Tîgró Gazæ Oßläße's soft slippers padded gently atop the path as he made his way through the streets of ZàÞça. He enjoyed walking the town, or did at least during this quiet time of year. Under the soothing sun's rays with the sea breeze blowing up from the inlet, the city was peaceful. It was when the high season came and the town filled with foreigners that it was no longer pleasing to Tîgró. That time of year was soon approaching, and as such he was already making plans to move out to his villa closer to his family's farms in Ñabivtzi. Besides, he needed a holiday... And that was the perfect excuse.
Now, though, he was all business. Dressed in his finest, bright orange kurta over beige trousers. Perhaps not the most formal to some people, but it did the trick. At least the colour was - in his mind - impressively bright. He only hoped not too bright for the woman he was on his way to meet. Lady Zara Marija Zûtran; her reputation surely did precede her. This wouldn't be the first time Tîgró would meet the cold and calculating woman, but it was still significant. Tîgró hoped the two could come to some arrangement that, as two of the most powerful families on Trótskarr, they might 'join forces', so to speak, in a mutually beneficial business deal.
While he certainly wouldn't reveal this to her, Tîgró was worried about the future of his family's businesses. The Oßläße controlled almost a majority stake in the continent's Noîka trade and while this had once seen them thrive, the increasing costs of make-up production was becoming a problem. Tîgró knew he had to find a new market if he was going to keep making profits.
Finally arriving at the home he had been seeking, he paused in front of the door to look up at the place, both in admiration as well as to collect his nerves. Tîgró was not usually a nervous man, but if the reputation of this woman was correct he truly needed to be careful, and not commit to too much. Stepping forward he raised a hand and rasped his knuckles on the door before stepping back to wait. He hoped that Lady Zara had received his letter telling her of his intention to visit, and that she was in this house at all. Further, he hoped she would not be too offended at his self-invitation. Surely not... He told himself. We will both benefit from today. She will be happy to see me as a friend, not a rival.
Now, though, he was all business. Dressed in his finest, bright orange kurta over beige trousers. Perhaps not the most formal to some people, but it did the trick. At least the colour was - in his mind - impressively bright. He only hoped not too bright for the woman he was on his way to meet. Lady Zara Marija Zûtran; her reputation surely did precede her. This wouldn't be the first time Tîgró would meet the cold and calculating woman, but it was still significant. Tîgró hoped the two could come to some arrangement that, as two of the most powerful families on Trótskarr, they might 'join forces', so to speak, in a mutually beneficial business deal.
While he certainly wouldn't reveal this to her, Tîgró was worried about the future of his family's businesses. The Oßläße controlled almost a majority stake in the continent's Noîka trade and while this had once seen them thrive, the increasing costs of make-up production was becoming a problem. Tîgró knew he had to find a new market if he was going to keep making profits.
Finally arriving at the home he had been seeking, he paused in front of the door to look up at the place, both in admiration as well as to collect his nerves. Tîgró was not usually a nervous man, but if the reputation of this woman was correct he truly needed to be careful, and not commit to too much. Stepping forward he raised a hand and rasped his knuckles on the door before stepping back to wait. He hoped that Lady Zara had received his letter telling her of his intention to visit, and that she was in this house at all. Further, he hoped she would not be too offended at his self-invitation. Surely not... He told himself. We will both benefit from today. She will be happy to see me as a friend, not a rival.
When Tîgró Gazæ Oßläße had reached out via letter asking for a meeting, one of Zara’s brows had carefully arched and her eyes had become suddenly sharper, as if she was a bird of prey scanning the fields for her next meal. The Oßläße Family was truly the only real competition that the Zûtrani had over Trótskarr; they were so strongly entrenched that neither Baldassar’s parents, nor herself and her husband had tried to usurp overtly the powerbase of the Ñabivtzi-focused family. Zara had met Tîgró before, on several occasions, but they had carefully kept their distance, dancing around each other in accordance with the customary politeness. A meeting in her home, however, meant that Tîgró wanted something.
Her mouth set in a thin line, she stepped outside in the garden, letting the fresh air and the chirruping of the birds settle her mind. It had already started churning the possibilities; there had been rumours. Not planted by herself, for once, but rather gathered and brought by loyal servants from the markets and from their own meanderings. Zara encouraged information-gathering and rewarded valuable intelligence; it was a custom that the old Zûtrani parents had instituted, and which worked marvelously. Even small tidbits, like the fact that such family had bought less than the usual share at the market, were important. It all added up, to be used when the time was right.
Such as now, for the discussions with Tîgró. The Zûtrani matriarch had dressed richly, all brocades and embroidery in a deep shade of purple which made her eyes seem even darker, but still choosing to stay in line with the ZàÞça fashions. It was an image carefully studied for a true daughter of Trótskarr, while still hinting at Püertagœ influences and riches. The Zûtrani had struggled for a while, after the death of her husband, but she had managed to keep it together then and she would never allow the Oßläße or anyone else for that matter to see anything else but a powerful woman. Older, true, but still sharp and strong, and used to making things happen.
When Tîgró arrived, he would be shown in and would find Zara waiting on the terrace, in the shade, cold refreshing Mët-L'ak and a plate of In’Tera on a small table. She had just finished a correspondence to her son Xandru, keeping him appraised of certain happenings, and was rolling up the small parchment written in code. She rose at his entrance, in welcome.
Her mouth set in a thin line, she stepped outside in the garden, letting the fresh air and the chirruping of the birds settle her mind. It had already started churning the possibilities; there had been rumours. Not planted by herself, for once, but rather gathered and brought by loyal servants from the markets and from their own meanderings. Zara encouraged information-gathering and rewarded valuable intelligence; it was a custom that the old Zûtrani parents had instituted, and which worked marvelously. Even small tidbits, like the fact that such family had bought less than the usual share at the market, were important. It all added up, to be used when the time was right.
Such as now, for the discussions with Tîgró. The Zûtrani matriarch had dressed richly, all brocades and embroidery in a deep shade of purple which made her eyes seem even darker, but still choosing to stay in line with the ZàÞça fashions. It was an image carefully studied for a true daughter of Trótskarr, while still hinting at Püertagœ influences and riches. The Zûtrani had struggled for a while, after the death of her husband, but she had managed to keep it together then and she would never allow the Oßläße or anyone else for that matter to see anything else but a powerful woman. Older, true, but still sharp and strong, and used to making things happen.
When Tîgró arrived, he would be shown in and would find Zara waiting on the terrace, in the shade, cold refreshing Mët-L'ak and a plate of In’Tera on a small table. She had just finished a correspondence to her son Xandru, keeping him appraised of certain happenings, and was rolling up the small parchment written in code. She rose at his entrance, in welcome.
As he was led to the terrace to meet Zara, Tîgró couldn't help but feel surprised that she had clearly made some effort in her appearance, though why he should be surprised he couldn't quite say. I am just as noble as her, of course she should put in the effort. Yet despite this, he almost felt flattered. Raising a his right hand to his left shoulder, clasping it briefly, then letting his hand glide down to grasp at the front of his kurta, he briefly bowed his head in greeting. "Lady Zara, it is a pleasure to see you. I don't think I've ever had the honour of meeting you privately." He spoke softly and offered a warm smile. His face was wrinkled and weathered, his hair and beard now mostly turned to grey. However, Zara likely wouldn't have trouble recognising him from those previous meetings even years ago.
He had to admit, although Zara had several years over him, Tîgró was taken back by the sharpness of her appearance. Her eyes were ice cold, and her expression - at least at first glance - didn't seem much warmer. Despite this, Tîgró made sure to continue smiling, not wanting to come across as bitter. I can't allow her to see my troubles. If she does, she will have the advantage here. Of course, not suited to a life of politics and intrigue, Tîgró hadn't considered the very real possibility that Zara had intelligence far beyond his own. To Tîgró it was all business. After all, Trótskarr was no place for schemers and plotters. All that unpleasantness could be left in Püertagœ for all he cared. It's what they seemed to enjoy either way.
"How are you faring, Zara? I hope life and business in ZàÞça is treating you well." His tone sounded genuine enough. Indeed, he had no ill will towards the woman, but wanted Zara and himself to benefit from each other mutually. He could only hope she felt the same way.
He had to admit, although Zara had several years over him, Tîgró was taken back by the sharpness of her appearance. Her eyes were ice cold, and her expression - at least at first glance - didn't seem much warmer. Despite this, Tîgró made sure to continue smiling, not wanting to come across as bitter. I can't allow her to see my troubles. If she does, she will have the advantage here. Of course, not suited to a life of politics and intrigue, Tîgró hadn't considered the very real possibility that Zara had intelligence far beyond his own. To Tîgró it was all business. After all, Trótskarr was no place for schemers and plotters. All that unpleasantness could be left in Püertagœ for all he cared. It's what they seemed to enjoy either way.
"How are you faring, Zara? I hope life and business in ZàÞça is treating you well." His tone sounded genuine enough. Indeed, he had no ill will towards the woman, but wanted Zara and himself to benefit from each other mutually. He could only hope she felt the same way.
The formality and politeness were expected, but Zara hadn’t seen the old greeting used in a long while, and she felt a slight stirring of nostalgia. She let her smile appear slightly warmer and inclined her head slightly; a royal gesture almost, although their two families were of equal ranking as part of the Greater Families and Zara herself had only married into the Zûtrani. But she had been the matriarch for so long and the face of the Zûtrani until Xandru was able to take the position of Starosta, that it was second nature now. “The pleasure is also mine, Ethor Oßläße.” There was no need to point out that Tîgró had not used her formal title; the man was known not to participate to anything even remotely political and to make the point that he wasn’t concerned by such matters.
She stepped forward, extending her welcome and smile, until she heard "How are you faring, Zara?,” which made her stop abruptly, although she managed to cover her shock at being addressed in such a familiar manner with another smile which did not however extend to her eyes. Was this Tîgró’s way of leveling the field, or at least attempting to? He had requested the visit, and clearly wanted - no probably needed something. Was the old man trying to gain the upper hand? Did he really think it would be so easy? Zara’s mind started to churn again, considering the possibilities and what the man in front of her may actually be asking for. His smile seemed, however, genuine enough, and so she caught her sharp response on the tip of her tongue.
“Tîgró, then. How refreshing to dispense with Püertagœ formalities when one is at home.” She smiled larger, and her eyes crinkled a little considering the man who was still standing. “Come, let’s take a seat. Tea?” She didn’t hesitate further, and was back in her armchair as soon as a servant appeared and picked up the correspondence for Xandru. Dark eyes affixed on the man’s grey beard, she gestured for him to follow, and Tîgró would have the choice between two seats: one, in full sunshine, was closest to Zara. The second, a shaded armchair similar to hers, gave him a view over the city.
She stepped forward, extending her welcome and smile, until she heard "How are you faring, Zara?,” which made her stop abruptly, although she managed to cover her shock at being addressed in such a familiar manner with another smile which did not however extend to her eyes. Was this Tîgró’s way of leveling the field, or at least attempting to? He had requested the visit, and clearly wanted - no probably needed something. Was the old man trying to gain the upper hand? Did he really think it would be so easy? Zara’s mind started to churn again, considering the possibilities and what the man in front of her may actually be asking for. His smile seemed, however, genuine enough, and so she caught her sharp response on the tip of her tongue.
“Tîgró, then. How refreshing to dispense with Püertagœ formalities when one is at home.” She smiled larger, and her eyes crinkled a little considering the man who was still standing. “Come, let’s take a seat. Tea?” She didn’t hesitate further, and was back in her armchair as soon as a servant appeared and picked up the correspondence for Xandru. Dark eyes affixed on the man’s grey beard, she gestured for him to follow, and Tîgró would have the choice between two seats: one, in full sunshine, was closest to Zara. The second, a shaded armchair similar to hers, gave him a view over the city.
Tîgró had noticed the faint extending of the smile on Zara's face, and he would be lying to say he wasn't pleased with that. He was keen on the traditional greeting, it being just that little extra something that distanced him from Püertagœ. He was also pleased, and slightly relieved, that Zara didn't seem to mind him wilfully dropping the formal title, aware that many nobles in her position might have taken offence to such informality, especially when not particularly familiar. It had been something of a gamble, but seemed to work as she returned the favour with his own name.
"Ah- certainly. I'd love some tea, thank you." Tîgró's smile widened as he followed her lead back to the seats laid out before him. "And I do prefer to rid myself of any reminder of that hellish city." He said with a soft, warm laugh. Despite this, it may have been clear he was only half joking. "Why be like that, hm? It never fails to make me uncomfortable, almost as if I'm not conversing with a friendly face."
Trailing behind her, he had first moved towards the chair overlooking the city, but after a moment's pause, turned on his heel to set himself in the chair closer to Zara, enjoying the warm, soothing sunlight on his skin. "Your home is wonderful, especially with that view." He said warmly, turning his attention back to Zara while his smile remained intact. "I appreciate you letting me visit; I had been meaning to for some time. I hope my letter wasn't too blunt or short notice."
"Ah- certainly. I'd love some tea, thank you." Tîgró's smile widened as he followed her lead back to the seats laid out before him. "And I do prefer to rid myself of any reminder of that hellish city." He said with a soft, warm laugh. Despite this, it may have been clear he was only half joking. "Why be like that, hm? It never fails to make me uncomfortable, almost as if I'm not conversing with a friendly face."
Trailing behind her, he had first moved towards the chair overlooking the city, but after a moment's pause, turned on his heel to set himself in the chair closer to Zara, enjoying the warm, soothing sunlight on his skin. "Your home is wonderful, especially with that view." He said warmly, turning his attention back to Zara while his smile remained intact. "I appreciate you letting me visit; I had been meaning to for some time. I hope my letter wasn't too blunt or short notice."
Zara served the tea herself, deciding to play along for now, treating Tîgró as if they actually were old friends. After all, the Oßläße Family was a powerful presence in the south, and it was mainly due to this man, in front of her now, acting so … unpretentious. It was all to his credit, but the Zûtrani matriarch knew better than to take things at face value. A frank discussion between two Greater Families was almost unheard of; generally, even with allies, she still exchanged oblique remarks, having faith that they would understand the message and respond in kind. Only with family would she dare speak her mind truly. The Zûtrani and especially Zara herself would never be able to fully trust an outsider, although in her moments of clarity Zara acknowledged that there was trust … and there was trust. Tîgró obviously wanted something.
“Thank you.” The old home was something that Zara cherished; the house had seen all of the good times, and almost none of the bad, although there was that episode with Xandru’s coming of age. Yet, Zara felt stronger in Püertagœ, for some reason; she had fewer of the aches and pains that came with the age there, and she was also needed. Sometimes she regretted that she had suggested the story of her exile; there were a lot many things to be done in ZàÞça, certainly, but Xanadia visited often enough.
It was only in moments such as this that Zara was happy to be present; she suspected that Tîgró would have never reached out to her in Püertagœ. She waved off his concerns and poured some tea for herself as well; enjoying the sweet taste of the Mët-L'ak, she sipped slowly while formulating her response carefully. “Not at all, Tîgró, although I have a feeling that this visit is no mere courtesy call.” Her gaze was direct, inviting an answer. She played the politics game in Püertagœ, but Tîgró obviously would not react well to that. She would give him what he wanted, at least in this respect.
“Thank you.” The old home was something that Zara cherished; the house had seen all of the good times, and almost none of the bad, although there was that episode with Xandru’s coming of age. Yet, Zara felt stronger in Püertagœ, for some reason; she had fewer of the aches and pains that came with the age there, and she was also needed. Sometimes she regretted that she had suggested the story of her exile; there were a lot many things to be done in ZàÞça, certainly, but Xanadia visited often enough.
It was only in moments such as this that Zara was happy to be present; she suspected that Tîgró would have never reached out to her in Püertagœ. She waved off his concerns and poured some tea for herself as well; enjoying the sweet taste of the Mët-L'ak, she sipped slowly while formulating her response carefully. “Not at all, Tîgró, although I have a feeling that this visit is no mere courtesy call.” Her gaze was direct, inviting an answer. She played the politics game in Püertagœ, but Tîgró obviously would not react well to that. She would give him what he wanted, at least in this respect.
Once Zara had poured it, Tîgró happily took the tea cup in hand while nodding gratefully. In truth, he hadn't been sure how the Zûtrani matriarch would welcome him to her home, or whether she would at all for that matter, but found himself pleasantly surprised that she seemed to be at least willingly allowing him to pay this visit. Surely, though, she was interested to know why he was here. After all, it wouldn't take a great mind to realise he hadn't come without a reason, but Tîgró could only hope that it wasn't too obvious he had an ulterior motive.
Still, it was not as if Tîgró would be unwilling to bring the two families closer together. In his mind, the two had never been true enemies but really natural allies. They were the only two families that held sway in Trótskarr, so surely it would only make sense to improve their relations and work closer together, especially when the other families bickered and tore at each other in Püertagœ.
His thoughts were interrupted when Zara spoke again, utterly calling him out on the pretence of his visit. Tîgró wasn't surprised. The matriarch had a reputation, and - in truth - he would be disappointed if she didn't live up to it. "Ah-..." He said through a slightly embarrassed chuckle. Sipping at the tea he gave himself time to ponder his next words as he set the cup down beside him. "Well, you would be right there, Zara. All my life I have been truly irritated by the bickering that goes on between the great families in that city across the water from us, and in truth I'd like to see our beloved Trótskarr be a fine example of something better." He fidgeted slightly, as if now struggling for comfort as he was put under scrutiny. "See, Zûtran and Oßläße are the only families on this continent with any true presence, and while relations have been mild so far, I would hate to see us turn on each other the next time troubles were thrust upon us. In truth, I come today to discuss with you possibilities of bringing our names closer together so that we can better benefit each other, as well as this island as a whole. Your reputation for wisdom and shrewdness precedes you, Zara. I'm sure you can agree that our mutual cooperation would be far better than the squabbling they seem to enjoy in Püertagœ, no?"
Once he had stopped talking his eyes seemed to narrow as they met Zara's gaze, as if he were studying her; measuring her reaction.
Still, it was not as if Tîgró would be unwilling to bring the two families closer together. In his mind, the two had never been true enemies but really natural allies. They were the only two families that held sway in Trótskarr, so surely it would only make sense to improve their relations and work closer together, especially when the other families bickered and tore at each other in Püertagœ.
His thoughts were interrupted when Zara spoke again, utterly calling him out on the pretence of his visit. Tîgró wasn't surprised. The matriarch had a reputation, and - in truth - he would be disappointed if she didn't live up to it. "Ah-..." He said through a slightly embarrassed chuckle. Sipping at the tea he gave himself time to ponder his next words as he set the cup down beside him. "Well, you would be right there, Zara. All my life I have been truly irritated by the bickering that goes on between the great families in that city across the water from us, and in truth I'd like to see our beloved Trótskarr be a fine example of something better." He fidgeted slightly, as if now struggling for comfort as he was put under scrutiny. "See, Zûtran and Oßläße are the only families on this continent with any true presence, and while relations have been mild so far, I would hate to see us turn on each other the next time troubles were thrust upon us. In truth, I come today to discuss with you possibilities of bringing our names closer together so that we can better benefit each other, as well as this island as a whole. Your reputation for wisdom and shrewdness precedes you, Zara. I'm sure you can agree that our mutual cooperation would be far better than the squabbling they seem to enjoy in Püertagœ, no?"
Once he had stopped talking his eyes seemed to narrow as they met Zara's gaze, as if he were studying her; measuring her reaction.
"In truth, I come today to discuss with you possibilities of bringing our names closer together." If Tîgró wanted an alliance, the choice of words was for the least peculiar, but Zara put it on the man's lack of experience in politics. Nevertheless, it made the corners of her eyes crinkle with mirth, and it also gave her a good opportunity to surprise him in turn. "If I didn't know you were married, Tîgró, I might have thought you were going to propose an old age courtship to me." Her dark gaze was daring and teasing but good humored, especially after it dawned on her that the man, with his bright orange Kurta, resembled a Hurtulj tree, and Zara herself in purples was more like the fruit.
"A project for the betterment of Trótskarr, backed by both the Oßläße and the Zûtran Families, would be sure to attract attention and consolidate us here, I agree." Zara's dark gaze held Tîgró's, and she nodded slowly, as if considering the possibilities. "But did you have anything specific in mind, that you wanted to talk to me about?"
If Tîgró wasn't distracted by her earlier levity, he would notice that the old matriarch had essentially side-stepped his hint of troubles being thrust upon the Families, and latched on the later mention of benefiting the island. Quite obviously, Zara was choosing to push the discussion into a direction which benefited the Zûtrani most, and if Tîgró had anything else in mind he would have to work to bring it back on track. Or rather, just come forward with the truth and ask for what he wanted.
"A project for the betterment of Trótskarr, backed by both the Oßläße and the Zûtran Families, would be sure to attract attention and consolidate us here, I agree." Zara's dark gaze held Tîgró's, and she nodded slowly, as if considering the possibilities. "But did you have anything specific in mind, that you wanted to talk to me about?"
If Tîgró wasn't distracted by her earlier levity, he would notice that the old matriarch had essentially side-stepped his hint of troubles being thrust upon the Families, and latched on the later mention of benefiting the island. Quite obviously, Zara was choosing to push the discussion into a direction which benefited the Zûtrani most, and if Tîgró had anything else in mind he would have to work to bring it back on track. Or rather, just come forward with the truth and ask for what he wanted.
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