(1310-12-22) Charlot Matters
Summary: Cyriel Charlot pens a letter.
RL Date: 22/01/2019
Related: This

Chavagne Suite — Kusheth Ducal Estate — City of Elua

Tempers would cool, on the following day, usually. That is, if tempers had been running hot. How curious, that in Cyriel's case, very much the opposite was the case. His demeanor had lost any faint traces of warmth after certain interactions at the Midwinter Ball, and the chill persisted, even as the hawk-masked Vicomte had excused himself from the festivities much later.

The maid that came to bring a modest breakfast of bread and watered wine on the following morning would note several crumpled up pieces of parchment littering the floor about the table.

Cyriel was already awake and dressed in a white shirt and dark red breeches that were tucked into dark leather boots, sitting at the table as he penned his next and probably final attempt.

At least he thought so as he put his signature at the bottom, and then leaned back in his seat to read the letter again, his pale blue eyes brightening in an otherwise unmoving face.

To Cyrano Charlot, Vicomte de Châteaugiron

My lord,

it would behoove a peer in station that is also bound by our proud bloodline of Charlot to put concerns to paper and bring them to your attention, and yet I have refrained from doing so this far. It is not my design to use my doubts to criticise the manner in which you elect to lead Chateaugiron. On the contrary, you have earned my highest respect with your integrity and the fair yet firm stance you have maintained in dealing with the matters of your Vicomté.

Because of this, I feel obliged to inform you of my concerns, about a potential future decline in the repute and influence of our proud House of Charlot. I would be interested to know, whether you are aware of how your heir voiced his disinterest and disdain for anything pertaining to politics. In public, for everyone to hear. At the Midwinter Ball. I would also be interested to know, how you could approve and pursue a match for your son, with a lady of neither principles nor bearing, a woman known as 'trouble' among her kin that has been seen getting drunk with sailors at a harbor tavern, not even bothering about guards and about how this conduct would reflect on her House of Trevalion.

Are you certain, that Thibault will be able to follow in your footsteps and maintain what you have achieved? That he will not drag the Châteaugiron line down, relishing in all things delightful and diverting to entertain his wife rather than see to matters of a Vicomté that depends on his skill to prosper and gain in power and standing?

What would the consequences be, eventually? Our Comte de Charlot, dragging Melville from his exile at the Salon de Coquelicot in Marsilikos to fill a spot that needs to be vacated? Or… the Comte granting Châteaugiron to the formerly so disgraced branch of our cousin Giscard?

Neither you nor I would like to see that happen. Heed my words and take measures, or ignore them. But do not claim afterwards that I did not warn you.

Cyriel Charlot,
Vicomte de Chavagne.

"Fine…" It was a sigh, not really expressing gratification. And yet, he did not hesitate to fold the letter and seal it with his sigil ring on the slowly cooling wax. His gaze turned towards the other etter then that the maid had brought along with the breakfast, and Cyriel's brows furrowed as he began to read its contents. "Now, that is interesting…" A woman's handwriting, and a faint scent of wild flowers clung to the parchment. Maybe this caused the smile on his hawkish features to shift into a faint grin.

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