Reborn From the Cosmos

Arc 8-17 (Marcella)

Marcella was in one of the offices of the Golden Feathers when she received word of her sister’s return. She spent most of her time in the hotel, which was true for many important persons in the city whose wealth hadn’t been swept away in the destruction; the Feathers was both the safest and most luxurious building standing, it was only natural that persons of means would flock to it. It was also expected that they would have business with Marcella.

Her designs on the city weren’t secret, as she made no efforts to be discreet, merely faster than anyone else. No one criticized her. Rather, they were excited about her ambitions; nothing was as reassuring as the intervention of a Guiness. They were sure that she would see trade restored to the city and progress always followed money. Every day, she received missives and invitations to meals from those that either wanted to check in on her or inquire how to secure a little profit for themselves.

Yet, despite their anxious inquiries, she’d yet to see one of the young servants that often played the role of messengers come into her office with quite so much urgency. She wasn’t the type to waste time insisting on manners, but social conventions were a hard thing to put aside. It was rare that they didn’t knock softly and wait for permission to enter but that afternoon, a young man dressed in the white uniform of the Feathers’ employees practically barreled through the door, panting for breath, face red with effort.

Marcella raised a brow at his state and that was all it took for the man to remember himself, quickly straightening and looking aside in shame. “Yes?”

“Forgive my intrusion, my lady. Your sister has returned.”

“That shouldn’t be a cause for such concern.”

“No, of course not. She arrived with…guests and they are causing quite the commotion. A potentially violent one.”

Normally, a ruckus would swiftly be handled by the knights. Saints forbid, even some of the employees were capable of handling unruly guests, as the Guiness had a tendency of hiring ex-soldiers ready to put down their swords but lacking a trade. But the presence of her sister would make things difficult. They’d be hesitant to lay a hand on Maxine’s guests.

What Marcella found incredible was that Maxine was hanging around a group causing such a commotion. It was very much unlike her soft-spoken sibling to be anywhere near a scene, let alone the center of one. She’d thought the rash business trip was a fluke, a daring betrayal of her usual nature. It’d be interesting if it were a trend.

“Tell them to remain calm,” Marcella said as she rose from behind her desk. “I’ll be there shortly.”

The boy looked immensely relieved as he darted out of her office, Marcella following at a much more sedate pace. She wasn’t the type to run anywhere but, more importantly, her arriving in a frenzy wouldn’t help to calm the situation. The only concession she gave to the supposed urgency of the situation and her own curiosity was a slightly hurried pace.

The scene she found in the lobby didn’t disappoint.

In the middle of the opulent lobby was a scene that called to mind the dog fighting rings some of her more unruly dates had dragged her to, a ring of people surrounding two bloodthirsty creatures, watching with a mix of excitement and apprehension as two things savagely tore into one another. No blood had been spilt yet but the young woman squaring off against one of her guests had the same tense, aggressive posture of a beast barely being held back by its handlers. 

The merchant’s practiced eyes took in the woman’s appearance, the abundance of dark leather, her tanned skin, the wide-billed hat her dark hair was tucked under, and concluded that she was from Graywatch, the people of the shore had a very distinctive look, which answered a number of questions and sparked several more. Behind the two angry people that looked ready to come to blows at any moment were several more pirates crowded near the entrance, hands palming knives and daggers as they waited to see if it would come to violence, though Marcella noted with some relief that they looked rather exasperated by the prospect.

Finally, her gaze found her target. Maxine stood off to the side, looking rather dashing with her hair cropped short and dressed in the informal wear of the shore, leather pants and a loose shirt. The look of a ruffian paired with the grace of a noblewoman created an adorable juxtaposition that could have hearts swooning if her sister bothered to use her saints’ given talents. Unfortunately, her sister looked nervous, something that told Marcella that she had no confidence in controlling her guests.

Her gaze kept going till it found the two knights and five employees huddled near the front desk, who were also watching her. A quick gesture of her head told them to continue standing down, but they moved forward, readying themselves to defend her if things turned nasty. Putting a charming smile on her face with the practiced ease of an action practiced thousands of times until it was perfected, Marcella stepped into the chaos.

Two irate gazes snapped to her as she spoke. “Is that a new face? Hello, lovely~ Welcome to my hotel. Will you do me the pleasure of sharing your name before you destroy anything?”

The young woman blinked at her. Marcella marveled at her blue eyes, the color of deep waters, and their odd star-shaped pupils. Seeing that her friendliness had distracted her but that the pirate was still tense, she upped the brilliance of her smile a few notches.

To her surprise, the pirate didn’t relax but backpedaled, staring at her with furrowed brows. “Wat are ya? Some kind of land witch?”

Marcella’s mind raced through what she knew of Graywatch’s culture, trying to discern the meaning of the strange words. Unfortunately, someone jumped into the gap in the conversation.

“You dare insult Lady Guiness?” the irate man who’d been staring the pirate down snapped. It was comical. There was always a chance that he was a proficient caster but, at a glance, the older man with an indulgent stomach didn’t look like he stood a chance against the young woman whose tight-fitting clothes hid nothing of her figure. Even her jacket couldn’t hide her broad shoulders. Marcella would bet good money that she could beat the low noble to death with one hand.

“That’s quite alright, Lord….Winslow.” Many people thought her body was the reason she was so successful. Marcella leaned into the perception. No matter how much she achieved, her opponents, namely her siblings, would always underestimate a lustful woman for whatever reason. They always forgot that it took a good head to run a business. And while her performance with her tutors wasn’t anything amazing, her mind was sharp. It was particularly strong with people, reading them and remembering them.

Winslow was a minor lord, the last of his line. His family name was granted to his grandfather, but it was a generational peerage. Namely, the title would only be passed to two generations before losing its power. It was an opportunity for the family to make something of themselves with the opportunities afforded to nobles. Something the Winslow family had failed to do and the last lord of the family was desperate to remedy that.

She didn’t know what he was working on in Quest but all of it had come to a screeching halt after the battle. Given the one meeting they’d had, and his repeated attempts to speak to her since, it seemed he’d decided that she was his last hope of building a legacy for his family and was desperate to be noticed by her. Desperate enough to pick a fight with pirates, even.

“I think we’ve seen enough violence lately, don’t you?”

“The saints smile on your grace, your ladyship, but I’m afraid I must protest. The city is chaotic enough without allowing these…these…”

“Go on and say it, mudlegs!” the female pirate shouted, incensed before an insult was even spoken.

In response, the lord’s features twisted into an ugly sneer. “These bandits amidst good people. The scum of the shore never leave their hovel with good intentions.”

“You!” It looked like the woman was about to throw herself at the man, but Maxine finally intervened, darting forward to put a hand on the woman’s arm. She didn’t look any happier, but the pirate froze, turning her head away from Maxine. It seemed her sister had some control over her guests after all but it was clearly a tumultuous relationship.

“Regardless of your opinion or their intentions in coming to the city, the hotel has a strict policy of no fighting and no harassment. Therefore, I’m going to ask you to leave the lobby, my lord.”

“Lady Guiness—"

“Unless you’d like to be kicked out? I won’t have rulebreakers under my roof.”

That quieted the man, his lips puckering in the distinct way of someone resisting a nastier expression. She wondered if he was stopping himself from scowling or pouting; while he was angry enough for the former, he had the distinct air of a kicked puppy that suggested the latter in equal measure. Either way, he backed down, inclining his head.

“Very well. I trust that the Guiness won’t allow them to ply their trades within these walls.”

One last attempt at flattery and a glare for the guests from the west before the lord obeyed her command and walked away. With his departure, the onlookers realized they wouldn’t get the show they were hoping for and the crowd quickly dispersed, quietly encouraged by the employees that moved away from the front desk to herd the dangerously curious mob to get on with their days. It didn’t take long before Marcella was left with just her sister, the newcomers, and a pair of knights.

“Shall we take this to the dining room?”