“I do.”
The words come quietly.
Vesta reaches into her bag and withdraws a careful stack of letters, then waits to be led towards the circle.
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Vesta does not return the smile. Instead, she steps forward and places a small pouch of gold coins onto the counter.
“I need to send several missives, please.” She says flatly.
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A Ramtovi woman draped in white moves through the streets with measured, silent steps. A thin white veil is wrapped across her face and hair, soft fabric stirring faintly with each breath she takes. Beside her walks a man dressed in the same pale colors, the pair standing out starkly against the city around them.
Together, they make their way towards the Mage’s Guild, and enter.
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Vesta accepts the journal back, her expression tightening as she scans the page.
“Given what this ritual’s already done…” she murmurs, frowning, “I think it’s best left as dead knowledge.”
She closes the book partway and turns her attention back to Marquanthis.
“You said it’s one time use...” A slight pause. “Would you know of any way to reverse something like this? To unravel a binding designed to be permanent?”
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Vesta pulls her worn journal from her bag, flipping through the pages until she finds what she’s looking for. She turns it outwards and offers it to Marquanthis.
“These are the runes that were on the bones.” Her finger hovers over one symbol. “I know that one says ‘anchor.’ We’ve seen it repeated on several pillars.”
She withdraws her hand and takes a polite step back, giving him space.
“There are a few pages of additional notes as well. Things we’ve uncovered, sketches, visions.” She motions softly. “You’re welcome to look through any of it.”
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Vesta dips into a practiced curtsy beside Jade, then lifts her hand in a small wave, her smile polite but measured.
“Hello, Marquanthis,” she greets him. “Hope you’re doing well.”
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Vesta strolls up to the guild with a lightness in her step than she’s had in months. She dips into a graceful curtsy, her smile warm as it lands on Jade, only to falter as her gaze shifts.
Her nose wrinkles, expression twisting with open distaste.
“Baroness, was it truly necessary to bring that… thing?”
She gestures loosely towards the golem.
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Nill takes one last glance at the faerie, then hops back onto her barstool. The die is already in her hand as she resumes her quiet game, feet kicking idly.
Now and then, she glances towards Storm before returning to the steady roll.
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Vesta turns to look at Zukar, reaching for his hand. Her fingers curl around his, giving them a small squeeze. She looks back to Jade, offering a nod.
“Of course. We’re rather stuck here at the tavern while the fighting outside the city continues, so we don’t have any real plans.” She moves to stand. “A change of scenery might be… refreshing.”
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Vesta lets out a soft chuckle, then shakes her head.
“I really wouldn’t recommend a drink right now.” She waves a hand dismissively. “It’s mostly water at this point.”
Her lips curve into a smile again.
“But- hopefully not for much longer.”
She turns to exit the guild, her pace unhurried but purposeful as they make their way towards the tavern.
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Vesta exhales sharply, lifting a hand to her temples.
“Stars, why can’t anything be simple…” She mutters under her breath.
With a sigh, she straightens, drawing herself back into composure, arms crossing neatly over her chest.
“I suppose the tavern would suffice,” she says. “There aren’t many people hanging around because of the famine.”
She tilts her head and gives a small, dismissive shrug.
“Zukar and I are staying there. We could speak privately enough, I think.”
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Vesta drops into a practiced curtsy, graceful and precise. When she rises, she offers him a faint smile.
“Yes,” she says, smoothing her skirts. “I was hoping to get your opinion on something. Perhaps even your assistance.”
Her gaze drifts about the room, noting the other members present.
“It is quite a delicate matter, however.” She lowers her voice. “I would prefer not to make a spectacle of it.”
She pauses briefly, then asks, “Would it be possible to use one of the warded rooms?”
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Vesta moves to sit at the edge of the bed. The mattress dips beneath her, hands smoothing absently over her skirts as she settles.
“No, I don’t, unfortunately.” She shakes her head. “I sent a missive.”
Her fingers lace together in her lap, thumbs brushing restlessly against one another. She glances down at them for a moment, then exhales softly.
“I… didn’t feel it was appropriate for me to stay.” A faint, self-conscious smile tugs at her lips. “I made quite the scene last time.”
Her gaze lifts, drifting around the room nervously.
“Remember Baroness,” she says quietly. “There are no wards here.”
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When Jade approaches the room, the low murmur of two voices chatting in the Ramtovi tongue can be heard behind the door. The moment she knocks, the conversation cuts off. There’s a brief shuffle of footsteps before the door opens.
Vesta stands there, dressed down from her usual finery. Her hair is swept up into a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. For a second, she looks caught off guard.
“Who-?”
Recognition hits. Surprise and unease flash openly across her features, but she smooths it over almost immediately. She steps aside, her lips curving into a polite smile.
“Hello, Baroness,” she says, her voice warm but measured. “I wasn’t expecting you to stop by.”
She opens the door wider in invitation, retreating a step into the room. Behind her, Zukar sits on the bed, and Vesta gestures lightly inward.
“Would you like to come in...?”
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One afternoon, Vesta enters the Mage’s Guild alone. She approaches the front desk, offering a polite smile to whoever stands behind it.
“Good afternoon,” she says. “I’m looking for Lord Balasar Levine.”
There’s a brief pause as she folds her hands neatly in front of her.
“I understand he recently joined the guild.” She continues, tilting her head slightly. “I thought it best to check here before searching elsewhere for his whereabouts.”
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