43 Mother-in-law (1/2)
”I don't think I've ever seen that design before.” Elya remarked, trying her best to replicate the effortless dignity the Baroness projected from her every pore.
As a trainee under Madame Rose, Elya had very little access to the inner workings of the Black Hand's Konstanz coven. The battle and demands on her time meant Elya hadn't spent much time learning from the imposing brothel owner. Too embarrassed to approach her future mother-in-law with her fears, Elya sent Alexis to gather information on the Black Hand's activity so she wouldn't have to rely on the covens explanation. Ironically, it was Madame Rose's lecture on utilising multiple information sources which instilled Elya with a healthy suspicion of all the intelligence she received.
Unfortunately, Madame Rose had disappeared on some assignment in the Baroness' name and Elya became frantic when she visited the Rose Building. Rose had taken her deputies along on her task, which meant Elya was unable to determine what Rose's orders regarding the gangs actually were. The remaining agents claimed her orders were to slip their agents into the upper echelons of the gangs. But they were passed down through too many levels, making tracing their origin impossible. However, it was a reasonable response. Taking direct actions went against the basic principles of the Black Hand. They preferred to nudge people into making the moves they desired and a means to influence the gangs behaviour rather than take full control seemed to be something Rose, and by extension the Baroness, would jump at the chance to establish.
Alexis was unable to dig up anything new, and stumped, Elya returned to the mansion in search of Eva Morales, swallowing her pride to beg for assistance. She'd barged into the garden, anxious for answers but the Baroness had taken one look at her harried expression and refused to talk until Elya regained her calm. Suppressing her anxiety, Elya unclipped her sword and slumped into a chair, lifting a cup of tea delicately in a mailed fist. Which was how Elya ended up sipping from porcelain and flattering Eva's fan. It was emblazoned with a striking purple snowflake that seemed to be moving independently of the fan itself. A fantastic design which had the hallmarks of Nikolai's interference.
The man loved to show off.
”Much better dear.” Eva's eyes twinkled in amusement. ”It's important to maintain your demeanour no matter the situation. Especially for those in our profession.”
”Speaking of profession, what is the Black Hand doing?”
”What do you mean dear?”
”Please don't toss my concerns aside. Why are you taking control of the gangs?” There was no other way to describe her actions. Essentially her son would be in charge of the town in the light of day and she would control its seedy underbelly. Morales whims would dictate every aspect of Konstanz. Not that she was concerned for the degree of power being consolidated within the House. After all in a few months that power would benefit her as well. While the war taught her to be flexible with a Knights honour code, especially in the face of screaming horrors or generally deceitful people, being in charge of a criminal enterprise went against everything she stood for.
At least the Black Hand acted as power brokers, following their own strange code.
They dealt in information, not violence.
A minor difference, but for now it was enough to placate her conscience.
”It would be foolish not to take an opportunity once presented. The gangs are notoriously difficult to infiltrate. Most criminals are either inducted at a young age or have a significant history. 'Professionals' rarely mesh well. They're too highly trained, but with the power vacuum after your and Niki's… antics… I'd rather take charge than let someone with more sinister motives cause me far more trouble in the future.”
”What about the Stardust?”
”That's come as a surprise.” She waved away Elya's doubtful gaze. ”We knew they were trafficking Stardust but the amount's unfathomable. Small amounts are difficult to deal with and we had more pressing matters. Now that we know, I'm hoping to use our influence over the gangs to close the gaps and tighten cripple the drug trade routes.”
Elya scrutinised Eva's every move, the controlled snap of her fan, her measured gestures when she poured tea, the way she settled her shawl. Some would call it elegance, but now Elya saw the artificial nature of it all. People didn't move like that. She'd seen the same movements among Black Hand agents, rigorously trained until their every twitch served a purpose. Strangely, it reduced Elya's fear of the woman.
She'd never flinched in the face of danger.
Only in the face of an in-law.
Screwing up some courage she stared Eva down, leaning forward and placing her sword on the table.
”If you are to be my Mother, we need to speak freely.” She raised a finger to stop Eva from interrupting, taking a moment to emphasise her point. It was a simple trick she'd seen Nikolai use to great effect. Curling the finger, she scratched her scar, tracking the flickering of Eva's eyes. ”Why are you in charge of the Black Hand?”
All of a sudden, the Baroness' expression froze, the assumed elegance melting away to reveal deep, calculating eyes and a dark smirk curled her lips. The danger emanating from the woman spiked and Elya almost pulled her sword from its sheath, but managed to retain control.
An instinctual reaction.
”Good girl. Thought you'd spend your time bowing to my every whim. Almost regretted arranging this marriage.” Eva slammed the fan closed on the table and leaned forward, ignoring the clattering porcelain and spilled tea. ”I need someone strong.”
”For what?” Elya whispered, stunned by the shift in the woman's behaviour, almost like she was caged with a predator.
”Artem and Nikolai have a personal vendetta against the Black Hand. A vendetta they hide deep under the surface to avoid the organisations attention.” The twisted grin turned into a sad smile and Eva sighed, tidying the cups and pouring more tea. The artificial elegance was gone, now replaced by lithe movements like she was a trained dancer. Or a trained assassin. ”You must have heard the supposed stories of my meeting with Artem.”
”He saved you from bandits.” Elya recounted lamely when the Baroness paused expectantly.
”Yes. Something like that.” Eva chuckled, eyes shining at her memories. ”Actually, I was the bandit. Pick up your jaw dear, it's not quite so sinister. I was a White Crow at the time, tasked to hunt down some merchants overstepping their bounds and taking the Hand's business.”
Elya nodded dumbly. She'd thought the Baroness was only in charge of the coven. Madame Rose had implied as much. White Crows were low level agents in the Black Hand, experienced enough to handle tasks on their own but still new to the organisation. Elya herself was inducted as a Fledgling Dove, a rookie administrative rank according to Rose.
”I'd just finished roughing up one of my targets when Artem came charging out of the nearby forest. To this day he still refuses to explain what he was doing there alone but whatever it was, he managed to catch me.”