[hr][center][h3][b][color=orchid]Solange - The Faded Lantern Tavern & Inn[/color][/b][/h3]
[sup][sup][sup][color=pink][i]Lies aren't needed when others make the excuse for you.[/i][/color][/sup][/sup][/sup][/center][hr]

[b][color=orchid]“We must run in different circles, honey.  All I ever heard about the Sheriff was that he was a man of strange taste and disappointing stamina,”[/color][/b] said Solange with a half-smile that faded quickly as Nora’s icy stare flashed like a dagger from Skarsat over to her. The redhead stood up straight and cupped her hands together to stand like a proper, professional young lady with no hint of irony in her disposition. She nodded in acknowledgment to Nora’s departing statement, Solange’s tongue twisting in her mouth as she swallowed the desire to return the Zherpanian saying with a similar one she’d heard uttered by the followers of Voi—something about making water once the passions cooled. Neither, she realized, would be advice that would need to be followed at this moment.

[b][color=orchid]“Any disputes? Darling, can you believe Miss Sunshine thought we were having a...darling?”[/color][/b] Solange craned her neck to search for Skarsat, but her plaything had already slipped away. She exchanged a glance with Sheri and smiled sweetly. [b][color=orchid]“Let’s head to the kitchen. After you.”[/color][/b]

Solange had the misfortune of dealing with Sheri before, who’d taken it upon herself to explain the lives of every member of the staff to Solange like some kind of proud, doting mother. It amazed Solange how Sheri was able to know so much about the others, considering she never took a single moment to let someone else get a word in. However, seemingly the stress of dealing with the Sheriff was enough to silence the suffocating gossip who, much to Solange’s relief, fretted with her frock more than anything. Sheri held the swinging door to the kitchen open for Solange, who stepped through after telling the woman to wait outside.

The kitchen of the Faded Lantern was normally well organized but currently in complete disarray due to the prep done to provide the would-be treasure hunters with a bountiful feast that now would go unenjoyed by half of their party. Solange eyed a tower of dirty dishes, her tongue pressing into her bruised cheek as she fought the urge to send them cascading to the ground, porcelain shattering everywhere and ruining the day of some young kitchenhand who’d be forced to scrub it all up. Perhaps if the floors weren’t already dirty the temptation would be too much for her. 

She peeled herself away and found what she’d come looking for: an iron kettle filled with black, muddy coffee. Its bitter flavor would do well to mask the taste of the leaves of iris that Solange had squirreled away for a day when her sister had deeply annoyed her. She pulled the leaves out of her tiny herb pouch, casting a glance over her shoulder to make sure that none of that staff was poking their head around. Grabbing a bowl and a wooden spoon from the pile of dirty dishes, Solange pulverized the leaves until they made a fine paste, loosened it upon with a bit of water, and mixed it in with the coffee. It might add a bit of grit to the brew, but it’d be difficult to differentiate between it and loose coffee grounds.

The poison wasn’t lethal—killing her sister was out of the question, and killing the Sheriff would be bad for the local businesses—but it would ruin the better part of the morning by keeping him contained to the loo. Most likely the Sheriff would reason that the cooking was bad or that he had too much to drink the night before and not even consider that someone would dose him. She stashed her makeshift mortar and pestle in with the rest of the dishes and grabbed the wooden handle of the kettle. Popping out of the kitchen, she nodded to Sheri and followed the woman’s gaze up to the balcony. Her nose wrinkled as she caught sight of Sheriff Gerranti gesturing with a piece of bacon to one of the guards seated with him. 

Solange adjusted her dress and sashayed her way up to the pig trough. She heard a bark of laughter and paused outside of the sliding door, taking a moment to come up with a story. Nerves steeled and a phony smile painted on her face, Solange pulled on the handle and found three men with crumbs on their lips staring at her. She stepped gracefully through the threshold with her chin high, casting a quick glance at the two nobodies before focusing her gaze upon the Sheriff. Normally she’d move to a spot where she could have her eyes on the door, but she needed to be able to see the main hall. 

[b][color=orchid]“Gentleman, I am so pleased our staff saw fit to serve you breakfast after my partner so quickly turned you away the other night. It is always so wonderful to see them take ownership, especially when it comes to taking care of a respectable man of the law. My name is Solange Belgard, Lord Vargas’s new business partner. Sheri took it upon herself to inform me of everything. I’m afraid we’d be here well past supper if we were to wait for Lord Vargas, but I may answer what questions you have in his stead. However, before that…”[/color][/b] She placed her hand on the back of an empty chair and leaned forward, squeezing her chest up as she raised the tainted kettle, her blue eyes narrowing. [b][color=orchid]“...who needs more coffee?”[/color][/b]