Private Return to the Rainspire

[Aurelian Veruna]

The Rainspire hadn't changed, not really. Oh, the drapes had been replaced - something richer, darker, clearly meant to signal gravitas instead of hospitality - but the bones were the same. Still perched arrogantly on the cliffside like a hawk surveying lesser birds, still polished within an inch of its ancestral ego. The House Veruna crest hung above the arched entry, glinting under Parrlay's evening rain like it had personally declared war on subtlety.

Aurelian dismounted with the practiced grace of a man who had never once been told "no." His cloak fluttered as a valet took it, one eyebrow raised at the monogrammed "AV" embroidered in silver thread. He offered the poor man a smile just wide enough to imply menace.

Inside, the din of polite power had already begun. Glasses chimed, laughter echoed - rehearsed, musical, fake. The local dignitaries of Parrlay were all here, preened like songbirds, hungry for alliance or influence or both. Aurelian wove through them like smoke in a ballroom, a smile here, a nod there, a full-bodied chuckle when absolutely necessary. He shook hands with men who once spat at his family name and kissed the cheeks of women who'd once called them "ghosts of a dead line."

But then he saw her.

At the edge of the receiving room, under the shadow of a Ruurian chandelier, stood a girl - or no, not a girl anymore. A young woman now. Slight, sharp around the eyes, her posture saying "don't look at me" while her presence demanded exactly that. Enshid.

Aurelian's smile thinned into something more complicated. Something older.

He excused himself from a portly merchant whose breath smelled like expired ambition, and crossed the marble floor with the slow, theatrical confidence of a man used to holding court.

"Ah," he said, stopping just close enough to speak softly but be heard. "The scandalous shadow returns to the Rainspire. Or did you never leave?"

"It's been some time, sister. You look...well. Less like a thief. More like an asset."

His voice carried the polished venom of nobility: charming, edged, deliberate.

"Tell me - have you come to sabotage the dinner, or merely to survive it?"

Enshid Veruna​

 

[Enshid Veruna]

Aurelian Veruna

She rested her hand along her shoulder as Enshid looked around the Rainspire. It was both familiar and unfamiliar to her. The gazes of dignitaries both making her want to shrink in on herself whilst also hold her head up high. An internal clash happening as she debated whether to stand like the Nobility she was by blood or to shrink in like the insignificant fly she felt like at heart.

It was different to when she was in classes, with people her own age. These were people who were experts with their words. They had experience that Enshid was nowhere near. It all felt so fake to her. The laughter, the smiles. it was like a theatre performance compared to the feelings she saw out in the real world. Out there where people showed their true colours, compared to here where everything was hidden behind sickly soft velvet.

Though then he approached. Aurelian Veruna . Instinctively, Enshid's shoulders tensed up. When was the last time she had seen him? She had seen his face plenty of times digitally, but this different. It was in person. He could actually see her. It was all she really wanted. For her family to actually see her...but it was clear to her in the way that he spoke, that she was not being seen positively.

"...I haven't came to sabotage anything, Brother. I want to be..."

What did she want to be? Her voice was hesitant. If this had been anyone else, there might have been aggression or even anger in her voice. Some kind of defiance. She didn't want to be here, but at the same time she wanted to be useful. To be an asset to the family, even if it meant walking into a den of vipers. She had felt hurt to be compared to a thief. In a way, that was what she had used to be. She took in a steady breath, gripping onto her shoulder.

"...I want to be part of the family. Properly. I'm...back. For good this time."

She was honest. Truthful. Enshid didn't have the skills in lying, or hiding the truth between half-lies like some people did. She was near enough an open book, when it came to those she had trusted or saw as family.​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Aurelian tilted his head at that - slowly, theatrically, the way a hawk might when something small and earnest flutters across its field of vision. His eyes flicked over her: not just what she wore, but how she wore it - like armor she hadn't quite earned. His smile didn't falter, but it changed again, growing quieter around the edges.

"Back," he echoed, like the word had some quaint, nostalgic flavor to it. "And for good, no less."

His gaze dipped, not unkind, just... forensic.

"You've grown." He said it like it was mildly inconvenient. "Not taller, sadly, but… more composed. I suppose that counts."

A brief pause. Then: "And you want to be part of the family." The words hung in the air for a beat too long, before he continued, voice low, almost intimate. "That's not something people usually want, Enshid. They survive it. They manageit. Like a disease in the blood. Or a title they never asked for."

He leaned in, ever so slightly, just enough to close the gap without touching.

"But if you're serious - truly serious - then I suppose it's time someone told you the rules. Not the ones Father commissions in gold leaf. The real ones. The ones that decide whether you end up sipping vintage in Theed... or choking on it in a ditch."

Then, mercifully, he stepped back, all the tension bleeding into a perfectly civil nod.

"Stay close tonight. There are names you'll need to remember. Faces you'll want to forget. And more than a few who will smile as they sharpen knives. Welcome home, little sister."

His smile returned, crooked and glittering. "Try not to embarrass us."

Enshid Veruna​

 

[Enshid Veruna]

Aurelian Veruna

Every fibre of her was on edge. Tense. Like an animal waiting for the slightest moment to run. As if she was surrounded by predators ready to pounce and dissect every action. Every movement. In fact she expected that was already happening as she stared ahead of herself, not letting her eyes dart towards Aurelian.

"Usually people might not want that. But I am not a usual person."

Whilst she should have been annoyed about the height comment...It actually brought the slight curve of a smile to her face. It was almost like a joke yet she didn't dare laugh at it. Enshid had to stay focused. Aurelian was right in a way. Being part of the family did feel like some kind of disease was running through her, but she wanted to take control of her blood. She was the one in charge of it, not the other way around.

"...I've never been a fan of anything vintage."

The smile played at her lips once more, before letting her face fall back to a more neutral expression. She was serious about this. She needed to learn the rules. The faces and names she'll want to remember. It was going to be a game she wasn't fond of, but it was one she had to play whether she liked it or not. And those who wanted to smile at her, whilst they prepared to stab her in the back? Well, she was experienced in stabbing others herself.

"I'll keep my mouth shut. That's the best way for me not to embarrass us."

This was neither the time nor place for her to try and catch up with Aurelian. This was an acting role that Enshid had to take as she took in a deep breath and a thin lipped smile, before preparing to stay close to Aurelian Veruna​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Aurelian's eyes narrowed - not in disapproval, but in something far more dangerous: amusement. The kind that crackled like static before a lightning strike.

"Oh," he murmured, with the air of someone discovering a particularly sharp edge on an otherwise dull letter opener. "You'll keep your mouth shut, will you?"

He turned his head, scanning the room with all the ease of a man choosing which wine to uncork - then smiled as if he'd found a particularly old vintage.

"Perfect. In that case," he said, his tone brightening like a dagger catching sunlight, "come meet Dockmaster Varn."

He didn't wait. Aurelian pivoted with the effortless confidence of someone who'd never once tripped over a carpet or his own conscience, gesturing lazily for her to follow as he carved a path through the velvet-and-gold menagerie of Parrlay's political elite.

"There's an issue with the union," he murmured as they walked, voice casual, like discussing a stubborn stain on a cufflink. "Something about grain tariffs. Or steel weight limits. Honestly, I stopped listening after the third syllable." He flicked a glance at her. "But you won't."

They arrived at a stocky man in his fifties, skin weathered like old rope and a beard that looked carved out of salt. Dockmaster Varn didn't so much stand as loom, his bulk a polite threat to the surrounding wine glasses. He was dressed like he'd been forced into formality by a hostage situation.

Aurelian clapped him on the shoulder. "Varn, you old sea wolf. Have you met my sister?"

Varn's gaze shifted, slow and measuring, settling on Enshid like he was assessing her value by the crate.

"She's come back to the fold," Aurelian said smoothly. "And I thought - what better way to prove she's ready than by helping you with that… delightful little problem of yours."

He smiled at Enshid, all brotherly affection and razorblade encouragement.

"Be a dear and negotiate us a better deal, would you? Father will be ever so pleased. I'll be right over there" he pointed toward a nearby conversation of powdered wigs and insincere laughter, "drinking something outrageously expensive and pretending I'm not listening."

He leaned in just slightly, voice like silk soaked in something acidic.

"And remember - this isn't school. There are no teachers here. Just winners and corpses. And Veruna's are winners." Then, with a parting pat to her shoulder that managed to feel both supportive and mocking, he slipped away into the crowd, already bored again.

Enshid Veruna​

 

[Enshid Veruna]

Aurelian Veruna

Why did she feel like she was going to regret her words already? She should have just kept her mouth shut about her well...shutting her mouth. And she was quickly about to find out that she had the right feeling as Aurelian brought her to meet the Dockmaster. A small frown gracing her face for a moment before she wiped it away with a fake smile. It didn't quite meet her eyes, she wasn't trained in the skill of putting on a mask, and so she was going to need to get much more experience in the act if she was honest to herself.

Though her ears perked up at the mentioning of an issue with a union. That was something she might actually be able to aid with, considering the time she had spent with the common people. It did mean she might have a somewhat bias perspective in favour of the regular people which would be an issue with choosing her loyalty between the People and her family but that was something she'd have to come to terms with if it came to that. For now she just followed Aurelian, keeping her head down low.

She stayed quiet as Aurelian introduced her, trying not to frown at the the gaze Varn was giving her. If anything however, she felt far more...relaxed around the man. He seemed far more the commoner compared to the rest and seemed as out of place here as she did. So when she finally broke out into a smile, it was at least more real.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Dockmaster. Aurelian was telling me that you were having an issue with the Union? What exactly is plighting you?"

As soon as Aurelian left to join the nearby conversation, Enshid allowed herself a moment to relax, to let the stress leave her shoulders as her posture fixed itself some more. It helped that the Dockmaster made her feel more at ease than the rest of the nobility here. There was a part of her that even felt like he might not be the type to stab her in the back but she knew she shouldn't let her guard down that much.​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Dockmaster Varn eyed Enshid with the slow, deliberate scrutiny of a man used to dealing with crates labeled "volatile" and "do not stack." His face didn't shift much - he had the kind of expression carved by salt wind and chronic disappointment - but when Enshid spoke, something behind his eyes flickered. Maybe surprise. Maybe amusement. Or maybe just the reflexive cataloging of an unexpected variable.

"Aye," he grunted, voice like gravel being stirred with a crowbar. "That boy - your brother - he's got a talent for throwing people into fires and calling it a test. Good to see the habit runs in the blood."

He took a sip from his cup - cheap, uncut, definitely not on the menu - and leaned closer, not out of aggression, but familiarity. The way people who work with their hands do when words are meant to mean something.

"It's the grain weights," he said bluntly. "Port Authority's looking to raise tariff bands again. Say it's about transport costs, about security checks. Pfft." He spat the sound to the side like it left a bad taste. "Truth is, the nobles want more coin off every freighter that hits the dock. No surprise there."

Varn tilted his glass at her like a toast. "But it breaks the union contracts. Which breaks the men. You raise the tariff, my crews get laid off, shifts get longer, food gets lean. I lose a third of my dockhands by the next harvest cycle."

He leaned back just enough to scan her face, gauging. "Now your brother, gods bless his smug little face, thinks we'll just swallow it. That we'll bend for the 'greater good' of House Veruna. But I remember Remus's father. And I remember your mother's eyes. She helped feed the Market in lean seasons. So before I go to war over tariffs, I want to know which Veruna you are, girl."

Meanwhile, across the room, Aurelian watched.

Not openly. That would ruin the fun. But his gaze tracked the two of them through the reflective stem of a crystal glass, the surface curved just enough to make the moment feel theatrical. He was laughing lightly with Baroness Kess, some rehearsed line about wine and war and widowhood, but his attention was on Enshid.

But Varn was a shark in boots, and he didn't show his teeth unless he smelled something bleeding. Aurelian let the Baroness drone on as he swirled his wine, eyes flicking back to his sister - no longer the alley-urchin, not quite the courtier.

Enshid Veruna​

 

[Enshid Veruna]

Aurelian Veruna

Hm. This was complicated. Both because it wasn't a simple fix, but also because it felt like it was trying to make her choose a side. The people or her family. But Enshid was not foolish enough to think those were the only two choices. If she put her mind to it, she was sure she'd be able to come up with something that would work for both sides. It wouldn't be an easy fix no matter what. Even as she felt like the Dockmaster might be trying to take advantage of her. She had to come up with a solution that both let the workers continue to get paid whilst also making sure her House still got its payment...

"From what I understand...Both the excuses for the tariffs are both security costs and transport, yes? The security costs aren't something I think could be worked around...but is there a possibility that you can transport the goods yourself? You could do it as a separate function to your ship work. And it could perhaps give you a more steady income, by having your own transport company. Whilst you're at sea, they could continue to work, transporting other Goods."

Of course, there was the chance that they could also get affected by the nobility, but it was an extra avenue of cash flow for the Dockmaster. It almost meant he could move some of his men to work on transport and wouldn't have to rely on the harvest cycle for their wages.

"There would be still be some downsides of course. The security costs may increase, and there's perhaps a bigger risk of something going wrong on land but it still opens up a new avenue for you to explore."

That was her idea at the very least. But at the end of the day, that was just it. An idea. She wasn't experienced in how this worked. For all she knew, her idea could be ridiculous but she was going to do what she could. Enshid was willing to hear the Dockmaster out, which was perhaps more than most would. The topic bore her, and was mind-numbing, but she'd listen all the same. Though her eyes did narrow at Varn for a moment.

"And for your information, I am Enshid Veruna. I am neither my father, nor my mother. Don't expect me to act like either."

Her tone was perhaps filled with more of an edge than she wanted, but it was also the truth. Enshid wanted to be her own member of the family. To have her own place. She kept her eyes narrowed at the same time. The market might struggle depending on what happens, but at the same time, she knew it would survive. Enshid knew there were perhaps...less than legal ways to end a wage in the Market. The smugglers and the spice merchants, but she wasn't going to report that. Not unless she was given a reason to.​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Dockmaster Varn let the silence stretch. He swirled the contents of his cup once, watching the cheap spirit spin like stormwater circling a drain, before finally letting out a low chuckle - dry, tired, and not entirely unkind.

"Well now," he said, voice softer than expected, like iron wrapped in an old wool coat. "A Veruna offering a dock rat a business tip. Thought I'd die before I saw that."

He eyed her again - not with suspicion this time, but with the hard, appraising squint of a man who'd once had to test a rope by hanging from it.

"Transport, eh? Not a bad angle. Costly up front. Would take a proper partner to front the creds, maybe House Alenta or one of the mid-tier shipping guilds. They've got wagons rotting in warehouses. Could be doable."

He grunted, the sound somewhere between agreement and warning.

"But the numbers have to sing, girl. Otherwise it's just more song and less bread. And I don't deal in song unless it buys me a dockhand's supper."

Varn tapped his cup against hers with a faint clink.

"I'll draft something. You get your brother to look it over. If he doesn't sneer at it outright, maybe we'll talk real deals next week. But if he tries to cut me short on the back end, I'll gut the deal and feed it to the swamp eels."

Then, after a pause, he leaned in just a little.

"And Enshid Veruna?" He said it slowly, like testing the name in his mouth. "Good. Be yourself. Just don't forget what the Market taught you. Nobles think they rule with law. But down here? We still trade in debt and loyalty."

Across the room, Aurelian raised his glass just slightly - a ghost of a toast, or maybe a warning.

He hadn't moved, hadn't spoken, hadn't needed to.

But the smile had returned. Dangerous. Delighted.

She hadn't sunk. Not yet.

And more importantly… she'd bitten back.

Enshid Veruna​

 

[Enshid Veruna]

Aurelian Veruna

She wasn't entirely a fan of the dock rat comment. It wasn't long since Enshid had technically considered herself one of them. Of course, now she was more important than a simple dock rat. Maybe she had always been more important and refused to accept it. She had thought she could focus on one side of her life whilst ignoring it. Maybe that was her problem. She had spent too long trying to choose one side or the other when in reality both of them were a part of her...No. This wasn't the time for her to think about stuff like that. She couldn't let herself get vulnerable.

"Last time I checked, investments don't give money straight away. It might be song for now, but on a bad harvest season, it could be a life saver. You'll have to deal with the Song before you get the real Music."

With that, Enshid took a sip of her drink, wrinkling her nose in frustration. She hadn't wanted to be thrown into the deep end in her first little venture but at the very least, she believed she had survived it. Though the Dockmaster was also right. She knew how little some could care about the law in the Market and how they could get around it. If she had been more heartless, perhaps she would have reported how they got around it...but for now, she was going to stay quiet. The people deserved their chance to live. If she couldn't do the work needed for change with her own words...Then maybe they'd need to have the Law crack down on them.

"I will say however, if you expect me to be able to make my brother "do" anything, you'll be disappointed. He'll look at it if he wants to. I doubt me asking him to would help in any way."

She kept her voice somewhat hushed at it, but it was true. She was in no place to tell Aurelian to look at a draft. If he looked at it, he looked at it. It wouldn't be on her shoulders as she took another sip to try and focus her mind.​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Varn gave a slow, almost approving grunt as Enshid spoke - though whether it was for her words or the way she wrinkled her nose at the taste of dockhand liquor was impossible to say. He tapped the rim of his cup against his teeth once, a private tic of thought, then nodded as if her comment about the "real music" had landed somewhere near clever.

"Spoken like someone who's had to count credits by candlelight," he muttered. "I'll give you this, girl - you've got less polish than the rest of them, but at least your spine isn't made of velvet."

He leaned in, tone dropping, something conspiratorial creeping into his voice.

"And if you ever do figure out how to make your brother 'do' anything, write it down. Sell it to the Assembly. You'll be richer than the Crown."

There was a brief pause - just long enough for the Dockmaster to take another sip, wipe his mouth with the back of a calloused hand, and give her one last measuring look.

"Alright then. You didn't embarrass yourself. I'll take it."

Aurelian's voice floated in before his silhouette appeared.

"Careful, Varn. If you compliment her too much, she'll start expecting warm welcomes everywhere she goes."

The prince of Parrlay emerged from the milling crowd with that infuriating mix of ease and intent - his smile was casual, but his eyes were already locked on the Dockmaster's, dissecting, calculating.

"Enshid," he said smoothly, swirling the last of his drink before handing it off to a nearby servant without breaking stride. "Have you solved the logistical nightmare of our generation yet, or should I prepare a formal apology to the spice markets and throw myself into the bay?"

His tone was all jest, but his gaze flicked between her and Varn with laser focus. He was reading posture, temperature, breath - sizing up what hadn't been said.

Varn straightened slightly, but didn't bristle. He wasn't stupid.

"She held her own," the Dockmaster said plainly. "Suggested we branch into transport - open a channel through unused guild wagons. Could buffer the layoffs. Might work. We'll draw it up."

"Mm." Aurelian's lips pressed into something that looked almost like a smile but didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Smart," he said at last, casually. "Of course, I assume you'll want exclusive contracts. Preferential weights. Maybe a little blind-eye accounting while we're at it?"

"Only if you don't offer first," Varn replied, with the faintest twitch of a grin.

Aurelian's expression didn't change, but Enshid would know the look behind his eyes - a flicker of silent approval wrapped in twenty layers of smug. He'd seen the offer beneath the words. And more importantly, he'd seen her hold the line.

"Well," Aurelian said, brushing a speck of lint from his cuff like the conversation was merely fashion commentary. "Let's see the draft when it's ready. I'll decide then whether I need to sabotage it... or steal credit for it."

He turned to Enshid, voice dropping to something warmer - but no less sharp.

"You can breathe now, by the way. That was your first negotiation."

A beat. Then, "Try to remember it fondly when the next one ends with someone throwing a chair."

Enshid Veruna​

 

[Enshid Veruna]

Aurelian Veruna

"Well if I ever do figure out how to make him do something, I'm keeping it to myself as a trade secret. I sell it, and people will just end up cutting me out and dealing with him themselves."

Enshid couldn't help but break out into a small grin at that. The first time since she arrived here that she had an honest to goodness smile on her face. The stress had almost fully left her shoulders at this point. Of course, she still had to be on edge but she could at least let herself relax knowing that she didn't make an utter and complete fool of herself. She could be proud of herself. At least she felt like that until Aurelian had returned, and the tension slowly started to build within her once more.

"I wouldn't say it was a total nightmare. It's not entirely a daydream either, but it seems possible to fix with some hardwork and a little bit of faith. As long as the people working know that this won't be some kind of get rich fast scheme."

She knew there were people like that. They'd sign up on a new venture thinking it would make them credits in no time at all, only to find out that it was some kind of long road. That it would take a fair bit of time before they found themselves getting any sizable amount of credits. It was something she had been used to seeing. Some of those her age back in the Market turning towards some less than legal ways of getting credits because it would be faster in the short term. Yet what Enshid understood at least was that whilst you'd get plenty in the short term, you'd pay for it in the long term.

Her eyes darted over towards Aurelian for a moment, as he said that she could breathe. There was still a paranoid part of her that thought this was some kind of test still. That everything she did was some kind of thing to be dissected and examined but she let out a long sigh, trying to let herself calm down. There was a part of her that wanted to comment that it wouldn't be stealing the credit if she gave him permission to use it...but that felt like it was not important to say either way.

"Well. Whoever throws that chair will find out that this Veruna knows how to fight dirty and with her hands. And I for one can't wait to show that off."

A small smile graced her face once more. Whilst she didn't actively hope for a negotiation to turn violent, there was a part of her eager to show off that she could fight. Words weren't her strong suit and she knew it. She knew that other people could notice that as well. No, instead she wanted to show what she could do. But for now she rested her hands behind her back, standing up ever so slightly taller with more confidence in herself at this point.

​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Aurelian tilted his head as Enshid spoke, his expression somewhere between intrigue and mockery - his usual setting when surprised by someone he underestimated. He didn't interrupt. He never interrupted when someone was starting to show teeth. That was when things got interesting.

And stars above, she was starting to show teeth.

Her posture had shifted - less "cornered street rat," more "rookie soldier still figuring out which end of the blade to hold." Not perfect. But better. She was finally using the Veruna name like armor instead of ballast.

"Faith and hard work," he echoed dryly, folding his arms with a theatrical sigh. "Spoken like a farm girl with delusions of politics. You're dangerously close to sounding like you believe in people."

Then he took a step closer - not threatening, just closer - and spoke low enough for only her to hear, a thread of pride woven through the sarcasm like a jewel sewn into a cuff.

"But... not bad, little shadow. Not bad at all. You kept him talking, didn't fold, and didn't offer him the moon just to avoid discomfort. That puts you above half the Assembly already."

He paused, just long enough for the next sentence to land sharp and deliberate.

"You may not speak like a noble yet, but you've got instincts. And instincts don't lie - people do."

Then, with a grin that could gut a diplomat:

"As for throwing chairs... Shiraya, I hope someone does. You'd be surprised how many votes you can win after someone's seen you bleed. Just make sure it's dramatic. If you're going to hit the floor, aim for a chandelier."

Aurelian turned on his heel with a flourish, already bored of being generous, already moving on.

"Come along, Enshid. Your reward for not humiliating the family tonight is another hour of pretending we like these people."

He looked back over his shoulder, that maddening, magnetic grin still etched on his face.

"And if someone does throw a chair, I expect you to win. Preferably with flair. We're not peasants, after all."

Enshid Veruna​