Business As Usual

The door banged opened as Lord Horace Whitevale forced his way past the portal, scattering the servants who had been in the entryway with a flailing, golden-handled cane. "Step aside at once! I'll see her here and now!"

The aging lord was on a rampage, not even bothering to take off his cloak as he stormed past the flustered servants. Ahead of him, an equally old and well dressed man attempted to step into his path, his arms spread wide and an almost apologetic look on his face as he opened his mouth to speak. Lord Whitevale would have none of it however, brushing by the Steward of House Aldridge as if he were not even there.

"My Lord, she's taking her morning tea and hasn't scheduled any appointments for the da-" the Steward began, his voice carefully measured so as not to offend. He didn't get to finish though as Lord Whitevale stormed down the corridor ahead at full speed, replying over his shoulder.

"She'll see me immediately dammit! I'll not be made to look a fool!" Whitevale yelled.

"Indeed not..." the Steward said in a low voice before hurrying after the furious lord. He sighed once, knowing it was going to be one of 'those' kind of days.

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The door to the small dining parlor burst open, startling the occupant of the room as Lord Whitevale entered in a fury. Behind him, House Aldridge servants bustled about, attempting to look busy so as to avoid any part of what was unfolding in the private chambers of House Aldridge's heir.

Lord Whitevale paused after taking ten steps into the room, his poor eyesight quickly taking in the lushly appointed private dining area with its elegant hardwood table, twin chairs, and set of delicious looking cookies piled on a silver platter in the center almost as a decoration.

Beyond the lush carpeted floor and hanging paintings of lords and ladies of bygone years, sunlight streamed into the room from a large sun window set into the far wall. There, sitting comfortably across the natural bench that the window provided, sat Lady Brithany Aldridge, looking rather startled with a book laying open in her lap. Lord Whitevale could tell just from a glance at the pages that it was some arcane nonsense as the words seemed to crawl across the paper if he looked too closely, giving him an immediate headache.

"How dare you!" he began diplomatically. "And here I thought that our agreement would hold for at least a few more months!"

The red-headed woman sitting near the window blinked once, her green eyes wide as she replied, "My Lord Whitevale, what an...unexpected surprise. Please, do calm yourself and take a breath before explaining to me exactly what causes you such distress."

The words, while spoken politely, hinted at the woman's displeasure at Lord Whitevale's sudden arrival. This pleased him immensely given his mood, and he practically growled at the woman as he strode further into the room. "Do not pretend ignorance with me, Lady Aldridge. Our families have been conducting business together since before you were a glint in your father's eye. You have taken funds from our mutual trust and invested them in a weapon-producing smithy without my permission or knowledge!"

Brithany nodded, carefully marking her place in the tome she'd been reading before closing it and setting it aside on the bench. She shifted, rising and adjusting her skirts so that the elegant green dress fell smoothly around her legs, complimenting her fiery red hair. "My Lord, let me first say that I appreciate your concerns, but I must tell you that they are unfounded. The smithy which we now own has secured contracts with Stormwind's military for the next three years for weapons and repair services. Not only will this investment grow the trust we share, but we will be serving Stormwind's armed forces in the process; something that is dear to my heart and interests."

Lord Whitevale slammed his hands down on the table, rattling the platter of cookies as he glared daggers at the woman, "Investing in military arms after the Horde has been defeated at Orgrimmar! What need have we of arms when their Warchief has been deposed you foolish little tart!"

Brithany straightened, her own face now a mask of tightly controlled rage. Ignoring his insult, she spoke calmly, her tone firm, "For how long, Lord? For how long will the beasts remain at bay? Until the next orc decides that the Horde should be run as he sees fit? Until the Forsaken decide that they need fresh corpses to expand their empire? Or perhaps when the blood elves decide that we of Stormwind should not be practicing the magic that they so jealously guard? For how long will peace hold until we once again wallow in sorrow after too late realizing they are still a threat to us all?"

"That is the king's responsibility to worry after!" Lord Whitevale shouted, furious. "He has seen fit to end the fighting in our enemy's capital. Who are you to decide that war will go on?! Who are you to invest my coin in an industry that will see only decline over the next few years?! You will ruin both our Houses!"

This time when Brithany responded, her voice had a hint of fire in it and there was a look in her eyes that gave Lord Whitevale pause, "I am the Lady Brithany Aldridge, heir of House Aldridge and majority holder of the funds in that trust, my Lord. You would do well to remember that with my father's untimely demise, it is I and I alone who will decide how those investments are made. If you wish to see your funds removed from the trust, you will pay the fees to me that you are contractually required to pay, plus interest for early termination of our agreement, my Lord. I would think very carefully about what you wish to say next."

For a moment, silence reigned in the room as Lord Whitevale studied the young woman. Easily thirty or more years her superior, there was something in her that hinted that she was more than the small slip of a woman she appeared to be. He could see a passion within her, likely the same passion that had first attracted his only son to court her and then later caused him to withdraw from the Lady's affections. Even so, the young upstart had to be put in her place.

"And you would do well to take care how you speak to me, my Lady. House Whitevale is not to be trifled with, and if our funds are lost there will be a reckoning between us," Lord Whitevale said ominously. "You are not in such a strong position that you are unassailable, Lady Aldridge."

Brithany looked at the man standing across from her, her face now clearly showing her coming ire like a storm in the distance, "Then assail me, Lord Whitevale. I seriously doubt you will enjoy the consequences or brag about such to your peers."

Being threatened by what was essentially a girl who had just passed her legal name-day made Lord Whitevale quiver with rage. His hand naturally slipped towards the top of his cane where he secretly kept a dueling sword concealed, "You dare to-"

Brithany had seen the movement of his hand and in a moment she stepped forward, arcane energies blazing to life in the air around her. One of her hands lashed out and an ornate vase to Lord Whitevale's right exploded, sending fragments of broken glass across the carpeted floor, "Our audience is at an end, Lord Whitevale. I will take your words into consideration when next I consider our mutual business. Remove yourself from my estate. Now."

Lord Whitevale had paled at the demonstration of Brithany's power, coming to realize just how close his temper had brought him to engaging in what would likely be a deadly duel with the young woman. The fact that he had even been considering assaulting a Lady combined with the fear he felt in his gut made him flush with embarrassment. He quickly turned, releasing his grip on the top of his cane as he hurried from the room with as much dignity as he could possibly save. Behind him a gaggle of servants stood in the corridor beyond, all of them suddenly extremely busy cleaning things in the hallway that didn't look all that dirty. None of them with even a hint of a smirk on their faces as the furious lord stormed past and headed for the estate's main entryway.

Once the huffing old man had left, the Steward entered the room, bowing before Brithany, "I apologize, my Lady. He pushed his way in here in a most uncouth manner. I will have guards added to the foyer to prevent such disturbances in the future."

Brithany smiled and waved a hand at her servant, shaking her head, "Do not apologize, Walter. It's not your fault that his is a blustering old fool who cannot see the future that is plainly spelled out before us."

She turned, looking out the window for a moment and speaking over his shoulder, "He is wrong about the Horde. They will come for us again and again until they are destroyed. Until every last orc, blood elf, and whatever else is disarmed. His bluster will only last as long as it takes for the first profits to reach his coffers, and then suddenly he will be smitten with me I am sure."

The Steward bowed, "And with good reason, my Lady. Will you be needing anything else?"

Brithany turned and smiled at her servant. Walter had served her family since she was a baby, working first for her parents and now for her. Loyalty such as his was impossible to purchase and worth more than its weight in gold. Her voice was soft when she spoke with him, "No thank you, Walter. I think I will return to my studies; they may be difficult at times but at least the pages do not typically tend to shout at me."

"As you wish, Lady Aldridge," the Steward said before bowing once again and leaving, closing the door behind him.

Alone in the room, Brithany stared at the shattered vase, the broken pieces a pointed reminder of the shattered life that the Horde had left her. She waved her hand, her magic curling around the glass and picking it up, setting each piece back in place on the table where the vase had sat, sealing them back together. Like the vase, she would pick up the shattered pieces of her life and make things whole once more. Even if no one else believed in her causes, she would see them through to the end. The fate of her people might one day rest on her dedication to such duties.

With that, she turned, heading back towards her alcove and the magical text that called to her.