Evening passed into night, night passed into morning and still the raucous cries and jovial singing carried through into the light till most people fell unconcious in their seats. Brakken had sat in his alcove, occasionally resting his eyes until the the sun rose above the distant horizon. When all others were otherwise incapacitated, he happilly left the room, his coat whipping around himslef as he ascended the stairs and into the Ladys room.
She sat on the bed, her maid at the desk with a quill and parchment in hand.
At his appearance, the Lady stiffened, momentary shock coming before outrage.
"What on earth do you think you are doing?" she frowned deeply, "OUT!"
Brakken stood his ground, adopting a slightly humorous smile, knowing.
"Oh I will leave, but not before I've left a parting comment," he moved further into the room towards the desk, "It is quite a strange occasion when an African Maid is writing letters," he did not divulge his complete theory, he was going to play this card very close to his chest... to ensure it ran as smoothly as possible.
"And what exactly is that supposed to imply," she looked at him, guarded and wary. Again Brakken moved ever closer to the desk. He did not move his eyes from the Lady, but out of the corner of them he saw a small, black swan gilded with gold made out of wood.
There was a strange intensity within the room however that set Brakken on edge. He felt impulsive, a thrill tingled down his spine and he wanted to be reckless. Moreso, he felt a hatred for the Lady... any feeling was a strange feeling for him, let alone one so powerful. Immediately he felt compelled to begin an argument, but using every ounce of self-control he could muster, he kept his every muscle composed and relaxed.
"I think you have an idea, I also believe your little Maid here is more than what she says she is... go ahead, prove me wrong," he challenged, he wanted a reaction, he wanted her to respond to his words but she was every bit as controlled as he. Here in this room, he found himself a worthy opponent. One he rather admired.
"I do not need to explain anything to you... what I wonder however is why you are still here," Brakken leant casually against the soft wood.
"On the contrary, you may wish to explain the situation in the future, so I would take said oppurtunity now," he did not hope to gain a confession by any means. His fingers touched the swan, Ursa was watching her master and her eyes were locked on his.
"I hope you are threatening me Brakken, for I would be delighted to remind you just what you truly are, and utterly destroy you..."
"Oh how marvellous, I look forward to this little war, Lady Eventide," he beamed at her dazzlingly, his eyes alight, and with more happiness than was owed to the situation, left the room.
Once he had returned to his room, he took the tiny scroll from his pocket and glanced over it.
"My dear Liz,
I have the money now,
Say the word and we shall leave.
Excellent, Brakken thought, he could set his plan into motion the minute he left this cursed place.