Regan had little time to spare. She’d not seen Warren since their night together, but that had nothing to do with avoidance and everything to do with the enormity of the task she and Othello had ahead of them. There was a certainty in Warren that gave her comfort; made it easier to focus on other matters. It was becoming increasingly clear that Isolde was their target. Memories of her Coheed blunder still loomed over her. She couldn’t fail. Not again. Particularly now, Cassian’s disappointment would be too much to bear.

Cassian. If he’d been a constant preoccupation before, now the tug had reached the level of obsession. She needed to prove that her challenge had been justified. That she deserved the place by his side she’d clawed out for herself. There was no real way to ever know what Cassian was thinking, and that mystery festered like a splinter.

Vesper would be directed to Regan’s quarters. There, Regan was furiously polishing and sharpening everything she intended to take with her, running and re-running a thousand different scenarios in her head.

Following the offered directions, Vesper soon stood in front of Regan's door. She straightened her spine. While she had never spoken to the woman personally, she had heard enough to feel like the King's Huntsman could be...unpredictable. She had no idea how this meeting would go. Standing tall she rapped on the door three times and waited, hoping the Huntsman was, indeed, in her room and not, perhaps, in the King's.

Regan expected it to be Othello. Warren was gone, much to her dismay, and Cassian would call her to him, not seek her out. No one else had use for her, so she wrongly assumed it was the Coheedsman turned soldier that a strange twist of fate had bound her to.

“You miss me already?” Regan called out, “Come in.” She wouldn’t look up immediately. When she did and saw Vesper in the doorway, her brow furrowed.

“Oh. Uh, sorry, I thought you were…someone else.”

It was instantly obvious that Regan had made an assumption about who was at her door and for a second she actually hesitated to enter. Instead she settled with opening the door but not stepping inside. The woman clearly looked confused and at her apology Vesper answered with little emotion one way or the other. "Clearly. I hope it's not too much of a disappointment," she said with a tone that was hard to read what she might mean by that.

"Miss Lassiter, pardon my spontaneous visit. My name is Vesper Delvaux and I am the Inquisitor General," she wasn't sure how much Regan knew or didn't know about who she was or her recent appointment in a new kind of position. "I was hoping to have a few moments of your time to ask you a few questions."

Vesper Delvaux. Regan knew the woman by reputation and had no doubt that she was the perfect pick for the task she’d been assigned. When she’d heard about the appointment of the new so-called “Inquisitor General”. Regan hadn’t formed an opinion on Hadiran installing a designated snooper; foolishly, the King’s Huntsman thought herself to be exempted from scrutiny. She answered to Cassian and Cassian alone, after all. Whatever Hadrian Usher thought mattered very little in comparison.

But still…Vesper’s question had a cold chill running up the back of Regan’s neck. Alys’s condition was, of course, the first thing that came to mind. Since the ball, unwelcome questions seemed to be popping up like crocuses in the spring. If Alys’s current state was next…

Regan shrugged, and indicated toward another chair, staying casual.

“Yeah, sure, have a seat.”

Vesper moved further into the room with no emotion on her face to give away her reason for being there as the huntsman offered her a seat. She pulled it out slightly by the back before sitting, secretly glad that she wouldn't have to stand as her leg was feeling particularly painful today.

Settling her hands in her lap she turned her full attention back to Regan. "I was wondering if you might be able to tell me what you know about Warren Woodwick, about his character." She looked expectantly on the woman, her grey eyes as void of readable emotion as a swirling mist settling on the sea.

Regan stopped what she was doing mid-motion. Never one able to keep her feelings from her face, Regan’s cheeks turned pink as soon as Warren’s name left Vesper’s mouth. Why was she asking about Warren? If she were trying to dig up dirt on Captain Woodwick, that was a dead end. Surely. What was it that Hadrian was up to this time? Still trying to play it casual, she looked up at Vesper trying to present as the picture of professionalism. Vesper was a truly unsettling woman—and coming from a witch who was herself unsettling at times, meant something.

“He’s the best of us,” Regan said firmly, “He’s honest, fair, dedicated to those under his command. Everything he does he does for others—a little bit of a self-sacrifice complex, truth be told.” Regan smirked, trying to lighten the mood and gain some clue as to what the other witch might be up to.

“Why do you ask?”

Where Vesper had long ago trained herself not to show her emotions on her face, it seemed that Regan had no such skill. The instant surprise followed by a rosy blush could have nearly told the story even if Vesper had not already heard it. Regan was trying to remain casual but her expression had already betrayed her. Vesper did need the confirmation for this meeting anyway, it was just an added bonus to see it written all over her face.

Vesper had not known Warren long enough to use those words to describe him. It sounded as though he was everything that a Captain ought to be, but Vesper remained unconvinced. After what had happened with Bex she hoped that everyone had learned that a person is not always what they present on the outside. Trust was something that should be more fully scrutinized before it is truly earned, and even then...didn't everyone hide parts of themselves, even from those they loved the most? She certainly believed so. Not everyone was all good. Nor were they all bad.

Still, Regan's words added nicely to her narrative so it was a great segue, whether she believed her words about Warren to be true or not.

"Because, Miss Lassiter, it is for all those reasons that I'm here to advise to keep your distance from Captain Warren Woodwick. I'm sure you're at least mildly aware of the less than ideal reputation you already have, not to mention your seemingly uncontrollable violent streak, and it simply wouldn't do for the King's wild Huntsman to get involved with Nevermeren troops. Captain Woodwick or otherwise. You are a distraction and an influence that our kingdom's soldiers could do without." Again, her words lacked emotion, not overtly threatening or even judgmental. It was spoken more with a tone of blunt fact giving though a subtle storm was beginning to brew behind those mist colored eyes.

If Regan’s face had been bright red before, now she was practically fluorescent. At first, it had been a sign of flustered embarrassment, but the tide had quickly turned to embarrassed anger. Her brow pinched together as she scowled at the stranger who had come to pass judgment. Her reputation? Her violent streak? Righteous indignation bubbled up in her, twisting her face with a scowl.

“Is that why Hadrian sent you?” Regan said sourly, “To tell me to keep my dirty paws off one of his golden boys?” She scoffed, continuing with her task and looking away from Vesper, “Good to know the commander’s taking some personal responsibility for the state of things and not trying to pin blame on others.”

The last sentence could not be more sarcastic, even if she tried.

It was not easy to rile up Vesper. In fact, it had not happened in quite some time, and she fully expected that Regan's little outburst would not elicit much of a reaction today either. She looked at Regan as if she was the patient mother of a toddler who was throwing a tantrum.

"Believe what you wish, Miss Lassiter, but please be aware that this matter is quite important and will be dealt with as necessary should you not heed our advice."

Vesper’s inscrutabe mask of calm only infuriated Regan further. Perhaps Regan was a toddler throwing a tantrum—it wouldn’t be the first time—but she was one with fire in her fingers and an axe on her knee. Not that she intended to use either at present, but it was nice to imagine what her blade would look like wedged in Vesper’s skull. If only for the catharsis of it all.

“This is matter is quite important and will be dealt with as necessary should you not heed our advice."

Dealt with as necessary.

Regan’s searing gaze once again turned toward Vesper. She put her weapon down next to her and stood, crossing her arms.

“Lucky for me I don’t answer to you—or the commander. So there’s very little you can say to scare me Miss Delvaux,” Regan let her words sit for a moment before turning her back to Vesper and to another task, “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to do and only a little time to do it in.”

No, she didn’t answer to either of them. However, she was perhaps forgetting that the commander had an ear with the king as well. Vesper wasn’t about to remind her.

As Regan dismissed her Vesper stood and made her way towards the door. Even she got there, hand on the knob, she looked back at Regan. “Wisdom is not something that is only gained with age, you may do well to utilize it,” she said.

She’d then leave the room unless Regan halted her.