Year 6971 st (settled time)
City of El’Hat in the Province of Rebirth
Greta has a comfortable life here. She lives in a small mansion with a dozen servants at her disposal. She has all the wealth she’ll ever need. She’s popular amongst the rich and influential socialites of the city. But, best of all she is feared. She has blackmail material on more than half of them and the rest think she does.
The poor citizens of El’hat have no idea how depraved and wretched their leaders can be. Greta knows, because it was her job to see to their decline into depravity. She’s only been at it for 400 years, but every new generation slides down easier than the last.
Nobody knows it’s been her all these years, she’s a master of disguise and can bend light in highly convincing ways to make herself appear any age. Every 70 years or so she makes an excuse to retire to her house in the country and leaves her estate to her niece. The niece being herself with a younger appearance of course. This was her favorite time; she gets to interact with everyone as if she’s a young naive debutante. She’ll be pulling such a switch in another decade. Afterwards people will approach her with hopeful optimism, thinking they are finally out from under Greta’s influence. Breaking it to them that her auntie left her a journal that she hasn’t had a chance to read yet is pure bliss. Watching hope drain out of their pathetic eyes is intoxicating.
There is no seedy journal full of secrets, the string of break-ins always come up empty handed. Those are always followed by assassination attempts. She of course survives and goes into seclusion where she would supposedly have time to read the alleged journal. Then it’s back to work applying leverage, seducing, and of course feeding. She doesn’t indulge in the flesh, at least not the way some of her sisters do. Cannibalism has never appealed to her. Consuming a person’s spirit, now that is a delight she savors. Watching her victim’s eyes darken as she peels away a strip of their life’s essence is the only worldly pleasure she still enjoys.
Tonight’s chore is a dinner party at Deputy Governor Terrance Nassar’s estate. People will be fawning over her in an attempt to garner favor; they know it won’t work yet they are all so desperate. It would be sickening if this wasn’t what she built these hundreds of years.
She rings a small bell to summon her chamber maid.
“Be a dear and fetch me the that red gown by Cece. Tonight, I feel like flaunting my wealth.”
“Yes, Lady Mirra.” Lady Louis Mirra of Island Del Sun is the name she’s used for the last 63 years.
Greta spends the next few minutes browsing her jewelry, trying to pick out something appropriate for tonight’s audience with the deputy governor.
The maid reappears with the designer red gown as requested. It’s the latest fashion. The designer Cece, hand stitched this one herself. She’d not picked up a sewing needle in decades, but Greta made her sew this one as a reminder of her station. Wearing away at someone’s self-worth is best done gradually, you don’t want your victim to realize what is going on until they’ve already lost the will to resist.
Greta stands with her arms out, her maid, Jessie quickly undresses her and helps her into the gown.
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“Thank you Jessie, now could you choose a pair of shoes for me to wear tonight? “
“Yes Lady Mirra. Will there be dancing?”
“Free’er no. I’ll mingle for an hour at most before taking a seat for the remainder of the evening.”
Jessie turns away and busies herself evaluating the hundreds of shoes on their suitability for tonight’s occasion. Finding a pair made of inch-wide straps and covered in tiny diamonds, with a moderate heal, she presents them to her mistress for approval.
“Those are nice, well done,” Greta compliments her maid. By treating her personal staff with respect, curtesy, and showing trust in their judgement while they know how viciously she savages everyone else, garners an amazing amount of loyalty. Greta knows they fear her, but they also understand that they are not her prey.
Greta takes a seat to allow Jessie to slip the shoes on her feet. Standing up and looking at herself in a mirror she comes to a decision on jewelry.
“Jessie, send for my steward, then come back here and help me with my hair.”
When the maid returns, she has Samiel, the steward who is the head of the servants in tow behind her.
“Steward Samiel is here upon your request,” announces the maid.
“How may I be of assistance today, madam?”
“When was the last time I wore the royal set publicly?”
“The Royal Jewels of the Hoto’tep Empire were last worn by you fourteen years ago when the previous Governor retired.”
“I think it’s been long enough, could you fetch them from the vault please?”
“Right away madam,” Steward Samiel briskly takes his leave to execute his task.
Jessie finishes combing and pining up Greta’s long and curly black hair and then steps back to take the royal set of jewels from the returning steward.
The maid carefully layers the royal set of jewels on her mistress. First goes the necklace, made of gold plates, strung together by rings on the top corners. Each plate is adorned with dozens of sapphires and diamonds. Next are the earrings, each a smaller version of the plates that made up the necklace. A pair of gold wire bracers are clasped to each forearm, each junction where the wires cross have alternating diamonds and sapphires to match the rest. Last to go on is the crown, it’s more like a tierra, it’s constructed like the bracers of gold wire and inlaid with the same stones, except for a single diamond in the center the size of an eyeball.
Greta finishes getting ready for the dinner with the assistance of her staff and heads downstairs to the exit nearest the kennels. The dinner officially began an hour ago, having allowed her prey some time to feel at ease. It’s time to put an end to that mercy.
Her carriage is waiting for her, ready as always. She prefers the old-fashioned means of transportation and has a luxurious carriage with the latest in springs, shock-absorbers, and rubber tires, which may sound modern except it’s still pulled by four powerful draft inu. Two would be enough, but four tells anyone in the way that they can and will be trampled without the carriage slowing down at all.
With assistance from the driver, she climbs into the comfortable interior. Taking her seat facing forward she pulls the privacy curtains closed before tugging the signal rope telling the driver she is ready to depart.
The four massive inu pulled as one and gently advanced the carriage at a comfortable pace. If she cared to look, the city of El’Hat was as immaculately clean as ever. It’s still an hour before sunset, but the tall buildings have already blocked out the sun. Electric lights illuminate the road and sidewalks. The traffic is evenly mixed between self-propelled and inu driven carriages. The electric carriages have been all the rage these last two hundred years. Owning them shows you can’t afford the expense of a kennel and is seen as middle class.
They exit the downtown area where only the truly rich can afford to live and head towards an expressway. She can already feel the inu starting to chaff at being held back, soon they will be allowed to run. Once they reach the ramp leading to the expressway the driver gives a quiet audible command, signally to the inu they can run. The driver expertly keeps the brake engaged just enough to smooth out the acceleration and keep the carriage’s occupant comfortable. They reach a top speed of a little over 40 miles per hour before settling in at 35 for the next 14 miles where they exit the expressway. Another 10 minutes and they arrive at the deputy governor’s estate.