Prelude (Underworld Lucian Fanfiction)

45 - Chapter XLV: A Penny for a Thought

Three weeks later.

January 14, 1900. The Study.

The new year had come and gone. It was a quarter to nine in the morning, and Lucian was standing in the shade by the east window of his study, his back to the room and an unlit pipe stuck between his teeth. He'd given up smoking over a decade ago, but the steady decline of his laudanum stash was leading him to look to other means for keeping his mental state in check. The principle scourge of an addict being that, more often than not, the addiction had very little to do with the actual substance.

"Good news or bad?" His attention was focused on one of two horses making its way across a pasture. Sabine. Her morning riding lesson, something he had promised to attend at least once, and as yet had not found the time. Probably for the best. Two weeks into the new year and his moods were, at best, erratic: roughly two days of good humour for every one spent snapping at anything that crossed his path.

"If pushed, I would say 'bad,' sir." Weylan, his secondary advisor—after Raze—on all things related to the outside world, was young, but entirely suited to his post. Anyone capable of distilling two hundred hours of minutes into four sentences was always worthy of his time. "The full contingent will be present at the Gathering, however, there is some debate as to the safety of the location. According to one report, there have been Blood sightings in the proposed opera district. Gustav has called for confidence in the state of Berlin, and in the interim, Lady Allegra has put forward a motion for Vienna as a more suitable location. Most are still waiting on your opinion before they proceed with the vote."

He spoke around the pipe. "Anything but Wagner."

"Wagner, sir?"

"Ja," he said, switching to German without a second thought. The horses were moving faster. She was riding side-saddle. Ridiculous, but necessary if they were to conform to the image the public required of Mr. Alexander Kerr's estate. "I have... issues... with Wagner."

"Shall I put that in writing, sir?"

"Why not." He stepped away from the window as the clouds moved. The sun was getting in his eyes. "Tell them—in writing—they've wasted a week by choosing not to vote, and that I am now of the opinion that they can hold it under the lead soprano's arse for all I care." He removed the pipe, taking a closer look at some of the teeth marks, before chucking it onto his desk. "I just don't want to be hearing Wagner as she sits down."

"Very good, sir." Weylan had switched to German accordingly and was now thumbing through the small black box, dedicated to all things local. "Colonel Arlington has submitted a request to widen the scope of his inquiry—he believes the tools used on the victim's eye may be located farther afield than first posited."

"And what's he basing this on?"

"It would seem a lack of options, sir." Though Weylan was not officially involved with the murder inquiry, it was his duty to be aware of any and all things related to the lycan-master's connections with the outside world. "Though the murders have stopped for the time being, the investigation appears to have come to a stand-still. All leads in the distillery district have gone cold, and they still require access to some of the more secretive of perfume houses. "

"Approved." He waved a hand. "Next."

Weylan moved onto the next page in his hand, speaking as he transferred Arlington's request to the approved section of the files. They would be signed later. "There has been some pressure from the investors to release Stafford, McIlroy, and Douglas. No official petitions as of yet, merely letters..."

"Letters can be ignored."

"Shall I inform you the moment they file a petition, sir?"

"Yes." He pointed at Weylan. "Wake me if you have to."