[center][color=red][b]Lady Margoux, Chateau Rubis, Private Garden[/b][/color][/center]
[center][img]http://www.motherearthnews.com/-/media/Images/MEN/Editorial/Articles/Magazine-Articles/2011/06-01/Get-the-Most-From-Vegetable-Garden-Mulches/mulched-garden.jpg[/img][/center]

Lady Margaux knelt beside a row of thriving green onions, the vegetable growing better than she had expected. It was Sunday, her day of days, so to speak. Easy, lazy, with a warm sun and a cool breeze to make it all the better. She smiled as she tended to her modest garden. While it was nothing compared to the lavish flower gardens of the other nobles, Margaux had a feeling she was among the few that actually knew how to tend to the garden itself, and not order some servant to take care of it for her. She leaned in closed uprooting some weeds that were trying to slither into her garden. 'Bothersome plants... no matter how many times I purge your from this soil, you always come back...' she thought to herself as she brushed the upthrust of dirt back into a smooth pattern. She took a deep breath of the fresh air about her, enjoy the aroma of ripening vegetables, ranging from onions to tomatoes. At the end of the day, Margaux could safely say, this was the one thing she had full control over, and didn't have to worry about the contrived and utterly ridiculous court politics. She smiled again, standing up to move towards her tomatoes.

"You will be ready to eat soon, my little friends. Just a few more days..." Margaux quietly said aloud to herself. She knelt beside the tomato vines, plucking away dead leaves and spoiled produce, when she felt a presence behind her. She let out a soft sigh, before rising up to greet her steward, Gérard de Villefort. The man was soft spoken and seemed to glide across the ground rather than walk, since he scarcely made a sound. Perhaps it was just tricks played within the mind, but Margaux placed those thoughts to the back burner, and brushed the dirt from her pants. "Villefort, what do I owe this privilege of your presence? Surely it could wait until tomorrow? Or, has there been another attempted escape from the mines?" Margaux smiled at her steward, taking her gardening gloves off and setting them aside.

Gérard de Villefort smiled softly, the barest hints of his lips curling upwards. He bowed his head forward, and in a soft, yet authoritative tone, replied to his mistress. "My Lady, I know that today is your day off from the tiresome task of running this island, but, this docket of business cannot wait. And do not worry, the prisoners are toiling away as they should, repentance for their inability to either serve the Great-Father admirably, or because the rest of the Empire has no need for such financially draining bodies." He stepped back, offering for Lady Margaux to take the lead towards a gazebo in the center of the garden. "It is best that we discuss this matter of state out of the warming embrace of the sun, besides, Sir Armand Dorleac is waiting as well. It seems this news has him lamenting over his duties of protecting you once more... " The man paused, before smiling, and looking towards the garden. "Quite the beautiful crop this year, my lady... now come, let us see to this business, and perhaps you will have time left to enjoy your day."


[center][b]A while later, Lady Margaux, Sir Armand Dorleac, and Mr. Gérard de Villefort[/b][/center]
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Lady Margaux was first to speak after the long silence from learning the news. "The Great-Father has summoned me, one can not refuse such a summons, regardless of how you feel about all the lickspittles that call themselve's pure-blooded. It matters not to me what you would prefer me to do, Sir Armand, your job is as my Captain of the Crimson Reavers. Which I need not remind you, means you serve me, and be extension, serve the Great-Father. Piss on all the fetid fools who believe blood and their proximity to the Great-Father makes them better or more suited to be in charge. Those bootlickers care more about their pedigree than what truly matters, and that is your usefulness to the Great-Father coupled with your loyalty. Sir Armond, don't tell me you have forgotten of the traitorous ilk of the Great-Father, that vile creature who was among the closest of the blood-kin to the Great-Father? So keep that in mind, before you decide to spout off such borderline heretical and treasonous talk. We will answer the Great-Father's summons, with all due haste." Lady Margaux leaned back against a pillar, angrily eyeing her chief military leader. Damned be the fact this man was a skilled fighter, he just held too much open disdain towards the mainland politics, or rather, the Blood Children of the Great-Father who saw themselves as betters to his Lady and mistress. 

It was Lady Margaux's steward Gérard de Villefort who interceded, speaking plainly and politely. "Friends, come now, now is not the time to be letting such emotions take control of us. Sir Armond, you will do just splendid in the capital. Lady Margaux has nothing to fear with you and your hand-picked attache at her side. Besides, it is only momentary that you shall be in Maweth, only till the return of the Great-Father. Let not your disdain for the mainland nobility bring dishonor unto yourself, our mistress, or the Great-Father. This Lady Sibari, the Great-Father's stewardess, is a... well, she can be worked with without too much fear of being stabbed in the back. Beside, the Great-Father would not look kindly upon those that disobey his orders, regardless of their peerage and pedigree." 

Gérard de Villefort smiled, and beckoned his mistress in closer. "Lady Margaux, all will be fine. Just do as the Great-Father would do. Do not overstep your powers delegated unto you, and when in doubt, ask the stewardess, she will have been ordered to help you, regardless of her personal feelings in the matter. I will ensure that nothing goes awry while you are gone, my lady. And I will even send a fresh shipment of produce and blood wine so that you may enjoy your trip from home to the capital. The Crimson Reavers will keep you safe, and when in doubt, do not trust that which is told to you." He sighed, bowing his head, before motioning towards the pathway. "I must be off, my lady. I will keep you informed of the new shipment of prisoners, and their progress in the mines. I have to oversee their arrival, and ensure that these chattel know their place, and should things run amok, you can raise their dead corpses when you return. Sir Armond, protect our mistress, you are fully capable of that, don't let your doubts and reservations run amok." The Steward finished, bowing before the two, before setting off to his other duties.

Lady Margaux looked to Sir Armond, and let out a low sigh. "What could possibly go wrong? You see to the guard retinue, and I shall see to chartering passage for us. We leave in the morning, which should allow us to arrive in Maweth in four days time. Best to not keep the Great-Father waiting. He summoned me, and that is all the reason we need. Our loyalty to the Great-Father must be unyielding, no matter what outside forces we may face. Besides, it will be fun to rub those pampered prick's noses in the fact I was chosen over them to help oversee Sheol while the Great-Father is way." Lady Margaux finished with a wicked smile. Let the sycophants play their games and show their true colors to the Great-Father, Margaux bemused to herself, for she knew with the deepest of convictions, that there are few more loyal to the Great-Father than her.