Maid with Necromancy

24 Representative Roland Ajax

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Flur de Red eased all aches, as Roland inhaled the smoke of the thick cigar that brought with it a hint of copper and gardenia. At a gold apiece, it was the priciest part of his morning routine. Petals from the paralytic flower, soaked in The B.A.S.T.A.R.D's blood, for the merchants who knew how to craft them, it was their true reward in Nae's Garden.

Mildly addictive, but as long as you could afford the cost, why should that matter? The masseuse working his feet wasn't half as effective. In Hazeldown, it was hard to find someone with that profession who'd evolved. a taxing inconvenience when running a financial empire.

“Mr. Ajax, a moment of your time?” Asked a familiar voice with the proper level of subservience.

If Miresly interrupted his relaxation time, it was probably time-sensitive.

“Enter.”

The way Miresly averted his eyes and trudged forward rather than back out was another sure sign of the importance of this information.  Clothes on a masseuse detracted from the morning ritual. A simple nod was all it took to urge the assistant to speak.

“Those lands that the countess deposited with our newest aristocrat. It looks like rather than burdening her, they are to be redeemed for the necromancer’s organization to make a potential push into the city council.”

White. The personage was a curse and a blessing. Plenty of extra coin to be made, but a lot of shiny new entrants were trying to get attention and coin. They didn’t appreciate the responsibility that came with seven generations of economic control.  A few more puffs of Flur de Red, and any stress around the topic drifted away. What was White but a newborn child to all of this?

“Fix it, the usual way,” Roland answered with a weak wave. Miresly should know how temporary new money could be.

The assistant's reply came with a wince, “The White Group is employing many of our best contractors.”

Consolidation wasn't unheard of, but for someone who literally just popped into existence? “Get the man who cleaned Oyster Street.”

That slight twitch was a no.

Mr. Ajax crushed the cigar in his hand, burning embers and all, and brought his feet down. One foot landed on the masseuse's hand, but they didn't squeak.

“Fine. The New Men have been complaining that we haven't had a new member on the council in half a century.  Putting the babe in ahead of those who've been lobbying for decades should be enough. Hazeldown is known as the city of the dead for more than just its dungeon.”

Miresly, with directions now left. Rowland stretched his now aching neck. “I didn't say stop.” He ordered the worker even as their hand started to turn purple and swell.

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