Her red nails scraped the polished glass to pick up the coin, a gesture of complete confidentiality. Ms. Nubbins bit her bottom lip. Lillandyr was giving trust and she always rewarded her clients for this.
TW: Crude shit-talking?
She wasn't the kind of woman to turn down gossip. Especially not about the mysterious Dracone family and their disgustingly rich, handsome and tragic men that were left to history like mistakes. Keepers of their own dark graves.
So she grabbed that coin on the table and stared at her welcome mid-day intruder with rapt attention. If Lillandyr was planning on marrying her client, that would be a lot of financial planning. Their vault was legendary, their coffers impolitely full. It was kind of a problem. What they really needed was an actual gold digger.
Here that very woman was reclined in her office, face poised to pout or pleasure as if every emotion was offensive or addictive. A walking contradiction of unnecessary lies and deeper denied ones. Nubbins saw through it all, and wasn't surprised in the least when Lillandyr announced she planned to marry Heathcliff. Proud, actually. She knew a smart woman when she met one. But was her appetite too ambitious?
"Yes. This is an excellent idea. There are many holdings I can direct you to that need attention once you are married. Lucky for you, I have most of that calculated out for this exact scenario. There will be a lot of documents you must sign. It's important you come by my office before any ridiculously opulent honeymoon you'll have for… ten years, or however long nobles vacation for these days."
She stopped herself with a wave of her perfectly manicured red nails.
"But enough of that. Tell me about his dick. Tell me about his dead dick." Nubbins grinned at her tease, snickering with Lillandyr.
"Or at least tell me about his Castle. His big, impressive castle." her eyes narrowed with emphasis as she lit up a bloodthistle cigarette for them to share.
