There was a sense of levity once the deed was done, when Astrid had claimed the life of the Senator and the older gentleman with him. All she had was the information that the man had provided her, the justification behind it. True or not, that was neither for her to say, nor ponder even. For whatever the reason may have been that the man felt it necessary for the Senator to be killed, in the end it did not matter. The only important was that she had gained his support. Gained their support, the company that had gathered on that night to enjoy merriment.

Now they had gathered to join with their new ally. Astrid Venier.

The next several hours were an absolute delight. Drinks, food, merriment, embarrassing stories told of Lady Tsara and company, Astrid’s retellings of her own tales on the road to Oak Town, and as well, more important matters.

Future plans. With Astrid showing her willingness to kill, the next part, easily the most difficult part, was the building of support. After some hours of delight and wine and dining, they sat to speak; Astrid, Lady Tsara, the man known as Freddie, and the rest of whom had gathered, all now having similarly thrown their support behind Astrid. The breadth of the Underworld, as her father would have once referred to them as, all having coalesced behind her.

The talks picked up into much more intense matters, the foundation to their plot established. Like Lady Tsara, there were no shortage of those who either held common interests or otherwise had reason to turn against her father, whether out of spite, conflicting agendas, fear of reprisal, whatever the reason there were plenty whom would support her.

If it were worth their while.

The problem stood that as things were, her father was perhaps one of the strongest politicians within Crocus not named King Reign. Lowering his grip over the sphere of influence that was the Crocus political realm was going to require them to slowly chip away at that support. They had some key allies already in Lady Tsara and others, but it was hardly enough to topple what was in place. Thus, when the evening came to an end, after all the merriment were over, they would move forward and set in place the next step to Astrid’s rise.

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The next morning came much earlier than what anyone wanted, Astrid especially. Night upon night of restless sleep, having to worry about the risk of someone there to potentially try to harm her, or even worse, had left her almost used to having poor sleep. The idea of awaking within a massive bed like the one she was in, as comfortable and warm and enjoyable, with as massive of a hangover as she was quickly coming to realize she was enduring for that matter, was about the last thing on her mind.

Sadly, as much as the prospect of sleep sounded appealing to her, the sad reality was that she had obligations that required, no demanded, that she get a move on. Time was a limited factor that she and everyone else whom had opted to sign on alongside her had to recognize and be mindful, if not fearful towards. Had it not been for their collective group there, even last night would have stood to be a risky proposal of enjoying the night. But, fortune was theirs to enjoy, if only for the night. With the rising of the sun, so too would the next step; perhaps the most difficult one in which any chance of success would be measured on the probability that everything goes accordingly.

For Astrid, she were to now find the Senators whom she could turn. The ones that had reason to shift their support towards her rather than her father. They were few and far between. Their price, for many may have been difficult to achieve. Some would be easy to turn. Others would be difficult, if not impossible. It was a risk, but a risk that they had to take. The value of their influence was too strong and she was going to need every single instance of support that she would be able to achieve.

There was a reprieve though for Astrid. Lady Tsara, amongst one of the Senators whom had thrown her support towards Astrid already, had a close friend that was not present at the festivities the other night. A friend whom would be easily swayable, with proper convincing, the Lady reasoned.

And so that became their morning, seeking out the aid of one Senator Elena Catlin, a favorite of the people and someone who  - as Lady Tsara explained – was worth being an ally of.

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Silence from beyond the door as the sound of the heavy bells echoed throughout the large manor that lay within the heart of Crocus. An expensive place to live, not unlike that of where Astrid had grown up within, yet it being here exposed in Crocus felt almost strange. She would have figured privacy were more of an important point, but as Lady Tsara explained, that openness was an element that the people had come to appreciate and admire of the Senator. Amongst other reasons too.

Some short time passed before the sound of heels pressed against hardwood floors began to faintly sound from the other side of the door, getting louder and louder until the door opened with a slow creek, exposing the brightly lit Astrid and Lady Tsara to a woman adorned in a lovely silken dress, standing in dimly lit light, what little sunlight peered in cascading against her lightly caramel skin. A beauty to behold, no doubt about it.

Even a single glance were enough reason for Astrid to understand the value of this woman. She was gorgeous, and her charm was inevitably going to be something that would stand to influence others, even if just from a subtle manner.

“Elena! So great to see you,” Lady Tsara exclaimed as she stepped forward and took the woman in a warm, inviting hug. The woman reciprocated and Astrid could not help but watch the body language between the two. They were certainly close, perhaps even more than what Tsara had first let on. “You were sorely missed last night…”

“My sincerest apologies. I had wanted to come, but sadly the hubby didn’t want me going out,” a frown upon the woman’s face was as much inline with malice as it were with disappointment. “Seems he seldom wants me living my life as it would be now.” Her gaze shifted as her attention turned towards Astrid, curiosity now clearly defined upon her face, “And who might this lovely woman be?”

A rush of color appeared upon Astrid’s face at the woman’s compliment, admittedly taken off guard. She glanced at the Senator, worried that she may have noticed. There was a gesture, quite what it was unclear, but she could not help but believe that her smitten nature had already been revealed.

Lady Tsara could not help but giggle at the interaction. “Allow me to introduce you to little Astrid Venier, in the flesh!”

The Senator’s mouth dropped open in disbelief at the news, “Her!? She’s your little Astrid!?” Astrid watched as the woman’s expressed changed to elation, “Please, come in!”

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The home’s interior was even more impressive than what she first figured it for being. Large, open rooms, rivalling that of the home that Astrid had seen growing up. Not the home that she had lived within; this was much larger in scale and magnificence. Despite that, it was almost like she were home again, or otherwise finding herself reflecting back to a time long, long ago.

A brief moment to reflect as the Senator prepared some tea for her two guests.

“So, your niece is all grown up and following in daddy’s footsteps, is that the gist of it?” The Senator joked with obvious condescension within her voice. It was clear that feeling towards her father was certainly not an isolated point of view. Before Astrid and Lady Tsara she put down a pair of tea glasses, filled to the rim with smoke still radiating from the rim.

Unaffected by the heat, Lady Tsara took her glass with clear appreciation, taking a small sip and dabbing her lips together as though unsure of what to assume the flavor to be. “A lovely blend. But yes, in a manner of speaking. She’s come to succeed her father in simplest terms. Freddie and the rest of the Society have already thrown their support.”

Tsara’s remark towards the man in the winery caused the Senator to raise her eyebrows in surprise. “Really!? Freddie has taken a stance, and I thought that man would never have the spine to make a move. What changed?”

Lady Tsara shot a look of pride and cruelty intertwined towards Astrid, her basking in the woman’s deed all too obvious, “Senator Hawke Forloughn.”

“I had heard his death were some sort of robbery. A random act of violence.”

“Freddie is good at spreading word appropriately.”

“So it would seem. To that, I suspect I know why you’re here. But my dear Astrid, if you would please. Tell me yourself what you would like of me, would you now?”

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“We - “ Astrid barely had time to get a word in, her attention having been so focused on wishing to try the tea that Lady Tsara spoke so highly of, the heat though being something that she could not overcome like her fellow guest. By the time she felt comfortable enough to take a sip, no more than a word escaped her lips when a different sound seemed to fill the air around them.

Footsteps.

Angry footsteps.

Footsteps of a man whom marched into the main room that the trio were in, a man whom looked incensed, furious. Barely able to maintain his composure of any sort, and the focus of his ire and range being obvious; the Senator and Lady Tsara.

“I knew it! All this time, your little ‘club’ of yours, just some excuse to see that WHORE! Wasn’t it!?” The man spewed venom in his words, his voice all but deafening in both volume and unabridged fury. The Senator looked as though she had been stabbed in the back, in utter disbelief. Meanwhile Lady Tsara seemed similarly stunned, if not more worried, not only for herself but also for that of the Senator. Astrid was not sure what to think, nor how to respond towards any of this, at least until the man turned his attention towards Lady Tsara.

“It wasn’t enough that you felt it prudent to sleep with my wife behind my back, within the very bed she share with me? No, you had to drag her to that little club of yours, huh? What, were you two to pass yourselves around like some street worker? Was that it? What, couldn’t stay away from rubbing your whorish hands away even for a night that you arrive here? Huh?” The man did not even seem to give any sort of care towards Astrid, at no point even registering the woman’s presence.

“I won’t have it. And I refuse to entertain it any further…” His words trailed off as he reached into the large coat he wore, the gleam of a large dagger coming into view as Astrid arose, taking the tea cup still in her hand and throwing it at the man’s face, his cries in pain complimenting the sound of hot liquid splashing against skin. In his immediate pain and trying to shield his eye, he failed to notice Astrid, failed to notice her getting up, and most importantly, failed to see her pull out the dagger and quickly strike it against his chest multiple times. Each strike from the tip of the blade down to the hilt, with each one his voice sounding weaker and weaker.

By the fourth blow, whatever fight, whatever anger, may have been left in him was all but gone. His body slumped to the ground in a pathetic display, a stark contrast to that of his entrance.

Meanwhile, Lady Tsara and Elena Catlin looked on, neither of them with a look of horror in their faces, but rather instead a look of relief, even delight for that matter. Though she did not know the full story, it was clear that Astrid had done what they likely had wished someone had done for a long time. And if his demeanor were any indication, there were little to no regret that Astrid towards having put the man down.

Taking a small handkerchief that lay upon the table, Astrid wiped down the dagger nonchalantly, multiple red streaks appearing upon the once white cloth. Looking towards the Senator, she smiled, “To answer your question, I plan on killing my father. But I need your help. More specifically, your support. May I count on your support when the moment should come?”

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