Adair Estate
Obulette

Occurring...
One week after: 1 | 2 | 3
One and a half weeks after: 1




To return to Obulette, to be closer to the Core itself, was to return to true civilisation. A handful of days in the dank, traditional shadows of the Empire's main temple was sufficient for his purposes at present, for he had other matters to attend to; the invitation that would bring to him a certain Corellian had been sent within a day of his arrival on Munto Codru, and it would be remiss of him to not be present. No, there was much to be done, both where Blaire Sal-Soren was concerned, and his obligations as the to-be High Lord of his house. In fact, that was where the brunette was key: insuring his bloodline and ensuring its continuation was a paramount task, that in turn went a long way in making firm his noble position and tying the high seat of House Mecetti to his name. Oh, though she was a beauty, Blaire's value was not just in giving him an heir. There were other, more attractive and far-reaching boons that came with the match.

That was, of course, assuming the woman was amenable.

The day after his return to the Mecetti throneworld, Lord Lucianus Adair had awoken in the morning to the perpetual twilight that blanketed Obulette, and wasted little time preparing for the day, breaking his fast, and meeting with his advisors and other high-ranking lords and ladies. His guest wasn't expected until late afternoon, which gave plenty of time to conduct and wind up the day's business in preparation for her arrival. A low-key dinner was planned for the evening, and a breadth of hours from then on to address the ultimate purpose of her visit. The ensuing days of her stay held a tentative lack of structure outside of his duties, allowing for any outcome. There was certainty in Adair's mind that they would be able to come to an agreement, for however the link may benefit him and his house, it could be a much greater prize for her and hers.

At the designated hour as her ship came in to land at the estate's private pad, Lucianus stood waiting with two attendants, ready to receive her, a light, cordial smile only just warming his features. He could have sent someone for her, but this was her first visit and at this stage, his presence was of import. He was dressed in a fitted and refined casual manner, and the sword that had been affixed to his side for the past week and a half was absent, put away under the guard of a harrowing mental trap upon a secured door. Not that any who managed to bypass that and lay a hand on the weapon stood a chance of remaining sane afterwards, whether the trap took them or the spirit of the blade did.

It remained to be seen whether that part of his life would be revealed to Blaire, or not.