This takes place just immediately after the events of the recent Eternal Court...

Max had promised to keep in touch with the Keeper while he tracked the visitor's from out of town. It turned out to be an unnecessary precaution; the childlike Vampire and her Ghoul had been true to their word; having left the city immediately after exiting Court. Max still wasn't sure if that was reassuring or not...

As he makes his way back down the stairs, he isn't surprised Court had wound down for the evening. Max makes his way to the Keeper's office, knocking softly on the door.

Martha is hobbling back to her chamber, directly from her interview with the Prince, as Max arrives. Her leg dragging. Pale and clearly tired. She's struggling along, making heavy use...contrary to Max's advice from almost a year ago, of her cane. A bright smile as she sees Max at her door. "Ah, Reeve! Glad to see you are well! I hope all went to plan? Do you have anything to report?" she asks as she hooks her cane under one arm, brushes at her long riding dress and tunic and adjusts her top hat.

If Max looked mildly annoyed by the events of the night before seeing Martha, his expression turns to one of concern as he sees her slowly make her way back to her office. He closes the distance to his fellow Dragon quickly, instinctively offering her his arm for support. Keeper, are you alright? He wondered if it were the events of the night, or perhaps a second meeting with Anton, had taxed the other Mekhet.

Smiling and offering a brighter smile, Martha accepted Max's arm. "I am well enough, thank you, Reeve!" she tries to sound joyful. Her leg scrapes along. Pausing a moment to rest on his arm and think. She begins, "I was compelled to remove Flores from his office as Deputy, Reeve...he defied an instruction for the Deputies to stay at Court...just after you left to follow the Envoy. His slowness in obeying you earlier and his walking out of Elysia just after placed an intolerable burden upon his acceptance of our authority. I had no choice but to act there and then. I am sorry I did so without consulting you, but a swift demonstration was needed." she nods carefully, rubs hard at her crippled hip, biting at her lower lip for a second, before offering a smile. "I have just spoken to the Alder Prince about the Envoy and Anton. We discussed possible replacements. I should wish to talk of that matter with you also, when you are free to do so. I am glad the Envoy presented you with no trouble. Their arrival and intentions for their visit seem most obscure...they seemed to be keeping some of the full truth from us. Though to what advantage to themselves, I cannot say. Is this your impression too, Reeve?" she asks, holding tight to his arm again.

Max nods, standing still to give the Keeper time to rest herself. No need to worry, Keeper Villiers; you simply beat me to the punch. Had it not been for our more immediate concerns with the Envoy, I would had dealt with Mr Flores myself; but I felt seeing to that matter was more pressing... In truth, Max had wanted to "deal" with the matter by ripping the arrant Deputy's head and handing it to the child vampire as a souvenir of her trip to Sacramento. But it seemed cooler heads prevailed in Martha; and there was less clean up this way.

You've spoken to the Prince, you say? Hmm... Max grows silent for a few moments, looking back the way Martha had came. Did he make an appearance in Court after I left, or did someone summon him? The Reeve still looks concerned, but his face seems to shift ever so slightly; his worries changing from personal to professional.

And I agree, they were definitely hiding something. Shall we find somewhere more private, to discuss our observations? Max can't help but notice the pained flinch from the smaller Mekhet, lowering his voice to maintain the Herald's privacy. And perhaps more comfortable for you?

Martha nods, looking bashful. "Thank you, sir...that would be kind." she paused. "I went in search of the Alder Prince, sir...so I made a report to him. It was a productive encounter!" she tries a smile. Rubbing harder at her crippled hip she nods towards the door. Opens the door to her chamber once she and Max are there and gestures for him to enter.

If Max noticed the self-conscious look on the Keeper's face, he shows no sign of it. Hmm, I was hoping to avoid drawing attention to the Prince in case we were being watched. But if he was already in the building I'm sure it will be fine...

He steps out of the way of the Keeper, allowing her to open the door to her office before stepping through. He turns, once more offering his arm for Martha is she so chose. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice suggests offering to carry the struggling Mekhet to the couch; an idea the Reeve quickly dismisses. At best it could be seen as insulting, at worst there was the very real possibility of being smacked with the cane for being too forward.

Instead, he calmly waits for Martha to make herself comfortable before continuing. Did you mention the names of the Envoy, or the supposed Prince of San Fransisco? Did either name provoke a response from the Prince?

The names? Martha blinks as she gestures to invite Max to sit on the couch next to her. Her office is busy with books, notes and the paperwork of city and club business. Sitting with as much grace as she could, her leg stiff. Trying a shy smile. "I mentioned the name of the Prince. I did not mention the name of the envoys. Perhaps I should have done so. I shall do so, or...if you'd rather, you may. It was a detail I overlooked to mention." she hangs her head in contrition.

Max takes the offered seat at one end of the couch, relaxing a little as he studies the room, both out of curiosity and because it gave him a way to avoid watching Martha struggle to sit. It amused him how much it reminded him of his own, personal office on campus. Of course, his shelves were filled with books about history and mythology; archeology and the occult. He wonders if it was a natural instinct for his family to surround itself with information and knowledge, in the same way the Ventrue surrounded themselves with power and the Daeva with beauty.

The Keeper's words bring Max out of his distracted pondering and back to his fellow Dragon. He raises a curious eyebrow at the dejection that sets in over the Herald; he wasn't used to seeing her so easily cowed. Don't worry over it; the only reason I ask is because I'm not entirely sure this isn't some personal plot against His Majesty. If either of the visitors, or the other Prince, were someone from Prince Clarke's past it would give us somewhere to begin our investigation. I'm merely attempting to formulate a concrete starting point for making sense of all this...

Max grows quiet for a moment, both to let his words sink in with the Keeper, as well as give himself time to think. I will of course speak with the Prince. It's my responsibility as Reeve, and perhaps it will give me a chance to gain a few more pieces to this puzzle. My current problem is, the pieces we have seem to fit together too perfectly...

The books on her shelves are almost identical in theme and topic to Max's, with the addition of textbooks on postmodernist theory, music and sociology. There are maps too. Martha continues to look contrite as Max talks, nodding often. Folding her hands in her lap. "Thank you, Reeve. Very kind. I will, of course, help where and when I can with any additional activity. The plot you outline sounds credible, sir. It will be interesting to see what the Alder Prince has to say upon the matter...and what we can do to protect him!" his defense seems a very urgent matter, to judge by her tone.

Max laughs softly at Martha's concern for the Prince; though he had to wonder if the reason for the concern was professional or more... personal in nature. Clarke seemed to have that effect on women. I think they would have more to worry about from the Prince than he from them. But you're right, every precaution must be made for his safety, and the safety of the city.

The Reeve hated to think what would become of the currently civil state of city politics if the Prince was to sudden expire. Well, civil by Kindred standards at least...

Max lets out a long, tired sigh; the night had started out so promising before Court... An interesting night to say the least...

Martha finds herself, again, in agreement with this and smiles and nods. Her smile genuine. She tucks her hands now under her slim thighs. She giggles, taken in by Max's jocular demeanor. "Interesting indeed! I have learned a great deal this evening, Reeve!" she has a few questions, but decides to let the lighter mood linger a while longer. Smiling again at Max.

Yes, it has been quite... educational. Whatever lessons he might have learned, the Reeve keeps to himself. Max grows silent for a few moments, absent-mindedly rubbing his temples. A weary smile spreads across the Shadow's face as Martha uses his title. You know, I hate using titles. So much pomp and circumstance over such transitive things as positions and power... The smile fades as quickly as it appears, Max shaking his head to clear his thoughts and attempt to get back on track. How have your Studies been going, if I might ask?

Martha wanted to rub hard at her leg. But was keen to abide by recent learning experiences, so she simply sat there. Wriggled slightly and tried a shy smile. She nodded timidly as Max sought informality. "Ah, sir...my studies go steadily and slowly." she releases a small hand from under her crippled thigh, gestures to her desk which is heavy with notes and college notebooks, "I am concentrating on several things, but one of which is mapping the city and its more esoteric energies and sites, sir. I had received help in this matter from several Kindred, but they all seem to leave the city or lose interest in the project." she giggles nervously, her free hand rubs at her stiff knee.

As Martha shifts, so does Max; the female Mekhet's motions subconsciously making the Reeve fidgety at well. I'm glad to hear your studies are going well; despite the pressures of your duties here... That Max's own studies had suffered because of his schedule was a rather annoying fact he did not wish to dwell on at the moment. Just be careful in your explorations, I've found lay lines and nests tend to draw the worst of the great unknown to themselves. I tend to avoid them myself, but I would be interested to hear about anything you discover.

And I'm afraid you're correct about the turn over in Sacramento. I can count on one hand the members of the city that are remaining from the time I first arrived; and I'd wager you could do the same. For a brief moment, Max pondered if it was something about the energies of the city that caused the population to be so transitory. Perhaps something to discuss with his fellow Dragon once she'd acquired more information.

He looks down, following Martha's small hand as it reaches down to rub at the pained joint. Perhaps I should go, I don't want to tax you if you're in discomfort, Keeper. Though, I could check upstairs to see if any of the patrons are a masseuse before I go... Max returns the soft smile, having a little jest with his fellow Dragon.

Martha took him at his word about the masseuse, she blinks. Wondering if such a thing is possible. She toyed with the idea of going to see if she could get the water pool working that was left after the Heat Night. A bashful smile. "Oh...well...I...no need to leave on my account, sir..."

She wanted to thump hard at the joint. Looked to her leg, then back to Max. Another shy smile. "I...I look forward to our next meeting, sir...please be careful out there! We should keep in touch, sir...with greater frequency. We should guard each other, sir!" she nods. Sits on her hands. Then struggles to stand so she may bid the Reeve a good evening. Tiny Martha offers a curtsy.

Max motions for Martha to remain seated. I simply didn't wish to inconvenience you, Keeper. Though, you did seem to wish to ask me something... earlier.. Max watches as his fellow Mekhet continues to shift and adjust, looking over at her with a curious expression on his face. But first, whatever it is you need to do, please do it. I know you don't mean to Keeper, but the fidgeting is very distracting...

Martha looks momentarily close to tears. She pouts, nods glumly and definatly sits on her hands. Tucking them under her slim thighs. Growing paler, she falls very quiet and bites at her lower lip.

Max watches as Martha recedes into herself, setting on her hands. Just for a moment, he wants to take the thin woman by the shoulders and shake some sense into the woman. Instead, he rubs his temples, thinking softly to himself. Remember, it is Keeper Villiers. If she were any more reserved, she'd be the Chef's Table at the Ritz Carlton. If she wished to make herself uncomfortable despite his invitation; that was her prerogative.

Right, well then... Is there anything else you wished to discuss, Keeper? Max tries to keep his tone light, he did not wish the Herald to think him angry at her.

Martha nods meekly, she tries a smile. "Only...with whom do we replace Flores?" A gentle smile now. Her defiance appears to be more towards herself than Max. Wide eyed, she looks up to him.

Max turns the idea over in his head, finally offering a shrug of the shoulders. Honesly, I don't know. No one has really stood out over the past few months to replace our last lost Deputy. At this rate, it might just be myself and Priscus Greyson for a while... Max grows silent again, turning over that possibility in his head and finding it rather disturbing.

Ms Lawrence has the right kind of fire and attitude for it, but I'm not sure she would be interested in the position...

"I agree! She is a very vivid person!" Martha smiles, bright eyed. "What about Mr Russell?" she raises her hands. Realising that the Reeve had already thought about this and come to no firm conclusion. "Ah...I see we shall need to think about that matter...I have high hopes for some of the Kindred at Court this evening...I imagine we shall have to talk about this another time, Reeve." she offers a shy smile.

"Vivid" wasn't the word Max would have used for Brenn, but he decides to keep any evaluations of the Haunt to himself. He nods at Martha's smile, returning a weary smile of his own. Yes, I think this is going to a decision some time in the making. The recent choices for Deputy have been... unfortunate to say the least. At least Priscus Greyson has shown himself to be competent and grounded...

Let me know if anyone does catch your attention as a replacement. I think you will have more success in speaking with perspective candidates than I will... Mentioning the Priscus reminded Max Conner had wanted to speak to him after Court; the Reeve standing while holding a hand up for the Keeper to stay seated.

I'll show myself out, Keeper Villiers. I still have business to attend to tonight should you need me for anything. A respectful bow, and Max makes his way to the office door. He pauses before he opens it, turning back to Martha. Thank you for your time, Keeper Villiers; it has been most enjoyable. Though the next time we talk, perhaps it could be somewhere more comfortable for you...

Martha nods meekly, clearly in full agreement with Max. Finding herself wondering why he chooses to call her Keeper not Herald, she returns his smile happily. Pale and weary, she was about to stand when his hand stayed her action. Nodding thankfully, she sets back down onto the seat. "You are thoughtful, Reeve! A fine gentleman indeed!" a brighter smile! "I look forward to our next meeting!" she nods again and decides to stay where she is for the moment, letting the Reeve see himself out as he wanted.