The Leroux Townhouse, Uptown, Vienda
His tone, at least, was excellent. Niccolette swallowed her pleased smile. Palis glanced over at her, his expression as flat as his voice. Niccolette let herself smile then, and glanced back at Aurelien, raising her eyebrows lightly.
“Of course,” Niccolette shrugged. “If you do not know, then I suppose it does not interest you,” she glanced back at Palis, and smirked again, very faintly. “Good evening, Incumbent,” Niccolette smiled at Donaldson. “Mr. Donaldson,” she bowed, delicately at the waist, and took an easy step back, turning away.
Niccolette turned away, then, although she took her time. She knew; Aurelien knew; likely even Palis and Donaldson knew. There was, nevertheless, a moment a friction in the air, tension, stretched taut between the four of them. Niccolette’s ramscott was crisp and indectal, of course, but she felt the faintest strain in those around her, Aurelien’s especially, and she knew him by it.
“Wait,” Aurelien cleared his throat. “In fact, there was – I had some – you should not be wandering practically unescorted,” he said, glancing at Palis with a pursing of his lips. “Let me accompany you to find Mr. Ibutatu.”
Niccolette glanced back over her shoulder. Her smile was broad, and just a little wicked, and it let him get away with nothing. “How thoughtful of you,” she said, easily.
“Evening, Donnie,” Aurelien murmured; they clasped hands, and exchanged a few more words.
Niccolette did not wait, but slid back through the crowded, smoke-filled room, Palis trailing behind her. Aurelien caught them at the door, his hand beating hers to the handle. He looked at her, flat-eyed, and shot an angry glance at Palis, then opened it with the faintest possible bow.
Niccolette smiled, and stepped through.
“In here,” Aurelien said, coldly. He choose a nearby door and pushed it open; the room beyond was nearly empty, just two men talking on a small cluster of nearby couches. They were dead to the world, but for one another, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. Niccolette smiled, faintly, and looked away as they leaned in closer. Aurelien’s face was sour, but he did not shoo them out, instead leading Niccolette and Palis towards the far side.
“Well?” Aurelien said, sharply.
Niccolette raised her eyebrows. “I do not think we shall find Uzoji here.” She said, smiling.
“Don’t play the fool,” Aurelien said, low. “It doesn’t suit you. If you or this – this – young man has something to say, then say it.”
Niccolette shrugged. “Very well,” she said, coolly. “Francoise is feeling quite ill. She has taken your carriage and gone home.”
Aurelien was silent, looking at her; a muscle jumped in his jaw. “And?” He said, after a moment.
“And?” Niccolette asked lightly, raising her eyebrows again. “And what?”
“What,” Aurelien gritted his teeth; he spluttered, faintly, glancing from Palis to Niccolette and back again. “What else – good fucking lady, Niccolette! Just tell me.”
“For now, that is it,” Niccolette shrugged lightly. A sharp snap of furious red went through Aurelien’s field. Niccolette grinned, and pulsed hers, swamping him with bright, sharp living energy; she flexed her field out to its fullest, out from the polite dampening she had held much of the night, and it was brilliant and sharp in the air.
“You have a wonderful wife,” Niccolette said, coldly, bearing down on him still with a deep caprise. The redshift had faded; something yellow and fearful flickered through Aurelien’s field, before he brought it under control. “Do not think to take her for granted. Next time I may yet have more to say.” Her eyes flickered over him. “You are still the only one she wants, Aurelien,” she said, shrugging, and released the flex. “Do not be such a fool.”