Dinner and a Conversation

Ah, the hustle and bustle of the city streets. Such was wonderful to hear, as he was often cooped up inside the stuffy building most commonly known as the “White House.” Not the most original name, perhaps, but still. He had to work with what little he was given.

After a few handshakes and hellos to the peasants of Creta, members of the Royal Guard finally managed to clear the streets. A few of them stayed close by, to guard him of course, but he knew there were a few more squads in the close vicinity. One could never be too careful these days, especially with the current international political climate.

Checking his pocket watch quickly before putting it away, he sighs in impatience, his cane centered before him, with one hand on top of the other. “It seems this ‘Alena’ is either running late, or someone didn’t correct my watch.” He chuckled to himself. He always set his pocket watch to the correct time.

”She’s from what country again, Sullivan?”

”According to what little information we have, Amestris,” one of the guards says in a low voice.

Dietrich sighs. His dealings with Amestrians haven’t been as… positive as he wanted in the past few months. ”Perhaps she’s not used to the time zone difference,” he comments politely. No need to start their meeting off with a sour tone.

”My Lord,” one of the guards says, ”there’s a woman asking to speak with you, claiming to be ‘Alena.’”

”Did she use the proper name and password?”

”Yes she did, sire.”

Dietrich straightens his stance and smiles. ”Then by all means, let her through. Don’t escort her. Let’s make her feel welcome, yes?”

Ah, today was the day. The beautiful homunculus stares at herself in the mirror as she continues to dazzle her face with make-up. She curls her hair, allowing them to fall loosely around her collar bones. She put on a tight red dress, that fit perfectly against her slim and toned body. Fortunately she didn't have to travel far, considering she was already in Creta for other business. Alena slips her feet into four in black, stiletto heels and headed out of the hotel room.

The streets were crowded as people for all ages and walks of life were attempting to catch hold of their Lord. Such loyal servants, she thought to herself as she walks into the sea of people. The moment she begins walking, people part like the red sea. Eyes stare in her direction, and the men drop their jaws down the ground. This is was she loved. People staring at her, and only her for that moment.

"Ah, here we go." She mumbles underneath her breath as she walks up to the Royal Guards. Each of them were attempting to hold firm and not stare at the woman. Vanity gives a light wink at a couple of them, catching the men off guard.

"Sir Lewis Harrison Merriwether III, please." She mutters lowly so others around would not catch drift of the name and password.

"My lady, what's the password?" The guard questions quickly and forcefully.

"Hogwash" She gleams into his eyes with passion before breaking eye contact. Immediately the guard faints and other runs a head to let his Lord know of her arrival.

Vanity stands at the grand entrance awaiting his appearance. The woman stood with a upper class stance, and barely looked around the room. It was beautiful, and she could easily see herself walking these halls more often.

Dietrich watches as the young Guardsman begins his return trip to his post. ”Sullivan, I want that man’s radio inspected immediately. If it’s working fine, transfer him to somewhere remote.”

Sullivan nods, already in contact with an on-site repairman.

”Girard, Hunter, come with me,” Dietrich adds, already on the move. “Sullivan will catch up with us soon enough.”

The three of them make their way to the hall, Dietrich glancing at the lady before him. She certainly appeared to come from a wealthy family, but only time would tell. ”Give us some space, will you?” With the two Royal Guards changing to a more relaxed stance, Dietrich approaches the mysterious woman with a warm smile on his face. ”Good to see that it wasn’t wrong of me to wear my good suit this evening,” he says. ”I hope you found it here okay, Miss Alena? I’m afraid I have to apologize for any inconvenience the security checkpoints might have caused you. But I digress.” Standing up straight, he gives a small bow before extending a gloved hand. ”I am Lord Dietrich von Vermont, King of Creta, and its Prime Minister as well. Though this, I’m sure, you know already. However, I’m afraid I don’t know a lot about you, Miss Alena.”

As the fine looking gentleman enters into the room, Alena couldn’t help but smirk to herself. He was something to look at, that’s for sure. Easily he could become eye candy for her to pleasure with in the near future. Her dress was perfect; nothing about her appearance was flawed, so she expected the same in return. To her surprise, he was almost as well dressed at she. ‘Impressive’ she thought to herself before taking a few steps closer to the Lord. Her eyes examine the fellow up and down a couple of times, before making direct eye contact with his eyes. There was something behind that stern outer appearance that he gave off, and she was curious to find what exactly lurked behind those heavy eyelids. Inside of this man was a story, something that set him apart for many others. It was his own, and she was curious as to exactly what the story entailed and kept hidden within the pages.

“No worries, my Lord.” She answers with the utmost respect and nods as he explains his formal name. Truth be told, Alena didn’t know all that much about Dietrich, in fact she was taking a gamble just coming here in the first place. For now, however, she just plays with the best of them, and can easily convince those around she knows exactly what she is talking about.

“Yes, my name is Alena” Vanity extends her hand for him to kiss out of politeness before curtseying. “Oh, I’ll explain more about me and where I come from in a few moments. Please, shall we be on our way? I rather not discuss certain circumstances in front of others.” Her voice flutters like butterflies, giving a sincere and reliable tone to the human ear.

Dietrich raised her hand with his own gloved one, curious as to her expectation for him to kiss it. Sure, such a lovely woman normally deserved such attention, but this didn’t qualify as a normal situation.

“My apologize, Miss Alena, but I’m afraid that I’ll have to withhold on that kiss until we know who you are.” He holds her hand gently in between both of his. “But that is only more of a reason to get introductions out of the way, yes?” He gives a small, polite smile.

He scanned her over a good time, pondering the woman’s background. Who she is, who she was, who she was trying to be. No one asked to speak to him without a reason, which was part of why he allowed her to speak with him. But such didn’t concern him. He held the high ground, so to speak. Or so it seemed.

“Let us take a walk, Miss Alena,” he says, beginning a leisurely stroll through a hallway. Behind them, trailing by a few meters, were Girard and Hunter, though they were soon joined by Sullivan. “Like a casino, Miss Alena, there is always someone watching in my home. I can promise my men out of earshot, but not out of sight. Those are my conditions if you wish to continue this conversation.” Pausing briefly as two more guards opened the doors to the ballroom, he adds, “ Though do you know Drachman? Xingese? Aerguese? I’m afraid these are the only languages I know fluently at the moment, but if you wish our conversation to be private, then they are viable options.” Walking into the ornate and well-lit ballroom, he motions to the guards to give them some space. ”Now, if these conditions are not to your satisfaction, then please, have a meal at my expense, and then take your leave. However, if you feel that the conditions are fair, then we shall continue our conversation over a meal?” He raises an eyebrow slightly, waiting for her response.

{BUMP}