Private Keeper of thy Word

[Fauvel Astier]

"Shame is worse than Death."

Azurine City,
Illyria.

The drops of rain fell heavily against the large crystal of the windows, the tears of a dark grey sky that would have seemed to make it its purpose to drown the earth under its incessant cry. The impassive eyes of the young Lady witnessed the display in silence, approval at nature's choice of weather flourishing within her. Rain was good for the fields. A sharp tug at her waist turned her attention to Nagille, her handmaiden and one of the few that had not turned tail upon the fall of House Astier, as she fastened the bindings of her dress around her torso. "Apologies, my Lady." The quiet voice of the maid broke the silence, to which she responded with a simple gesture of her hand dismissing her apology and without offering further words. The young Lady of House Astier was not simply contemplating the weather but steeling her mind and carefully tailoring her plan her plan for the day ahead.

Her musings would be stopped for a second and final time when a knock upon the door caused the handmaiden to turn her head just as she finished her task. Fauvel had no need to inquire who was behind the door, knowing her brother to have impeccable timing. Now appropriately dressed, she gestures for Nagille to open the door. In came a man several years older than the white-haired youth that stood in the middle of the room by a mirror, yet the resemblance between them was still quite easy to spot. Alain Astier, her now eldest sibling after the execution of the other three. "Good morning, my Lady." His deep voice filled the room as he bowed his head deeply at his sister.

"We are ready to depart at your command." Fauvel turned her eyes away from him at his words, evident distaste surfacing her features at the prospect of the coming meeting. It repulsed her to have to stoop as low as to make an appeal at the Illyrian Planetary Bank's to discuss nothing other than debt. The word alone filled her mouth with a bitter taste. And even worse, she had to request an extension in the terms of payment of it.

Fauvel had been raised and educated with the idea that one day it would be her behind one of the most prominent and influential banking enterprises of her planet, it would be her the ruthless collector and her granting the 'kindness' of extensions and loans to defenseless and fearful debtors. Yet now she found herself in the shoes of the last, her previous dreams feeling more like an impossible fantasy. The decisions of her predecessors had seen her future and that of her once mighty House crushed, and now the young girl had no other option but to swallow the pride she had been taught to have and lower her head as she tried to juggle the many perils that threatened to destroy what little was left of the noble name of the Astiers.

"The meeting could be rescheduled, my Lady. I cou-" A sharp raise of the young one's hand was enough to silence the man. The frigid stare of the Lady that was barely over her childhood years stabbing into Alain's eyes like daggers.

"Do not speak nonsense, brother. I will see this issue through today, otherwise I would not have requested this audience." The Lady had a low and serpentine voice, its felted softness contrasting with the sharpened edges of its sounds. Without adding no furthers words, the began walking towards the room's door, the ornaments clung to the ends of her air creating a light tingle as she moved. Nagille did a short courtesy as her Lady passed by her side, while Alain turned to follow his sister like a faithful guardian. She knew her brother had only meant to offer a way relieving her of the stressful nature of their current situation, but she was no longer a child that required shielding nor could she afford to be. As for her bluntness, that was a trait she did not feel the need to hide in the presence of her siblings.

~~~​

An hour and a half later, the small party arrived at the gates of the Illyrian Planetary Bank. Fauvel had purposefully chosen to arrange for housing on the outskirts of Azurine city, knowing to avoid being seen openly in the public given the nature her visit to the capital. So without any grand or remarkable displays, the Young Lady made her way into the building accompanied by her brother. Today and once more, debt would breed promises. And hers had better be convincing if she had any hope of not falling deeper into the pit of disgrace. She awaited to be guided into the office were the audience would take place, ignoring the stares of the Bank's workers with practiced contempt.

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

Bad Blood, Bad Credits
​

Although the Illyrian Planetary Bank did not openly grant favoritism to those blessed by good breeding, they did openly rebuke those whose blood had been besmirched at the end of the Hundred Year War. When the King took control of the world he flooded the economy with credits. Some with an expectation of repayment and some without. While this created a booming stimulant to the economy, it was not the only benefit. Those loyal to the King were given priority in their financial transactions while those who remained defiant were placed at the bottom of every possible list. Such was the fate of House Astier. Once the family had been so prominent in the lands their aspirations could have once brought them into the fold of the Planetary Bank, but that was a long time ago. As few friends they held at court, they held even fewer in the Banking Community.

When the delegation from House Astier arrived, they were treated with no honored courtesy. They were bid to wait in the common area with the rest of the citizens. The privilege of a private waiting area was above this house.

It was nearly an hour before a representative of the Banking Committee finally stepped out into the waiting room. The middle aged man seemed to turn his head up at the sight of the young woman and her brother, yet he spoke in a practiced, respectful manner. "My Lady. We are ready to receive you now." He said, before gesturing down the main hall of the bank.

The entirety of the building had a minimalist design that showed the frugality of the Banking Operation as a whole. The employees were dressed extremely conservatively while the walls had nothing but a simple opal wallpaper as decoration. There were a number of kiosks and desks that had filled the common area. The workers kept their eyes firmly locked upon the myriad of documents and personnel that were presented before them. Not one looked up, not one turned from their work.

The Lady and elder brother were led into a small office. There was a single window in the side of the office displaying a nearby street that ran along the Planetary Bank. The room also came with a single desk that had a small pitcher of water and a single glass. The administrator who escorted the two to the room cleared his throat before walking over to a door on the other side of the desk. He racked his knuckles over the door twice before pulling it open. The man who stood behind the door wore a crisp slate suit and had deep, brown hair with narrow eyes and a long pointy nose. His physique was lithe, yet not quite gaunt. Though he walked with a rigid march, as if every step was chosen and calculated.

In his hands were a number of files and a single datapad. He moved to sit down, setting the items upon the table in a particular fashion before clasping his hands together. "Good afternoon. I am Alexander D'artagn. Assistant-Chief Financier for the Planetary Banking System." The man had a thick Illyrian accent, yet spoke in Basic, as it was the language of Law and Finance in Illyria. "Miss Fauvel Astier." He said sharply, annotating the woman's name in his record. "You requested a meeting with the Planetary Bank approximately one months ago, requesting a reallocation and extenuate to your numerous outstanding debts. Let us take a look at your portfolio." The man flipped the file over, before looking over the words written on the papers before him. "You have a Class B debt tracker, meaning you are tracking over three outstanding debts of considerable amount. This makes you uneligible for any loans over two thousand credits. Your first debt, for two hundred thousand credits is three months past due. It has accrued a penalty of five thousand credits. Your second debt, for one hundred and fifty-five thousand credits is a month past due and has accrued a penalty of five thousand credits. Finally, your last debt for seventy-five thousand credits is three weeks past due and has accrued a penalty of one thousand credits."

"Based on your payment history there has been a noticeably decline in your progressive payment accounts. However, you wish to roll your debts together and have them extended another year? This is highly unlikely, my Lady. You are currently over five-hundred thousand credits in debt, over three-hundred thousand of these are outstanding for a time period over two weeks. Even without these three considerable loans you still have over a hundred thousand credits in smaller loans that will come due before the end of the year."

"I am afraid you will need to provide considerable collateral to balance the risk of allowing you a continuation. If you cannot then asset seizure will be the next step in the process. I am sure you understand this as it is not the first time your House has had its assets seized." The final quip was a blatant shot taken against the woman and her House, or more specifically her House's fall to ruin.

Fauvel Astier

 

[Fauvel Astier]

The young lady stood, arming herself with a patience that some time ago would have been foreign to her nature. They were made to wait as peasants and among the peasant, and the sting of the gesture was still felt even if she had expected as much. Fauvel had no true revulsion for those of lower birth, but just like many privileged creatures she still expected - even if unconsciously - to be recognized and treated with more respect and more attention than the one spared to them. Yet now the roles were reversed, if anything the Lady was inclined to believe that they were being served an even lesser fate. The peasants were made to wait because they were peasants and no one would think twice of it. But she was made to wait deliberately; to be made an example. To hurt her already wounded pride.

But she emitted no complaints, she held her tongue and waited. Her brother respected his sibling's silence, and brooded much like she did without allowing the true distaste that the situation invoked to show in his steeled features. Eventually a representative deigned to make his arrival and guide them towards an office. Fauvel offered a perfectly crafted smile, a masterpiece of falsehood that would have gone unnoticed were it not for the ruthless look her tourmaline eyes send the representative's way as soon as she noticed the arrogance of his body language. The Astiers followed, and soon they found themselves in a small room that was also beneath what they were used to. But Fauvel did not allow herself to dwell on that reality for long, focusing her mind on the task at hand.

As soon as the Financier entered and took his seat, Fauvel did the same choosing the chair exactly opposite him. Alain remained standing, forever guarding the shoulder of his young charge and liege. The young Lady's face was neutral and some would have even said welcoming, the utter coldness she usually sported replaced by a much more embracing one. She was the spitting image of her mother, the Lady Marine, famed for her gentleness and courteous disposition. Of course, it was very few who knew she was also a sly and capable woman. Fauvel would disagree with the last two attributes, in the eyes of her child, the mother had been as guilty as the father for their stupidity, and had paid the price...but not in full. That punishment was Fauvel's to suffer.

She had taken offense at the man taking his seat before she had and at being addressed as 'miss' and not by her proper title. Even the representative had offered her that courtesy. The aggravation did nothing but increase as the man recounted with abundant detail her family's dues. But far from lashing out and ruining her chances, she silently and secretly seethed, allowing her rage to turn into focus, making a tool of a disadvantage. Fauvel would never be grateful for her misfortune, but it had endowed her with valuable skills.

"I am well aware of our current financial situation, monsieur. An unfortunate one indeed." Her last admission was but a well tailored cover for the implied harshness of her first words, she did not appreciate being lectured in matters that were well within her knowledge. The Lady had dedicated much of her time to prepare her proposal, for a bright mind was not required to recognize they were standing on feeble ground, ready to give beneath their feet and paint the ending stop to the story of the House of Astier. "If House Astier were to fail to pay off the debt owed to the Illyrian Planetary Bank within one year's time, in full, the banking contracts held by the Obsidian Bank by the end of said year will be allotted to the to the collateral's holder, your bank." The young Lady lost no time with idle conversation, and instead forwarded her proposal. The Regne de Sang was the only territory in which the Illyrian Planetary Bank could not settle as the sole banking provider due to the existence of the Obsidian Bank. Fauvel was offering a monopoly, and even then she could feel the grip of anxiousness in her heart because it might not be enough to sway the Financier.

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

From the moment that the Lady sat down it was evident that the young woman was no friend to the banking system. Yet, the lady had offered forth a valid offer. So much so that the Banking Official had to take a moment of pause. His eyes glanced down at the papers that rested down below him and he could not help but wonder of the laurels that would come from the destruction of such a downtrodden House such as the Astier's.

There were a few moments of pause before the man ran a hand over his chin in consideration. He looked back down to the papers that rested on his desk and couldn't help but smile softly at the young Lady. "Well, this is an interesting deal." The man said, before tapping his chin a bit.

"I could be persuaded to extend your loan...for an extra twenty-five percent." The up-charge was a considerably ridiculous one, seeing as how none of the young woman's loans had any more interest than five percent per loan. A Twenty-Five percent up-charge would bring the total loan up to nearly one million galactic standard credits. Not to mention the worth of the Obsidian Bank which, even in current states, was considerable.

"However that is merely for the loan extension. We must also cover the collateral on your newly accrued interest." The man seemed to be considering something particular before speaking out. "The collateral for your interest will be your ancestral home. The Astier family Estate is one that has sat in Illyria for generations and would fetch a considerable price on the open market."

The Banker stood up from his seat, quickly tapping in a number of things into his datapad as if a droid gone possessed. Once he was finished tapping the information in he shifted the datapad over to the woman, allowing her to see a rough draft of the contract they had just discussed.

"House Astier has three-hundred and ninety-two days to deliver the total amount of credits to the Planetary Bank or we will seize the Obsidian Bank, your home, and all lands and claims equal to our loss. This is the only deal that I am willing to consider, my lady. The choice is yours. If not, we will begin the asset reclamation process immediately."

Fauvel Astier

 

[Fauvel Astier]

Her already little and withered heart was clenched with hate as she heard the words of the Financier. The young Lady felt her brother try to move towards the banker before he actually did, and once more a sharp gesture of her hand stopped him. Silence dominated the small office for several moments as the youngest Astier processed the outrageous proposal. The interest he demanded was well beyond her limits, and her plans had not foreseen for such a ruthless condition. As the situation was, even if she accepted the terms there was no way they could meet the expected payment in the given time. They would need a miracle. And Fauvel did not believe in miracles.

The sickly pale liquid that flowed within her boiled as the Financier proceeded, and dared make mention of the Astier estate in his terms. Why, you little roach. But she could not allow herself to give voice to her thoughts. She was standing between a wall and a sword. With as little hope as they had agreeing to the proposal seemed like a way to lengthen their agony and refusing it, a swifter death. A coward would have chosen the second one, but the young Lady had showed her courage for quite some time now to let go of it simply because she was faced once more with the thing that would do nothing but end her sufferings if it came to be: the last failure of her House. No, Fauvel would not give this man or anyone the satisfaction of her fall until she had spent the very last drop of life and power that resided within her being.

Her resolve, however, did not make the words easier to say. The little monster, as she was often called by other nobles, felt how her dark claws threatened to unsheathe themselves as she gathered her voice, "I agree to your terms, Monsieur." With effort, she managed to keep her tone just as it had been before the turn of events enraged her so. Then the young Lady made a silent promise. She would remember the name Alexander D'artagn, until the day she could crush him or carry this intention with her into the abyssal pits of hell. This much she was certain of, and in this life or the next she would see him and all those who disrespected her regret the day they decided to scorn the young Lady of House Astier.

She could have bared the imposition of the unfeasible tax rate by simply blaming it on the insatiable ambitious that often characterized those in this line of business. But asking her to concede the stead that had been the domain and home of all those who shared her blood was an insult she would not let slip. Fauvel kept her silence, awaiting for the banker to produce the papers that needed signing so that this scandalous abuse of an agreement could be deemed official. Once he did, the Lady carefully read each one of them before providing her sign and setting the seal of House Astier upon their surface. The young one had made a point to take her time, giving room for no unfavorable loopholes or unmentioned disadvantages. She was already risking too much. Upon signing the last paper, she stood from her chair and allowed her harsh gaze to fall on the Financier, "I will see you again in a year, Monsieur D'artagn" and not a day before.

The High Court of Illyria