Green Room at the Blue Note

Sasha was grateful that Maxwell was willing to meet her. She had a lot of book work to catch up on earlier that day, so she replied that he meet her at the Blue Note. She was grateful to him for a lot of reasons, but those would be addressed at a later point.

The rolling cart was brought in, and the coffee was on a warmer near the couches. There was creamer, sugar and a pitcher of water with glasses next to the mugs. If the Wizened wanted something else, it wouldn't be a problem. She wore slacks that had a sheen, a blouse and suede blazer with flat shoes. There were still remains of the party the other day in the Green Room and she was putting them in bins that were appropriately marked. Some other items were in bins labeled from a party store, which indicated they were rentals and needed to go back.

While doing these tasks, she would lean back on her heals, finger combing her hair. It was tedious busy work while she awaited Maxwell's arrival.

The Queen had summoned, and her humble servant came, dressed in a fine black suit with a professionally pressed white dress shirt and a black tie offset by a gold-colored clip. Weapons? Concealed. Eyes? Watchful. While he was before the Queen of Winter, there was nothing but perfect professionalism permitted.

Unless she said otherwise. Then, he'd consider taking it down one single notch to 'near perfect professionalism'.

The Chatelaine entered the Queen's place of business, giving a polite little cough to make sure she heard him coming. Light as his feet were, it wouldn't do to startle her.

"Good day, ma'am. How can I be of assistance?"

He gave a little bow.

The Dancer had paused in what she was doing and smoothed her pants when she heard the coughing noise. "Oh, Mr. Pierce. Thank you for coming." She turned as he had bowed.

"Would you like to have a seat?" She offered with a hand gesturing to one of the sofas or high backed chairs. "Would you like a beverage? I have coffee with sugar and cream, water, or a drink of the bar if you wish."

The Onyx had moved closer to him; still giving him space but waiting to see if he would sit or if he would remain standing. Sasha did not recall Mr. Bates this astute or difficult to read, but, she also didn't have many interactions with him on a personal level. "I asked you here for a few reasons. The first is to thank you for all you did at the Coronation. Some things there did not go as intended." The Fairest sighed, a slight twinge of embarrassment floated over her face but she dismissed it with a soft appreciative smile.

Maxwell took a seat, gently folding his hands in his lap. "I would have a scotch and plain water if you were offering scotch and plain water, ma'am," he replied. A social beverage? Don't mind if I do.

It's better than drinking alone.

The Chatelaine replied to her thanks with a nod. "Let Each Court Know Its Function. No matter what the Dread Lord wishes to believe about people, and no matter what the Summer Sovereign believes, the Freehold Oath ought to have been advanced by them first and foremost." He sighed. "Or were you referring to the utter lack of respect for Sorrow on our night?"

He fell silent.

The Dancer crooked her finger for Max to follow her. She had to leave the Green Room in order to poor the drink. Starting to walk behind the bar, she waited for the Wizened to follow her right behind the bar. Pulling out a low ball glass from the rack, she retrieves the most expensive bottle of single malt scotch they had. It wasn't used often, as most either had middle shelf or the basic ones. "I don't often get this request, but I know the amounts are different from person to person, if you'd like to pour your own, be my guest. If not, just instruct me."

Sasha stood back to await which he preferred, but answered his questions at the same time. Her hands folded a little, but it wasn't due to nerves, she was thinking. "I agree, we need a general Freehold Oath reinstated. I will be having a meeting with the Sovereigns soon."

"The lack of respect. Honestly, that's the first time all of that nonsense happened at a Winter Coronation. Sure, there have been couples that attended, but nothing of what I experienced like the other night." The Fairest shook her head, dismayed and frustrated.

Maxwell rose from his seat, following her to and behind the bar. As she explained she didn't get the request often, an amused little smile crossed the Chatelaine's face. He held up a finger and gestured for the bottle. "Allow me." He held up the glass. He poured two fingers worth. He turned on the tap. He poured a few drops of water into the pure drink. Swirl with a wrist. "Scotch and plain water." He winked at his Queen. It was as straightforward as it sounded. "A few drops of water opens up the flavor profile. Makes peaty drinks less harsh, and in my view, more flavorful."

He nodded to the Freehold Oath thing.

"I am prepared to offer my assistance as a Pledgesmith, should you require it, though I expect that the Dread Lord and the Lady of Wrath will not have overcome their wounded pride enough to accept it. Suffice it to say that I recommend Fealty Oaths that bolster our connection to sanity. All others pale in comparison to the benefit that having sane Lost around provides."

Pierce sipped his beverage, satisfied relaxation apparent in his features.

"As for all of that... you were most gracious. I was vaguely tempted to unleash lawless men upon them after they left for their discourtesy for a little fisticuffs, but that seemed a tad overzealous."

He looked amused. Was he joking, or was he serious?

The Onyx watched while he made the drink, her eyes studying all he did. She was aware of two and three fingers of Scotch, as for the water amount that was new. "Ah, I see. I can also see why Scotch on the rocks is appealing. I presume it does something similar?" Her brow crooked a tiny bit, curious about the little things.

His advice was sound, it had been something she'd wanted for longer than Funderland had become theirs. "You don't need to sell me on it, Mr. Pierce." Gracefully, her arm extended to the way they came so they could make their way back to the Green Room.

"If you would like to give me an example of what you are speaking, I would be happy to relay it. If you want me to explain to them it is my doing, so that it really 'sells' so to speak, then let me know." She sighed wearily poured coffee and mixed in creamer.

"I often feel like no one really cares what I think despite that I have been here the longest in this Freehold." Her brow furrowed a little while she took her seat.

Shrugging a little, Sasha sipped her coffee while thinking. "I appreciate the compliment. I really hope things don't escalate to that ever again. The Autumn Coronation also nearly ended with something similar, however, it was more or less a scathing battle of wits."

"By the way, I understand the nature of your Kith. But, what how would you prefer to be addressed depending upon location of course."

"Rocks are similar in concept, but more diluting over time as they melt," he explained gently. "I find it to be a bit much, myself. If I'm to have scotch, I do mostly want to be kicked in the teeth by peat. Cutting a bit of the edge off, however, is to my liking." Because Maxwell J. Pierce wasn't a 70 year old Scotsman.

As for the rest? The Chatelaine heard her out, let her talk, let her explain her woes and her appreciation. He gave a little nod here and there, but focused in on the key point.

"I think people here revere you, my Queen. And as for an Oath, I think it depends on what you want to accomplish. A Freehold Oath, at its core, is an oath with a Fealty Task, and a Vassalage Boon, with at least a Banishment Sanction. Those things come together. A lord, binding the oathtaker to obey the laws of the Freehold and to work according to their capabilities to defend the Freehold in all ways. You can church it up, add to it, but those things are typical. And typically, it lasts for a Year and a Day for one who swears it and can be renewed."

He paused, thoughtfully considering it.

"It doesn't need to be more complex than that. It truly can be that simple. Obey the laws set out by the Monarchs. Defend the Freehold in accordance with your capabilities. Do so and you will receive ease of mind. Fail to do so and you will be banished from this land. Anything else is extra, and while extra is fine, you would be wise to determine any extras with caution."

The Fairest nodded, and she noticed he did not take an offered seat. Perhaps he couldn't sit. Maybe she forgot to offer it, but she swore she did.

She quietly whispered. "People revere me?" Pushing that part aside, Maxwell's advice was listened to carefully. She knew how to make a Pledge, but this one was a bit different than most. The full explanation wasn't a shock to her.

"No of course it doesn't need to be overdone, and let's hope it doesn't get too elaborate. This is good. I really hope all the other sovereigns are on board with this." She partially felt like a politician for a brief moment.

She couldn't decide if the Chatelaine intentionally ignored her question, or the talk of Pledge had quickly overtaken his train of thought. Maybe he was entirely all business, there were some that didn't relax or let their guard down in the slightest.

"If I may ask again, depending upon location, how would you prefer to be addressed?"

Pierce didn't reiterate or engage her whisper. He'd said his piece, and plainly she had heard it. Hopefully, it would help her to understand her strength in the Freehold. The thin man simply sipped his beverage as she spoke on with respect to the Freehold Oath, giving her a nod. "If they are not, I trust you can persuade them. Rhodes certainly seems to be. Circe seems ambivalent, which confuses me. I cannot say what the desire of the... Director is."

The way he said Director suggested that he thought the title was strange, outlandish.

"You may call me Maxwell in private, Your Majesty, if that is your wish. Mr. Pierce is also always agreeable."

He paused, a look of cold thought crossing his face as his wrist gently swirled and the scotch moved with it within the glass.

"I do have another matter to bring to your attention, ma'am. I have sent a letter to Circe with respect to her foolish assumptions with respect to me. It appears at face value that she is a thirsty child, playing at being a Queen. What value has she presented historically that I ought to consider as I let her know her function going forward?"