The thing women have yet to learn is nobody gives you power.
Lunch was the one time of day she had to herself, relatively speaking.
Maria had her table, her cup of tea, her bowl of soup and plate of salad, without fail, Monday through Friday at the Blue Owl. There were no files, no pieces of parchment, or inane secretaries who couldn't keep their informed mouths shut.
It was her way of being out in public, so to say.
She wasn't surprised when she saw Tracey Davis-Goyle making her way out of the restaurant after picking at her food, and not eating it all, but she was surprised when the young woman stopped beside Maria's table.
"Minister? Please excuse me for interrupting your lunch. I just realized you were here, and wanted to give my greetings before leaving," Tracey said softly, green eyes taking in the older woman. The slightly pursed lips and incrementally drawn in eyebrows that meant she was displeased did not come onto Maria's face, and Tracey knew she had not made a misstep.
"Thank you, Mrs Davis-Goyle. I would have been disappointed otherwise," Maria replied, wondering if Tracey really was that unobservant, or if she was playing some game. She didn't mind, even encouraged, the young women in the Liberi to participate in these games, as long as they recognized she was the mistress, the authority. As long as they did not seek to undermine her, they could play to their manipulative hearts' content.
"I'm sure you're very busy orchestrating vendors for the event next weekend, but would you care to join me if you have a moment," Maria said. It wasn't a question, but wasn't quite a command.
"Of course, Minister," Tracey said, seating herself across from Maria. The waiter immediately brought her another cup of tea, made the way she liked it. Tracey took it gratefully, sipping the hot beverage before placing it down on the saucer. She allowed herself a small smile of triumph when her hand didn't shake.
"Oh, to be young and live on tea and determination again," Maria commented, watching Tracey carefully. "I do hope you aren't working yourself too hard, my dear."
"No, of course not. I enjoy the work, and the challenge. It keeps me busy," Tracey replied, wincing a bit as her left temple throbbed. She didn't have any head ache relief potion on her, and there was no discreet way to take it in front of the Minster. Damn.
"Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes, quite fine. Just a bit of a head ache. It will go away, I'm sure," Tracey replied quickly, rearranging her features into the semblance of British stoicism.
Good girl, Maria thought. She checked her time piece, and decided she could push her meeting with the Head of Magical Games and Sports back a little bit. Nathan Byrne was a pompous ass, still mentally stuck in his glory days as a beater for the Pride of Portree, even though those days were nigh on twenty years past.
"I do hope I'm not keeping you from something important, Minister," Tracey said.
"I was trying to find a polite way to inquire after your handbag. I have a certain... fondness for them," Maria said, what could pass for a smile forming on her lips.
"It's a Red Fern," Tracey replied, one side of her mouth curving up. Tracey had a weakness for frivolously fashionable bags, having more in her closet than she could ever practically use. "A newer name, on High Street, but they do not cater to Mud- muggles, unlike Hermès and Christian Louboutin."
"Really?" The sound was drawn out, almost a purr. "You simply must tell me more."
[SUMMARY: Tracey runs into Maria at the Blue Owl. The discuss the upcoming Census event and handbags.]
Maria had her table, her cup of tea, her bowl of soup and plate of salad, without fail, Monday through Friday at the Blue Owl. There were no files, no pieces of parchment, or inane secretaries who couldn't keep their informed mouths shut.
It was her way of being out in public, so to say.
She wasn't surprised when she saw Tracey Davis-Goyle making her way out of the restaurant after picking at her food, and not eating it all, but she was surprised when the young woman stopped beside Maria's table.
"Minister? Please excuse me for interrupting your lunch. I just realized you were here, and wanted to give my greetings before leaving," Tracey said softly, green eyes taking in the older woman. The slightly pursed lips and incrementally drawn in eyebrows that meant she was displeased did not come onto Maria's face, and Tracey knew she had not made a misstep.
"Thank you, Mrs Davis-Goyle. I would have been disappointed otherwise," Maria replied, wondering if Tracey really was that unobservant, or if she was playing some game. She didn't mind, even encouraged, the young women in the Liberi to participate in these games, as long as they recognized she was the mistress, the authority. As long as they did not seek to undermine her, they could play to their manipulative hearts' content.
"I'm sure you're very busy orchestrating vendors for the event next weekend, but would you care to join me if you have a moment," Maria said. It wasn't a question, but wasn't quite a command.
"Of course, Minister," Tracey said, seating herself across from Maria. The waiter immediately brought her another cup of tea, made the way she liked it. Tracey took it gratefully, sipping the hot beverage before placing it down on the saucer. She allowed herself a small smile of triumph when her hand didn't shake.
"Oh, to be young and live on tea and determination again," Maria commented, watching Tracey carefully. "I do hope you aren't working yourself too hard, my dear."
"No, of course not. I enjoy the work, and the challenge. It keeps me busy," Tracey replied, wincing a bit as her left temple throbbed. She didn't have any head ache relief potion on her, and there was no discreet way to take it in front of the Minster. Damn.
"Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes, quite fine. Just a bit of a head ache. It will go away, I'm sure," Tracey replied quickly, rearranging her features into the semblance of British stoicism.
Good girl, Maria thought. She checked her time piece, and decided she could push her meeting with the Head of Magical Games and Sports back a little bit. Nathan Byrne was a pompous ass, still mentally stuck in his glory days as a beater for the Pride of Portree, even though those days were nigh on twenty years past.
"I do hope I'm not keeping you from something important, Minister," Tracey said.
"I was trying to find a polite way to inquire after your handbag. I have a certain... fondness for them," Maria said, what could pass for a smile forming on her lips.
"It's a Red Fern," Tracey replied, one side of her mouth curving up. Tracey had a weakness for frivolously fashionable bags, having more in her closet than she could ever practically use. "A newer name, on High Street, but they do not cater to Mud- muggles, unlike Hermès and Christian Louboutin."
"Really?" The sound was drawn out, almost a purr. "You simply must tell me more."
[SUMMARY: Tracey runs into Maria at the Blue Owl. The discuss the upcoming Census event and handbags.]