Unfortunately (or fortunately) Arx's favorite baker Lottie is not in town. But that doesn't mean her place isn't OPEN FOR BUSINESS with tons of scrumptious delights to tickle just about anyone's fancy.

Duarte is moving slowly down the catering table, selecting at least one of every offering and making Harlen carry it all on a plate for him. "OOooooh...2 of these, actually!"

It seems unreasonable for Mabelle not to attend a cake fest. She comes in from the outside, draped in what only seems like a painting of Artshall on fabric, "You know, this is the first place in the city I learned how to reach from every corner I was in".

Medeia is staring at the cheesecakes. "Is that one full of coffee? Yes? I'll try it." Her assistant is fixing up a plate that is not nearly so laden as Duarte's but still full of delicious things. She glances over at the count, then gestures toward the table for her assistant, signaling she's done selecting things for now. She's on her way to sit when she spots Mabelle. "Hello! Not a bad a choice of place to know how to get to. How are you?"

Duarte knows that voice! He looks up and over at Mabelle walking in and waves, "Lottie was one of my first almost-proteges! I fell in love with her baking. And, she had a very irrepressible personality. Very unlike the crash I will be having tonight after I eat about ten of these things."

Mabelle wanders over to the sweets table and unlike her infamousity, collects two small morsels and moves to the table to settle with her plate, "She invented a sweet for Artshall, the crumpets. And she made my first birthday cake and the cookie baskets I gave out to all the guests", she grins fondly as she speaks of the baker. As for Medeia's question, Mabelle admits, "Bored now that I have no one's assassination to plan".

Medeia gives a wistful sigh to Mabelle's response. "Assassination planning truly is the highlight of a day, no? Mm, I suppose you'll just need to select a new target. Might I provide you with a list?" The lady's brows lift, and it would be hard for people who don't know her well to see the glint of humor in her eyes and hear the hyperbole in her tone of voice. Her lips curl into a wider smile as she leans in to look at one of Mabelle's bracelets. "What is /that/?" It's the pantherium that has her attention. She nudges Duarte. "Have you ever seen anything like that?"

"Ah yes..." Duarte says solemnly on the subject of assassination... "You should give her your list, love," he tells Medeia directly. Then he is nudged, "oof!" And directed to look somewhere on Mabelle's body. Her..arm? What. He doesn't see any - oh! "Gods it's gorgeous...And probably very expensive." He slides eyes to Medeia. The look that lets her know he can't afford such a thing for her. (But maybe for himself)

Mabelle confesses, "I used to have my own list, but killing the common annoyances at the tavern does not seem enough of a challenge. A drop here in their drink, a shadow stabbing them in the dark, hardly the effort requiring planning", she casually speaks as she pushes her fork into her morsel, eyeing Medeia aside with a wink and a smile. "Are you just noticing it? I've been wearing it for over a year. Maybe two. Its Pantherium. It was left outside my door by a cat. Isn't it lovely? I've not taken it off since". Did it cross her mind it might be cursed? Yes. Did she mind? No. Its so pretty. "Evaristo designed it, but Ripley did the work". She looks amused between the pair, "I do not mind its price, more the fact that I simply cannot get my hands on one. I thought your eyes will go here, actually", she taps her brooch right in the center.

"Admittedly, you have so many dazzling features and adornments, I seem to notice something new every time Insee you," Medeia replies to Mabelle. She looks at Duarte and rolls her eyes. "I'll give her my list after I add you to it, hm?" She's not serious about that at all. There is no list. (There might be a list.)

"I prefer a midnight smothering myself..." Duarte inputs, as his assassination of choice. "Hello, wake up. Here's a pillow for your face!" He laughs. Poor souls. And he's not typically given to gawking at a lady's chest, but Mabelle has directed it and it would be rude /not/ to. So, compliantly, he settles his eyes on her brooch and oooohs very audibly. "That is a very lovely ornament indeed! And it complements you quite well, Mabelle!"

Alphonse, a long-suffering assistant, Maggie, an energetic Mistward Labrador arrive, following Adalyn.

With a laugh passing her lips, Medeia shakes her head gently at Duarte's choice. "I'll keep that in mind, darling." Then, she too looks at the brooch. She blinks once, twice. "Is that...?" Her eyes lift from the jewelry to Mabelle's eyes, curious, but she doesn't finish her question. She studies the other woman, nods, takes a bite of her coffee cheesecake thing.

Mabelle quirks her lips, "I made a whole industry with me being on top of fashion, you realize I need to live up to my reputation, so wearing something new every time became some sort of a mark. Or tradition", she winks to Medeia and looks amused at Duarte as he cooperates with her. Her eyes meets Medeia's eyes, looking amused, "Platinum? Yes. Black Pearls? Yes. Smokeweave? Yes. The weep crystal? Yes".

Duarte certainly adores the brooch. It is just so pretty, and mysterious. "Platinum..." he hmms. "How did you smuggle it in through the platinum ban?" He asks, finally peeling his eyes away from the jewelry to look at where Mabelle's eyes are.

"Just like Lady Madeia! She always has a new and thoroughly expensive gown just about every time I look at her!" So you can assume that Duarte doesn't buy any of those.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Duarte before departing.

"It really is such a lovely object to /focus/ on," Medeia says of the brooch, giving Mabelle a lift of her brows and a smile. "Congratulations." For what? She doesn't elaborate. She /does/ look at Duarte, annoyed. "I /told/ you that doesn't count for the metal! It's the /Metallic/!" Her frustration comes woth a beleaguered sigh. "He never listens to me," she whines to no one in particular.

Adalyn comes into lotties looking around, dressed in her armor her green eyes fall on Mediea and Maebelle and smile. She starts in their direction. "I heard rumors of a sweets party and I could use some browning myself in such things."

Mabelle continues to devour her cake, all innocently looking at Duarte, "Platinum ban? What is that?", she bats her eyelashes, "I pay someone to do something, they do it. I do not ask where and why", which is really true to everything she asks for, including that which is in her brooch, "Unrelated, but thank you. I've had it for several years now", she winks to her, "I just never placed it." She listens to the explanation and chuckles, "Actually, Platinum is considered contraband. I think I traded these ones with Mirari, when honey diamonds were a new thing and she really wanted some". "Baroness Clement", she then spots Adalyn at the door, still getting used to the title, "Hello!".

"See...." Duarte tells Medeia with a nod. He grins to Mabelle, "I really should find a jeweler to make me some fine things. All I have are these." He holds up a hand and waggles his three ringed fingers. The new comer gets a look and a smile, "Oh I am sure there are plenty of those around her! Help yourself. House Amadeo is paying for the whole spread." But not Medeia's outfit pieces.

Medeia leans back in her seat and sets her fork down. "It's not /illegal/, that's just silly, we use it for currency." She flicks an annoyed glance in Duarte's direction. Then she looks toward the door and gives Adalyn an inviting smile. "Baroness. Hello, help yourself to as much as the count will pay for."

Alphonse, a long-suffering assistant have been dismissed.

Maggie, an energetic Mistward Labrador have been dismissed.

Mabelle toys with her cake, "I mean, if it were me, I'd eat the whole table and then order three crates full on his expanse and then send it to the children of the lowers", she winks to Medeia, "Roughly the price of a honeysilk gown. What are we celebrating anyway?"

"Impending doom!" Duarte answers straight away. "For who would like to live through the Seckonding without having made sure to delight upon Lottie's treats a final time?" He stuffs a cookie in his mouth. "Not I!" he says, spraying crumbs.

Medeia reaches a hand over to place under Duarte's chin, exerting slight pressure to encourage him to keep his mouth closed when chewing. She smiles at Mabelle. "Perhaps we should. Order sweets for the children. Count Amadeo has a point about delighting in life's pleasures before the end, and he does have a soft spot for orphans."

Mabelle admits, "The Bees send out sweets to the Lower every day, but not a lot, I don't want them to consume only that. But its the little joy of life", she sighs. It is the joy of life. "You should visit the Honey Havens", she tells Duarte.

Duarte chews in silence. His eyes shift from Mabelle, to Medeia, and back. He gulps and swallows. Now it's free to talk. He even shows Medeia there's nothing left in his mouth. "I do. It's true. You have your assassinations list, and I have my list of pleasures to experience before the end." He nods. Priorities. "A...honey haven?"

Medeia's hand drops from under Duarte's chin to skim over his upper arm before she withdraws it fully back into her own personal space. When he shows her his mouth, she smiles. It's wide and toothy, a little fond laughter spilling from it. She turns her head to look down at her plate. Only a bite or two has been had from each thing. She busies herself at least finishing off the cheesecake while Mabelle explains.

Mabelle explains to Duarte, "The Honey Havens are new orphanages to help displaced children from the wars in Arvum. I've built a few in our lands and around the Oathlands, many in the city helped. It has excellent medical attention to the children as well as extensive curriculum in all topics to make sure they grow up to be productive in the society once they are grown and do not let the circumstances of their life influence their future", its alright Medeia, Mabelle can talk about her charity projects all day long.

"Oh!" Duarte exclaims with a grin. "OH! Honey Havens. I get it. Bees. Laurent!" He chuckles. "Very clever a name and what genuinely needed and charitable endeavor. Gild be praised. What moved you to care for the poor tots so?" He wonders.

"Was there a lack of good medical care for them, before?" Medeia doesn't really know how things are done in the Oathlands. "What a lovely and caring thing to do." She look curious for the answer to Duarte's question.

Duarte checks dexterity and legerdemain at normal. Duarte marginally fails.

Duarte stealthily pinches Medeia... But not stealthily enough.

Medeia squeaks! She also is suddenly sitting very upright and turning pink.

Mabelle straightens her back as she is forced to recall what led her to that work. Ah. Not all is sweet as honey. She clears her throat and settles her plate, "Well, there was a woman, family, who was like the ultimate nanny. She used to teach all the noble children of the family and she had a chain of orphanages under her name", she collects a glass of whiskey her girl cleverly delivered for that moment, sips from it, "Lady Isanel Laurent. Well that was until I learned she was feeding the children to Azazel". She shifts her eyes, feeding? What does that mean, "She seems to have disappeared that week, no one knows how", she smiles, as if she knows why, "So I took over the orphanages and gave them a .. makeover and then built some more".

Duarte blechs and contorts his face in disgust. He looks in vain for whiskey and helps himself to reaching over and taking Mabelle's (if it hasn't been deftly maneuvered /away/ from grabby hand). "What a...how truly wretched...I swear everyday something new about this piece of unfettered filth..." He's lost his appetite. "And so? How did you dispatch of Isanel?"

Medeia listens, appropriately horrified for the reason behind the work. "Oh." She glances to Duarte, places a hand over one of his in an attempt to provide some small comfort. Then she stands, go and collects two more glasses of whiskey - one for each Duarte and Mabelle - to set on the table. There's an apologetic look from her toward Mabelle. And a similar look to her unfinished plate. With a sigh, she bends in close to press a kiss to the counts cheek. "I'll be at home. See you in the morning." To Mabelle, she offers a promise to talk soon before heading out the door.

Mabelle looks left and right, "I'm sorry, I did not mean to dampen the mood", she looks between the two.