Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say (Azalea)

It had been a week. A very long week.

The Clement heir had left the room of Mimosa's only once in that time. To sit with Azalea as the doctor's explained fully the diagnosis of the Clement ward. Jacques may have been present for all of the work that had been done to the young witch, but the discussions between the doctors had been too fast and too technical for him to fully grasp what had been going on in the room. All he'd known was that he had to be there.

In case the worst happened.

It had been a long wait, the man only managing to get short bursts of fitful sleep either in a sat position or curled up on the sofa away from Mimosa's bed. The latter was only when his body screamed for respite from the constantly sat position. Or when he was asked to sit back as they operated on the small frame of the teenager. The explanation for the end goal would blur as the man waited with baited breath for the results. First, the skin grafts had been done because they were less invasive. The success of that procedure would have to wait to be seen, he'd been told, with the grafts needing time to be accepted by her body.

It was the next day that the first of the more intrusive surgeries began to stabilise Mimosa's organs in to their own functioning capacity. When the first had finished, Jacques had not been given an indication of whether it had been successful. It was a waiting game. That night, Jacques had not slept as he kept his eyes upon the young witch for any sign of deterioration.

None seemed to come, though.

Another procedure followed the first, and then another.

The doctors kept quiet about their views on it all.

Until a week in to his vigil at Mimosa's side. As the doctors did their usual checks, their discussion came to the positive outcome that they had been hoping for. Mimosa's lungs had responded positively to their work, and their tests with the reduction in use of the machine's keeping them working had decided they'd come to eighty percent capacity in the last few days. But, not only had her lungs started to function without so much aid, her heart was strengthening, too. To about the same level as her lungs. It was a good sign, Jacques had been told, but not something that should be banked on as conclusive. Mimosa was responding, but she was not yet in safe waters.

What they needed was Mimosa to come around. So that they could do tests to see if her mental capacity had been affected by the short time she'd been... even now, Jacques struggled to name that moment, and as gently as the doctors had said it, it made him flinch as if he'd been physically hurt. That, though, would not be something they would be doing yet. Mimosa would be kept unconscious for the near future.

The news though, that Mimosa was... getting better, no matter how slowly had eased Jacques' worry. If only slightly. It had taken a few times for him to comprehend the situation was getting better.

"You know that staying here isn't healthy."

Jacques had looked up to his father with a small nod to show he knew that, and even though he did know that, he couldn't bring himself to leave. The Lord Clement moved further in to the room, taking in his granddaughter led peacefully in the bed.

"Why not take today off? I will stay with Mimosa, so she won't be alone."

Jacques' eyes moved to Mimosa in that moment, the indecision clear on his features at the opportunity to see outside the four walls that he'd contained himself in the last week, or stay with Mimosa as he had promised he would.

"I would rather stay with her, until she wakes up."

"It's not going to be today." Louis gently replied, the gentle reassurance that he wouldn't be doing anything wrong if he took a moment for himself. The hesitation had been enough to allow the Lord Clement to move around, motioning his son from his seat. "Just for a few hours, you will feel much better."

Jacques had vacated his own seat and his father had taken it up in the next moment to ensure no second thought could be taken. The Lord Clement had already greeted Mimosa and started to relay the witch's favourite story softly. Jacques had turned towards the door, not sure what he was going to do with the time, but knowing he didn't have a choice now.

"Please have a shave, too. Your Maman would not approve."

The words were followed by a soft laugh, though from which of the Clement's lips is had been would be left to a passer-by to decide.

***

It was more than an hour later that Jacques had emerged from his own rooms, freshly showered, shaved and in clean clothes for the first time in way too long. The Frenchman had not known what to do for a moment, before he caught one of the staff. The question of where Miss Harrington was had sent the man towards the guest wing. Finding the Auror with his children, and no Azalea, Jacques had been kindly pointed in the direction of the gardens by the man. She was searching for signal, something you wouldn't find in the Palace grounds unless you trekked to the outskirts. With a thank you to the man -- and a short conversation with the children who were very excitedly telling him about what they had done so far, Jacques had... perhaps not helpfully by the Auror's face, let slip that there were horses that could be ridden if they wanted. The youngest had been the most excited, and Jacques had sent the three of them off with a member of staff.

From there, his feet had moved towards the grounds. It took directions from two of the gardeners who had seen the witch before he grew closer to the witch who was looking at her phone as she wandered.

"You know it's quite useless?" Jacques commented, trying not to make Azalea jump as he came closer. "If you want signal at the Palace, you're out of luck. Maman and Papa are... anti-technology." The amused look on his features would show what he thought of that, though Jacques would never say that out loud, of course.

"Jake said you didn't want to use the Floo." Jacques continued, showing he had tried to find her elsewhere. "I can take you out of the Palace if you would like? I've been told to leave Mimosa's side for today, she's doing fine, better than fine, actually. Her lungs and heart are working on their own. Not to full capacity, but it is progress." The news was given belatedly by the Clement heir, forgetting that perhaps the news had not been fully distributed to all those who would need to know yet.

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~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

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The week that followed had brought good news somewhat trickling in to Jake and Azalea. Despite how welcome they were made to feel at the palace, it was also very clear to the couple that they were not allowed the same privileges as the family was. For example, Jacques Clement could spend every passing hour with their daughter but they couldn't so much as see her through a window. For another, though Lord Clement always made himself available and hospital, they had yet to see the Lady fo the House even once. A thoughtless question from Azalea towards one of the servants had made her realize she was out of line when the servant had merely responded that the Lady Clement would make herself available when she could. Despite the footman's politeness, Azalea had felt chastised like a small child who had asked a question she was not supposed to.

All in all, the couple was merely left to wait as news leaked through after Mimosa's first, second and then third surgery. The response after the first had been that there was no change, the second stated that she had not worsened from it and the third had rolled in like a breath of fresh air. Their daughter could now nearly breathe on her own and the young witch's heart had started pumping blood naturally. Azalea would have cried with joy if Adrienne wasn't nearby, demanding someone's attention as she showed off the cool things she had found in the palace aquariums.

Any concerns Jake and Azalea had of explaining to the children why they were here were made redundant by how much the children were enjoying their stay. Adrienne had found a whole host of adventurous activities to keep her busy and Ivan had discovered the extensive Clement archives. Every day, the boy requested to be left there instead of out with Adrienne and while most days his request was rebuffed with an order to stick together, sometimes Jake and Azalea split up with the witch taking Ivan and the Auror galloping off with Adrienne.

While Ivan made a beeline for the family history section, Azalea found Chrysler wondering through the vast collection of scrolls on the flora and fauna of the palace lands. Apparently the past generations of groundskeepers had painstakingly made sure to maintain not just the natural atmosphere of the topiary but also the magical ambiance, leading the place they were staying at to be one of the rarest plantation sites in Europe. Having already spoken to teh Greenhouse staff previously for her project, Azalea knew the amount of pride they took in their work. The books didn't contradict that.

With the relief that came at Mimosa's slow but sure recovery, the witch could finally give time and attention to other worries that plagued her. Lord Clement's words about Joshua claiming conservatorship over her still made the witch sick. She had told Jake and he had tried to restrain his anger but in the end, they both knew they couldn't do anything. The news of her promotion at work had been met in almost the same fashion, albeit more positively. While he had congratulated her and assured her she deserved it, once again they both knew it was out of their hands.

At least while they remained at this palace, their lives were not theirs to decide.

So the brunette had taken a firm decision in a show of autonomy and self sufficiency, and decided to call her best friend. The only problem: there were no signals in any part of the palace that she could find. The witch had even tried the pool house, standing atop a diving board and holding up her phone, but nothing. Jake had told her she could use the floo network but in a fit of stubbornness, Azalea had refused. She wanted to talk to Victoria and she wanted to do it on her phone.

"Maybe try the outdoors then?" the Auror had suggested, perhaps understanding her need to get just one thing done her way in a place where everything was out of control. Giving him a kiss, she had agreed, leaving the guest suite with him and the kids planning on the evenings activities.

Walking out to the gardens made her feel a little better, clenching the knot of stress and worry inside her. But the witch knew it was only a result of being out in nature, a natural response from her body and the few vines that resided within. It didn't mean any of her problems had actually gone away.

"You know it's quite useless?"

The witch looked up from her phone, brown hair fluttering softly around her face as she took in Jacques Clement. Perhaps her panicked face told him her fear before she had to because he followed it up with assuring her Mimosa was alright and that he had been kicked out for his own good. As her heartbeat returned to normal, Jacques explained that he could take her somewhere she could actually make use of the device in her hands.

"That would be fantastic," the witch admitted gratefully reaching over to give him a hug. The young wizard smelled of aftershave and subtle cologne, he had clearly taken a bath.

"After you," the Frenchman smiled, leading her towards what the witch assumed was a garage. As they walked, Azalea asked after him, questioning his own surgeries, as haphazardly as they had been conducted by Mimosa's bedside. Jacques didn't seem very keen to talk about the procedures, waving them of as unimportant. Azalea knew better though. Being someone who was used to putting others needs before her own, the brunette knew a kindred spirit when she saw one.

"Did... your dad tell you about Joshua..?" she asked tentatively as they entered the massive garage lined with what Azalea could only describe as several race tracks worth of cars and bikes.

"Artemis, the Pegani please," Jacques spoke to a man who had materialized from nowhere but now seemed a little stuck. When the servant didn't reply, Jacques merely raised an eyebrow. "Today, please."

It was the first time Azalea had seen the man being even close to curt towards anyone, but she understood. This man didn't embody the same spirit of the staff she had gotten used to. The words did the trick, as softly as they were spoken and soon enough, there was a car rolling in their way.

Holding open the passer door for her, the young man helped her in before walking around to the driver's side. the two left the garage slowly, taking the winding path that leed out towards the palace gates.

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Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say (Azalea) Rsz_gr10

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"That would be fantastic,"

The hug that followed was a welcome one, a week without any real human contact had left the man more that a little bit drained. Wrapping both arms around the witch, he was more than grateful not to have any bad feelings between the two of them after everything that had happened in the last week. A small squeeze, and the duo parted again. Motioning for the witch to follow him back towards the house, the two of them fell in to stride together.

A brief catch up of his own health, which Jacques played off as being nothing to worry about as he didn't wish to concern the witch with the details of his own surgeries, Jacques had asked if the she, Jake and the children were okay. The answer came with the amused recounting of Adrienne's reactions to the Palace which brought a fond smile to Jacques lips as she spoke. The comment of Jake not realising how good the food was at the Palace brought a soft laugh from the Frenchman's lips as they arrived at the garages.

Calling for the Pegani, Jacques had turned his attention back to Azalea, about to answer her question of his knowledge of Josh's antics when he realised Artemis had not moved to complete the instructions he'd given. Correcting the manager's lapse in functionality with a short sentence, the Frenchman had turned back to the question he'd been asked.

"I would have to admit that I haven't been given any information about what else has been going on around the Palace." The Clement heir admitted gently as the Pegani arrived. Helping the witch in to the car, Jacques hurried around to the other side and sank gently in to seat beside her. The man pulled it out of the garage carefully, his right arm still feeling a little heavy after all of the surgeries it had been subjected to, and even the light steering of the vehicle was making the muscle complain ever so slightly.

"What has Joshua done now?" Jacques asked, his tone already conveying that whatever it was that the Welshman was trying to do, he was not going to get away with it if he could help it. "I assume if Papa knows, he's already working to resolve it?" It was a question, but Jacques was quietly sure his father would not have been sat by idly.

The man would listen to the explanation as they exited the gates of the Palace, and headed out in to the heart of Paris. "I would ask how he managed that, but I don't need to." It was an understatement. Joshua Murray had more than enough power to do what he had, but he wouldn't have enough to stop the Clements from undoing it. "How do you feel about it all? I'm sure it can't have been easy to take that knowledge on board, especially... I can't believe that bâtard kept you away from your family for ten years!" The man couldn't help it, if he'd come face to face with Joshua Murray, he would have torn him limb from limb for what he'd done to Mimosa, but now he knew what he had done to Azalea, to his sister, Jacques would have loved to head back to Murray Manor in that moment to do just that.

It wouldn't solve anything, though.

Instead, as Azalea replied to the question, Jacques navigated through the streets of Paris until he came to one of the cafes he usually brought Mimosa to. Finding a parking space at the side of the road, the man carefully parked before the establishment before shutting off the engine. "Do you mind if we get something... normal to eat, I can't remember the last time I ate something." With Azalea's agreement, the man got out of the car, moving around to get the door for Azalea before showing her to one of the tables outside the cafe.

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~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

"I would have to admit that I haven't been given any information about what else has been going on around the Palace."

As they exited the garage, their vehicle slowly picking up speed, Azalea told him everything. Except for telling Jake in hushed whispers as the kids slept next door, the witch hadn't spoken about it to anyone and doing so now made her realize how much she needed to. While talking to Jacques, she didn't have to worry about sparing anyone's feelings, she could say it all as she liked, in the way that brought her catharsis. She told him of her abduction after Mimosa was born, she detailed how the child had been rescued but Azalea had been held back by the monster she had recognized far too late. She even told him, painfully and resiliently, about Ethan and how the child had been taken from her by his father upon birth. As she spoke, the witch couldn't fathom Joshua's childhood preoccupation with her but she couldn't deny it either. He had gone to such lengths to secure her affection and her presence....

"The thing that still haunts me..." she admitted as they left the palace far behind. "Is what he said before we managed to escape. He said... He said everyone had given up on me, except him. That no one would bother to look for me, that I..." The witch trailed off, leaving the implication clear. How Joshua had known that her worse nightmare during her early years had been being unwanted, unneeded, wasn't clear. But he must have understood her to some extent to realize...

The brunette shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "Of course that doesn't justify what he did, he's a...he's a monster," she managed, trying not to shudder at the memory of him telling Ethan that his mother had chosen someone else.

"Do you think... we'll be able to free Ethan from his hold?" The question was a wishful one. No matter how powerful the Clements were, she doubted they could separate the Murray heir from his son.

Eventually they stopped at the cafe he had mentioned, parking the car before heading out. A small ding from her phone alerted her to the fact that she had finally found a signal. the young potion mistress had smiled ruefully at his insistence of eating something normal, wondering how her assertion of Jake's assessment of the palace food had gone over with him. The grass is always greener, she assumed as she took a seat, arranging her navy skirt carefully over her knees so that only the ends of her white heels peeked out underneath.

A small vibration on his phone followed suit, then another, and another.

"Kiranjeet?" she asked unintrusively as the waiter walked over to take their order. Being the gentleman that he was, Jacques ordered in English so as not to exclude her. When it come to her turn, Azalea merely asked for a black coffee, uninterested in food at the moment. "She must be worried sick."

Jacques nodded, but didn't reach for his phone just yet, still contemplating her. There would be time to go off and make phone calls later.

"I've been meaning to ask... and I mean this in the bets way possible, but is your mo- I mean, is the Lady Clement alright with us overstaying our welcome at your home?" she approached the topic quietly, leaving him lots of exits should he choose to take them. "I understand we must be a great imposition, and if I were in her place, I probably wouldn't be half as gracious as she has been. But..." but the fact that Azalea had never seen the woman even once did say something.

What that was however, her son would have to clarify.

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Jacques had taken on the full story as gracefully as anyone could when faced with such a diabolical story. The man listened quietly, only speaking up to show he was listening, or else asking a small question when the story skipped slightly and he was unsure of the link. But as it all unfolded, Jacques could only feel sympathy for the witch. No one deserved to go through even one of the ordeals Azalea had been through, let alone all of the ones she'd been through.

It was as she admitted that Joshua's final words still haunted her that the man spoke up again. "I know this isn't truly for me to say, but I'm sure that no one truly gave up on you. Your dad, Clara, even Jake... they were all hoping you were okay. I know they didn't... do what Joshua did, but quite honestly, I don't think anyone in their right mind would have gone to those lengths." Jacques tried to console, though he had never been in such a situation, reaching out for the witch's hand across the centre console of the car, the man gently squeezed her hand to try to reassure. "They all love you very much, so don't let what Joshua said upset you, he was trying to keep his hold on you."

"Do you think... we'll be able to free Ethan from his hold?"

The man let out a soft sigh at that, because he didn't know the answer. The best thing for the young Murray heir would be to be taken from his father's custody, but the likelihood of that coming in to fruition. "We'd need to find a judge willing to rule against Joshua Murray, and have a strong enough case -- which I think we do, don't misunderstand me -- to persuade them to take custody from him. Whilst I think all judges would agree that he is unfit... I don't know how many would be brave enough to do it when it came to the time. But we can try."

As they moved to the table by the cafe, both their phones started to announce the multitude of messages they had both missed in the last week. A steady stream of pings, or vibrations were a testament to their own popularity. Where Azalea reached for her phone, Jacques ignored his own in favour of reaching for the menu.

"Kiranjeet?"

"Probably," the Frenchman replied, still clearly not catching up enough with the situation to comprehend that he had not let his girlfriend know for the past week what was happening, where he was, or why he was not talking with her.

"She must be worried sick."

The nod came as the Frenchman looked back to Azalea. The situation still hadn't fully sunk in yet, but it would, with a little time. Once it had, he would call Kiranjeet.

Ordering himself a simple baguette sandwich, the Clement heir returned his attention to Azalea.

The next question that came, though, was not one that he could answer so easily. The witch had phrased it very gently, with ample opportunity for him to shut down the line of questioning. He never did, though, instead trying to find out what Azalea might be trying to reach for with her question before he gave an answer. The question, though, did not come loaded, instead just a curious nature.

"Of course she's okay with it," Jacques replied easily, most likely a lie, but one that was necessary in that moment. "You haven't seen her?" He added, and the small reply to the affirmative made him continue. "I can't say I am surprised, you see Maman has a very... different way of dealing with problems." A fond smile touched his lips as he gently shook his head. "She believes in the old Gods -- that is to say, before the Catholic Church became the prominent faith in France, there were the Seven. Mostly the religion has been forgotten throughout Europe, but it was here once. Maman, and many ladies before her, have continued to pray to them. When anything... untoward happens within the family, Maman normally retreats to the Sept to pray until things are right again.

"It is not yours, Jake's, or the children's presence that is causing her to stay away. She will just be praying for Mimosa's health until she wakes up." Jacques explained, knowing that that much was true. It also made him make a note to head to the Sept before he returned to Mimosa to check on his Maman. Her husband's daughter being in the Palace could not be an easy sight.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. I can't imagine the stress you're feeling with Mimosa's condition, and we're all more than happy to host you until Mimosa is well again." Jacques assured her as the waiter arrived with their food and drinks.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like anything to eat? I can cut you some of my baguette if you would like?" The Clement heir offered, picking up his knife and waiting for a reply.

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~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

Azalea knew what was coming in regards to Ethan's custody. She may not know much of the world that Joshua and the Clements belonged to but she did understand the significance of sons. She doubted there was going to be a lawyer or judge who would side with her on the very real grounds that Joshua was unfit to parent. Still, Jacques framed it hopefully, and that made her heart slightly lighter.

At the lackluster response from the French heir about his girlfriend, Azalea wondered briefly if there was trouble in paradise. No, she decided in the ten seconds it took to contemplate the matter. Regardless of what tabloids liked to write about rich young men and their romantic misadventures, she knew first hand how much Jacques cared for the girl. It must just be the stress of the situation he was in, well that and the whole no signal in the palace thing.

Before she had asked of the Lady Clement's wishes in the matter of their stay a the palace, Azalea had reconsidered many times. After all, if they weren't saying anything, wasn't it just better to be grateful until you got kicked out. In the end, she had simply not wanted to take advantage of her friend and his family. Their hospitality was beyond appreciated but Azalea had never wanted to be a burden on anyone, regardless of how well said anyone could bear that burden.

"I can't say I am surprised, you see Maman has a very... different way of dealing with problems."

The American witch raised a curious eyebrow as he continued, relaying the Lady Clement's religious beliefs. Azalea had never heard of this faith but she wasn't surprised. Her European history was foggy at best. Though the idea of being locked away in some kind of church instead of being down with the rest of the family and helping didn't sit well with the brunette.

Though she supposed she herself wasn't doing much to help while on the ground with the humans. Perhaps Lady Clement would be more effective with the angels in the sky?

"Well, when you see her next, could you please tell her how grateful we are for her hospitality?" Azalea asked softly as their food arrived. "She must be an extraordinary woman to have raised such an exemplary family."

The witch left her coffee untouched as Jacques dug into his sandwich, for all the world looking like someone who had been deprived of food all day. Azalea couldn't help but smile. Probably misinterpreting the gesture, the man offered her some of his food.

"Okay then," she smiled, ignoring his lifted cutlery and swiping a finger at his sandwich. A moment later, the entire leaf of lettuce had freed itself of the baguette. "I'll take that," she announced, reaching for a napkin with her other hand to serve s a plate. Her fingers worked to shred the leaf into smaller pieces as they continued to talk.

"And you'll find out soon enough," she continued, having swallowed her first piece of vegetable. "Your dad is going to launch an inquiry into Headmaster Kessler's fitness for office." It didn't need saying that the inquiry would result in exactly what the Clements wanted it to.

"He actually suggested... Well, not suggested but he said he was going to recommend me for that position." The idea still seemed rather absurd to the witch and it came across in the tone she used to rely the news. "I mean, can you imagine? A non graduate, barely full professor getting the position. People might start to think the job's a joke."

Catching him looking at her, the brunette hurriedly amended her statement. "I mean, not that I'm complaining. It's a pleasure to be thought of as so capable...." She began, hoping to not have offended the son of the man who had offered her the greatest promotion of her life. "But it feels a little... empty when I don't believe myself capable of the title. I'm not even done with my masters yet, and you know people will raise question at my lack of qualifications."

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"Of course," Jacques replied to Azalea's request to send her thanks to his Maman when he saw her. When would be a very good question, the man thought to himself briefly before deciding to go up to the tower his Maman resided in before heading to Mimosa's side once more to ensure she was okay. "But, honestly, it's nothing. She would be more than happy to have you at the Palace with Mimosa." He insisted, not wishing for Azalea to feel like she was burdening them with her presence.

He did not need to comment on his Maman's greatness for the family she had raised, it spoke for itself.

Azalea's choice of food from his sandwich made the man raise an eyebrow at her in question. "That's all you want?" He asked, not used to the witch's diet consisting of just the vegetables. When they'd been in America, Azalea had eaten much more than just a salad with her best friend. He supposed, though, that the situation was much different now than it had been then. Azalea was probably struggling with many and more thoughts about her daughter at the Palace, and food was not a priority, so he didn't press on that subject.

The news that came next, though, made Jacques pause in his eating. Setting down the baguette to give Azalea his full attention, Jacques took note of his father's intentions to look in to how Mimosa had been taken from Hogwarts, and the fitness of the current Headmaster. It wasn't exactly a secret that the Headmaster had been sick for some time, so perhaps now they would have a better reason to remove the man from the position that he couldn't keep up with.

It was clear to see that in the moment that Azalea told him she would be the replacement that the Frenchman was on board with this plan. "Well congratul-" Jacques stopped himself though, as Azalea continued on with what other people would think if she was given the job. There was no doubt that Azalea would do a good job, but he could see her unease.

"You don't have to apologise." He assured her, contemplating for a moment. "Papa is probably just thinking of you, and not the wider picture. He knows you like the children at the school very much, so he's made a logical choice based on that, I would wager. But, if you don't feel like you're ready... kindly decline him." Jacques could see the uneasiness in Azalea's frame at the suggestion, and he couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "Papa isn't nearly as foreboding as people think him to be. If you set out these points to him, he would listen.

"Better still, offer a solution. Someone you think to be a better fit in the interim... Whilst you finish your Masters?" Jacques suggested, his attention turning back to his sandwich in the same moment. "Then, if you would like to take over the position, we can discuss it with Papa again then." He compromised before taking another bite from the baguette.

"But you shouldn't put yourself down." Jacques added after he'd swallowed the bite. "You're much more capable than you realise, and the kids at the school love you. You'd be a firm favourite there."

Another bite from the man's sandwich and he motioned to Azalea's phone. "Don't mind me, make your call."

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Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

Whatever fears Azalea had of offending the Frenchman opposite her were put to rest as he contemplated her doubts, and then suggested she counter The Lord Clement's proposal with one of her own.

"Papa isn't nearly as foreboding as people think him to be. If you set out these points to him, he would listen."

The brunette simply shook her head softly at that. Jacques clearly had a case up closeness bias, his father was not just one of the most powerful men in the world but also once almost regally accustomed to issuing commands even when he wasn't giving a direct order. The witch was certain she was not the only one who was terrified of misbehaving in his presence in any way.

"That is... not a bad idea," Azalea conceded, thoughtfully chewing her lettuce. It would certainly be a compromise which would work for both parties involved... and leave the door open for her to take over the job in the near future. Though as Jacques assured her that she was qualified for the job, the witch looked across the table at him seriously. He had proven more than once that he was her friend first before a Clement, and she felt comfortable enough telling him so.

"I don't... I would not like for people to say that I got the job through personal connections. I want to feel I truly deserve the promotion and I just... don't think I do at the moment." Having spent so much of her new life at the behest of others, Azalea was not willing to give up ehr newfound independence no matter how many good intention lined that path.

"I'll write him a letter in a day or two," she finally decided, reaching for the napkin to wipe her fingers. "If I get thrown in the dungeons, you're in charge of bringing me coffee," she joked, a small smile on her face. A bit overkill since no one these days actually had dungeons but if they did, the Palace of Versailles would be a prime candidate.

"Don't mind me, make your call."

"Oh," the witch looked down at her phone, almost having forgotten why she was here in the first place. "Okay, I'll give you some privacy to make yours too," she relied, taking up her phone and getting to her feet. Jacques didn't need to hear the whole story told again, he had lived it all.

The witch called up Victoria's contact on her phone immediately, not even reading all the whatsapp messages that were waiting from the young lawyer. The phone rang once, twice, thrice and then.

"Azalea!"

"Hi Vic," the older witch greeted, the relief clear in her voice as she walked towards the parked car. Unsurprisingly, a series of hurried questions followed her greetings and Azalea took a deep breath. There was a lot to tell.

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» And I Can Feel It, Coming In The Air Tonight (Victoria)
» Tu Hai Meri Azalea (Azalea)
» Dog Days [Azalea]
» Can I borrow your ear ( Azalea)
» The UHNI [Azalea/Kit/Mim/etc/etc]