Where to Begin I (lock, please)
Fiona had woken up that evening disoriented at having woken up in a strange bed. Even worse was the momentary confusion at waking up in a strange bed alone. Memories of the previous evening flooded in and she smiled, stretching. Now she recalled where she was.
Nachton.
Sliding out of bed, she headed into the living room area of her suite at the Grand Piazza, wanting coffee before she thought over the events of her arrival. As pre-arranged, a steaming pot of caffeine was waiting for her and she poured a cup, inhaling the invigorating aroma. Tea was all well and good, but there was nothing like coffee first thing in the evening.
Settling into a chair near the window, she looked out over the city, and sipped carefully at the hot liquid. So much had already happened since arriving and she needed to sort as much out as she could before determining her next move. In light of Sorin's invitation to the banquet, she decided to delay her arrival at the Evenhet complex, though she needed to find out what she could about that. Sighing, she began a mental list, starting with what she would wear.
She had told Sorin she would be wearing black, which was easy enough to accomplish and made things easier for him. Black was elegant and formal and she trusted he was capable of dressing appropriatly. For a relatively casual evening out, he had been quite dashing in his attire. She looked forward to seeing what he came up with for a more formal setting. Standing, she moved back into the bedroom and opened the closet doors, stepping back to contemplate the contents. Still sipping her coffee she spied the black gown she had bought a few weeks before, but had not yet worn. Perfect. Setting the coffee down on a small table, she pulled the dress out and hung it on a hook on the back of the door, double checking for loose strings and such. There were none, which was unsurprising, given the quality of the silk dress. There were shoes to match, but she quickly realized she did not have the appropriate bra with her. Damn, that meant shopping. Well, there had to be some place in this city to acquire what she needed.
Moving over to the dresser, she retrieved her coffee cup and took a small key out of the handbag she had laid there that morning. A large wooden casket sat in the middle of the dresser and she used the key to open it, revealing a shallow tray filled with small velvet bags. Running her finger over the bags, she mentally reviewed the contents of each, discarding the majority as inappropriate for the banquet. She needed just a touch of color to accent all the black. Frowning, she lifted the tray out, setting it aside and revealed another layer of bags. Again she ran her finger over each, still not pleased with her options. This tray was also removed to reveal the base of the casket. She paused while running through the contents of the small bags, smiling at the thoughts of one in particular. Picking up one that was red, she opened it to double check the contents, unsurprised when a gold chain slid into her palm. It was almost a lariat style necklace, though it was not adjustable, and tipped with rubies. Glancing back over at the hanging gown, she nodded to herself. This would do just fine. Picking up the next red bag, she dropped a matching bracelet into her waiting hand. Setting those aside, she reached for the lower tray to return it to it's place, when a larger bag caught her eye.
This one was very old and very worn, though she had not opened it in over a century. Picking it up, she heard the muffled jingle of coins and she stared at it for a moment, uncertain why it had caught her eye. She opened this box almost daily, but it had been years since she'd paid this one bag any attention. She recalled perfectly the day she'd placed it in the box ~ the coins in it had been part of Philipe's extensive collection, dating back, oh centuries. His hobby had held little interest for her, and she had been surprised to find some of his coins in one of the stashes she had secreted through France. After the Revolution, she had quietly retrieved as many of those stashes as she could, though it had taken her about 50 years. The majority of those stashes were hers alone; she had taken little from the ones that she had shared with Philipe, not knowing if he had survived and not wanting to deny him the means to live. But these coins had not been in a shared stash. Her hand convulsed around the bag as she fought off memories and she quickly returned it to its place, not ready to deal with any of that. She'd know soon enough if Philipe had survived. The trays were returned to their places and the casket locked.
She finished her coffee and went into the bathroom to shower and prepare herself to go out shopping. The concierge should know where she could find what she needed and arrange for transportation.
An hour later she was dressed and had called the front desk, pleased they would be able to arrange everything for her. She pulled a warm leather coat out of the closet ~ it wasn't that she needed it, the cold had little effect on her, but not wearing one in this weather would make her stand out and that would not do. She switched bags to one that matched the coat and headed out of the suite, dialing Maeve's number as she went.
Maeve was not answering, so she left her a voice mail, letting her know she had called as promised and would try again later.
A limo was waiting at the front of the hotel and she slipped gracefully into it's warm depths, the nagging thought she had overlooked something running through her mind.
(OOC ~ Out and off to spend money!!!)