Audience, Redux [Florian]

[Anton]

A • H O U S E • D I V I D E D

Frost 13, 122 Age of Steel

Anton needed answers, and he needed them as soon as possible. Florian was alive, and not just that but working directly for Brenner Dornkirk. It was insane enough that Brenner had gone from a mid-ranking officer in the Air Corps to First Minister all but overnight in the wake of the coup d'état against the now disgraced Grand Marshal Kane - the conventional wisdom that he or his father were somehow instrumental in the affair - but for him to employ a Lysanrin as one of his closest confidants was beyond the pale for many in the city. General Michaelis was of two minds about the entire matter, but ultimately decided that Kelgarde knew what she was doing.

Which was all Anton needed to get the permission he required. His father had been far from happy about it, but the fact of the matter was that in many ways Florian now outranked him, and he had eventually acquiesced to his son's request. The old soldier mollified himself with the fact that war planning meant he would often be away from his own home, and he took great care to ensure that his wife and other children would not be present either upon the selected day. (Anton's sister Amelia found this quite unfair, but that is a different story.)

It was a far less dramatic, and far more respectful, invitation than the last Florian had received to visit the manor. A simple letter, sent through the usual channels, and well in advance with the option to ignore or refuse it at will. A far cry from a liveried servant arriving at the crack of dawn.

Undersecretary Albrecht,

It was a pleasure to see you at the Fletcher salon. It has been some time since we last spoke, and I would like to apologize for my rudeness at that meeting. While I understand if you would rather not discuss such, I must confess my curiosity at your fate these past two seasons.

Should you care to join me for lunch this Eikaeus, you are most welcome at Michaelis manor.

Your Most Obedient Servant,
Anton S. Michaelis

On the day in question, the stones of the front portico were freshly cleaned and the main dining room set. While it was almost comically large a table for two, it was not every day that the Michaelis estate was graced by one of the high officers of the state. Even if the quest in question was an unusual holder of such an august rank. Still, the servants were professionals, and Anton had taken pains to only have the tori servants and those humans who were known to work well with them work anywhere Florian might be present in today. The last thing he wanted was for the man to be insulted before he had the chance to do it himself by saying something stupid.

So rigorously did Anton follow the protocol due Florian's new position, he waited for his arrival at the front door itself. Or rather, in a sitting room next to the main foyer so he could be summoned to the front door as soon as a carriage came up the drive, but much the same difference. He wore what was to him normal, casual clothing - though still likely more expensive than the finest Florian garb had ever worn before his disappearance and reappearance. Still, he was trying.

[Florian]

Florian was still staying at the Dornkirk Manor, though he had aims to find himself a place to live as soon as he could. It was not as if he knew a great many people in Zaichaer (as much as he knew the right people, it seemed) and so, despite the appearance of Anton at the salon, he was not expecting a letter from him. He never thought he had left such an impression on him that it would warrant a summons, and yet here he was, walking up the stairs towards the front door of the Michaelis estate where he had previously been ushered through servants quarters. He was dressed nicely, though not as formally as he had been when Anton first saw him again. He favored white button-up shirts and so that was what he wore, with a light jacket and trousers. He was rather happy he didn't have to wear his military uniform anymore, even if it was inexplicably fashionable.

The door opened before he reached it, and he was ushered into the foyer he had only last seen nearly a year before for Anton's debut. It was different now that it was noon and there were far less people. Just him, Anton, and the servants.

"I see I get to use the front door this time, Anton." He remarked upon seeing him. He knew it was a bit of a catty remark, though he hadn't remembered their last meeting very fondly either. Anton seemed like a man layered in non-issues and frivolousness. But he had to remember to at least be somewhat polite, even if Anton also seemed to appreciate his candor, even if it was just practice for those that didn't. He knew his new position ruffled feathers, even if the gravity of it had yet to settle in.

[Anton]

Under any other circumstances, Anton would have been quite disarmed by Florian's verbal jab. Fortunately, or not depending upon ones perspective, he was far too confused and relieved to be bothered by such a relatively mild comment. Of all of the ways he could have reacted, he just smiled. No matter how his aura had changed, this was Florian. No one else would've said anything like that. He genuinely had appreciated that about the man, his lack of concern for niceties and protocol.

"I wasn't lying at the salon, you know," he replied, already turning smartly upon his heel to gesture Florian deeper into the estate. His smile grew at a private joke, one that only made sense with Florian and a very small number of others who knew the truth about him. There was just always something funny to him about a blind man leading the way. "It really is good to see you again. Well. You get the idea," he continued with a shrug.

Passing from the foyer into the hallways that extended through the ancient and labyrinthine manor like the lines of a spider web, Anton tried to stop himself from talking too much. But not all battles were winnable. "I thought you were dead," he admitted, his cheer falling from his face in an instant. "The lot of you all just vanished one day, you, Eitan, the Dornkirks. And then they came back, and you didn't. I'm... very happy my assumption was wrong."

Anton seemed visibly relieved as he walked through the halls of his fathers, the blind man a combination of unaware and uncaring of what lined the walls. There was wealth here, that was obvious, but even to Florian's eyes it was old - aged - and clearly flagging. There were few fresh trophies, the battle standards of defeated foes and beautiful paintings that lined the walls were faded with age and a thin patina of dust sullied their frames despite the best efforts of the household staff.

The dining room at least retained its splendor - Anton having ensured that it was suitable to host an Undersecretary of the First Ministry, Lysanrin or not. Porcelain plates and bowls were set with silver utensils while cups of crystal stood waiting to be filled. There was little actual food laid out though, the lordling having remembered that Florian seemed unwilling to accept much on their first private rendezvous. For the moment then, the table was set with a light selection of meats and cheese and fruit. And should his tastes have changed, well, it was a minor matter to summon more from the kitchens. "We may not be able to feast you as well as the Dornkirks, but I hope we can provide. Please, let me know if this is insufficient, Undersecretary Albrecht."

[Florian]

Florian stayed quiet as Anton spoke. His eyes wandered the decor he hadn't had a chance to really look at before, though he did listen to his host. A beautiful house, full of old history but lacking in the new. Truly old wealth that Florian almost felt grateful he never had to experience himself. The Dornkirk Manor was more modern, in many ways just by the grace of how new their family was. And Florian was already considering taking out a loan to buy himself a small townhouse. Nothing like these, but for himself. With a gate, a courtyard, and as Brenner had suggested, even a balcony.

"You fail to consider that, until now, my existence simply went below notice." Florian replied as they walked into the dining room. "There was very little reason for me to tread in the same circles as you." Florian took a seat at the table and immediately picked a strawberry from the platters laid out. He had decided against saying anything about the experimentation until he knew more about what he could and should say about it. It was a far cry from their first meeting, where he had stolen pieces of Anton's breakfast. Now an entire charcuterie was set just for him, with plates prettier than he'd ever used before this season.

"This is fine." He almost added that Anton didn't have to call him Undersecretary, but he realized that it was something he'd have to get used to regardless. Florian didn't eat a lot, and Anton did well by providing food that only required one hand to eat. Nothing that needed to be, say, cut with a knife while held with a fork. "What questions did you have for me, anyway? Or did you just want to confirm it was really me at the salon? I didn't think I left that much of an impression." He took a bite from another strawberry, and though he had gotten somewhat accustomed to asking servants for things when he needed them while at the Dornkirks, it made him uncomfortable. And so he asked to no one in particular, "Could I have some water?"

[Anton]

"Humility does not suit you, Florian," Anton chided, switching to his personal name in response to the politician's answer he had been given. At the same time, he rose to fill the man's crystal glass from a carafe so cold the shining silver sweat beads of water down its sides. By rights, a servant should appeared to handle such a menial task, but none were present in the dining room. He had intended to speak with the Undersecretary privately, and if that meant pouring water himself he didn't particularly mind. His focus strayed for a moment as he fixated on the falling liquid, mentally untangling their symphony as he had done since his experiments at the start of Ash.

The water almost began to overflow the glass before he caught himself, the lapse hopefully explained by the fact that he was after all, blind. Pouring for himself, with more care this time, he at last continued. "Your existence has been noticed for some time now. At least a year, I would guess, perhaps more. You wouldn't have been engaged upon the work you were tasked with otherwise. To say nothing of... unofficial attention. Eitan practically took you everyone he went for half a year - the rumors were, well they were rather unkind but the point is that they were and then suddenly they weren't. You have made waves since long before becoming Undersecretary, they've simply evolved from gossip to policy. I will not pry, but you must think of something better to divert such questions."

Anton himself ate little as well, though more from nerves than habit. What had he wanted to ask? Everything had developed so quickly he never got the chance to actually sit down and figure out what to try and discover from the Undersecretary, let alone how to go about it. Blanking on the matters of import he had sworn to his father he would attempt to uncover, he instead went with the all too genuine. "I'm sorry for rambling, you get enough of speeches already I'd bet. Are you alright? I can't imagine what you've been through."

[Florian]

Florian frowned. He had never been a prideful person, and he usually intended to keep his head down. Current events excluded, the attention he had garnered had always been unwanted. He made waves no matter what he did, by virtue of who he was and how he acted. He had noticed that his open dislike of both Anton and Brenner had only made them more interested in winning him over. As soon as he admitted to Brenner that he didn't hold only hate in his heart for him he ended up as Undersecretary instead of Private. He could only hope he wouldn't fuck that up, but it was besides the point in meeting with Anton. Anton knew he didn't like him. Anton likely knew he thought he was spoiled besides, with no real issues aside from being blind and feeling the need to hide it from people who were so wealthy they had nothing to do with their time besides gossip.

"Frankly, Anton, it's none of your business." Florian said, and then he took a sip of water. "And summoning me here with that express purpose was frustrating. But I did come, so I'll give you something. I was gone, for a time. I drew too much attention from the wrong people, and I ended up losing my arm because of it. But I'm free now." He set the glass of water down and looked pointedly at Anton, though he knew that he could not see it.

"You're right. You can't imagine it, and I don't feel inclined to share the details. Do you have anything more interesting to ask me?"

[Anton]

The blunt response from Florian pleased Anton far more than the bland, anodyne, political answer he had first received. There was scorn there, and no small measure of distaste, the emotions surging in an already sullen theme, but this only buoyed the blind man's spirits. Whatever the Lysanrin had gone through, he was still himself, that spark of brutal honesty refusing to fade away. He was a refreshing sort of man to talk to, even if he was irrepresible. No, especially so.

"Thank you, Undersecretary Albrecht. That is more than I expected or deserve to know, you are quite right. My apologies for being overly familiar." Anton's mind raced at the implications of these revelations, the coup resulting not only in the ascendance of the Dornkirks from rising scions to leading lights of the city - but also Florian from gone as he put it to the first nonhuman to hold high office since the fall of the Kingdom.

He almost obeyed Florian's dismissal after that, a sense of danger radiating from the man that had not been there when they had spoken in late Searing. But despite his fumbling he did have actual matters to discuss with the Undersecretary, and he was more afraid of failure than of upsetting the Lysanrin across the table from him. It helped that the sudden promotion had placed Florian in Anton's realm of expertise, whether he liked it or not - and Anton figured that he very much did not. Presentation and expectation were as important as sword and shot at the dizzying heights the West Ender had alighted to, and these were at least discussions that Anton could navigate without making a fool of himself.

Briefly, he considered offering his support to Florian, before immediately banishing the thought. If such was wanted it would be asked, and it would not do to come across as condescending. "I shall skip the niceties then, you have likely already had your fill of the boilerplate on how House so and so is ever loyal and willing to work with the Office of Domestic Relations on such and such. So," he took a breath, preparing himself to do the exact opposite of what all that time refining presentation and expectation told him to do, Florian wouldn't give a shit about any of that anyway, and instead simply talk about what he wanted to talk about.

"I want to know about Grand Marshal Kelgarde and the expectations of her government."

[Florian]

Florian took a slice of summer sausage and cheese and ate them together while he chewed on the question that Anton had presented. There was the propagandized speech he could present, but it would only serve to annoy his host. This made it appealing in and of itself, but Anton had done nothing especially deserving of his dislike that he would not be confronted with in other people he would meet. As such, he couldn't go around annoying them to his heart's content, and he also figured he had to satisfy the man's curiosity in some manner. For how rude he was to him, it only seemed to make Anton desire his approval more. Rich boys hated being told no.

"Grand Marshal Kelgarde made it possible for First Minister Dornkirk to place me into this position." He started off. "Which means she believes that my place as Undersecretary will do far more good than harm, even with the old guard's rampant displeasure. Even with my lack of experience. She is efficient and smart." He picked up a strawberry and took a bite while his words settled. "Take that as you will."

"Between you and me, I have yet to have my fill of humans who would have otherwise been hostile to me take a sudden heel-turn for the sake of their place in the state. It's like I have specialized in making people uncomfortable. I've been considering taking out a loan for a small house here in the West End — to be closer to work — and I almost look forward to the looks on their faces." He took a sip of the water that Anton had poured. "Whether I like it or not, I am going to be — I am becoming an icon, a symbol. It's in my hands and my best interests to direct it in my favor."

[Anton]

Silence filled the room after Florian answered his host's question, Anton eating a measure of his own luncheon. The Undersecretary might be new at his job, but he was taking to it like a fish to water. He said little, his taciturn nature preventing him from going on tangents, and what he did say avoided revealing anything that he wouldn't be able to learn in time anyway. Perhaps it was his survival instincts from his time in the Knob, or just a genuine dislike of talking, that did it. But it was undeniable that with time and experience the Lysanrin would've been able to climb high in Zaichaeri politics had he been born human.

But he was not. His rise was due entirely to the decisions of those with too much power to be ignored. Brenner, who seemed to have a measure of comradeship with the Florian, and Kelgarde, who was an unknown. He had known of her during her own tenure as First Minister, and by all accounts she had been rather good in that post. But why would she expend so much of her political capital, so freshly ascended to the office of Grand Marshal? What was her goal? Florian, it seemed, would not give Anton any further insight.

"Interesting."

It was interesting, but it was also exceedingly dangerous for all involved. Kelgarde was willing to upset established power structures, which spoke to either a supreme amount of self confidence or the belief that her actions would have such beneficial effects to outweigh that damage. What else would she reevaluate? Perhaps it was finally time to try and parlay his friendship with Stefan into an amicable relationship with Brenner.

But as he was busy thinking, Florian continued speaking. Anton smiled once more at the thought of the more conservative residents of the West End reacted to the move, his father among them. Not for the first time, he knew he was supposed to share in that distaste at the other, but it was difficult for him to bring himself to care. "Well, there are certainly no shortage of those sorts here. You're quite right." For once he was speaking tersely, only half of his attention upon Florian as his thoughts revolved around Kelgarde and her goals. His eyes had long ago unfocused, the effort of pretending he could see abandoned - and in any case, the Lysanrin already knew the truth. But an errant idea barged its way in, turning his mind to Florian despite himself.

"Has the Ministry assigned you guards?"

[Florian]

Florian contened himself with the silences by eating the charcuterie array before them. He knew his wording didn't confuse Anton, and so he attributed the silence to the man trying to figure out how everything could fit together. He had spent some time thinking about that himself, but it was quickly becoming something he would have to live through and not something he could sit around and speculate about. He had been hired and immediately set to work to convince Brenner of change rather than rhetoric; now he was talking to a man who seemed to know more about the nature of his position than he did by virtue of his life. To Florian, growing up, the Presidium was far away and above notice. The decisions made in the hallways he walked did not matter to him because they were never to his benefit.

"Yes." Florian replied. He didn't mention that in a carriage outside waited one of them. He didn't feel threatened by the Michaelis estate and didn't think it was necessary to bring even one guard, and yet. "Of course they have." He was a bit too public and immediately too polarizing to not have guards assigned to him. Anton would know that, though perhaps his questioned spawned from the lack of a guard in the room. The Lysanrin always felt he could take care of and defend himself, but that was before he was noticed. And, perhaps, the guards served double duty to ensure he didn't leave Zaichaer again. Not that he planned to.

"Especially because I am an immediately polarizing figure. They, at least, picked guards that do not seem put out by my presence." Florian leaned back in his chair. "Personally I think I can take care of myself, but I guess it looks good if they've got protection for me."