After her brother's outburst, Noebella's nostrils flared at her brother's words, before she held up her head high and stared him down. "Let me remind you now, brother of a little fact," Noebella hissed back as she tossed the letter at Philippe. "You forget the favor of the bloodline that is owed to all Verninac descendants."
Philippe drastically pales at his older sister's swords as Noebella smiles grimly in satisfaction. "It would appear that you do remember, after all, Philippe," Noebella icily said. "That letter is an official request for that favor to be used on behalf of her grandchildren. And we will host this ball, frre."
Rising to her feet, Noebella glares down at her younger brother. "I would suggest that you reply to this very evening, Philippe. There is much to prepare and coordinate with the Prince's until that time. And good evening," before whirling away with her skirts billowing around her. Her husband, Victor quickly excuses himself to his brother-in-law, and his wife, before strolling after the furious figure of his wife.
Philippe hatefully glares at the letter in his lap and barely stops himself from crumpling it into a ball and tossing it into the flames to be burned to a crisp. Patting his knee, Louise cautiously stares at her husband and says, "Philippe, why such a reaction? This is a good thing is it not?"
Philippe's lips curl with a bit of a snarl as most of his anger drains at his wife's words. "It is not that I do not wish to host the ball, Louise, but I have never liked Reginald Prince the least bit. I remember the height of Grindelwald even if I was a child, and I remember the fear and terrible bloodshed that was at that time. And I truly do not wish to see the family dragged into any dispute all because of Reginald Prince."
"Then we shall take the utmost care to not do so," Louise firmly answered. "We shall make it abundantly clear that the hosting of the ball is a singular favor owed to the deceased Sirsa, and nothing more. And as for the rest of your worries, we shall discuss more in private with the Prince's. They will surely relent as they wish for us to host the ball, and therefore give us the upper hand in any negotiations."
"That is true," Philippe mused that much more relaxed after his wife's words. Feeling much better, Philipp and his wife rise, and retreat to the study to compose a reply to the Prince's letter. All the while, Fidel happily swings on top of the chandelier and waits for a reply.
Sometime after Philippe returns with a sealed letter that is enchanted to be protected from the elements. Letting out a mighty cry, Fidel flutters onto the dining table causing his claws on his feet to scratch into the wood. Philippe winces at he terrible newly made scratches, while Fidel smugly causes another one as if to innocently say, "Whoops."
"Blasted bird," Philippe murmured under his breath earning himself a piercing shriek from the peac.o.c.k. Glowering, he roughly ties the letter to Fidel's leg, while Fidel inadvertently scratches him back leaving a deep gash on Philippe's hand. Philippe grits his teeth at the sting of the deep cut and glares darkly at the large bird.
Fidel lets out a cry and turns around slapping Philippe firmly with the back of his tail. Philippe has a red violent mark on his face as Fidel smugly uses the dining table to lift off and flutter away leaving deep gashes in his wake. Cursing at the mangy bird, Philippe stomps away to his personal quarters. He'd like to have some peace and quiet after this truly awful evening.
Quickly the evening turned unto nighttime, and the night to daytime. Letting out a loud yawn, Georgine arose that morning as she had a luncheon with the Potter's and needed to get ready. That and she was waiting for the Verninac's reply to her letter.
A smirk appears on her face as Georgine guesses the reply. Without a doubt, Philippe Verninac would try to decline their request, but Noebella would surely intervene on their behalf. That and combined with the favor owed to Sirsa, it would be more than enough to force the Verninac's hand. That being said, she was also aware that the Verninac's would hold the upper hand on negotiations, but that was well worth the price to ensure the safety of the children.
A popping sound next to Georgine causes her to glance over to see Dawn carrying a silver palter filled with steaming hot tea, and brunch. "Thank you, Dawn," Georgine murmured as she gladly accepted the warm tea in the cool morning air.
"Dawn is happy to serve," Dawn happily murmured, before popping away to begin preparing breakfast for the master. Master was a bit of a picky eater at times, and so Dawn must be careful in tricking the Master to eat. Oh yeas, Dawn was very clever, clever.
Enjoying her tea, Georgine is patiently studying the brightening horizon, when she sees a blot in the distance slowly get larger. Eagerly, she puts her cup down and waves at the exhausted peac.o.c.k. With wings drooping from exhaustion, Fidel weakly flaps over towards the Mistress.
Falling to the ground, Fidel almost collapses, before weakly landing in a slump. Rushing over, Georgine carefully checks her familiar for any wounds. Fidel let's out a feeble cry as if to say, "Mistress, next time get the bloody house elves to deliver the letter!"
"There, there," Georgine coos to her familiar which she had personally raised from an egg. "You did such a handsome job, Fidel. Now show me the letter."
Fidel weakly holds out his leg for Georgine to untie the letter from his leg. Patting Fidel's head, Georgine takes the letter, before rising to her feet to read the letter over brunch. However, not before she calls out, "Tadbey!"
"Yes?" Tadbey grumbled glaring at the witch as he pushed his glasses up the tip of his nose.
"Please take care of Fidel, and give him the best of everything," Georgine instructed as she took a seat on the patio.
Tadbey grumbles under his breath as he walks over to the usually arrogant peac.o.c.ks, before popping away with the peac.o.c.k. Tadbey appears in a large room in the stable filled with soft cushions, a carpet, and toys for Fidel to play with. But most importantly a tub, and an exceptionally large mirror for Fidel to admire himself in.
Carefully setting the large peac.o.c.k onto one of the cushions, Tadbey apparated away to the kitchen, where his wife is preparing breakfast for the Master. "Hubby done?" Dawn asked as she prepared the meal.
"No, I just came in to prepare a meal for Fidel," Tadbey replied as he gave his wife a kiss on the cheek. "He just returned now."
"Ah, Miss Georgine was worried," Dawn murmured. "It is good that Fidel has returned. Did Fidel return with a letter?"
"Yes, he did," Tadbey replied as he walked over to his son's playpen.
Ladley was already awake and mixing a bowl of what looked like a pancake mix with his magic. He wasn't doing a very good job of it has he had made a bit of a mess. But it was normal for young house elves to practice using their magic in this manner.
Ladley grins up proudly at his father flashing baby teeth, and says, "Prepwing Bwekfast!"
"I can tell," Tadbey murmured as he planted a kiss on his son's head, before heading over to the cold-pantry to prepare a meal for it a king. Tragically, Peac.o.c.k's are omnivores that meant that grains, fruits, vegetables, and even meats were consumed by the large bird. And naturally, the annoying peac.o.c.k would take advantage of the situation as long as it could. It was going to be a very long day for Tadbey.