Chapter 711 - An Evening at Madam Zenarie’s Emporium Ⅲ (1/2)
Leaving the elated couple and friends behind to their clamorous celebrations, Madam passes by unnoticed and makes her way to one of the concierge private rooms. Carefully knocking once, Madam Zenarie turns the silver knob before entering the lavish, but tastefully decorated chamber. Sipping rather leisurely wine in a silver chalice, the Potentate of Londo raises his sharp wolf-like eyes to meet her own. The old weathered wizard showed incredible dexterity despite his age. His white hair is neatly cut and is dressed rather well in a fine cloak rather than in his usual deceiving wool or cotton blended sweaters.
Madam Zenarie stifles a shiver and bows to the Potentate of London. ”Sanderson, the callers have yet to arrive, but they will be promptly brought in by Tamara. She knows how to bid her tongue and keep her eyes shut on the encounter that is to occur this evening.”
”Zenarie,” Sanderson slowly said with a cool expression, ”you make it sound as though I have a private rendezvous with my most mysterious and secretive of lovers.”
Madam Zenarie blanches and bows her head even lower. ”Certainly not, Potentate of London, t'was was a mere slip of the tongue. I sincerely apologize for the misspoken words of this madam.” This was the debt that she owed Sanderson for his continual protection, and this was how he elected to collect. It was a better one than most Madam's had, but that did not mean that it did not come with its own set of difficulties.
”Mm, it was a mere jest, Zenarie,” Sanderson hummed as he took a sip of his wine and gestured for her to rise. ”Excellent vintage, what year is it?”
”It is an 1878 elf made wine from the Chateau du Foix. I shall immediately order for an unopened bottle to be brought up from the wine cellar for the Potentate to collect upon the Potentate's departure,” Madam Zenarie swiftly answered as she slowly straightened back to her feet causing her skirt to rustle softly.
”No need,” Sanderson dismissively ordered. It would be far too easy for a wine bottle to be tampered with especially in such a large lapse of time. No, he would be a fool to take such a risk now. And the only reason, he had even accepted the wine bottle was because he had personally opened the wine bottle and poured the wine in a silver chalice to test for poison.
”As you wish, Sanderson,” Madam Zenarie quietly said bobbing up and down in a tiny curtsy. ”If there is nothing more to add, I shall take my leave, Potentate.”
Sanderson dismisses Madam Zenarie with one hand, before leaning back against the chaise to enjoy the wine. He swirls the rich flavor in his mouth, savory the exquisite elf wine. The wine had hints of sweetness, sourness, and an aged sensation that made the tongue tingle with pleasure. It was most definitely a good wine, and he'd have to remember to purchase a few bottles through several back channels to ensure that there would be no trace left back to him. He had no shortage of enemies and rivals, who would use such an opportunity against him and his family.
Sanderson had not been contemplating long when a knock is heard at the door. Sanderson takes another sip of his wine, before setting the silver chalice down on the table. He'd not take another sip as he did not wish for his facilities to be impaired. Leaning back, he waits as the door opens to reveal a pretty lass with oak-colored hair. Visible lacerations can be seen on the back of her hand, on her neck, and a practically deep gouge across one of her cheeks.
Sanderson's eyes grow cold as he eyes the girl's scars. There were rules in place and the only reason he had not taken the head of Mulciber's brat was that even he was bound by unspoken rules in place. However, that did not mean that the rules in place could not be bent nor twisted if certain requirements were met.
Sanderson's wolfish eyes narrow in recognition towards the wizard following behind Tamara. A sharp-faced man with dark hair ending in a widow's peak, Avery Sr. and a burly, very muscular wizard with perpetual angry eyes, Rosier Sr. He would have normally turned such a meeting down, but he had learned that Avery Sr. and Mulciber Sr. were deliberately at odds with each other. No one knew the exact reason pertaining to their sudden separation, but the more attentive members of society noted that it occurred right after the assembly held at Mulciber Citadel. Whatever had occurred between the two wizards was serious enough to warrant the destruction of their lengthy friendship that had been forged since their time at Hogwarts in their youth.
”I shall return with drinks and food for the guests,” Tamara respectfully said as she gestured for the two wizards to take a seat with a polite curtsy to them.
”No need,” Avery Sr. crisply replied as Rosier Sr. grunted darkly in agreement.