Aldrich Abbott. He was handsome, Magda would give him that. The bottle in his hand no doubt spelled trouble and would have given a proper lady reason for pause. But Magda was no lady—never had been—so she crossed confidently over the threshold into the little home, the door shutting on her guards who remained outside. The crackling fire would better light Magda’s features: her soft tanned skin, her pouting lips, and sloping curves. The beauty was enough to mask the foul creature that lived inside them.

“What kind of hostess would I be if I did not give you a proper welcome?” Magda’s tone was laced with playfulness and double entendre—as it always was. Her dark eyes slipped across the features of his room as if they might tell her something about the new sergeant before she turned her attention back to Aldrich.

“How are you finding Coheed so far, Sergeant?”

“Hmm….” Magda said with a smirk, moving about Aldrich’s room as if it were her own, “That’s rather a defeatist attitude, sergeant. Women serving in the military ranks? Families living within stone walls instead of huts on the grasslands? Just think…” Magda turned to face him, smiling, “What another five years can do.” Whatever her little soliloquy had been aimed at, Magda shrugged and continued on to answer her next question.

“That Othello Allemeade’s rather public arrest—or whatever you want to call it—has created cracks I’ve been working to repair. Displays of military might only rattle the natives, make them think that they too must rise to arms. A gentle touch is always best…” Magda grinned, “Or so I’ve learned.”

Magda chuckled too—a dark, rippling sound that unfurled like a silken banner. Her assessment of Aldrich’s surroundings completed, she stood before him, turning a single curl around one of her fingers.

“Oh no, Lieutenant Abbot, it is the men that need it most…” She tilted her head to the side, still winding a curl around her finger. “Are you going to invite me to sit, Lieutenant, or shall I make myself at home?”

Magda was aware of the effect she had on men, just as a soldier knew how their sword moved through space. Beauty was her weapon, the tool that had been her breaking and making, and so she inflicted her looks now on the poor Lieutenant.

The chieftess—no, minister—lounged on one of the chairs, crossing her legs so that the silk of her skit revealed more of her leg than it should have. She leaned back, making a show of contemplating Aldrich’s question though she already knew the answer.

“The men of Coheed grow restless,” Magda said, “If we do not heed their barks, they are inclined to want to bite, even if it’s the hand that feeds them. So…” She smirked, “I plan to create an advisory council of sorts. A group of Coheed’s men are to be elevated under the governor so that they may feel their grievances are being heard. As for you…” Magda smiled, “I’d like you to integrate them into military matters. Make them feel as though they are truly a part of our work here. Not just adjacent to it.”

Magda raised an eyebrow at Aldrich’s immediate response, a smirk tugging at her full lips. Everything was presenational. Every movement and angle was calculated to draw men in. Her smile endured for the rest of Aldrich’s speech in a conspiratorial way. As if she and Aldrich were old friends with a long-established history and a secret between them.

“Rian will do as I recommend, both as his wife and as Nevermere’s ranking representative on these grasslands,” Magda said, starting to twist a curl around her finger again in a slow, steady rhythm, “So fear not, Sergeant Abbot. You’re safe from the chieftain’s wrath.” Magda chuckled, thinking idly that it was the chieftess he should be worried about.

“Make them play for your team and there will be no need for an uprising,” Magda shrugged, “Act as an oppressor, they’ll continue to believe themselves oppressed. We want them to marry Nevermerean witches, do we not? To accept our ways and value our vision? What better way than to make them part of it? Difficult as it may be…” Magda smirked, eyes scanning Aldrich with unabashed lust, “I believe you capable of such a task."

Magda grinned, her white teeth sparkling in the low light. “An excellent idea,” She purred, responding as though yes it was indeed the finest suggestion anyone had ever made. She did happen to like the idea. Magda could prepare the women accordingly. And with witches holding the hands of Coheedsman that Magda would bring under her pretty little thumb? Well…

Her dark eyes intentionally softened as Aldrich acquiesced. What a good boy, she thought. Magda liked this one. He was handsome and clearly pliable. Useful, potentially…

“I shan't keep you, Sergeant,” Magda said, lifting from the chair like a snake uncoiling itself from a branch. “It’s late. But know,” She paused offering Aldrich a glittering smile, “I’m ever so glad that you’re here. There’s much we can accomplish together, I think.”