Stormvale was as busy as ever, perhaps more so now that Miss Lucy and Mister Calvin were seen more frequently together. A meal hosting Mister Calvin’s family set the stage for the coming holiday. The estate’s newest member, Nerralyn had been formally introduced to the Imperial courts. Adding to the excitement of the upcoming visit from the Halscotts, Calvin’s family were the arrival of Lucinyia’s sisters. Ryssa who had recently celebrated her seventeenth birthday, and Ariel who eagerly awaited her own birthday celebrations. Governess Kirby prepared herself for the girls arrival and prepared etiquette lessons while Ms. Aubert and Ms. Lenore prepared their rooms.
Fiolette caught Mr. Carrington, Stormvale’s butler, between tasks as she strode down the hall on the second floor. “Mr. Carrington, have you made your decision regarding Ms. Costigan’s brother?”
The butler, Mr. Carrington was a tall man and towered over Fiolette quite easily. He stood just over six foot four with wide shoulders. Deep set eyes that seemed to be the color of charcoal on most days. Squared off jaw and graying hair that seemed to match the thickness of a man twenty years his junior. He turned a moment to look at the Lord Admiral, she stood no more than five foot six with broad athletic shoulders. Deep red hair pulled back into a bun, held together by a flower clip. A white cardigan draped over her shoulders, it hung down along her arms and flowed around her waist. Underneath she wore a simple eggshell colored blouse that slipped over a pair of black slacks.
Mr. Carrington considered his words before answering Fiolette, the Lord Admiral. “I have decided to give Mr. Costigan a trial run, should he prove his employ worthy then I shall suggest a full-time status for him.” A brief pause as Mr. Carrington took a breath, “but, should he prove unfavorable - then Mr. Costigan will find himself looking for employment once more.”
“Sounds reasonable enough then, I’ll have him assigned to Mr. Yvarro and Mister Weller shall tend to Mister Calvin. Now then, the matter of the Halscotts, have their accommodations been prepared?” Fiolette asked expecting a rather quick answer, but Mr. Carrington shifted his weight between his feet and took another brief pause.
Fiolette held her bearings and patiently waited.
“We have their accommodations prepared, as you’ve asked and we are awaiting a response from the Halscotts, for any special preparations.”
“And?” She replied, and held her thoughts for a moment.
“We’ve not gotten a response, so perhaps if you and her ladyship have the time...”
“I shall see to their answer, Mr. Carrington.” She reassured him with a smile. Nothing further to add, the head butler gave a small nod of respect and proceeded down the hall to continue about his duties. Fiolette headed downstairs with an aim to head outside and speak with Mr. Jephcots, Stormvale’s groundskeeper.
As Fiolette set foot on the first floor, where housekeepers Sybil and Gertrude had just pulled back the curtains. The Bastion sunlight spilled into the main hall and crossed over the foyer, and gave the old wooden walls a true shine. A sense of pride swelled within the Lord Admiral. It felt good to be back home, and as she moved toward the main hall to fetch her spectacles she heard the familiar sound of the postal speeder.
Zunn Bax, a Falleen who worked for the Sith-Imperial Postal Service. Arrived without scene as he was greeted by estate security. Once clear, Mr. Bax would make his way to the front door. The Lord Admiral turned to head toward her private study which held an excellent view of the stables. She could hear Mr. Carrington’s voice just behind her accepting the mail as was his routine. He would ask Mr. Bax a few questions and then send him on his way.
Each piece of mail, whether letter or package would have been thoroughly checked and scanned before being allowed on to the property itself. Mr. Carrington was the last line of defense as he looked at the return addresses first before taking the time to look at who the mail was for. Unless the letter was marked with some sort of urgency or if it was something that either her ladyship or the admiral was looking for - he would deliver it to them immediately.
Otherwise, the letter or package would be left on their desks in their main offices on the second floor. Now then as Mr. Carrington looked through the letters as per his rituals he came across one particular letter that stuck out. He kept it on the bottom of the stack and proceeded to head up the stairs.
Her ladyship Taeli Raaf’s maid Rose Ahern was quick to intercept him by the library. Lady Raaf was in the middle of her studies and could not be bothered. This he knew, as it was often the case that Lady Raaf was quite busy with one project or another. Thus, he handed only the most urgent of letters to Miss Ahern. The others he left on her desk, separating out the ones meant for the admiral.
The one letter that stood out was indeed addressed to the admiral. It had come all the way from Galidraan, wax sealed by the attorney for the late Natasi Fortan. With haste he headed back down the stairs, nearly running over poor Mr. Suthmeer in the process. He gave the young man a belated apology and hurried along to the admiral’s private study. A gentle rap on the door frame followed by a quick, “ahem.” From Mr. Carrington who cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention.
“What is it?” Fiolette asked somewhat perturbed by the intrusion.
“A letter for you Admiral, from Galidraan, I thought you might want to see this personally.” Mr. Carrington waited until she waved him into her study.
“Shut the door.”
He turned and closed the door quietly whilst the Admiral waited for him to hand over the letter. Mr. Carrington with his back to the door took a step toward her desk. “Before I hand this to you Admiral, I want you to know that this is from the late Duchess of Foxfield’s attorney.”
Fiolette’s eyes widen as she took the letter from his hand. Indeed, as she turned the envelope over there was the wax seal. “By the balance,” she uttered in an exhale and took to her desk where her letter opener sat with its blade down in the pen holder. She was nervous about the letter she hadn’t been expecting any sort of response from Natasi’s estate. Her hand felt along the edges of the wax seal, the envelope itself came from a select stock. Produced only in the Northern part of Galidraan, Trent county if she recalled correctly. Flipping the envelope over her azure gaze studied the penmanship in which the late Duchess’s attorney made.
Delicate and with care each stroke was let to dry as the quill ran along with the thickly cut stock. Mr. Carrington wondered how long it would be before the Admiral opened the letter. He was just as curious as she as to its contents, and as the Admiral readied her letter opener. A call came to her personal computer, he sighed with some irritation and it only amused Fiolette. “Now Mr. Carrington, I am just as curious as you are and I will - open this letter soon.”
It seems she was wise in placing the letter down, the redhead had gotten word from Leona Eldrel. Leona ran into a young woman who had been looking for an Admiral Yvarro. Fiolette was curious now and responded to Leona straight away, and as it turned out the young woman was with Leona. Who does this woman claim to be, was a response that Fiolette had not only written but sent.
Leona replied, the woman - an Alliance pilot no less. Fiolette thought it bold of this young woman to be so far removed from their home. Claimed to be Fiolette’s granddaughter, the child of Ferrathias. Fiolette’s face went pale and she told Leona to hold the woman there at the port, take the woman out for tea or a meal. Whatever it took to keep her there, “and we shall certainly investigate the word of my late niece’s estate but at another time Mr. Carrington. If her ladyship asks I’ve gone to the capital’s spaceport she can reach me through my private holo.”
In a manner of seconds, the Lord Admiral hurried from Stormvale. Refusing a pilot or even a maid to accompany her. Up to the stairs, down the hall and into the bedroom she shared with her wife. Fiolette dressed out into civilian clothes, loose-fitting denim trousers with a white shirt and a leather jacket tossed over. She canvased the room looking for her key box. There she dug through until she found the set to one of her speeders. A Corellian built hoverbike posing as a speeder. Another set of flurried movements had Fiolette back down the hall, down the stairs and out the front door.
The servants couldn’t help but be puzzled by such a change in the Lord Admiral’s day to day pacing. Mr. Carrington would not speak on what had occurred in the woman’s study. Just that she had urgent business in the capital to take care of. The sound of her hoverbike roaring to life just outside the estate’s parcade drew more questions than answers.
For Fiolette there was a reason for her urgency. Ferrathias. His name ran through her mind, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. She secured her helmet and set off from Stormvale rising up over the treetops the hoverbike roared forward toward Ravelin’s massive skyline. In what seemed to be a lifetime ago, Fiolette’s sixteen-year-old son announced that he was to be a Jedi. Worse, he denounced the family’s pro-Imperial stance and wished to join the Republic. At that moment Fiolette cast him aside, disowned him with nearly the same venom that her own family had cast her out.
Decades later, here was a young woman claiming to be his daughter. Her granddaughter of all things, Fiolette felt her teeth gnash against one another. A mix of emotions brewed within as the hoverbike race along with the clouds and merged into traffic headed for the capital. Back at home word would inevitably reach Lady Raaf - her wife having departed in such haste for the capital and to a spaceport no less. The letter that came from the late Duchess's attorney perhaps the two were linked, the estate was buzzing and as much as Mr. Carrington tried to quiet it down, this sort of gossip refused to simply lay.
Fiolette caught Mr. Carrington, Stormvale’s butler, between tasks as she strode down the hall on the second floor. “Mr. Carrington, have you made your decision regarding Ms. Costigan’s brother?”
The butler, Mr. Carrington was a tall man and towered over Fiolette quite easily. He stood just over six foot four with wide shoulders. Deep set eyes that seemed to be the color of charcoal on most days. Squared off jaw and graying hair that seemed to match the thickness of a man twenty years his junior. He turned a moment to look at the Lord Admiral, she stood no more than five foot six with broad athletic shoulders. Deep red hair pulled back into a bun, held together by a flower clip. A white cardigan draped over her shoulders, it hung down along her arms and flowed around her waist. Underneath she wore a simple eggshell colored blouse that slipped over a pair of black slacks.
Mr. Carrington considered his words before answering Fiolette, the Lord Admiral. “I have decided to give Mr. Costigan a trial run, should he prove his employ worthy then I shall suggest a full-time status for him.” A brief pause as Mr. Carrington took a breath, “but, should he prove unfavorable - then Mr. Costigan will find himself looking for employment once more.”
“Sounds reasonable enough then, I’ll have him assigned to Mr. Yvarro and Mister Weller shall tend to Mister Calvin. Now then, the matter of the Halscotts, have their accommodations been prepared?” Fiolette asked expecting a rather quick answer, but Mr. Carrington shifted his weight between his feet and took another brief pause.
Fiolette held her bearings and patiently waited.
“We have their accommodations prepared, as you’ve asked and we are awaiting a response from the Halscotts, for any special preparations.”
“And?” She replied, and held her thoughts for a moment.
“We’ve not gotten a response, so perhaps if you and her ladyship have the time...”
“I shall see to their answer, Mr. Carrington.” She reassured him with a smile. Nothing further to add, the head butler gave a small nod of respect and proceeded down the hall to continue about his duties. Fiolette headed downstairs with an aim to head outside and speak with Mr. Jephcots, Stormvale’s groundskeeper.
As Fiolette set foot on the first floor, where housekeepers Sybil and Gertrude had just pulled back the curtains. The Bastion sunlight spilled into the main hall and crossed over the foyer, and gave the old wooden walls a true shine. A sense of pride swelled within the Lord Admiral. It felt good to be back home, and as she moved toward the main hall to fetch her spectacles she heard the familiar sound of the postal speeder.
Zunn Bax, a Falleen who worked for the Sith-Imperial Postal Service. Arrived without scene as he was greeted by estate security. Once clear, Mr. Bax would make his way to the front door. The Lord Admiral turned to head toward her private study which held an excellent view of the stables. She could hear Mr. Carrington’s voice just behind her accepting the mail as was his routine. He would ask Mr. Bax a few questions and then send him on his way.
Each piece of mail, whether letter or package would have been thoroughly checked and scanned before being allowed on to the property itself. Mr. Carrington was the last line of defense as he looked at the return addresses first before taking the time to look at who the mail was for. Unless the letter was marked with some sort of urgency or if it was something that either her ladyship or the admiral was looking for - he would deliver it to them immediately.
Otherwise, the letter or package would be left on their desks in their main offices on the second floor. Now then as Mr. Carrington looked through the letters as per his rituals he came across one particular letter that stuck out. He kept it on the bottom of the stack and proceeded to head up the stairs.
Her ladyship Taeli Raaf’s maid Rose Ahern was quick to intercept him by the library. Lady Raaf was in the middle of her studies and could not be bothered. This he knew, as it was often the case that Lady Raaf was quite busy with one project or another. Thus, he handed only the most urgent of letters to Miss Ahern. The others he left on her desk, separating out the ones meant for the admiral.
The one letter that stood out was indeed addressed to the admiral. It had come all the way from Galidraan, wax sealed by the attorney for the late Natasi Fortan. With haste he headed back down the stairs, nearly running over poor Mr. Suthmeer in the process. He gave the young man a belated apology and hurried along to the admiral’s private study. A gentle rap on the door frame followed by a quick, “ahem.” From Mr. Carrington who cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention.
“What is it?” Fiolette asked somewhat perturbed by the intrusion.
“A letter for you Admiral, from Galidraan, I thought you might want to see this personally.” Mr. Carrington waited until she waved him into her study.
“Shut the door.”
He turned and closed the door quietly whilst the Admiral waited for him to hand over the letter. Mr. Carrington with his back to the door took a step toward her desk. “Before I hand this to you Admiral, I want you to know that this is from the late Duchess of Foxfield’s attorney.”
Fiolette’s eyes widen as she took the letter from his hand. Indeed, as she turned the envelope over there was the wax seal. “By the balance,” she uttered in an exhale and took to her desk where her letter opener sat with its blade down in the pen holder. She was nervous about the letter she hadn’t been expecting any sort of response from Natasi’s estate. Her hand felt along the edges of the wax seal, the envelope itself came from a select stock. Produced only in the Northern part of Galidraan, Trent county if she recalled correctly. Flipping the envelope over her azure gaze studied the penmanship in which the late Duchess’s attorney made.
Delicate and with care each stroke was let to dry as the quill ran along with the thickly cut stock. Mr. Carrington wondered how long it would be before the Admiral opened the letter. He was just as curious as she as to its contents, and as the Admiral readied her letter opener. A call came to her personal computer, he sighed with some irritation and it only amused Fiolette. “Now Mr. Carrington, I am just as curious as you are and I will - open this letter soon.”
It seems she was wise in placing the letter down, the redhead had gotten word from Leona Eldrel. Leona ran into a young woman who had been looking for an Admiral Yvarro. Fiolette was curious now and responded to Leona straight away, and as it turned out the young woman was with Leona. Who does this woman claim to be, was a response that Fiolette had not only written but sent.
Leona replied, the woman - an Alliance pilot no less. Fiolette thought it bold of this young woman to be so far removed from their home. Claimed to be Fiolette’s granddaughter, the child of Ferrathias. Fiolette’s face went pale and she told Leona to hold the woman there at the port, take the woman out for tea or a meal. Whatever it took to keep her there, “and we shall certainly investigate the word of my late niece’s estate but at another time Mr. Carrington. If her ladyship asks I’ve gone to the capital’s spaceport she can reach me through my private holo.”
In a manner of seconds, the Lord Admiral hurried from Stormvale. Refusing a pilot or even a maid to accompany her. Up to the stairs, down the hall and into the bedroom she shared with her wife. Fiolette dressed out into civilian clothes, loose-fitting denim trousers with a white shirt and a leather jacket tossed over. She canvased the room looking for her key box. There she dug through until she found the set to one of her speeders. A Corellian built hoverbike posing as a speeder. Another set of flurried movements had Fiolette back down the hall, down the stairs and out the front door.
The servants couldn’t help but be puzzled by such a change in the Lord Admiral’s day to day pacing. Mr. Carrington would not speak on what had occurred in the woman’s study. Just that she had urgent business in the capital to take care of. The sound of her hoverbike roaring to life just outside the estate’s parcade drew more questions than answers.
For Fiolette there was a reason for her urgency. Ferrathias. His name ran through her mind, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. She secured her helmet and set off from Stormvale rising up over the treetops the hoverbike roared forward toward Ravelin’s massive skyline. In what seemed to be a lifetime ago, Fiolette’s sixteen-year-old son announced that he was to be a Jedi. Worse, he denounced the family’s pro-Imperial stance and wished to join the Republic. At that moment Fiolette cast him aside, disowned him with nearly the same venom that her own family had cast her out.
Decades later, here was a young woman claiming to be his daughter. Her granddaughter of all things, Fiolette felt her teeth gnash against one another. A mix of emotions brewed within as the hoverbike race along with the clouds and merged into traffic headed for the capital. Back at home word would inevitably reach Lady Raaf - her wife having departed in such haste for the capital and to a spaceport no less. The letter that came from the late Duchess's attorney perhaps the two were linked, the estate was buzzing and as much as Mr. Carrington tried to quiet it down, this sort of gossip refused to simply lay.
