i have been thinking about what that letter pulcinella sent to sumeru about making sure all of dottore’s underlings are suitably punished might mean . . .
because of course, some of his subordinates may not have known the scope of what he was up to, and some are to simply be made redundant and given their last pay packet, and that particular job ends up falling to our beloved banker, pantalone. and mostly it’s very boring. mostly it’s grunts and laboratory staff and such, and he puts away any other files of those who may know more to the side to be dealt with later—
but then he comes to rather a peculiar one. a secretary? dottore’s notes about you mention your duties to write letters and organise his schedule and maintain his office and such . . . but pantalone knows dottore. he would never have trusted someone else to handle his correspondence, he’s far too concerned about his work, and he often simply handed that off to his segments anyway . . . and his often complete failure to attend social events proves nobody was really managing his calendar . . .
his interest is piqued enough to call you in, and the moment you step around the door with your head bowed and a look of fearful consternation on your face, it clicks into place all at once.
(zandik, zandik, zandik. always had a type, didn’t he? always liked the prissy ones, the ones who are pure as the driven snow, the ones he can mould to his exact specifications . . . and he knows his friend’s type enough too to know that you’re exactly the kind of pretty little thing that would catch his interest. because feofan shares those proclivities too).
“my lord?” you say, in a terribly cute and trembling voice with your hands clasped before you. you know what’s happened to dottore, then. pantalone gives you a slow, considering smile.
because here is the thing: nobody but pantalone knows dottore well enough that your employment as a secretary is a farce, a code for ‘bedwarmer and stress relief and pretty little fucktoy’. they would take this personnel report at face value - and as the person privy to his correspondence who organised his travel and his movements, you would absolutely be seen as complicit in his crimes. how could you not know? so, for you - execution for your part in his blasphemy.
but oh, pantalone is a kind man. pantalone can see how desolate the death of your superior harbinger has left you! and it just so happens that pantalone doesn’t have a secretary either. you’ll have to unlearn some nasty habits that he’s sure dottore has gotten you into, and really that uniform on you isn’t as becoming as pantalone would prefer, and it would be an awfully big ask for him to cover all of this up . . . so you’ll make sure to be extra sweet to him, won’t you? perhaps forgo your first few pay packets whilst you make it up to him. oh, you have family to support? well, a little loan from him at a reasonable interest can be arranged—
after all, he says, with that same smile and the tilt of his head and the flash of the jewels on his glasses chain; it would be such a shame to lose someone of your particular talents to the gallows, when dottore was clearly so fond of you and must have taught you so well— actually, sweetness? why don’t you show him just how well dear zandik had you trained?
