Night of November 20th, Lucien's Residence:
Lucien leaned back in his leather armchair, idly twirling his newly-nibbed quill between his fingers.
His eyes were closed, and the room was illuminated only by candlelight. When the door creaked open, a faint smile immediately played upon Lucien's lips, and he spoke. "Well, Thomas... you finally arrived?"
Thomas glared at Lucien, shoving the first door wider and then pushing the second one to allow more light into the room. He stared hard at Lucien, grinding his teeth before speaking. "What do you want with me? Be quick about it. Look at the clock in your room! It's past midnight!"
Lucien chuckled softly, dipping his quill into the inkpot before looking intently at Thomas. He laughed briefly, then composed himself and replied, "Oh, indeed? Do not make me laugh! This is precisely the opportune moment for our work to commence."
Thomas gripped his head and slowly shook it. He glared at Lucien again, saying, "Truly, you are the most shameful member of the Blacktide family! I fail to understand why the nobility afford you such consideration."
Lucien's smile, lingering from his laughter, vanished. "Ha? What..."
Thomas met Lucien's eyes directly and stated, "I said it plainly... you do not deserve the Blacktide family name!"
Lucien clenched his jaw. He rose from behind the desk and approached Thomas. When he reached him, he seized the collar of Thomas's coat. "What did you say! Have you grown weary of your life?"
Thomas laughed. "A brawl between two Black Market directors? How intriguing! What do you suppose the Chairman will say when he hears of this?"
Lucien tightened his grip on Thomas's collar, but ultimately released him. He turned his back, staring at the desk, and said, "We must bring Morven low, from the heavens to the dust."
Thomas smoothed his collar, but as Lucien finished his sentence, Thomas suddenly grasped the implication. He looked slightly alarmed. "W-what! Are you a fool? Do you not realise his influence reaches even the Royal Court? King George would turn all of Britain upside down if Morven merely vanished without a trace!"
Lucien balled his hand into a fist. "I know... I know that myself! But if we do not eliminate Morven from our path now, while the opportunity presents itself, we shall never be able to do so later!"
Thomas grabbed Lucien's shoulder from behind. "What opportunity? Do you truly believe anyone would credit your tale of seeing Morven kill Elizabeth? The aristocracy place such confidence in Moron that they would believe him even if he claimed their own son was a traitor to the country!"
Lucien covered his face, pressing his hands tightly to his head. Finally, he took a deep breath, turned, and fixed his gaze upon Thomas. "That is precisely why I require your assistance!"
Thomas was surprised. "My help? What assistance could I possibly offer you?"
Lucien walked past Thomas, stopping in the corridor. "I require Anne (Anné) from you."
Thomas stared at Lucien, then chuckled softly, his laughter gradually growing louder. When his laughter subsided, he said to Lucien, "You... you wish to take Anne from me? You may as well ask them to just kill me now!"
Lucien looked at Thomas, then moved swiftly, gripping Thomas's shoulders with both hands. "I will pay you any amount you ask. I need Anne—understand this!"
Seeing that the situation could not continue, Thomas nodded. "Very well... I understand. You need not pay me, only return her to me by the 27th of this month."
Lucien released Thomas's shoulders and smiled. "Thank you... truly, thank you!"
Thomas merely adjusted the shoulder of his coat with one hand and asked, "May I take my leave now?"
Lucien stepped aside, allowing him passage. "Of course... I only request that Anne be with me by tomorrow morning."
Thomas walked past Lucien and, without looking back, raised his right hand as a sign of assent. He then slipped his right hand back into his coat pocket and departed.
2:00 AM, November 20th–21st:
Lucien remained seated in his leather chair, staring at the desk until, finally, he rose and went to his bed, where he immediately fell asleep, resolved to commence a better day on the morrow.
And in his thoughts, he told himself,
"I shall not let this opportunity slip away... I will make you kneel before me, brother."