14th of Glade
The Ending Star was one of Ursula’s favorite restaurants in the city.
Or, it had been, back when she’d attended the Greater Institute. The restaurant was only across the street from the Institute central courtyard. She’d spent many an afternoon pretending to study with a friend or two, running up a bill before having it sent to her parents. The food was, of course, excellent, but the drinks were fabulous.
And, of course, there was the Bartender.
The Bartender was an open secret - and, to a certain clientele, the primary reason to patronize the Ending Star. The students were obsessed with him. A failed actor or that was the rumor, he was beautiful. Tall, with broad shoulders. A healthy mop of black hair that was perfectly messy. Eyes as brown as the richest chocolate. And his voice was the most delicious thing, all melody, and sweet things.
Ursula had - when she’d first started at the Institute, spied a glance or two sent her way, or to one of her friends, but she’d discovered very quickly that the Bartender wouldn’t be interested in her.
Not ever.
It was only after they became friends she learned the Bartender was actually Oscar Baumann. He aspired to fame and theater and was a terrible flirt. He was witty and charming and was, most importantly, a match to Ursula in conversations on any and all topics. He teased her, uncaring about her family or name, and she delighted in his life and in the debauchery he found himself entangled.
She was terribly jealous of the freedom he so easily enjoyed.
And, of his luck with men.
Ursula fancied herself a sort of matchmaker in her youth, for all sorts. She knew a few men who enjoyed the same sorts of fun Oscar did and set them up, oh so very slyly. And, while they’d both grown older and a bit distant, Ursula still very much treasured Oscar as a dear friend - and helped him, when she could, with her own contacts at the Pfenning.
And today, he’d help her. Not that he knew it - not that she would ever be upfront about her own machinations.
It bothered her that Myles hadn’t mentioned Brenner, before. She still wasn’t sure anything existed between them. She wondered if she’d imagined it. Ursula hoped a second pair of eyes might make whatever she’d seen all the more clearer.
And, even if Oscar was open with his own secrets, he was smart enough to keep quiet on Ursula’s.
And so, she waited for them both in a corner booth - private enough that they wouldn’t need to worry about prying eyes, save for the ones Ursula wanted.
