Bad Reputation

[Diego]

Diego bowed deeply "For House Morua. Success or Death, Condeza, as always."

Morua's remover of obstacles took his leave, glad to be leaving the fusty halls of Morveres and once more headed where he could put his skills to more practical use. Skills were like a blade: if not maintained properly, such things were liable to rust.

The final arrangements were made and Diego left the following morning in a courier's garb, carrying a mundane missive to a warehouse near the border of Qadis. There, as per instruction, the warehouse handed over their most recent reports for the factors in Qadis. Bearing the appropriate paperwork, Diego passed through most of the Duchy of Quijas without mishap, and thus commenced his search for Querida Solana Beraza de Morua.

[Costanca Ana]

"I don't like him. Sister, do you? If so, you should properly advise him on at least updating his wardrobe. It's so. . .offensive." In more ways than one. "I don't see how you can stand him, anyways. It's like being given someone's unfinished meal. Quite inappropriate, don't you think?"

Sarita's eyes were on the door, her bearing retreating to a cooler emotion than Costanca was strictly comfortable with. She remained silent.

"Are you planning on keeping me hostage from our dearest Uncle Aluar longer than you'd originally planned? I know you cannot abide to be without me, sister, but you must learn to live without me. I'll be a newlywed soon, or so I've heard."

"Costanca," Sarita said as Costanca was about to draw another breath to continue.

Costanca exhaled, instead. The sense of dread deepened.

"Do you trust your servants?"

"I have fewer than you." Costanca blinked, and reached for her teacup with fingers that remained steady despite the churning in her gut. She took a sip.

"I have always thought they suited you." Sarita plucked a book up from the table. Considering how thorough her staff was in keeping things tidy, there could be no doubt it had been there for a reason. "I have a. . .favor to ask from you."

The Morua family was a web. Those who were born into it had the sole choice of being its spiders, for the only other option was becoming the nourishment of its spiders. Strange thought, that, for there had been more than one occasion where she'd witnessed cannabalism in her family members' constant attempts to rise higher. Costanca couldn't help but wonder where she fell. She knew the majority of her cousins viewed her as some harmless, decorative butterfly kept alive by the more dangerous Sarita, but surely she could be more than that.

Costanca remained silent, eyes on the book Sarita so casually held.

"I need you to take a message to the Dona Ildaria de Morua de Morua."

Ildaria? Their sister, heir to Morua behind Luysa's sole child. She'd married well, and among them she laid claim to the most children. She was most involved with the Morua Duchy's trade legislation, and in Costanca's opinion knew as much as Sarita when it came to economic movements in Morua. Maybe not as much, but she certainly was kept well informed.

Costanca sighed, making sure it was easily heard. "She's in Morua visiting Luysa, isn't she? You know I didn't pack for city fashions."

"You'll be leaving early. Tomorrow."

That drew Costanca up short. "Suddenly so eager to be rid of me? Here I'd assumed you were thinking of taking up torturing me for a living."

Sarita's glare was expected, and in some small way reassuring. "It's past time you were properly integrated into society. Do not fail me in this."

They all had to do unpleasant things to stay ahead and alive. Diego was the perfect example of that, wasn't he? Caught between two masters -- three, if you counted that meddling old man -- he managed to prove his worth over and over. Even if he was odious.

"Yes, sister."

They all did what they had to. Whatever it took.