrated citizens could be kept in check, and the remedy that they would have used went by the common name of Hector Grey.
"Your name speaks for yourself, and so do the actions behind your fame," Lord Regulus said to him, eyeing Rosalynde before she could open her mouth, intimating her silence to not bother his and Grey's talk.
Pursing her lips in disagreement was all she could do, except from following his orders of course.
"And what exactly would I be doing after joining you?" Grey inquired.
"For you to become the official banker of their Majesties, as you're surely aware that the current managing of the imperial fortune spectates to the Helian Church after sign the Peace of Gereniè,"
Grey paused before replying, hands drumming against the glass frame. "That's basic knowledge that even beggars know. The former retainer, Bishop Ferdis was a good man, apparently he fell from the first floor inside Daunting Cathedral while attending a funeral of a high-ranked official."
Thinking on how Nightingale had covered up Bishop's Ferdis death, Rosalynde just knew that the man had done a fantastic job in silencing the maiden that'd found the body. That unfortunate, out-of-place little girl that'd found the cooling body of the elder in a puddle of his own blood had been the first to alert the patrolling police, and had been the first to get eliminated right after figuring out who exactly was she.
"Of course, we won't be poking our noses around your business, if it's not related to us – it means nothing to us too," It was a good deal, a deal that went to favor their guest more than themselves.
"As appealing as that sounds, that won't be enough I'm afraid, I want something more," Grey stated, unfazed by the deal he'd just received.
More? What more did he want?
"Maybe a connection to the Des Reslows? Her imperial highness is still not engaged, I could put in a good word if that's what you want." Rosalynde closed her eyes at that reply, taking a few steps backwards.
That statement had made her blood boil with pure rage. He did not have the right to decide that. A political marriage was something Pharah had already come to terms with years ago, as it was her duty to be of help in any form, but it still felt like walking on cracked seashells made of thin glass – so fragile, so ready to break down as soon as someone stepped over them.
It'd been Lord Regulus that'd saved her, but nowadays it was Pharah that she'd sworn to serve, and that was where her ultimate loyalty had been placed.
"Oh but I don't want to get married anytime soon, Lord Regulus. You see marriage ties you down, branding you with a new label. Take me for example, a young banker that recently rose to power without marriage nor a family backing him, the perfect ally for all who do not want to be anchored with a certain associate," All he'd said made perfect sense in Rosalynde's mind, for she'd been playing this same game of his.
Taking out the fact that she didn't bear any interest in marriage, someone permanent in her life would have only slowed her down, and Grey had explained oh so well. There wasn't a single doubt that celibate or widowed women had a higher chance of establishing themselves in the distraught world of politics, for they would have been known for the influence they alone possessed, and not thanks to the surname they wrote down on a blank piece of paper.
And that applied to men too, especially to men. The more power they gained with their actions alone, the more praise they were bound to receive from external parties chanting nothing more than high praises.
Disgusting, unfair, and unbothered by the disparity in power between men and women. Pharah had worked her ass off to get over her brother in the line of succession, but what had been a tremendous effort to keep up for others was nothing more than a slip of labor from the latter.
That was another thing she hoped would have changed after her Lady's ascension to the throne.
"And you? What role do you play in all this?" When Rosalynde heard no answers, she cracked both eyes open, narrowing them before replying with a dangerous smile that admitted no dejection.
"That is for you to find out Lord Grey, why eliminate the thrill of the unknown? For as that's the only fun part of the game we're all forced play," she didn't turn her gaze to look at the face Lord Regulus was making at her, she'd spoken without his permission and she was well aware of that, but what she was sure to gain for her calculated slip of tongue would have been much more valuable.
He kept staring at her, a ghost of a smile slowly started appearing on his striking handsome face, his eyes now much gentler than what they'd been at the start.
"Very well, I accept the offer, but only under one condition." Rosalynde scoffed at that, making Grey raise an eyebrow.
"And what would this condition be?" Both Steel and Lord Aurelium asked in unison, both casting a reprimanding look at each other, mentally cursing each other for not keeping their mouths shut.
"When I'll be asking, I'll be in need of your cooperation," Grey said.
"What for?" Rosalynde inquired, raising her chin to meet once more Grey's gaze.
"Revenge," was the only thing he articulated before excusing himself, door closing as he asked a mind to escort him out.