Remilia was alone on a windowsill looking out into the moonlight night with a glass of wine beside here. It had been a silent and pleasurable week. No major surprises, and the usual casual correspondence. However, Remilia knew that life liked to give things in spurts and fits. With that thought, and great timing, there was a knock at her door.

"Are you in Remi?"

Remilia looked over at who stood in her doorway, opened her arms with wine glass in hand, and replied cheerfully, "It's Patchuuuu~"

Patchouli let herself in with a small collection of letters, "You're already into the wine, huh?"

Remilia repeated herself, "Patchuuuu~"

Patchouli passed over a few of the letters to Remilia.

Remilia cheerful expression immediately vanished as she glanced through them, "They're outright refusing to pay rents..."

Patchouli replied, "They wouldn't put it that way, but yes, and in some cases, interest."

"Did these really come through all at the same time?"

Patchouli nodded, "I believe they found out how much you're really worth."

Remilia sighed. For the most part, due to her perfectionist attitude and protectionist nature (and because, technically, it was also her job) Patchouli did the lion's share of handling the Mansion's assets and finances; but occasionally, Remilia had to do her share of negotiating and petty politics. Usually because it demanded first-person visits and travel that Patchouli's constitution could not handle. This was one of those occasions.

"I know these people, they aren't the kind to come to the mansion to talk under the guise of a party."

Patchouli grinned, "They're smart is what you're saying."

Remilia chuckled and then sighed, "Yeah, I'll have to go intimida-I mean, talk to them on their grounds."

Patchouli looked at the list, "I'll be missing you for a while then."

Remilia shook her head, "It shouldn't take more than a few days."

She leaned back, "Patch, why do we do business with these people?"

Patchouli replied matter-of-factly, "For the money."

Remilia sighed again, "Ah...right."

The two sat and stared at the papers for some time.

Patchouli looked up at Remilia, "Shall I tell Sakuya to ready the stagecoach?"

"I should be able to fly out to each one, one-by-one; but...I suppose I should show some tact (and having to move about in the daytime would be a bother). Yes, tell her so."

The preparations were made at once, and Sakuya readied a gigantic coach that looked more like it should be attached to the Orient Express than to the giant multi-horse hitch. Patchouli gave Remilia a list of the people and places to visit (with long, overdone detailed profiles). The command and more menial affairs of the mansion were passed Patchouli (and subsequently immediately passed to poor Koakuma). They saw Remilia and Sakuya and the messenger fairy off, and just like that, they were gone. The mansion, although it had temporarily lost only two inhabitants, felt immediately more empty. Now instead of their daily tea-time briefings, they would be relegated to communicate by letters.

~One moment, girls are now writing~

Over the next few days, Patchouli received the incoming status reports. Remilia maintained her progress of intimid-"diplomacy" through all the contacts. Usually convincing her subjects that they owed more than they actually did. Koakuma remained stressed dealing with the frankly idiotic tendencies of the house staff, Patchouli tended to her usual business both with trying to handle things "diplomatically" via letter for Remilia ahead of time and the mansion's rare other businesses; and Sakuya, for once, enjoyed having a vacation. By the eighth day, the penultimate according to schedule, Patchouli summarized the only remaining hold-outs.

Remi,

I have finished consulting services with the Tengus. Their newspaper companies have been split up appropriately so that the equipment manufacturer child company hides the profits. They seemed fairly pleased with nearly all of the tricks we learned back at the UP, and have paid interests to the mansion.

The final batch of renters have responded to our orders except a chosen few. I have copied and attached their correspondences.

~Patch

Remilia looked at the stack of papers attached. Most were claims of outlandish, hidden charges (what do you expect when you do business with a devil?). After looking through them she decided she would probably have to be more "aggressive" with more than a few of them, and began writing letters to meet with the more belligerant ones. Remilia's fussiness over the details of the correspondence with each and every owner meant that this took the majority of the rest of the day. By day's end she finally had time to give a short reply to Patchouli.

Patch,

I am going to meet with the "chosen few" in person. The fallout from this will probably straighten out the others. That said, I will be gone again tomorrow.

~Remi

She mindlessly and subconsciously added to the end

P.S. I really miss you.

Before her conscious mind could recognize what she had written, she was already folding up and sealing the envelope to send back to Patchouli. She craned her arm back, handing it to Sakuya to take care of the rest and went to bed. One more mindless meeting, there was only one more mindless meeting left. Sakuya diligently drove the coach through the daytime, and apart from one group of sorry bandits that thought they could mess with Sakuya (honestly, they were probably making as much money stealing money from bandits as they were from collecting rents from hold-outs), by sunset they had reached the final destination: a large plantation manor.

As had been arranged, other coaches from a few neighboring large well-to-do farmsteads made their into the manor. The manor had begun buzzing with the trite affairs of the lower levels of aristocracy. After refreshing herself, Sakuya made her way into Remilia's coach (which was probably a quarter the size of the manor) to rouse the mistress and get her dressed. Their routine was silent, not a word was said in briefing or in questions. Both knew what was the final order of business, and both had been through this same routine several times over the past few days. Remilia waited at the door as Sakuya grabbed the last few items of business, putting them into a satchel, and opened the door for Remilia. The two made their way to a small court of well-to-do's that had congregated in the manor's backyard.

Like every other day before, they were immediately accosted by a very large group of status-seeking aristocrats. Sakuya did an excellent job of scaring away potential greedy money-chasing suitors with particularly fierce gazes (although, no one instructed her to do so). And Remilia spent a few hours relegating herself to some of the trite, yet important, relation-building with some of the aristocracy that had come from nearby since she was already so close (and doing her best to ignore the rest). When she was done, she glanced around to the people she actually wanted to see. And without a word spoken, a silence had hushed over the crowd as Remilia, Sakuya, and the last few remaining wealthy hold-outs made their way into the manor's dining hall which had already been set by the manor's servants.

Remilia made her way to the table's head and looked at the assembled table. All were charlatans in her book, with such haphazard reasons even though their payments were secured by contract. After she sat down, so did the rest of those gathered. None spoke. Most probably did not honestly expect Remilia to actually come and were now sorry that she did. She picked up her tea and took a few, long sips while staring down the man directly across the table from her. It was enough to make the room even more anxious in the midst of the awkward silence. Diplomacy required finesse even with words that were not spoken, a skill that required incredible precision and took even Remilia many centuries to perfect.

And was consequently interrupted by a knock at the door.

Remilia did not move or falter, she did not adjust her gaze to the man nor drop her cup. Continuing to stare at the man seated directly across from her, she asked, "Sakuya, could you see who it is?"

The maid standing behind her at the door turned and peaked through the door. Sakuya could see (to her surprise) Patchouli with a briefcase of imposing legal documents. Fortunately, Sakuya chose the most menacing words a group of 30-40 something year-old aristocratic farmers could hear.

"It's your lawyer."

Remilia let out a grin that befitted a devil, "Let her in."

Patchouli let herself in with grace, and wearing something much more formal than her usual clothing (for once), "I apologize for being late."

She made herself to Remilia's side, taking out the contents of the briefcase. If there was one thing scarier than the devil, it was her lawyer.

~One moment, girls are now suing~

After not too much time later the assembled group had finally left, most with a few polite tips of the hat, but all left in the kind of reverred silence you'd expect to see at a funeral wake. Remilia, Patchouli, and Sakuya waited patiently until they were alone in the room.

Once they had left, Remilia immediately turned to Patchouli, grasping her hand, "I thought you told me you were too weak to come."

By now, since the antagonists' departures, Patchouli's posture had visibly slouched, her face weakened, and her breath picked up, "I am."

Remilia intensified her gaze, "Then why? This is a trivial matter I could have handled myself."

Patchouli reached into a fold in her briefcase, producing a letter, and handed it to Remilia.

Remilia let go of Patchouli's hand and took the letter, looking it over quickly, "...This is just the letter I sent yo-" she stopped mid-sentence, noticing what she had done, "I...really wrote that?"

Remilia felt Sakuya trying to peep over her shoulder, and quickly closed the letter before she could see it.

She remained staring for a while at the closed letter, "You came out here because of that one line?"

Patchouli did not respond, and when Remilia looked over she found her already asleep from exhaustion.

She smiled quietly reached out patted her on the head, "Well, your instincts were right."