[Is it somewhat satisfying to watch Constantin go in on this fool? Yes. Yes, it is, because while Felix is prepared to verbally rip Archimedes to shreds over the course of the next, oh, ten or so minutes, Constantin more than deserves the honor.
And really, Felix's strength lies in bluntly pointing out idiocy in the here and now; using the Priestess' opinion as leverage doesn't even occur to him at this particular point in time, but Constantin wields it as a surprisingly effective weapon—and Felix enjoys watching the color drain from this coward's face. Aha. It doesn't matter how poorly Archimedes was prepared for his position, or what good he thought he was bringing into the world by stealing from the rich for the supposed sake of the poor; running away from the sticky situation of his own making—risking another's life in place of his own—shows his true character. Disgusting.
So as Constantin catches his eye before continuing right along—hmm. He holds that gaze for a moment, ignoring Archimedes' babbling in the background—something about how his plan is safe, how all contingencies have been (impossibly) accounted for—as he frowns. The ideal plan would involve a single Archimedes prancing about the party? The real Archimedes, ensuring that whatever attack comes is directed at the person so desperate to avoid it. The real danger would be minimal, should Felix remain by his side—which he would, because while Felix dislikes the man, Felix doesn't want to see him dead. The duchy is unstable enough as it is.
But Constantin looks... serious about this. He clearly has his wits about him; this isn't, like, some silly attempt to prove himself, and yet that doesn't make Felix feel any... better about it? His allies's willingness to put themselves in the line of fire has always been a point of contention, and this is no different—and yet it is, in the sense that Felix remembers the talk they'd had not so very long ago. A tipsy—on his part, anyway—discussion of life and what it means. Constantin's life is...
Constantin's life is his, and thus this call is his to make. It's always about choice, even if something about this tastes bitter.]
There should be one. You, [he snaps, shooting Archimedes a Look in case that wasn't perfectly clear. But after the briefest of pauses, grudgingly:] ...But two would split the assassin's attention. Make them easier to spot.
[Theoretically, anyway. Felix already knows he'd need to call in his still unnamed mercenary band, just to have extra eyes he trusts, but it's... doable. Aggravating, yet doable.
And so the next hour is spent hammering out the dirty details, with Constantin, the resident diplomat, stepping in whenever things get too heated. The rules are simple: Felix and Constantin will oversee the set-up of the party itself, familiarizing themselves with every nook and cranny of the ballroom. Archimedes will make his way back to his manor the eve of the party, acting as though nothing at all is amiss, and before the party begins, Constantin will take on his unfortunate visage to serve as a decoy. Felix's mercenaries will be split between them, and Felix himself will focus on spotting the assassin before—well. Before things get out of hand.
It is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan Felix has ever worked with. He knows it. He suspects that Archimedes, despite his bluster, knows it, as well, and so he makes a point to remind the man of Constantin's earlier point. If he doesn't show up to his own party, Felix and Constantin will leave him to report back to the Priestess. They will. It's a promise.
But the deal is struck! Felix and Constantin are back atop their horses with little ceremony, and if Felix settles for grunts and hums on the ride back to the duke's manor... ah, well. He's processing things, in his own way. Resisting the urge to snap at Constantin for being so willing to risk his life for such an idiot, because even he knows it wouldn't be productive now that things are... settled.
...No, no. There's little point to talking until they're back in the duke's study, waiting for his assistant to show them to their rooms when they're finally prepared. At least he left them a tea platter on the duke's desk? Thoughtful. Not that Felix gives it more than a quick glance; he waits for the assistant to finish telling Constantin something or other, waiting only for the door to click behind the man before he shifts his attention back to Constantin.]
Two dukes?
[There is a displeased edge to his voice as he once again studies Constantin, because really, sir. Really. You had to suggest this. You're 100% down for this.]
no subject
And really, Felix's strength lies in bluntly pointing out idiocy in the here and now; using the Priestess' opinion as leverage doesn't even occur to him at this particular point in time, but Constantin wields it as a surprisingly effective weapon—and Felix enjoys watching the color drain from this coward's face. Aha. It doesn't matter how poorly Archimedes was prepared for his position, or what good he thought he was bringing into the world by stealing from the rich for the supposed sake of the poor; running away from the sticky situation of his own making—risking another's life in place of his own—shows his true character. Disgusting.
So as Constantin catches his eye before continuing right along—hmm. He holds that gaze for a moment, ignoring Archimedes' babbling in the background—something about how his plan is safe, how all contingencies have been (impossibly) accounted for—as he frowns. The ideal plan would involve a single Archimedes prancing about the party? The real Archimedes, ensuring that whatever attack comes is directed at the person so desperate to avoid it. The real danger would be minimal, should Felix remain by his side—which he would, because while Felix dislikes the man, Felix doesn't want to see him dead. The duchy is unstable enough as it is.
But Constantin looks... serious about this. He clearly has his wits about him; this isn't, like, some silly attempt to prove himself, and yet that doesn't make Felix feel any... better about it? His allies's willingness to put themselves in the line of fire has always been a point of contention, and this is no different—and yet it is, in the sense that Felix remembers the talk they'd had not so very long ago. A tipsy—on his part, anyway—discussion of life and what it means. Constantin's life is...
Constantin's life is his, and thus this call is his to make. It's always about choice, even if something about this tastes bitter.]
There should be one. You, [he snaps, shooting Archimedes a Look in case that wasn't perfectly clear. But after the briefest of pauses, grudgingly:] ...But two would split the assassin's attention. Make them easier to spot.
[Theoretically, anyway. Felix already knows he'd need to call in his still unnamed mercenary band, just to have extra eyes he trusts, but it's... doable. Aggravating, yet doable.
And so the next hour is spent hammering out the dirty details, with Constantin, the resident diplomat, stepping in whenever things get too heated. The rules are simple: Felix and Constantin will oversee the set-up of the party itself, familiarizing themselves with every nook and cranny of the ballroom. Archimedes will make his way back to his manor the eve of the party, acting as though nothing at all is amiss, and before the party begins, Constantin will take on his unfortunate visage to serve as a decoy. Felix's mercenaries will be split between them, and Felix himself will focus on spotting the assassin before—well. Before things get out of hand.
It is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan Felix has ever worked with. He knows it. He suspects that Archimedes, despite his bluster, knows it, as well, and so he makes a point to remind the man of Constantin's earlier point. If he doesn't show up to his own party, Felix and Constantin will leave him to report back to the Priestess. They will. It's a promise.
But the deal is struck! Felix and Constantin are back atop their horses with little ceremony, and if Felix settles for grunts and hums on the ride back to the duke's manor... ah, well. He's processing things, in his own way. Resisting the urge to snap at Constantin for being so willing to risk his life for such an idiot, because even he knows it wouldn't be productive now that things are... settled.
...No, no. There's little point to talking until they're back in the duke's study, waiting for his assistant to show them to their rooms when they're finally prepared. At least he left them a tea platter on the duke's desk? Thoughtful. Not that Felix gives it more than a quick glance; he waits for the assistant to finish telling Constantin something or other, waiting only for the door to click behind the man before he shifts his attention back to Constantin.]
Two dukes?
[There is a displeased edge to his voice as he once again studies Constantin, because really, sir. Really. You had to suggest this. You're 100% down for this.]