The Glutton

There are times I wonder what would have happened had I simply returned to my bakery after reading the posting concerning the Poet's resignation.
Would the dynamics of our relationship be different?
Would I have spoken to him with a sweeter more understanding tone, when he inquired about day old bread?
Perhaps I would resisted the leap to judgement concerning his character?
I would like to think so, yet I doubt it.

There are times I think that I have seen to much, experienced things that were perhaps intended for another.

Such speculations are wasted upon me, at this point it is water under the bridge.
In my own defense, I am not the only one stands in judgement. Since that fateful day he never seems to miss the opportunity to insult me. Granted there are times I have made it easy on him, still you would think someone of the Entertainers Caste would be..more entertaining instead of infuriating. I would like to say that burned bridges have since been restored, yet that would be a lie. He does have one redeeming quality, that is his daughter. I have only met her once but I do find her rather charming, no doubt a trait inherited from her mother.

On a worthy chattering side note, I was gifted, strike that word. A gift implies that it something wanted and desired and nothing could be further from the truth when I opened the door to my shop, last hand, only to find the iron cage resting upon the stoop. I didn't need to lift the velvet cover to expose the feathered occupant inside for I had heard his annoying squawking the previous day when I waited upon his owner, the rug merchant. The card attached to the cage, simply said,
"The trip we spoke of yesterday, prevents me from taking Alfred.. He will make wonderful company, consider him payment for the kindness you showed me and my son."
Company? Seriously?

I don't know what he was thinking, giving me such an unsanitary creature. The cage is heavy and awkward something I quickly found out as I carried it towards the Markets. Once I turned the corner I was reminded of the scheduled festivities, marked to celebrate, 'The Planting Feast'.
Scattered along the sidewalks were a wide varieties of both vendors and entertainers. The sight was initially welcomed, as I thought surely someone that based their daily income on drawing a crowd would be interested in purchasing the colorful creature.
The only thing I managed to sell was my dignity, something that seems to be in short supply lately for as soon as I removed the velvet cover it started squawking obscenities to anyone within earshot. Considering I was in possession of the foul mouthed creation, naturally that lead most to just to the conclusion that I had schooled him. If I wasn't afraid of getting my fingers bitten off I would have most certainty strangled him. To put it mildly the scene he created was appalling. Covering the cage seemed to help a little, the squawked obscenities changing to cries of attention, which in my opinion was a little better, at least they were quieter. Thankfully the attention didn't last, the crowd pulled instead towards the roped off plot of land near the square.
Once I managed to make my way thru the crowd I was more than a little surprised to see the Entertainer performing. The sight was fascinating. I remember standing there with a look of disbelief as the handle of a long sword dangled from between his parted lips, one transformed into two, the sharp blade skillfully threaded downwards just like the first. It was a sight I have never before seen. I wanted to turn away only because I am no fan of blood. I didn't, couldn't. After the fourth sword was swallowed down by the gluttonous entertainer, I felt the pull to the back of my calves as it lifted to the tips of my toes straining in order to see, just thinking about it causes my heart to anxiously race. I was mesmerized. The applause started out hesitant, yet quickly grew as the final sword was carefully removed. I think he was surprised, and honestly so was I when I stepped forward coaxing the crowd of spectators to part with their hard earned coin. It only seemed right for he had made his Caste proud and that I believes deserves a just reward. It was a good evening, despite the fact that he ended the evening calling me cold. It wasn't offended by the term, actually I am glad to have him think that, I simply didn't like the fact that he said it in such a way as to try to pull a reaction out of me.
I rose to the challenge, ending the evening with my own brand of entertainment.

I have since hired him on occasion to oversee the weekly market deliveries.
He claims that I am the only one that operates with an agenda, I don't believe him. I simply refuse to believe that anyone is truly comfortable with their station in life. There are times he makes me uncomfortable, yet he is punctual and carries out the work well, plus he is eager for the coin, which makes him desperate. That in itself is a valuable yet dangerous commodity. As of yet there is nothing to lead me to believe he is a threat, that does not mean I take his presence lightly, for he has proven himself to be a masterful glutton, on many different levels.

Poetic Injustice

I should have probably returned to my bakery once I read the announcement, instead of retreating to the outside cafe. I am simply unable to focus upon the needs of others.

The piece of posted rence was small, in my opinion smaller than it should have been upon the public announcement board, stating the resignation of the Peoples Magistrate. I have examined it from all angles and still I find no clear answers as to why this upsets me. Yet it does. I would be lying to myself if I attempted to deny it. There is a part of me that can easily justify it with the explanation that the betrayal I feel is largely due to the fact that I was the driving force behind his nomination. Yet what I feel has nothing to do with my own political aspirations, or the welfare of the City. As illogical as it sounds I feel slighted by his public resignation, the betrayal stems from a more personal level. There is no part of me that doesn't understand the fact that he owes me nothing, no explanation, nothing. The word betrayal perhaps is to strong, yet at the moment I am unable come up with a suitable replacement. The anger I feel is palpable, seems to defy explanation. I don't know what I thought, perhaps that he would not give up, that he would continue to fight the good fight. I read that back and I feel a sense of shame, for he did fight hard, even when it jeopardizes his own well being.

I am the worst type of fool, wallowing in the past, foolishly attempting to cling to a relationship that I purposely ended long ago. As I read the term relationship, it seems to imply a sense of intimacy, which didn't exist at least not according to traditional terms. There was a time however that I did consider our relationship intimate, only because it extended past my own normally allowed boundaries. Its hard for me to clearly articulate the way he made me feel I do know that I trusted in his opinion and valued his council, in this I wasn't alone. The time I spent in his company proved him to be a man of strong convictions, something I will continue to respect. He is the type of man that despite his masterful ability to command a crowd, never made me feel insignificant, nor those he was elected to represent. His ability to command a crowd with such effortless authority is something many hungrily attempt to archive yet seldom obtain. It is such traits that brands him as a powerful leader but also separate him, marking him a personal threat for a woman such as myself, I knew then as I know now that he is not the type of man that could ever enter a relationship with a woman that he did not completely dominate. In my attempt to arrive at some type of understanding, I will admit I wish it was different...that I was different.
I find it unsettling not to mention unproductive to openly explore such honesty in such a public setting instead I will instead focus upon gratitude, one that demands to be shared among the citizens of Ar, for his diligent service, we were as a whole made stronger because of it. There are not many that could have shouldered the burden with such strength during such uncertain times, I only hope the same can be said concerning those that follow in his sandaled footsteps. The disillusioned feelings I originally harbored when I started writing replaced with well wishes for him and gratitude for without realizing it, he broke down the walls that surround me, making me examine my own life.

Yes I think the City will miss him. I dare say, I will miss him.

Suum Cuique

They stopped. They stared.
Not me.
I chose instead to study the crowd as Administrators fraudulent mouthpiece stepped upon the stone podium.

"My good people! Hear

me now! I bring you fortunate news. You have been deceived!" The salt crisis..is officially..over!"

The majority of the faces I was able to read, appeared dispassionate concerning the vocal proclamation, perhaps it is just a case of seeing them thru my own eyes. I did not stay long. I could not stomach the company or the conversation. Alone, I walked along the stone bridges that overlook my once beloved City. The submit was quiet, void was the normally gathered group of Kaissa players. The unexpected solace was welcomed. The thin night air carried with it not only a brisk chill but dark smoke as well, from my vantage point I could see the flickering outlines of several small fires. I assumed them correctly to be celebratory instead of hostile. As much as I want, I found no cause to celebrate, nor did I feel the adrenaline rush of anger or at the very least superiority as facts were brought to light.
I suppose I expected after such a long time, to be filled with a sense of closure. Is this not what we have waited for? The questions that filled my mind lack intense ferocity. The love I once felt for my Home Stone completely shattered, despair replacing loyalty as I came to terms with the fact that there will be no logical end to this war. There is no amount of salt, no amount of coin that can restore the constant acts of deceit brought about by this current administration. Truth be told it isn't the lies that bother me as much as the fact the I no longer trust.
The weight of constantly fed lies has left me exhausted and broken.
I don't know how late I stayed, I only know the streets were deserted as I walked home.
I pulled at the edges of the scarf causing the folds to part, in doing so, I was surprised to find, my cheeks were damp.

The Distribution of Weight

The debt owed me by the former Scribe, has been paid. The payment was rendered from the recent auction of her estate, one that led to her own enslavement. I wanted to attend, in fact it was something that I anticipated with a great deal of smug satisfaction. It was however a business commitment that detained me, thankfully Siminus agreed to attend in order to oversee the payment of the debt. In exchange for his assistance I offered to lend him the use of crumb for an unspecified period of time, his pride prevented him from asking her, yet the new addition of the walking stick proved to me that he required it. Truthfully I was glad do this for the ailing Scribe. It is my intention that his remaining days are pleasant and I am confident that crumb will take adequate care of him.
While I remain confident in crumbs abilities, the same unfortunately can not be said for the red headed slave. It might have been a mistake allowing her to attend the auction, the decision was made with the hope she would come to fully understand the finality of her past. I assumed it would be an emotional event for her, change often is, yet it was troubling when Siminus reported the of amount of tears shed, along with the public throwing of herself onto the ground. The news called for swift action, the time for levity has passed. It has become apparent she needs a firm hand in order to clearly remind her that it is no longer about her, and her needs. I would be lying if I didn't consider beating her, I believe it would have felt good to unleash the shame she brought down upon my good name. As tempted as I was, I would not however let my decision be dictated by emotions, after careful deliberation I opted for a more public lesson, something that would permanently remove the weight of her past, the decision made with a demanding hand, without encumbering her ability to perform her work. The sheers were handed over to her as she knelt beside me, ribbons of red spilling across the cobbled streets as I instructed her to cut her coveted strands. Several people stopped to stare, she was not pleased, cheeks damp with tears which confirmed by method of punishment. I am confident the lesson shall serve as a poignant reminder of my disappointment.
My ways of dealing with slaves, I believe are significantly different than others. I suppose that stands to reason considering my expectations don't revolve around their sexual abilities.
The following morning, once her chores were completed, she was escorted to the Street of Brands, her old collar removed and replaced with my own the inscription the same as crumbs,
"Property of the Twisted Tarn Bakery. Do not feed, do not coddle."
The ratty dark tunic disposed off replaced with a pale yellow version. I admit the seamstress did a fine job stitching the back with brown thread, the letters bold enough to be read from a good distance, it serves to not a testament of her statues, but more importantly the advertisement is a cheap way to illicit new customers.

On a more interesting note, it should be said that when freckles returned from the Auction she was in the possession of a small crafted wooden box. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time, instead focusing the brunt of my attention on her behavior instead of the contents, yet when I returned to my bakery and opened it, I was surprised to find it contained jewels, beautiful hand cut jewels of various size and color.
Naturally I questioned freckles upon contents, her reply only caused more unspoken questions when the generous donor was exposed as, the Red Caste woman, Scarlet Sin. I did not need the recent introduction to make me aware of the ties her family maintains in the City. I find the lot of them, despicable and without any type of social conscience, beyond their own, they represent everything I despise concerning the wealthy. They are like open sores feeding on the skills of the working class, riding along their backs within the open streets with a sense of entitlement that makes me ill. It is even rumored that she is connected if not responsible for the death of Jacobin, a local Metal Smith.

So that leaves me with several unanswered questions, the first being, why would a woman such as her chose to bestow such a valuable gift upon my low slave? There must be an agenda, one that I am determined to expose, for the moment I have transported the content to a more secure location until I can am able to have their value assessed.

The balancing act ironic, the removal of one weight, only served to tip the scales in another direction.

Administrative Blindness

The passing of the Waiting Hand, provided the perfect vessel to clear my disillusioned mind.
As with many it was spent in quiet seclusion, the slaves kept busy with minimal chores, consisting mostly of sewing, conversation held to a minimum, the warmth of the ovens extinguished, painted door closed marking the end of the long winter and the approach of the coming En'Kara. I have always openly embraced this time, yet never have I welcomed it with such a willing mind. It offered me the opportunity to openly reflect upon all that has transpired both personally and professionally. The majority of my thoughts centered upon Tynan and his training. The pride I feel concerning his achievements continues to grow. The updates I have received from the Academy proves him to be a natural leader. I seriously didn't expect anything different, it is just a mothers pride to hear from others what I have always know to be true, his destiny is one of greatness. There are times I wonder how he would feel if he knew the lengths that I gone in order to secure his rightful place as Administrator. Truth be told, it doesn't matter if he is aware of it, for their is ample time for him to show his apperception when he obtains the power to do so properly.

This morning the ceremonial burning of the brak bush was a private event, afterwards crumb was dispatched carrying the verbal news among those considered my Caste equals, while the freckled slave set about cleaning the paint from the front door as well as the walk way from debris. A menial task that suits her station. I am finding her worth slowly increasing to more than I originally expected, her mind is sharp, sharper that I she lets on, easily missed by most for I have noticed that she hides it well. Her hands are quick and her mouth is often times silent.
I have yet to decide her overall fate and I find myself in no rush to make such a decision.

The remainder of the day spent working, baskets removed from storage, lined with recently dyed cloth of bright yellow before being filled with fresh loaves of Sa-Tarna as well as an assortment of small sweet cakes, both crumb and freckles divided up the districts before setting on foot delivering them to some of my preferred customers. It is a tradition that was put into place my mother and one that I still consider important. I believe its good to reward past loyalties, that and the fact that the majority have come to count on such reciprocity. It pleases me to be able to help them, not to mention playing the part magnanimous benefactor is a role I enjoy.


I will admit if only within these private pages that I find a modicum of satisfied comfort in the fact that we did not bring about this conflict. Their calloused blindness never so apparent as I watched the elaborately decorated floats begin their assault along the City streets, the effort and expense put forth was a sickening display of wealth and power.
The nerve they still maintain is extraordinary, one tossing out small hard candies and coins across the square, sending the masses to scramble like animals in their haste to claim it as their own. I am torn concerning what disgusts me more, the fact that it drew a response or the act itself.
I know now they will remain blind until they are forced to see us, forced to feel the scorn of our disillusionment only when that is accomplished will there be cause to celebrate.
I sit here now purposely choosing not to speculate on my own damaged interior one that allows me the opportunity to be writing in the relative safety of my residence, guilt free while the violence I had a hand in perpetuating, spills out across the City streets, on a night intended for celebrating. The lavish ceremony only serves to prove the level of intelligence that exists within the High Caste, to be that stupid and self involved to consider for a single ehn that we have reason to celebrate. They should have known better, I am however confident that the message delivered tonight, was done so in violent enough voices much to strong to be ignored. I scorn them for their continued ignorance.
The time for quiet compliance has reached an end, they were fools to think otherwise.


It saddens me that I am unable to recall a time when I gathered with those I consider equals to speak of something other than current corrupt administration. I despise the fact they have taken something so pure as the love of ones Home Stone and turned into something sinister and ugly. I am sickened by the knowledge that the only thing that stops me from taking any of their lives is simply opportunity.
The fast has left me hungry for something other than food.
The wait is over.

Give us this day our daily bread

I sit here tonight, satisfied and sated in the passing of the past couple of hands.
The seldom used small glass of dark liquor placed nearby, the sweet potent blend, an acquired taste that I rarely indulged. Seldom do I drink anything stronger than juice or water and when I do on nights like tonight it is always done within the privacy of my residence. I see other woman do so quiet liberally in fact in public social settings, personally I believe it makes them look cheap and crass yet it is not a battle that I chose to openly wage, there simply is no need as they normally receive what they have sowed.

The tide seems to have turned as predicted by the Poet, my business has slowly started to increase to the point that I am not longer considering taking out a loan on my Inn, yet I have also not yet opened it for guests. The front door remains locked, the windows facing the street boarded, the property remains listed for sale. The current statues suits me at least for now for I am satisfied with waiting for the market to increase.

Two hands ago I am pleased to say that I was selected among a list of many to cater a political banquet.
It turned out to be more than I originally anticipated, it always is when dealing with their kind.
The guest list included a host of local dignitaries, it was quite an event. Statuesque heavily veiled woman draped in expensive brocade teetering around precariously upon their platform shoes, yet as entertainingly empty minded as they are, it was the equally distinguished politically driven men that held my attention as always for they are the ones that hold the true power.
Thirstily they drank, hungrily breaking bread with those, I doubt even they considered their equals. I continue to be amazed at the interaction among the arrogant. The way they work the room at such functions is nothing short of amazing, arms bending practically to the point of breaking as they pat one another on the shoulder, congratulating themselves on what I feel is yet another false victory, while those they are appointed to serve are still attempting to dig themselves out beneath their deceit. I don't know why I expect them to suddenly grow a conscience, their biased leadership continues to be a source of disappointment. The callous lack of accountability concerning their recently exposed deceit both sickens and drives me, the resolve that fuels me restored. It is hard for me to believe that they almost broke me, sending me fleeing from the City. If anything I feel stronger, more validated concerning my own deceitful actions.

I will admit I was almost convinced of their portrayed Administrative unity that is until I overheard what clearly appeared to be heated strained whispers coming from behind one of the closed door that lead from the kitchen, purposely I waited, busying myself with the arrangements of the dessert trays, in hopes of seeing who would emerge, I was not surprised to see both our corrupt Administrator and his loyal Advisor depart. I did not need to hear the words exchanged to note their equally strained expressions. It pleases me, immensely.

The ill gotten coin derived on the backs of my Low Caste brethren's has been returned to the disillusioned and homeless. The sense of satisfaction continues to bring a smile to my face as the remaining food they so generously paid for, was packed up at nights end and distributed thru out the City along with promises of injustices that had yet be righted.
It does make it so easy that they see us as feebleminded fools.
The time for true accountably looms closer.

Nearly a hand after the prestigious event, a very different sort of party was held within the pubic square. I have little doubt it was orchestrated as a way to placated the working backbone. To be honest, the reasons didn't matter for results clearly outweighed private agendas. The atmosphere brought out an array of colorful performers as well as Merchants and Artists. I felt a sense of comfort that has eluded me ever since the riots, for but a single night it was easy to imagine that the hands of time has been turned backwards to a less complicated time. The turn out greater than I believe anyone anticipated. I ended up turning a handsome profit as well widening my social circle.
Crumb proved instrumental in working the crowd with skilled ease. Her attempts to regain my favor has not escaped my attention. I was pleasantly surprised as I expected her to be self conscience beneath the weight of her newly shaven head. It pleases me to push her, pulling out that inner strength that I know exists, while at the same time restraining her natural reactions. She is not like other slaves and I will have not her ruined by vanity, nor will I allow her to forget who dictate her fate.

On a worthy side note, I obtained ownership over a freckled face slave.
It wasn't my intention to assume ownership over the slave, yet I did as her owner the deadbeat Scribe remains indebted to me. I consider my actions completely justified as I am providing a public service to the City, people need to be held accountable no matter their statues or gender and if it takes making a public stand to make them understand that, then so be it. I shall continue to exercise my control over the freckled slave until the point that Scribe finds the nerve to seeks me out. If she continues to allude me then I shall do whatever is necessary in order to recover my loss, concerning both the coin owed including the cost of her food and shelter.
I do not blame the slave for it is not her fault that her previous owner clearly lacks a sense of responsibility yet by the same standards I shall not be lenient in my treatment of her as I assume, based on the behavior of her former owner that she has in the past been provided with a rather long leash.
She will learn, in this I have no doubt.

The Journey

The cloak that surrounded me did little to prevent the chill from invading my bones as I walked alone this morning, surveying the City streets. I did not want company, for it was clarification I sought. I had no desire for conversation I quickly found out that I was not alone in such my quest for understanding.
Soon after I passed the once brilliant, Statue of Hesius
rising out of the fountain I noticed that despite my wants, I was not alone.
The stone image defaced, making him appear ashamed.
He should, as should we all.
The sight caused me to publicly weep, the expressionless mask I wear cracking as I stared out across the ruination of my once beloved City. A City I no longer recognize.
I could not bring myself to walk the once impressive streets lining once equally magnificent Temple, the pain is still to fresh. I don't need visual confirmation to be reminded of what transpired.
I am not without blame, in fact my shoulders feel heavy beneath the weight I assumed.
The fight has been argentous, I feel drained both emotionally and physically.The resulting destruction I understand now was truly only inflicted upon ourselves and yet changed nothing.

Against the backdrop of the smoke filled skies the displaced stood huddle around the public board their bleak expressions ones I pray I will forget yet at the same time hope that I never do as they read the recently posted news concerning the repealed taxes.The celebratory cries remained muted, the damage inflicted so raw that it defies explanation.
I consider the repeal nothing more of a facade, another attempt to pacify the masses, while accepting no real responsibly for the injustices that have transpired.
I wonder what real comfort it shall bring to those that have already lost everything.


There is no doubt that as I write this, the puppeteers are already madly scrambling behind the false walls of justice, political seats altered in their quest to name a scapegoat. The hope that I once had is now completely shadowed by cynicism.
I am left to contemplate which is better..to be ruled by the current corrupt or welcome an entirely new beast in the arena, one that has yet to sink its claws into the decaying corpse of the common people.
The one thing that remains constant is my own struggle to distance myself from the political arena.
I am afraid there is nothing that can fully wash away the bitter taste of betrayal upon my tongue, for the first time I am considering leaving Ar.Openly I question if there is any salvageable loyalty left inside of me.
I wonder if there is anything I can offer this City but my disappointment. I remain skeptical. It bears considerable contemplation.

Salus Populi Suprema Est Lex

"Be on the look out for arsonists, Tia. Someone's kiosk was set on fire thisafternoon in the Teiban Market."
Savana quietly added between bites of her calorie laden entree.

"Yes I heard about it."
I said offering up a nod of confirmation.
"To be honest I am surprised there hasn't been more destruction."
"Some fellow was ranting that it was the doing of the Priest Kings. Punishment for not going to their temples regularly."
Savana said setting the prong down, she reached for a bit of bread and buttered it."For some reason they are trying to instill an illogical hysteria into the lower castes."

"Yes I don't agree the motives, yet you can not deny, they do seem to be effective. I went to Temple last evening and it was filled to capacity."
A sip of my own honey infused tea was captured before stating the obvious.
"You can't blame people for being scared and upset, seeking some type of leadership and guidance. They need something to believe in, now more than ever."

The disarming topic caused me to actually forget about Mika's presence, that is until he spoke.
"Effective? How much did you donate when you attendedtemple, Tia? More than you normally do?"

"Yes effective."
I replied an assertive nod meeting his incredulous tone.
"As I said I do not agree. Yet I ask you are their methods that different than our elected leaders? The current Administrator rules with intimidation and fear. Yet Idon't hear you questioning them. I suppose it comes to down to the fact that you don't question their authority Mika, because lets face it, doesn't affect you. Not like it does me."
The tea taking on a bitter taste, the cup placed to the table.

"I have been a recluse far too long Tia..When the time comes, I will question both. I suppose then, nothing has really changed. Ar has used the distraction tactic for years"

"Corruption has a way of revealing itself by the stench it leaves behind. Things will become clear in the end."
Savana added, I assume attempting to diffuse the lethal topic.

"If not now Mika, then when, you see I don't have the luxury of being a recluse."
I departed their company without apology.

An entire hand later I document the conversation, motivated by two reasons, one being that I am unable to completely remove it from my increasingly disturbed conscience the second more important reason, I don't want to forget his cavalier attitude for I feel it represents the majority of the High Caste.
I am helpless to deny that the temptation to place the entire blame upon Mika is great, for is handsomely accessible target.
I know in some respects the placement of blame is not entirely logical yet as the hands pass and the bile of discontent continues to build threatening to completely choke me in its attempt to find an outlet, I am without logic for I do blame him both publicly and privately for not using his power and authority to extract a change. I am aware of the fact that there are those that would defend him, stating it is understandable that he does not wish to do anything to jeopardize his entitled existence. Others still would leap at the opportunity, pointing out the contributions his ancestors have made upon the City.
They are the worst type of fools.
To offer up excuses in order to justify not being involved is something I consider ignorant.
The conversation not only made me see Mika in a different light, it also served to feed my own resolve.
The time for quiet compliance has officially ended.
The blind eye demands to be opened, the deaf ear made sharper.
No longer shall I allow the corrupt hand of injustice to govern my actions.
The time is upon us that the culpable are made aware of these things they blatantly chose to ignore.

The welfare of the people is the ultimate law.
So it is written so it shall be done.

Delusions of Grandeur

"Yes those new slippers are nice. I wonder if they make them in a smaller size to fit my feet?"

Does simply adding the obligatory, no offence to the statement make it easily to digest?
Some feel that words are just that..words, rights set in stone, experience however has taught me differently. Words be them petty, slanderous or insulting come with a price and depending upon the relationship you hold with the other, their Caste or more importantly their gender, the price of such vocal admissions at times can be more than your willing to comfortably pay. There are no absolutes when it comes to speaking your mind. The lesson is one that I continue to learn.

The part of me that wishes the topic of discussion had been something so inconsequential as footwear is that part of me that I am unable to truly embrace, it is simply not in my nature to be led by my heart.

I truly harbored no preconceived expectations when I arrived at his office for the impromptu meeting.
I only knew that the desire to see him was undeniable. His stern council and wisdom are something that I did not set about coming to depend upon, in fact there are times that I think it would be easier if I didn't, considering his current position, yet I am unable to stop what has already started.

The mountain of scrolls piled upon the corner of his desk seemed to multiply as I stood in the doorway, the scene, oddly comforting and serene, allowing me to momentarily block out the turmoil and raged just outside. Tupita quietly arranged the pillows, adding to my level of comfort, beverages served as I broached the topic that had been dwelling within the recesses of my mind. I am alone in that I do not make it a habit, sharing my concerns be it business or personal. As with most things in my life, the transference of established trust that exists between us has developed slowly while still maintaining a set of stringent boundaries.

I will admit it felt good to remove the heavy weight from my shoulders as I set about explaining my monetary concerns involving both of my owned establishments. The juice tasted sweet as I listened to his sage advice, in the process reminding me of how fortunate I am compared to the rest of my Caste. I am aware now that I needed that reminder. I suppose we all need that occasionally.
Comparatively speaking I am in a better position than many. It was then that struck with another reminder, that revolving around the desire of why I continue to seek out his council.
He always manages to somehow focus me in the right direction.
I have decided to take his advice and wait out the current economic storm, rather than risk all that I have worked so hard to build.

I should have probably left then before the topic turned to the macabre thanked him for the beverage, his words as well as his valuable time. Yet I didn't.
It was inevitable I suppose that the conversation turned to talk of Titus's recently recovered body.
I had after all been the one to mention the public findings.
___

"The tide seems to be turning. It was more than Titus over the last few hands. Three other high level Magistrates have met their end similarly. More are sure to follow."

"I hope that you are taking the necessary precautions."
"They were all corrupt, Miss Tamborn. Assassins are, despite their unsavory reputation, often employed as agents of justice."

"The list of the corrupt, does that include you Magistrate?"Chin tilting slightly, blue eyes studying him intently.
"You were after all one of the first to be struck down..publicly at least."
___

The need to know, surpassing my good judgement.

In my quest for personal clarity, I am left to wonder, does it matter that I met no offense?
I did not expect a reply and didn't receive one, yet his entire demeanor changed within the span of a single ihn, confirming what I knew to be true. The restraint that he demonstrated evident within his tone as he signaled an abrupt end to our meeting. I didn't want to leave things the way they stood between us, it mattered little that my intentions were purely to ease my own mind instead of casting demeaning dispersions upon his character.



This was one of the rare moments that I took advantage of those rights afforded me, not only as a Citizen but as a Free Woman, in the process elevating myself upon a grander scale. A scale constructed and balanced by his own patient leniency. I am not delusional in this knowledge for he is not the type of man that allows any woman to set the terms for him.