This was highly irregular. Just what kind of man was this Richard Mackenzie? That was indeed the question. Having looked into any and all files that she could, Freya Lockhart, had tried for days to follow the life of the man she was to meet at any moment. This was no casual visit, though her attire did not conform to her usual business wear. This was something of personal interest. Starched cotton of velvety smooth burgundy composed her dress. Though the neckline was squared, a black high collared bolero jacket fastened over this with golden buttons as well as lining, her sleeves were long and form fitting, black lace peeked from her cuffs. If a woman could attain a waist alarmingly thin, this would be the example, which was presented quite clearly by the gold sash wrapped firmly into place. Within Freya’s mind, thoughts converged.

Certainly her first impression of this man was demeaning, as per usual, in fact there was little she found impressive, if anything at all. However, there was something that had motivated her. Something, that could very well be important, not only for herself, but for the Magisterium as well. Indeed, she would claim it had been out of duty, though that would only be half the story. She wanted answers. Behind her, Regulus padded his massive paws upon the marbled floor, with a regal air that his human was sorely lacking at present. Her heels clicked furiously, her intense eyes, usually exact and obscenely cold, were wide and distant, kept within the pitfalls of her thoughts. He owned a company. That had to mean something. However with her sources, she couldn’t seem to find any indication of unquestionable ability. Parties were no better, subtle questions regarding him were accepted strangely. If anything else, it was the sheer lack of solid evaluation, that Freya had thrown her pride to the wind long enough to arrange a meeting with this elusive man. At least, that would be her reasoning for disregarding the iron clad standard that Freya Lockehart did not ask for audience with anyone.

His history was clear cut. She could follow the files easily through his lifetime, which was likely what had first caught her attentions, it seemed too perfect. Or perhaps not. Whatever it was, there was something nagging about the entire ordeal, which had bid her to investigate personally, a rare sight to be certain. His entire appearance seemed, beguiling. Could it have been her own opinions upon the human race that stated this to be abnormal? If one was cordial, easily befriended it meant you had much to hide, at least in the world of Freya Lockehart that was much the case.

’This is no different than any other meeting. If that is indeed what you wish to call this.’ Regulus surveyed the building, and had counted every distasteful or unimpressive particle about the place since their arrival. Of course, he had kept that to himself. This was not to say that Freya was not aware of it, or that she did not agree. Like minds, or rather the same mind often found the same conclusion.

’I know! For god’s sake, I know!’ She was on edge, also unusual for the woman. How she loathed the situation, so fiercely did her spite rain upon the inconvenience this came to. She felt vulnerable, outside of her own realm, the office from which she ordered the business of hundreds. One after the other, subconscious feelings battered her from every side, embarrassment likely the most prominent. What dignity was there, at the mercy of another's discerning gaze? But they hadn’t many other options. Certainly she knew the gravity of the situation, the irregularity of her appointment wouldn’t go without notice. Of this she was terribly aware, and for this, so too was her daemon. Displeased, her brow arched, broodingly pressing over her eyes, forming an expression of sheer frustration. With her eyes panning over the various doors, one fact came to mind.

’We must tread lightly Regulus, god only knows what this man is...’ In agreement, Regulus nodded silently, watching his human’s rigidity with passive indifference. They were expected. Freya had arranged for the appointment, her secretary had called, and personnel were informed. In her own mind, it was apparent why any would accept her audience, not a single person with an ounce of thought in their heads didn’t know it. Coworkers were fond of passing on gossip, scented rumors that were appealing to the senses but deemed foolish in any other light. Freya Lockehart practically ran the Magisterium; at least that was what was whispered behind her back. She wouldn’t allow it to fester however; the position of a woman in the world was trivial enough. Hers was nothing short of walking upon a bed of needles.

’Calm your mind. Much rides upon this meeting.’ The first sound which had stirred between them, Regulus growled deep within his throat, having taken to walking beside his human, steely blue eyes looked to her containing subtle fire, the expression both had perfected throughout their lifetime. Meeting her daemon’s gaze, Freya caught her breath, inhaled slowly, and then exhaled. Closing her eyes, she pushed her concerns from her mind. Icy clarity answered by filling in the space where worries had once been. With her eyes opened again, the businesswoman had arrived. Dark eyes bore the challenging suggestion well, whilst her face had softened considerably, there was no mistaking her eyes. Slowing her pace as the door in question came into view, the corners of her lips curved.

’Pleasant as a cobra,’ Regulus mused, leaving no indication in his tone to suggest taunting, though it was indeed what the daemon had intended. Freya had to agree with him. Certainly even she herself had questioned why Regulus had not taken the form of a snake. Her role was likely more akin to that of the Serpent. Finding herself in such a train of thought, Freya sighed inwardly, the Magisterium was getting to her. Forcing steel into her bones, Freya composed herself, glancing over Regulus quickly, before turning the handle and entering into Mr. Richard Mackenzie’s office.

Upon stepping over the threshold, Remus surveyed and memorized their surroundings; he would ease the petty burdens of unfamiliarity, by mapping out all that could be seen.

'If you bought him out, remodeled entirely, perhaps then you would be accustomed to it?' He wasn’t trying to be funny, though certainly someone would have taken it as a joke. Freya was not that someone. She merely gazed forward, setting the man in question into her sights, placing upon her features an alluring smile. She knew what kind of person this man was, if he wasn’t remembered for his company name, it was for his tendency toward women.

”Good morning. I’ve had to cancel my meetings for the morning to pay this visit, many important meetings, Mr. Mackenzie. I hope I have not done so in vain.” Closing the door swiftly behind her without the slightest sound, Freya walked forward, sitting in the supplied chair only simply for courtesy’s sake. Regulus sat beside his human, staring coldly. She could handle this, that much he had confidence in. The human Richard, was of no concern to him, however his daemon had sparked some form of interest. She was a white tigress, the first he had seen. That said much for the man, if his reputation didn’t state they were of the same caliber. He almost felt proud to be sitting beside Freya.

Freya remained poised, entirely business. She had seen Richard Mackenzie before, often during parties, though she hadn't ever cared to observe him further. His family had power, perhaps, but his ties held no importance to her. Perhaps now, she would have to change her mind upon the matter. If he proved useful. The business at hand wasn't important to her, no, she had other motives. Was this the reason behind the pressing need to rush towards what was truly important.

Lifting a hand and shaking her head slightly, Freya declined. ”Your proposal, Mr. Mackenzie. I would very much like to hear more about it.”

’You’ll frighten him. Business is not all that is at stake here. If you don’t use caution, we may lose this entirely. You cannot afford to be hasty.’

Of course, she knew all this. Now was not the time to show weakness, nor the time to lose her edge, but at the same time, she would have to play this by ear. And for god’s sake, relax. It was unsettling, but she would have to let someone else control the situation. For now. Until she could find the point where she could seize power. She was getting too ambitious again. Regulus flicked his tail like a whip, never letting his gaze focus, yet at the same time, remaining cognizant of all before him.

Halfhearted, the lady listened to his proposal. Her posture gave warning to urgency, as though what she was hearing could have easily spurred her to make a swift exit. Any man, who had looked upon a Lockehart woman, would have praised good breeding, and Freya was no different in that regard. However, never in the history of the Lockehart line, had there been the piercing amethyst gaze of this particular Madame. What was not the darkest hues of regal air, held the pressing intensity of beguiling duplicity. At her side, Regulus gave hint to the same determination, kingly upon his haunches whilst steel blue eyes had found the tigress opposite him. Considerably appropriate, may be the question; which beast was indeed the daemon between the two; woman or tiger. Regulus felt his human’s nature blaze, raising his brow for a short reprieve upon his cold eyes, he paused, listened, only to yawn and close his eyes as though fully bored with the situation. His actions could not correspond with his human’s manner for it would give too much an insight into their inner workings, and it was an art which the duo had perfected in long runs through social meetings. No one could know what lie in her head, to know it would mean the greatest failure, something which neither daemon nor human would accept.

”Regulus, you have wasted my time! This man cannot have any knowledge worth hearing. It was a mistake to have come. Lord Asriel is who I seek, not this peacock! We should have met with the Master of Jordan whilst he had time to spare!’

’Do not be so hasty. The man is young, perhaps, but it was not his father’s money that gave him this expansive office. You stand in his building, and meet upon his terms. Do not forget it.

Rebuke came harshly upon her shoulders, nearly quailing as a result. Recovering without falter, Freya steeled her expression, letting the raw feeling of discipline sink into her core. She was being too impatient, and as per usual, Regulus was quick to leash her ambitious streak. The soft swish of a file opened alerted her to its location upon his desk. She had none of the proper training to identify such things, but knew enough to discern what it was she was looking at. Freya reclined in her chair, scoffing in the most subtle of ways, giving no sign of interest yet. Her face softened, and she felt the curve of angular features leave her face, giving way to femininity almost alien to her professional persona.

”You are interested in my land for such meager developments, Mr. Mackenzie? I was not aware a man such as you had such idealistic pipedreams.”

She looked through the file silently, going over every detail to allow each image to be fed into her daemon’s mind via their irrefutable bond. Silently, her hands closed the folder and she consulted her other half in the moments of reprieve. Taking care to keep the look of uncanny serenity upon her features, Freya draped an elegant hand over the arm of her chair and placed it upon the head of her waiting daemon. They were not by any means as close as one would suspect. What did either one care should the other meet anguish? Feeling was a fickle thing, one that could be over looked and overcome. Only in their business were they ever intimate. It gave her business partners, clients, and colleagues a sense of release, as it was entirely natural for one to be close to your daemon. Their lives were comfortable ones, and as such they worked together to keep such arrangements. Perhaps the only thing both could agree upon was the undoubted importance of the child. Marlene was to be a young lady in due time, and her future mattered much to both daemon and human, surprisingly enough.

’What do you think? From what I see… it appears- halved.’

’Indeed, paperwork is missing. He would think us fools enough to fall for this?’

Amused by the confirmation, Freya’s smile lightened visibly upon her features as her gaze panned and promptly settled upon Richard Mackenzie. It was a good trick; she had to give merit for that. The idea was far below standard, but his tactic did indeed impress. Perhaps he was not the oaf she had once pictured him to be. His daemon was a white tiger; like her own. Did it mean they were cut from the same cloth? Likely not, however it did promise to be interesting. In the very least it meant his rank in her eyes had ascended from that of a figurehead.

”Yes, I suppose you would quite like the scope of my land. Certainly such dreams would need it. Though I do hope you do not think me brash when I ask you this simple question. How exactly, do you see me, Mr. Mackenzie? I should like to know, very much so. For you see, I wonder precisely how juvenile you think I am, to consider such prospects. As you had said, the land is in its prime. Why then, would I give away what I know to be opportune real estate?”

Flattening upon the floor, Regulus almost appeared as meek as a house cat, idle in the summer sun. She had made a move which he approved of, though what her opponent would do with it, even he was uncertain. Many men had quailed from her, a fact which he had momentary pride in, though he would never let this pass through to his human. What respect would she have of him then? No, it was best this way. Silently remaining in a lounging state, Freya felt her confidence climb at the sight of her daemon’s position. She knew better than to relax alongside him, but was heartened to see his signal so clear. She had done something right, despite her insecurities. She would hope to keep it up for as long as it took.

He was tougher than she had thought, though nothing she wasn't prepared for. A big ego never sealed a deal, not with this Lockehart. Preparing for his reply, her chin raised expectantly, whilst Regulus below her took note of the tigress. She interested him far more than the situation, sheer rarity bid curiosity, an uncanny occurrence he found to be rather inappropriate. Sniffing disconcertingly he blinked idly, as if to discount his peering gaze as merely lazy scope into nothingness. Genuinely, the decision to fore go a drink was wise. No sooner had he stated his answer, her expression changed. Widened eyes gave full scape to a look of surprise, even her features gave, entirely aghast. Minutes past, a sense of stunned appraisal about her person.

Beginning slowly, a creeping twitch pulled at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes seemed to twinkle with an eerie sense of joy. A noise, or perhaps a voice, sudden as a light within darkness, almost like a tinkling of china, came the madam's laughter. Quick, short laughter, as if she had never made such a noise before in her life, or rather that she hadn't ever heard something so preposterous. Holding a gloved hand to her diaphragm whilst the other lifted to stifle the sound.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Mackenzie, truly-"

Attempting to find composure, Freya breathed in wistfully, as if recovering from an asinine joke. Adressing him again, having not been able to rid herself entirely of the whimsy in her tone she continued, "my apologies... But did you really think I would need your money? Fascinating, that you would think, your little business could help me?"

Whatever she found to be so humorous, was quickly lost from both her tone and features, both turning sharp simultaneously. Regulus raised his great head, taking his gaze off the tigress for the first time in minutes. He had nearly forgotten, how much pride was held within this woman. No matter how often he had reminded her of the place she held in this world, no matter the amounts of scolding she had attained in her younger years, Freya would not allow for another to tower over herself, not so long as could help it. Silencing his need to chastise, Regulus lowered his gaze, he held within him the growl he wished so desperately to release. She was being a fool! It mattered not how easily she could bend an elderly man's will to suit her own, for this was a man whose wealth needn't speak for him. Someone who must have had something more beyond this facade. His daemon demanded it.

'What did I tell you? You know what is at stake! You could have destroyed any chance we had right then!'

His tail swished with a vigorous pace suggesting if it should hit anything, that it would shatter from impact. Quickly as it had come, his anger was quieted, returning back into the recess of his own head, and not another word would come from him.
Set with her own anger toward the wretched words of her daemon, she remained silent losing any illusion of tact. They hadn't ever truly gotten along, however she couldn't part with the creature. For even she could not bear the pain it caused her. Regulus had tolerance for her, and in turn, she ruefully had to apply the same toward him, whether she liked it or not. Composing herself, an effort which nearly took all her energy to do, she stood.

"I haven't the care for money, my husband has left me with plenty. Mr. Mackenzie, what then, do you have to offer me?"

She paused, and to her surprise, noted that Regulus too, had stood displaying an equal sense of regal prowess which suited him well. Indeed, she was proud of her daemon's appearance, though the beast gave her grief at every turn. He caught her gaze at the corner of her eyes, and looked back at her plainly, nodding ever so slightly that their company hadn't caught the gesture. Severity, he could get behind. Perhaps she had saved them in this move, appearing too confident would be stepping out of bounds, but having reason for such things, though it did not dull pride, at least pardoned it.

Quieted, Freya allowed for Richard to speak. Honestly, not a word seemed worth registry, however she could tell in his features that he was hiding emotion, masking it with a smile. A fake out. She knew as much without having to see into his head, though she would have liked to see the tigress beside him turn hostile, she would have reason to shoot it.... but never mind that thought, the very idea was far too beastly to even fathom. Regulus confirmed the assessment, for any reasonable man would have likely burst at the seams to hear a woman speak so impudently, it simply wasn't kosher. She continued to stand, proud, tall, rigid for only one reason, to show exactly what breeding demanded. She was not simply the widower of some magisterial dog, she Freya Lockehart, daughter to a line of loyalist Windoms, whose wealth and established family had served and even guided the world's affairs in one way or another, none could be more clever than she. Her birthright demanded it, and so she settled for nothing less. Raising his brow questioningly, Regulus tilted his head slightly, his thoughts flooding into Freya's mind.

'Ah....At last, a man that is not afraid of you!'

'Silence! If he does not fear me then he is an utter fool-'

'Hush. Perhaps he is exactly what you were seeking.
To fear you, would mean he could not stand to challenge opposition, is it not a rebel's force you seek?
Rebellious; yes, I see it in this one. He does not quail in your presence, nor does he pardon your behavior.
He is a man.

Humiliation and utter consternation fused within her and coiled like a torpid chain. Her own daemon was siding with this man? She felt an inner betrayal so ingrained into her being, her dainty fingers lifted and pressed upon her chest like her heart itself had been skewered. Immediately she tore herself from the feeling, reminding herself of the immaterial nature of this detail. It mattered not that the daemon stated his opinion, never mind that he had never before seemed vocal in his views, it didn't matter. That daemon didn't matter. She pushed him from her mind with such force, he had no other choice but to return to his own mind. She was angry now, truly sincerely angry. If looks could kill, Freya would wish this man to drop dead where he stood, and in such heated rage she had even begun to reach for the pistol she had stashed about her person. This would have continued if not for the glimmer of spoken words, the only thing that reached her through the torrent of spiteful curses.

Never have too much money? As if someone had pulled the cork on her anger, all feelings of animosity dispersed. Instead, she smiled; a blatantly cocky, relished expression. Silk gloved fingers pulled traces of umber hair that had loosened and moved it sweepingly behind her ear. Her features again softened, nearly melting into an expression she hadn't worn in decades. What was she doing now? Regulus sighed inwardly. She was so unpredictable sometimes, or perhaps simply too clever for her own good. Changing faces was like changing clothes, for she did it so effortlessly this time, he nearly didn't recognize the woman who stood, almost like a saint and politely seated herself again.

Sitting, if not dis-concertedly, beside the chair again Regulus bowed his head and closed his eyes. This was her battle, not his, and her tactics were tiresome if that was indeed what she called these bizarre methods. Idly he wondered what sort the she-daemon was, his opinions of the man were one thing, anyone could lie through his teeth if they had the right amount of motivation. Seemingly amused, his deceptively slumbering expression showed hint to a smirk, perhaps even a snicker. It took one person, just one, to send Freya over the edge. He felt almost thankful to have found that person. She needed the reality check once in a while, and it brought back the fire he preferred in his human, she had become too accustomed to getting her way.

"I know what you are, Mr. Mackenzie. I had my suspicions, my doubts. But it all makes sense now." She remained smiling, her voice devoid of inflection, like a machine's orderly schematics, she held no humanity in her voice. Just the same, there was a sense of femininity, of gentleness, the sound had even stirred a glance from Regulus, though he returned to his state of fatigue and rested his jowls upon large uniquely plush paws. Continuing in a tone sickly sweet, it was clear the next subject spoke of another matter entirely, though she was uncertain and even uncaring of whether Richard was aware of it or not.

"My dear Mr. Mackenzie, I'll not play your games, and I'll not allow you to intimidate me, a mere woman, with your brutish tactics. We speak of land, land I do not need. The value of which, cannot be settled with boisterous egos and files of... incomplete paperwork..." She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head knowingly before lowering her gaze from the man and continuing in the same uncanny tone.

"There is something I want. Whether or not you are the man that can give it to me, is entirely up to you. Though from what I see, I would much prefer it from someone like you."

Seemingly interested in the cabinet from which Richard had once offered drinks she paused, pulling up the edges of her silken gloves before continuing.

"I do not care what you would do with the land, Mr. Mackenzie. Nor do I care for the money, whose value you place upon such high pedestals. Your printed paper bills shall not comfort you in the grave, sir." Feeling the building of tepid anger begin to heat under her skin she shook off the words, tilted her head to the right and draped her left arm over the side of the chair, looking uninterested in everything and pensive within her amethyst gaze.

"What is of true value, Mr. Mackenzie, is knowledge. Information. That, is the only thing I have interest in."