It was a late morning on the Locusta estate, Ilya stood outside with a scowl watching as the two Carriages set to bring Snow to port were finally being fitted with everything his mistress would need, the ship would be already pre-booked by the time she’d arrive at port, a store of medicinal tea was packed, about 3 month’s worth. But still it was with a strange feeling that crept down his spine that he ran over his mental checklist, a temperament that had only grown fouler the closer Snow came to her egress.

It made sense why she wanted to leave, ‘the military presence in the city has grown tense and suffocating in the past few months, that and the seizure of her shops, the visit from the secret police’ Ilya had come around to it, what kept him on edge wasn’t that Snow was leaving, but how now there was a black armoured stagecoach seemingly stalking their estate, a middlingly sized thing only intimidating by what it represented, it sagged against a building a few miles away from the estate.

He’d gotten a few of the blacksmith boys he knew to walk past the coach when he’d gone into town last, but they’d gotten turned away as soon as one of the soldiers spotted them, he sniffed now, trying to distract himself. Taking in the sweet morning air, the rude smell of tobacco from the waiting cabbies made him snort and cough.

Back inside the entrance, he surveyed the other servants carrying large suitcases of luggage through the atrium, Snow he bitterly recalled wouldn’t be taking anyone with her on the journey. And he was just supposed to go out and about somewhere, ‘a holiday’ his frown slipped into a wry grin ’I don’t think I’d even know what do with myself’ Snow had already sent a missive to her parents so he’d not be able to go and work there, no matter how much they adored him.

And a generous allowance of fifty Vennam, which even if he was the house steward was a massive sum, close to how much he’d make in three years.

“All the loading is finished sir” one of the men helping load up the carriages said, standing stiffly in the entrance.

He led him outside again, and as he went to do the final checks on the luggage, he spied the armoured carriage moving it’s way from the Matiste estate through the lockwood’s grounds, undulating like a strange beetle as it passed by the moss laden berm that led onto the neighbourhood's tramway, pushing its way in front of an oncoming tram, it stopped, causing a the few returning night’s revellers to disembark in a huff of genteel rage.

‘a military outpost in the middle of a sequestered wealthy neighbourhood.’ It was frankly ridiculous. Ilya wondered what the other aristocratic families thought, ‘especially the Matiste estate, oh I’m sure he’s properly enthused having those crouched next to his vacation home’ Ilya mused, his attention distracted by the raised canes and parasols fluttering about the disembarking soldiers.

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“Is it all correct sir?” the cabbie said nervously from up on high, “I’d not have anything misplaced, if that’s what’s on your mind.”

The stink of tobacco still hadn’t faded from him, and Ilya gave him a sharp look, mentally going over the number of trunks once again.

“That’s good, the port officials know how many trunks to expect” he said, he curiously checked him, a small fellow wrinkled and mousy, with a white-grey beard stained yellow at the tips, his eyes spoke to a good natured if rough sort of man.

“Here, what’s your name man” Ilya said, pulling out a Vennam coin, he split it, pulling apart the segments into the five Vim that made up one coin. He gave two pieces to the cabbie.

“Orandal sir, thank you sir” the man said, taking the Vim expeditiously.

“Tell me what types of folks I mean, who the Mistress boards with. Orandal, and you’ll get the rest of this along with your payment when you get back” Ilya said, pinching the last few coin pieces between his fingers in demonstration.

“Yes sir, definitely sir” the cabbie nodded, clapping his hands together and making several slow bows, his eyes glancing towards the house’s entrance, he tipped his cap to Ilya and then disembarked to greet Snow.

She looked fantastic, blond curls pressed tightly into a black and white newsboy cap with a gold buckle around the trim, she sported white gloves, a small pale blue and gold purse and a reserved travelling dress in the same pale blue that sat close to her skin under a black linen duster. She’d even worn shoes, white leather buttoned boots with a heel, the buttons trailing up the side of the boot in an arc and fading into black silk stockings.

Snow caught Ilya looking at the shoes, and smiled, handing a large messenger she’d been sporting on her lap to the cabbie.

“I thought I might as well go all out, wouldn’t want to be caught without shoes at court” she sat up a little, and bent down to look at them herself, “I really should get some more, they can really bring an outfit together.”

“Yes, they look quite nice on you,” Ilya agreed.

“A lady should have a wide variety of shoes you know” Snow said, as if quoting someone, her face scrunched up, a poor approximation of wrinkles. “The head mistress at the cobbler told me that”

“The cobblers? You don’t wear your shoes enough for them to need repair” Ilya said curiously

“Not for repair a resizing Ilya, my feet have apparently shrunk” she nodded at Ilya’s raised eyebrows

“Small feet are all the rage” Ilya said lightly, he’d made a move to open the carriage door and beckoned for the cabbie to take away the wheelchair.

“Oh sure, I’ll be very popular with the ladies, they’ll wonder how I managed to pull it off,” Snow said, holding onto Ilya as he lifted her into the carriage. “I’m sure whatever I say will have them cooing over me like a wounded dove”

“And you’re not going to enjoy that?” Ilya tittered, pulling the wheelchair away from the door so he could close it.

“No, I hope it goes unnoticed.” Snow said dryly “and it’d take away from my argument with the king” Snow collected herself, seating herself more comfortably in the carriage. “Anyway don’t you worry about me Ilya, you should focus on your holiday. we’ll have plenty to do once I’m back, many people to meet, orders to make”

“Good luck with your journey then mistress” Ilya said bowing to her from the doorway.

“And you too Ilya” Snow replied waving at him as he closed the door

He watched as it left, feeling rather sullen. As Snow's carriage got further away his eyes turned to the black armoured carriage. its form slowly wavering as it faded behind a copse of trees, the tram sitting silently where it was stopped, a few canes and umbrellas resting neatly against the tram’s front.