Dinner with the Baron

It had been an interesting evening.  She had finagled an invitation to the Baron’s dinner party, and sat between Miss Zanya and Mr. Brear.  Both had seemed very friendly, though a bit lacking in the social graces.  Mr. Brear  seemed to be uncomfortable with ‘high society’, and she had once caught Miss Zanya cutting her food with something that looked appallingly like a bayonet.   

It had been good though, meeting the various  people from all over the Steamlands.  The Baron and Frau Lowey had been quite gracious, and the others had all been quite kind.   Mrs. Ortega had been glowing after her recent nuptials, and Lynn had been happy to make the contacts that she had there.

Of course, there was also the unpleasantness that went on, such a bother.  Frau Lowey had been attacked, and extremely sensitive notes had been stolen.   These notes had been kept in, of all places, the Frau’s bodice.   Lynn of course would never keep sensitive notes there, too many people had access, but then she had to admit, not everyone was quite like her.

Lynn had of course helped with the search for missing equipment and supplies needed to brew up the cure for the Frau, and in fact had found one or two of the items required.  One item had required her climbing down an ice wall, not an easy task in her gown.  A gown that was quite sedate by her normal standards – and grey, do you believe it? – but she thought had had a certain elegance and gravity not always achieved by others in her profession. And her hair, it had been done up  nicely in a slightly complex updo.   She had tried to be the ‘formal, sober lady’ and thought she had done quite well in that role.  And climbing in those heels….?

Oh yes, the unpleasantness.   Luckily they had found the items in time to save the Frau – such a nice lady she was – and then faced the unfortunate task of discerning which of the attendees was the culprit.  Mrs. Ortega had been quite shrewd in her questioning, and then others had found footprints that matched the evil doer’s feet.  Of course, the prints had not matched a pair of exquisite Italian stilettos, so no one had suspected Lynn.

The miscreant had tried to escape, but Miss Zanya proved to be quite the markslady, killing him with one shot to the heart.  Quite impressive.  In Lynn’s line of work, you never knew when you may need a bodyguard, and Miss Zanya appeared to be an excellent choice. 

Speaking of hiring, two last items arose out of the dinner. One was her decision to look for a personal assistant/manager in order to handle the financial aspects of her position(s).  Someone that could be discreet, let people know about her performances on stage and elsewhere, and to negotiate all those bothersome details.  And take a cut, of course.  She decided she would get some inquiries out there, she really did want to get things going.

Oh, and the second.  She had been discreetly approached after the dinner by someone wondering if a rendezvous was perhaps available.  After arranging the details, including the crassness of financial ones, all was agreed upon.  Lynn would need to travel a bit, and perhaps a new outfit was in order.  She did hear that sand had a tendency to get ‘everywhere’ .

(Oh, and please do note that the client has agreed to being in this story, normally I would be much more discreet.)

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