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[indent][color=fff200]~[b][u]Bradles Worth, Lake Victorine[/u].[/b]
~[b][u]The Percullin Main Mansion[/u].[/b][/color][/indent]

Gianna was undoubtedly involved in this tangled web of shattered hearts and twisting daggers.

 And so what now then.

The old blind man was disheveled, distraught, and disgraced. Not only had he been aggressively manhandled by Wicked One, but he was also being blackmailed by Wicked One's Underhanded brethren, Gia. This most likely was the Matrons doing and thusly she had no right to interfere with the matriarch.

She could however ask questions and glean some knowledge here; she was an Assassin's guild member afterall.

The man had been released and was collapsed in the corner of his study, weeping softly and weakly. The handwritten note returned to its resting place. And like abyssal black water the assassin's cloak chased her movements as she strode over to the fallen man. By the lapels she held him now.

[color=a187be]"So then, orchard keeper..." [/color]The mask of the Wicked One brought closer to the blind man's face. The voice of nightmare that much closer and reverberating in his ears and heart, [color=a187be]"re-iterate to me what was asked of you. Re-iterate the '[i]agreement[/i]' and re-iterate [i]to whom[/i] you must confirm your allegiance."[/color]

She waited long enough for him to answer before releasing him. To the floor he fell as the loud banging upon the door, and, the even louder plaintiff and desperately worried voices commenced.

[color=a187be]"And what Mercie will you have then, wine-maker? For there is another from your orchard that goes missing. Your other 'daughter' named Ouna. Shall the same fate befall her? If there is anything else you withold and would now like to air out with all truths, then your chance is now."[/color]

At the open window she now stood and reached into her cloak. [color=a187be]"If not I leave you and your Fate. Know who is responsible when you receive this Enna-leighs hand and this Ounas heart."[/color]

From the depths of shadow in her cloak she reached. An arrow she readied and slipped into her bow, long rope readied to be unraveled for her escape.

A few more heartbeats passed.

If he spoke not she would fire her arrow and make her escape. If he did speak more she would listen for she had another means of escape; she was the Wicked One afterall.