Two hours ago…

   The bright lights were reflected in the crystals dangling from the gilded chandeliers, like small sparks of fire trapped in faceted rainbows. The string quartet filled the air with the strains of a waltz from some hidden corner. An elegant frame, clad in impeccably styled black evening clothes, leaned against the balcony that ran the length of the ballroom. A glass of champagne dangled from one slim hand encased in a black glove, a prominent signet ring displayed on their finger. Their eyes roved over the masses beneath them.
   Below, the decadent throng threw themselves into the revelry. Couples swirled round the dance floor with careless indulgence. On the sidelines, groups of extravagantly dressed men and women clustered together, indulging in business or gossip while liveried servants wound their way in and out holding silver trays aloft. To the naive, it was a scene of refined indulgence. The upper crust elegantly at play.
   The reality beneath the surface, however, was much darker. 
Their eyes narrowed as they raised their glass and emptied it. A sharp glance shot through the crowd, singling out their targets. The heavy gaze paused five times, and its weight had its subjects looking up and meeting those dark eyes. A simple gesture conveyed their instructions. These fools knew what was required. 
   Straightening, they turned away from the music and lights without a backwards glance and headed down the hallway that led to the retiring rooms. They nodded to the servant stationed outside the chosen venue for tonight’s meeting and handed them the now-empty glass, making sure they noted the signet ring as they entered. Their prearranged security measures for this evening would be put in place without a word. Only those invited would be allowed entry.
   They settled comfortably onto the plush velvet settee, legs crossed with a black clad arm draped across the back. Soon, their guests began to arrive.
   One by one, the four men passed through the gilded doorway a few minutes apart to avoid suspicion. By unspoken agreement, they took up their positions silently, either sitting in the chairs arranged opposite the sofa or leaning against the wall, waiting for their host to begin. 
   At first glance, the feigned nonchalance in their postures would make it easy to assume that they were just an average group of noblemen gathered to further their acquaintance. Shortly, the door opened once more and four sharp gazes focused briefly on a footman, who entered and delivered fresh refreshments before exiting and leaving the room still cloaked in the oppressive silence. 
   As soon as they heard the definitive sound of the door clicking closed behind the servant, Viscount Torrington was the first to finally break the extended silence. “Well, what brings us the honor of this private chat?” Seated to the right, the man raised his glass to his lips with a practiced nonchalance, but the wariness in his eyes and slight tremor in his voice belied his false calm. 
   The black clad figure on the settee focused their attention on him, but remained silent, merely regarding him with a single raised eyebrow and slightly curved lips. The other men also fixed their gazes on him, though their eyes were much more calculating.
   Considered quite attractive in his youth, the Viscount took great care with his appearance. However, years of dissipation had turned his once fair complexion sallow, and the light green hair and ice blue eyes that had once been described as ethereal only lent a washed-out quality to his once refined features. 
   “Are we here to boast about our progress? I sent my quarterly reports weeks ago, and they showed better than expected results, if I do say so myself.” The man continued, his tone blustering while he hid the slight trembling in his hands. He leaned back in his chair, as if to emphasize that he had nothing further to say.
   The curved lips of the figure in black deepened into a smirk as they uncrossed their legs, shifting forward, and swirled the wine in the glass cradled in their slim fingers, exuding a lethal grace. “You wish to boast about your better than expected results, Viscount?” The wry sarcasm in the soft tenor voice flowed like silk over steel. 
   “Distribution has increased significantly in recent months, and all the exchanges have run smoothly. I would say that it has exceeded at least my expectations.” The lighter tone he attempted to inject in an attempt to ease the atmosphere in the room did not work. Instead, the other occupants of the room tensed further, sharpening their gazes. 
   “Your expectations, Viscount? I’m sure those are quite easy to surpass.” That voice hung in the air again, its tone cutting. “As for my expectations, however…” The drawn out pause had a cold sweat breaking out along the Viscount’s spine. “I believe that I had given you a very clear goal to achieve the last time our little band met, didn’t I, my Lord?” 
   Viscount Torrington had spent years navigating the dangerous waters that filled the underbelly of polite society. He knew its dangers well. The exaggerated nonchalance of the statement set off a warning in the Viscount’s mind. He carefully modulated the tone of his response. “I would never dream of shirking any task granted me by our esteemed leader. I have made consistent progress towards bringing the lamb into our fold. I anticipate success any day.” His eyes remained fixed on the pale face with its delicate, almost pretty features, attempting to hide the unease that was wracking him. 
   There was no way that damned woman could survive without the drugs that only he possessed. Even if she was satiating the craving by scrounging some from acquaintances right now, she would have to come crawling to him soon, so he wasn’t lying to the man. She would be in their clutches any day now. Once she was under his control, she would find out the price for ignoring him… 
   Even as his mind filled with the pleasing images of the Baroness at his mercy, his eyes remained focused on the figure across from him. He was too experienced to allow his gaze to drift away from the predator lounging in front of them.
   In response, they let out a small hum that didn’t quite express confidence as that eyebrow quirked upward once more. The silence stretched taught again. 
   Just as the Viscount, feeling the strain under that questioning gaze, had opened his mouth again, driven by his nerves, that frightening attention switched to the man sitting in the chair to the left. “I hope that you won’t attempt to claim success, will you, Sir?” 
   The heavyset man sitting in the armchair openly wiped the sweat from his forehead with a lace-edged handkerchief, as irritation settled onto his face. From the deep lines on his face, it seemed that the emotion graced his features frequently.“The state of the Capital Guards is beyond dismal. I cannot believe that thieves are free to roam the streets in broad daylight!” The man’s jowls wobbled with his signature temper. “I had private guards surrounding the carriage, and we gave chase, but the damn rat scurried down an alley and disappeared. I ordered the guards to search, but neither hide nor hair of them turned up!” By the end of his rant, small flecks of spit were spraying from the man’s rubbery lips in his agitation. 
   Noticing the continued silence of the others in the room, especially the figure seated across from him, he took a deep breath and attempted to calm down. He had encountered a setback, but it was not completely dire. “The incompetence of the Guards aside, this is just a small setback.” Those dark eyes continued to hold him in their steady gaze. Feeling the pressure mounting even higher, he rushed onward. There was still room to turn this around. “While we wait for another formula, we’ll just move forward in setting up the production of the other components. This won’t delay us much.” His voice took on a placating tone as he attempted to downplay the importance of this debacle. He carefully avoided mentioning that he had run into the Prime Minister and the interest that damned nosy brat seemed to take in the affair. Those damn incompetent guards…
   “A small delay? But hasn’t that genius niece of yours disappeared into the wilds of the Capital? Your family couldn’t even keep its golden goose in its cage. Where do you propose to get another formula for vulcanized rubber?” The comments were sharper this time, cutting through his bluster and bravado. Those dark eyes had narrowed as well, showing their obvious irritation.
   “She’s just a damned little girl. How could she survive out there on her own? She’ll be back before long. The family has already put out the word so that no reputable workshop will hire her.” He dismissed the concerns with a wave of his hand. How could the great Tallow family not be able to replace one little girl? His brother was just exaggerating her importance. His nephew had long since far surpassed her talents. “And I can’t believe that she is all that special. Just look at Cedric! He already has so many patents registered to his name. If a girl like her could come up with it, then any of the more competent Alchemists in our family should be able to recreate it…” An icy chill started to seep into his consciousness, and his words trailed off. The black clad figure across from him hadn’t moved, but their disdain for him seemed to be etched in every line. 
   “Well, either way, it will be only a small delay. As I said.” He cleared his throat and finished clumsily, then settled back in his chair, choosing the wisdom of silence.
   “So, gentlemen, it would seem that we are beset by ‘small delays’.” The emphasis on ‘delays’ was not subtle. The dark eyes flitted from face to face, pausing longer on Sir Tallow and Torrington. “I don’t believe I need to reiterate to you how I feel about delays?” The chill was evident, and sent small shudders down their spines.
   Silence once again reigned in the room. The two standing, having realized that they were not going to be called out this time, had relaxed and were now observing with a detached air, while the two sitting were trying to maintain their composure. After letting the tension stretch for a few moments, their leader spoke again, the silk no longer covering the blade in their words. “Our plans are vast and intertwined. A small delay in one causes a tear in the web we are weaving, gentlemen. Tears in the web are vulnerabilities. The authorities are constantly breathing down our necks, just a few steps behind us.” They paused for a moment to take a sip of their wine, then continued. 
   “Do not mistake the Prime Minister’s youthful appearance for lack of ability. He is just as capable as his father. Possibly even more so, since his father didn’t have his current handicaps. So far, the only advantage we have been able to exploit has been the rift that appears to have sprung up between him and the Crown Prince. If that ever resolves itself, or if the Crown Prince ever chooses to take up his responsibilities in earnest…” As they spoke, the hostility slowly leeched out of their voice. Now they were speaking mechanically, as if they were purely listing facts. “ Then those small tears you are putting in place with your ‘small delays’ will be used to weave a noose to hang us.” The men swallowed hard at those last words, said in such a dispassionate tone devoid of emotion.
   “I have no intention of hanging for your incompetence.” They leaned back to recline against the settee once more. After another protracted pause, they continued. “I will choose to trust you one last time. Eliminate your ‘small delays’, gentlemen. Do not force me to act instead.” With those words of clear dismissal, the others rose and bowed. As they began to file out, the leader held one gaze for a few moments, then tapped the finger that bore the signet ring on the wine glass in their hand and glanced meaningfully at Viscount Torrington’s back. 

Some time later that evening…

    Warm light still gilded the edge of the opulent crowd that filled the ballroom. The black clad figure was leaning on the railing again,  observing the festivities while half hidden in the shade of a pillar. Those dark eyes skated over the crowd at random, never settling in one place for too long. They just happened to catch a servant delivering a note to the Viscount. A few minutes later, they masked the satisfied smile on their lips with a sip of champagne as a pale green head of hair slipped out of the ballroom and headed into the gardens.