- Mon Jan 16, 2017 12:09 am
Well, this was a surprise wasn't it. The girl was a good little actress. The minute the young lady saw that she was alone the whole act of uncertainty dropped like a thin veil. Well, if this was truly a training opportunity it wouldn't take long at all. A week, maybe three at most and this Ms. Chase would have the press eating out of her hand and cowering before her at will. It would be a simple matter, not easy, but simple enough at the very least. She had no idea as of now what the girl needed her for. Ms. Chase had control of herself it seemed. She had decent breeding and demeanor so maybe it really was just a trick- this had to be some kind of ruse because this woman was clearly capable enough to deal with everything on her own.
Quirking her eyebrow as she walked behind this Ms. Chase Morgana kept her eyes peeled for danger, for alerts and saw remarkably little. Even when it was a slow day with everything under great control there were a great many people hurrying in and out of the receiving rooms and parlors of his floor when Trevor had been in charge. This Lord MacTail was either remarkably organized, hated people, reorganized the entire government, or didn't exist- no matter what his Press Secretary said. For the staff to be reduced to Ms. Chase and one or two other people she saw scurrying about it seemed strange at best and suspicious at first. Still, it was none of her business, not anymore.
Walking into the office and hearing the doors shut behind her Morgana peered around the office. It was very much unchanged from when she had left it. There were no pictures anymore which was a difference. It was much plainer, much more business like but still the same room, the same designs and colors. When she looked over to the desk she shook her head a little. There was no Trevor. Well, at least that was out of the picture. The abdication was true then. Maybe he finally realized how power was ruining everything around him- corroding his family, his promises, his chance at a normal life that he professed to desire so often and so long ago. Maybe he just realized the cards were falling before everyone else and had scattered like a rat from the sinking ship. In any case this was no longer his office, the papers on it were no longer signed and sealed by her, and she had, no matter what this woman had to say, no business here.
So her "Lord" needed help. Her "Lord" is why she had been called here, not by him but by the woman before her. Morgana tilted her head in slight interest. Forging the self styled Lord's signature, calling back a diplomat...There was little that would imbue a Press Secretary with that power. Even in her heights Morgana never would have done that without discussing it with Trevor first or at least his second. For that to be happening it must be a grand thing going on here. A great and terrible thing at the very least. Especially at the suggestion of wine. Morgana shook her head and took a deep breath. "In All my experience Ms. Chase, no matter how much you think you need it, wine never really helps as much as we think it does. Besides, I prefer my wine on happier occasions than an errant Lord."
Morgana peered down on the desk and noticed marks that a woman had been there; a little powder here, a slight smudge of color on a piece of paper and she raised her eyebrows. Ms. Chase practically alone on the floor, no one to greet her despite the urgency of the message, Ms. Chase sending for her...It was highly irregular. It led to one very clear conclusion. "So tell me Ms. Chase. How long have you been in charge of the operation and why did you really send me that letter? Despite the new Lord's apparent absence or neglect you seem to have things well in command."