The Bird Man was correct; those within the Chandratte Syndicate do wish to know what he disclosed to Catleya, enough for her superior's superior to come looking for her at the Temple she is known to frequent. As the man is also a very distant relation of Meretris de Seleni's, he even has a social excuse for speaking to Cat. (#Noirfey, #Noxvaelia, #Imperium all belong to @Viva-la-Luna)
"I have a question of my own," Catleya ventures. "How widespread is the knowledge of who my target was, that I was dispatched, and that my goal was unattainable? How assiduously must I watch my back during the deliberations of the higher ups in the Syndicate?" Before she can deftly dodge, Haraemeis du Lac pats her sleeved arm. "Don't worry, my girl, even the identity of your intended victim was a well guarded secret within Chandratte upper echelons. And it certainly wasn't known to rivals."
"I've seen him before, merely to discuss birds... and as long as I kept to that topic, he was more than willing to speak with me." Cat pretends to frown. "However, you're correct, I wanted information, and brought a present in exchange. He rejected the gift, and barely even confirmed what I already knew: that Sobralin d'Esperis was, in fact, murdered. The Bird Man was not in a loquacious mood." "You're willing to undergo truth testing to that effect?" "I am." "Then it won't be necessary."
But she simply cannot; it would be too mortifying to bear for both of them! Not to mention encouraging a Syndicate member who is notoriously... deprecating... in his treatment of females. "Very well," Catleya begins, all business now, have you an assignment for me?" "After you failed in your last one? You are eager to prove yourself worthy again, eh? Your situation is under review by Chandratte leadership," du Lac states. "What they currently desire to know is why you visited the Birdman."
He attempts to, out of chivalry alone, of course... take her hand as they travel a few yards to the more secluded grotto. Catleya is, uncharacteristically for her, without gloves. Furthermore, she considers the familiarity which such a casual touch would imply an impertinence. Gracefully, and without appearing to do so, Cat avoids his fingers. She cannot risk angering a syndicate boss too seriously. It occurs to her that Velen catching them holding hands would be a perfect argument-starter.
"Ah, my little cousin, I thought I might find you here," says the older man, oozing charm, as he glides up to her on one of the contemplative paths. "And, lo, here I am. How fortunate for you, milord du Lac. But come away to a nearby grotto; these walks are meant to be silent, and we shall not be disturbed there if you would like to chat further, since I assume that is your intent in seeking me out." "Don't become impertinent, young de Seleni," he whispers at her, yet nonetheless acquiesces.
