Arc 716, 30th Trial of Ashan
Quincy tried not to get irritated.
The celebration to honor the Andaris was a long way off but there was still so much to do. He stood in the center of the gala, an arsenal of servants at his disposal to help with the preparations. The baron had insisted on the party. He seemed to think the Andaris name was in need of being paraded about, remind the rest of the noble families where the real power lie.
So the task had fallen to the second born.
If he had it his way, he would be face down in a barrel of wine, drinking his way to the bottom. But he knew that if he didn’t please the Baron, that his access to his boozes would be quickly cut off and him kicked to the curb. So dragging himself out of bed and nursing a hangover, Quincy Andaris held an open journal in hand, staring at its contents and transferring receipts from the scraps of paper he was given to the ledger.
So we finally got our shipment of the Sparking White in. Something about bad weather delaying the ship, load of crap. Gillian is just pissed I worked him down from his absurdly high price. Trying to get payback. Whatever, I'll deal with him later. FOCUS.
At fifty bottles, ten gold nel per bottle that’s...240 gold nel….geez that’s still pricey. Oh well. We need it for the welcoming toast. We can cut costs by buying less of the Nanutha and Kuwasa, I think. Okay, so if each bottle holds six glasses of wine, that will allow for…240 servings. Cheaper than paying by the glass at any rate. It cuts the costs by half. So roughly 200 guests if we want to play it safe. Alright. Ugh.
Quincy lifted his head, feeling his neck ache from hunching over the ledger. He tried rubbing the pain out of it. He hated this part of the job, it made his head swim. Looking up from the book, receipts laid out neatly on the table in front of him, he scanned to make sure everything was moving along.
Servants milled about the gala, boxes and trays of items being carried every which way. It seemed chaotic to an outsider’s eye but there was structure to the madness. Quincy spotted one of the servants he placed in charge of arranging the chairs and tables. Raising one hand and snapping impatiently, he summoned the man over.
The servant noticed the Andaris looking at him, an expression of annoyance on his face and hurried over.
“Yes, Lord Quincy?”
Quincy eyed him evenly.
“You seem uncertain. You do know your job, correct?”
The servant shifted uncomfortably.
“Y-yes m’lord. It’s just that we don’t have as many chairs as we originally thought. We counted two hundred and fifty but we are only able to locate two hundred and eleven.”
Quincy stared at him, huffing exasperatedly.
“Do I have to do everything
around here? Did you even talk to Rafael? He has a storage shed in the back where he keeps the overflow.”
The servant flushed red.
“I-no. I didn’t want to both-“
“But you deemed it necessary to interrupt me instead?”
“But Lord Quincy, you called for-“
He stopped mid sentence as he caught the black look on the Andaris’ face. The servant hastily corrected himself.
“I mean, forgive me m’lord. I was not thinking.”
Quincy nodded and with a flick of his hand dismissed him. The man hurried off as quickly as he could before he was spoken to again. Quincy shook his head annoyed.
It’s hard to get good help around here…