Logbook entry

Emerald Repatriation Society: Camelot (Part 29)

08 Jul 2024Vasil Vasilescu
“I can’t believe you cocked this up, Vasil.” Octavia stood on one of the terraces of her summer villa, looking out over the valley. The crisp alpine air did nothing to cool her temper. Vasil, seated at a table under a vine-draped trellis, idly wondered how snow capping the distant, jagged mountains managed to not melt from the radiant heat of her anger.

Octavia turned to face Vasil, jabbing a finger in the air at him. “You said a simple favor would help ensure an ERS settlement on Cubeo. And now you are telling me you ruined the entire deal.”

A slave approached Octavia bearing a tray and a drink. Octavia, fury in her eyes as blood red as the sangria being offered to her, snapped at the slave. “Did I tell you to bring this!”

The slave kept his eyes down and said nothing. She had told him to fetch it, but he knew there was no right answer when Stăpâna Octavia was in one of her moods. It was best to say nothing, let her vent and accept whatever verbal abuse she felt suitable.

“Just go, you moron!” she snarled. “Before I sell you to the mines!”

The slave nodded his head, took two steps back and hurried away.

“I got too aggressive, tried to close a deal, and miscalculated Lady Mercy’s reaction,” admitted Vasil. “Nothing will remedy that. However, there is still a possibility of salvaging this if you, as head of the family, approach Count Goodness.”

“Oh with that COVAS? Remind me again how well that worked in your negotiations with Mercy. Vasil, you don’t even know if it has any useful information about where the Count’s son is.” Octavia dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. “I’ll look like a fool if I try to use that as a bargaining chip. Thanks to you, this is no longer something that can be resolved by negotiating.”

Looking foolish and losing were two things that never appealed to Octavia. The majority of her anger over the situation was that she perceived his mistake as a loss not just for her but for the family. Vasil had to redirect her anger into more constructive thoughts and the easiest way to do that was with a question.

“So, what do you think we should do? Cut our losses and abandon the idea of a foothold on Cubeo?”

“No. I may still be able to salvage something out of your failure,” she said with a frustrated sigh. The angry set of her jaw eased. “The trick will be making our weak position appear to be one of strength, but we have to be careful. I don’t want it to backfire like your supposed favor and leave us worse than we started.”

Vasil said nothing. He expected her to sprinkle into the conversation little reminders that he’d not lived up to her expectations. It was her way of reminding him that as head of the family she was displeased. Eventually she would get it all out of her system.

“The Mercys have more money than we and the Goodnesses combined, and could likely financially ruin either of us if they set their mind to it,” said Octavia. “The Goodnesses, however, have the social and political clout to do the same to us or the Mercys.”

“And what about us?”

“I think we have a slight edge in popularity and public opinion because of the ERS. Ruining a popular charitable organization would be more harmful than beneficial to them, so we have that as a buffer… and we have an Imperial Legacy.”

Vasil did not see the benefit of something with roots so far in the past. “Does it really matter the Vasilecus were present at the founding, or that we have an ancestor in the Hall of Martyrs?”

“In certain circles, yes it matters. It is known the Vasilecu family has always been loyal to the Empire even when other families tried to turn it against us. That loyalty lends a weight to our legacy which those new blood Mercy’s cannot even dream of moving, much less ever achieving. But from what I know about the Count, none of that will matter.”

Octavia paused, collecting her thoughts. “Maybe if Cesare or Luna were still alive to approach the Count. Their military standing might make him more amenable, but neither you or I, especially you, will likely get anywhere with the Count.”

“It’s his son that needs to be found, Octavia. He was the one that told the Mercy's to find him; the Count will have to be approached.”

“Children also have mothers,” said Octavia with acid in her tone. “Or must I explain basic biology to you? The Countess is a power player in the palace and might be open to discussing a possible quid pro quo if it she perceives it of greater benefit to her.”

“Oh, a ladder-climber. She sounds like someone you’d get along with just fine,” said Vasil. “Assuming you two political witches can avoid knocking one another off your brooms.”

“You are not nearly as amusing as you believe yourself to be, Vasil, and your attempts at wry wit are sophomoric at best.”

Octavia took a breath and adjusted the line of her corseted silk dress to ensure it was perfect, a habit Vasil recognized as Octavia preparing to make a pronouncement which she would hear no arguments against. “Building a settlement on Cubeo is now out of the question thanks to you. I will have to deal with the Countess and broker a political solution if anything is to be gained. You said Lady Mercy was going to inform the Count of your meeting. I need every little bit of information from you regarding it so there are no surprises when I deal with the Countess.”

“Understood,” said Vasil, standing. “I recorded the entire meeting. I’ll send it to you.”

“Good. If Mercy is going to the Count, maybe I’ll let him stew for a bit and see if the Goodnesses contact us first. It might tell us how eager they are to find their son.”

Vasil grunted, unsurprised by Octavia’s thinking. A family wanted their son found and Octavia was willing to make them come to her for information. “You are not just a goddamn witch, Octavia. You are a right proper bitch.”

“Thank you, Vasil,” she said with a smile. “I am sure you can see yourself out.”

She watched him leave. Even with how upset she was with him, Vasil was the only person in or outside of the family who could get away with saying such things to her. He was always careful to do it in private, and as intentionally frustrating as he sometimes was, Vasil had never tried to deceive her or undermine her authority as head of the family. He did not always agree with her decisions but he always abided by them for the good of the family.

Octavia had doubted her father when on his deathbed he told her to call Vasil back to Emerald. What could the errant son, thirty years gone from the family, possibly do to help? The old man was right, though. Vasil returned and he’d become more valuable to her than she could have guessed.

The Emerald Repatriation Society was his idea and it had done more to advance her political aspirations than anything she had planned to do. Its success wildly exceeded her expectations, allowing her to gather popular and political support beyond the planet Emerald and the Cemiess system.

Losing the opportunity for a settlement on Cubeo reminded her that Vasil worked best behind the scenes. He was a Merlin to her Arthur. Though he would take up the role of a Gawain or Bedivere on the front lines if she required it, Octavia knew it was best to keep him in the background advising and working his magic. She just had to be sure to keep any Morgana's away from him.
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