(1311-08-01) The Flatlander's Tale
Summary: Jacquet visits André, to hear his side of the story.
RL Date: Fri Aug 02, 2019
Related: Incident Plot, happens right after this scene.
andre jacquet 

Flatlands Suite — Guest Tower

Andre is back at his suite, his mood worsening by the minute as he waits for some busybody official to see him.

It does not take long, and that official arrives. It is a slightly gruff looking man, d'Angeline but with a battle-hardened air about him. There are some scars visible, on his face, on his neck, suggesting there are more of them hidden beneath his attire. That attire is the typical wear of a man of the City Watch, chainmail and tabard with a stylized image of the Dome of the Lady emblazoned upon the front. He has dark hair of medium length, always looking slightly plastered to his scalp, either from sweat or some oil used to keep it that way. He is a man in his early forties, and his dark eyes have a tendency to stare. As they do now as he is shown into the suite, the Flatlander inhabitates in the Guest Tower. "M'lord," he greets, offering a formal bow, his eyes never lowering as he studies André. "I'm Sergeant Jacquet of the City Watch. I have some questions, about the incident with the…" He clears his throat, "woman that calls herself Kalisha."

The Flatlandish suite is rather bare, having the air of not having been lived in for long, and the Flatlandish Prince is barely more than a youth, albeit a well-dressed youth with good breeding instilled in him from the start. As such he manages a smile and inclines his head in greeting to the man. "I have been told to expect you.", he says politely and gestures, "Will you take a seat? Some refreshments?", he suggests as if receiving a noble visitor.

Jacquet seems to be hardly used to courtesy. But when it is granted, he inclines his head to the first question, and then shakes his head at the second. "A seat will do, m'lord.", he clarifies with a faint ghost of a smile as he studies André and claims one of the chairs. "So. If you don't mind me getting right to the point. Mademoiselle Kalisha told me that you have hired her as some sort of guard. She sees you as some sort of friend. Are you her friend, my lord?", he rasps, eyes narrwoing as he watches the Flatlander lord with a mixture of curiosity and some sort of cunning. As if he wanted to lure a mouse out of its hole.

Andre takes the other seat and listens politely to the man, then inhales deeply, this question perhaps not what he had expected first. "Friendship is not extended lightly, as you will certainly agree.", he finally points out, "I came across her a while ago and it turned out that we were both shipwrecked - on different ships of course - during the same storm and washed ashore here. She had lost her memory though and could not remember who she was and where she came from. I took pity. The Duchesse had kindly extended her hospitality towards me -" He vaguely gestures at the room they are in, "And Flatlandish merchants in port helped me to communicate with home and gave me money. She had nothing and no one. So I arranged for her to sleep in the stables to have a roof over her head and to have some food to sustain her, while she made her recovery and would hopefully regain knowledge of who she was, so she could go home."

<FS3> Jacquet rolls Composure: Success. (1 3 6 4 5 7 6)

"Hmm." This is information elicits a furrowing of his brows. "She's sleeping in the stables, you say…?" But the tone remains light, and after a moment he shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. "I will need to check with the stablehands, and Monsieur Ivet, the master of the stables. Just…", and here he manages a faint smile, "to back up your story, m'lord. But I see. So… on that day, yesterday. What happened exactly? You were there, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was.", Andre confirms with a sigh that reveals he had rather been elsewhere. "I was on my way out. Kalisha was waiting for me at the palace gates, argueing with a guard who refused her entry. We were about to depart together when the Lady Desarae Mereliot chanced upon us. She is not … friendly disposed towards foreigners. Have you spoken to her?", he can't help wondering.

"Ah, the Lady Desarae de Mereliot." Jacquet repeats the name, with a momentary downward flick of his gaze, as if makring down a name. "I shall speak to her, thank you for giving me the name." A beat, as he lifts his eyes again to study the Flatlander lord. "You had an argument?", he wonders. "There, at the gates?"

"I did not. One developed between Lady Desarae and Kalisha." Andre clarifies politely. He speaks rather slowly as if making sure to first seek the right words in what is a foreign language to the Flatlandish prince, "The lady asked her to remove herself, which she did. She directed a few strong words at my own person then before taking her leave. I gestured for Kalisha to return to my side so we could finally be on our way, when the Vicomtesse de Guéret came along, leading a horse down the street, so I paused momentarily to extend my greetings to her and inquire about the health of her horse, which was limping."

Jacquet listens. He watches and considers André as the young man speaks. He doesn't interrupt. "So you were outside of the gates?", he inquires after André has fallen silent, dark eyes staring at the Flatlander. His tone is neutral. "What happened next?"

"Yes. Obviously. The Vicomtesse wasn't about to lead a horse into the palace, was she?", Andre replies, trying badly to hide a little smile at the thought. Clearly he doesn't know the vicomtesse well. "We exchanged a few words about her horse… and Kalisha returned to my side in the meantime. Lady Philomene took offense at her very appearance and addressed her in rather impolite terms. Eventually she drew her sword in what I presume was the intent to either scare or injure the foreign girl, or probably both."

Jacquet gives a low snort at the counter. "Why not? The stables, as you may or may not know, have exits to the courtyard and to the street outside. They can be accessed from either side, and it wouldn't be unusual for someone visiting the palace to choose the way through the courtyard…", he states. Perhaps it was that little smile playing on André's features that prompted him to point it out. Perhaps he is just trying to give some helpful information to the foreign lord. Either way, it is done politely. But André already continues his account of the events, and the sergeant repeats, as if to hear it confirmed again, "It was the Vicomtesse de Gueret, who drew her blade first?"

"It was.", Andre confirms firmly, "She heaped abuse on Kalisha, calling her things like rat and vermin on the mere assumption that she could be of Skaldic origin. Which might be true, but so far her origin is unclear as the girl is not in full possession of her memories. She does speak Skaldic, but also other strange languages unknown to me. And even if she -were- Skaldic, you'd think that someone of the stature of the Vicomtesse would be above attacking a young woman in the street like that. What was the point?", he muses with a shake of his head.

<FS3> Jacquet rolls Composure: Success. (2 3 3 1 6 6 8)

Jacquet's jaw sets, but otherwise, there is no indication of a reaction to André's words. "The question of Mademoiselle Kalisha's origin is only secondary," he rasps after a moment, but his voice sounds flat, making it sound like a blatant lie. "Did she draw her blade, *before* the lady, as you say, attacked her with her own?"

Andre closes his eyes to try and recall the scene as good as he can. "No, she did not. The Vicomtesse threatened to 'run her through' and Kalisha… she made some movement…" He pantomines moving a hand to a non-existing weapon on a belt and rests it there. "I had a sense she was ready to defend herself in case the Vicomtesse -would- attack her, but was trying to reason verbally with her. She asked me to go. I should have gone with her immediately.", he sighs deeply, "But before we could go, the Vicomtesse drew her sword. She seemed unwilling to let Kalisha go without a fight…"

Jacquet furrows his brows. "Lady Philomène is a d'Aiglemort by birth, as far as I know. They are martially inclined, through their blood. They can't help it." His lps pull into a faint smile. "But. She is elderly. She herself walks with a limp. She was at disadvantage, here. I very much doubt she would have attacked an unarmed woman, even if… it were Skaldi scum," and here he almost spits out but then remembers where he is, in time, to decide against it. His tone however gives it away. "I think…", and here he lifts his chin, "your Mademoiselle Kalisha drew her blade and wanted to teach a d'Angeline lady of standing a lesson. To make her bleed. In which she succeeded. I have yet to speak with Lady Philomène. I went to the infirmary earlier, but I was told she isn't in a state yet to be questioned. Is there anything else, you wish to add to your account of the events?"

Andre narrows her eyes at the man. "Are you not supposed to conduct a neutral and unbiased inquiry into the matter?", he asks, a tinge of sharpness in his voice, "What you doubt and think… should be irrevelant here. In my country, hard facts matter. And the reports of eye witnesses who were there. If you have already made up your mind as to what happened and my words do not matter anyway, I have nothing to add.", he says firmly.

"I am conducting an investigation," Jacquet counters with similar steely firmness. "I may have theories. Still, I have to go with the evidence I gather as I move along. Your report will be taken into account, I assure you, my lord. Believe me though, I have plenty experience with Skaldi. They can't be trusted."

"Believe what you will.", Andre says coolly, "I know what I have witnessed." He falls silent then to see if the man has any more questions or will see himself out.

Jacquet takes that cue and moves to stand from the chair, his mail armor clinking as he does. "I shall believe what the evidence tell me," he repeats with a faint chill in his tone. "And what I can gather, from the witnesses." He seems about to leave, already turning to depart, after offering a bow to the foreign man of station. But then he pauses, turning to regard André once more. "She *is* in your service, is she not? My lord?", he asks, as that particular question had remained unanswered, when he posed it before.

"I have no servants.", Andre replies to that question, "The Duchesse's staff provides me with necessities here in my suite and does my laundry and so on. In fact I spent a great deal of time outside the city recently to prepare for the Great Exhibition. I have a witness for -that- if you get a kick out of questioning people.", he can't resist asking, then shrugs. "I provided her with a roof of her head and some food, but that's all. If she fancies herself a servant… I was not aware of it."

Jacquet nods to the information, ignoring the jab that comes along with it, at least outwardly. "I see. Thank you for your assistance.", he rasps, as he offers a last nod to André and then takes his leave.

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