65 Glade 123
Stefan handed off another sheaf of documents to Deinerin from where he stood facing the man from behind his desk in the Windworks, explaining two places he'd made changes that would need to be added to any copies. They were finishing up for the evening, officially, though both knew they would likely each spend more time on business that needed seeing to after their dinners. Two more folders went onto the pile and one went back onto his desk for additional revisions after a brief conversation about it. There were always more things that needed reading, needed doing, but between himself, his family and the counsel things had begun to run smoothly. It could be honestly said that anyone who had a grievance or a need was addressed in a timely manner depending on the time frame of their complaint. The machines of government, such as they were on the Islands and the areas they held sway over, were settling into a well oiled efficiency.
When the last issue of the work day was addressed he nodded, listened to the overview of what would be needed tomorrow, and thanked his man. He always tried to thank the people who worked for him, and it was usually returned in kind. Taking the moment while Deinerin stepped out to put away the finished work to tidy his desk he walked over to the coat rack just in time to have his manservant reappear and take the coat he'd been reaching for. Deinerin didn't snatch the garment, of course, but he did give Stefan a look that was half exasperated reprove, half wounded pride. Stefan turned his back to let the man help him into the coat, then back around to face him so his cravat and hair could be fussed at. It was something to be grateful for that Delia wasn't one to fuss, else he'd never have gotten away with putting on his own trousers. While he was being groomed he asked,
"Dinner is set in the small dining room?" Then nodded at the affirmative answer. He asked what would be served only to be interrupted by a messenger boy poking his head in to inform the two men that the guests had arrived. Deinerin informed him that liver pâté and chicken cutlets would be served with an array of 'Glade' vegetables. Almost all of the vegetables that were eaten now were 'Glade' vegetables, which just meant that they were small and tender. It wasn't a bad thing, they were being produced in large enough quantities to feed everyone, they just weren't being allowed the time it took to fully mature before they were required to feed everyone.
The small dining room had been furnished for hosting clients what seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was still fashionable enough to entertain any level of guest. Stefan walked in just as Reiner and Mr. Kavafis were being shown in the door on the opposite side of the rectangular room. The table was only meant to seat about six and only three places were currently set, but crossing the room still required several long strides before he could hold his hand out to the redheaded man.
"Mr. Kavafis," He greeted, "Welcome to the Windworks." The last, and only, time they had met previously he had been welcomed into the man's place of management so he felt comfortable doing the same. After shaking hands he turned a greeting smile on his cousin, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Please, sit and we'll eat."
Stefan handed off another sheaf of documents to Deinerin from where he stood facing the man from behind his desk in the Windworks, explaining two places he'd made changes that would need to be added to any copies. They were finishing up for the evening, officially, though both knew they would likely each spend more time on business that needed seeing to after their dinners. Two more folders went onto the pile and one went back onto his desk for additional revisions after a brief conversation about it. There were always more things that needed reading, needed doing, but between himself, his family and the counsel things had begun to run smoothly. It could be honestly said that anyone who had a grievance or a need was addressed in a timely manner depending on the time frame of their complaint. The machines of government, such as they were on the Islands and the areas they held sway over, were settling into a well oiled efficiency.
When the last issue of the work day was addressed he nodded, listened to the overview of what would be needed tomorrow, and thanked his man. He always tried to thank the people who worked for him, and it was usually returned in kind. Taking the moment while Deinerin stepped out to put away the finished work to tidy his desk he walked over to the coat rack just in time to have his manservant reappear and take the coat he'd been reaching for. Deinerin didn't snatch the garment, of course, but he did give Stefan a look that was half exasperated reprove, half wounded pride. Stefan turned his back to let the man help him into the coat, then back around to face him so his cravat and hair could be fussed at. It was something to be grateful for that Delia wasn't one to fuss, else he'd never have gotten away with putting on his own trousers. While he was being groomed he asked,
"Dinner is set in the small dining room?" Then nodded at the affirmative answer. He asked what would be served only to be interrupted by a messenger boy poking his head in to inform the two men that the guests had arrived. Deinerin informed him that liver pâté and chicken cutlets would be served with an array of 'Glade' vegetables. Almost all of the vegetables that were eaten now were 'Glade' vegetables, which just meant that they were small and tender. It wasn't a bad thing, they were being produced in large enough quantities to feed everyone, they just weren't being allowed the time it took to fully mature before they were required to feed everyone.
The small dining room had been furnished for hosting clients what seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was still fashionable enough to entertain any level of guest. Stefan walked in just as Reiner and Mr. Kavafis were being shown in the door on the opposite side of the rectangular room. The table was only meant to seat about six and only three places were currently set, but crossing the room still required several long strides before he could hold his hand out to the redheaded man.
"Mr. Kavafis," He greeted, "Welcome to the Windworks." The last, and only, time they had met previously he had been welcomed into the man's place of management so he felt comfortable doing the same. After shaking hands he turned a greeting smile on his cousin, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Please, sit and we'll eat."