"Hey Claude, letter for ya" Cyril announced one afternoon when Claude was working the full day in the office. He wasn't even doing his own work at that; today he was covering for his Grandfather at meeting after tedious meeting. The delivery boy handed his clipboard over and Claude signed for it before examining the envelope and the prominent emblem of Derdriu University on the front.
"Oh, from Lissy, huh? Not seen her in a few days, she good?" He asked.
"She's fine, and you know she hates it when you call her Lissy."
"I know." Claude answered with a grin, tearing the letter open and scanning over it quickly. "If you see her before I do, tell her I'll set up an appointment soon."
"Sure thing." Cyril agreed and nodded his farewell as he moved on to the next delivery, leaving Claude to sink back into the pattern of work -and interruption.
"Um, Mr Riegan." Ignatz began tentatively, poking his head in around the door as Cyril left.
"Nope." Claude answered without looking back up "Just because I'm behind the old man's desk doesn't make me your boss."
"Right, Claude, um, I'm about to head out, do you have any extra assignments for me because, well,"
Claude sighed "Because I'm technically the boss just now. I think we're good Ignatz, where are you headed out to?"
"City Hall, Millennium Park and the Trade Expo going on in the Daphnel building."
Claude nodded as he mapped out the most likely route through those in his head, and considering the events they already knew were scheduled in that day "As you're going past it anyway, get some shots of the frontage of The Rose will you? Don't worry about the interior or asking them to plate something up, just the outside will do."
"A-alright!" Ignatz agreed, making a quick note. "I should have these done and uploaded on schedule Tuesday evening. Um, are you going to the Expo? I heard a lot of good things about what's on show."
"If I get a chance. Maybe I'll see you there." Claude answered, clapping the photographer's shoulder as he passed him in the doorway on the way to his next meeting "Good work, Ignatz."
~o~*~o~
By the time Ignatz made it to the Daphnel building things were already in full swing. He found a good vantage point to get a couple of wide-lens establishing shots of the entire convention centre and the stall setup before he began wandering through the crowds to take pictures of what seemed interesting or picturesque, being careful that the stalls and merchandise were in focus and not the shoppers.
"Excuse me," a voice spoke behind him "I think you dropped this."
He turned to find a blue-haired woman holding out his lens cover. Ignatz took it, realising that the thin cord that usually bound it to the lens itself had broken; it could have fallen off anywhere.
"Thank you! I can't believe I lost this. How did you even know it was mine?" he asked, stowing it in a pocket until he could fix the cord.
"I have a knack for reuniting lost items with their owners." The woman explained with a small smile. "And you're the only person with a professional-"
"IGNATZ!" another voice bellowed from along the row, and Raphael started heading towards him through the crowd, as Ignatz lifted a hand in acknowledgement.
"-camera." The woman finished.
"Well, thank you again." He said, and she nodded and moved off back to her own explorations, as Raphael barrelled towards them.
"Who was that?" His friend asked.
"Ah, no-one, she was just returning something I dropped. What's the hurry Raphael?"
"Oh, right! Look who else I found!" His friend beamed, and took a step to the side, revealing a smirking Claude who'd been completely hidden behind him.
"Looks like I made it after all. Are you about done? Raphael wanted a second, and third, opinion on some of the cookware."
"I should have enough of this section." Ignatz agreed, tapping his finger over the casing of his camera as he considered how much memory he should have left and how many more pictures he may actually need to ensure he had enough clean shots to work from "Yeah, sure, lets head over."
~o~*~o~
By the time Tuesday rolled around, Claude was glad his Grandfather was back in the office. He really loved being a food critic; roaming the streets and finding the hidden treasures that popped up -and then eating them, truly enjoying the bounty of the earth and the skill of the chef. He would have been satisfied freelancing and occasionally seeing his work in the Derdriu Star. Instead he was faced with the prospect of inheriting the whole Riegan publishing empire.
Not to mention the other side of his family.
Being one of the Riegans was practically anonymity in comparison, even in Fódlan.
Still, he worked as far from the office as he could that day, and had settled in to get some extra work done through the early evening when Hilda barged her way into his apartment, setting down a number of bags on his counter and immediately beginning to unpack them; starting with a substantial supply of wine.
"Hilda, Hilda, no, this is not a screw-top rosé household and you know that. We can do better." He insisted when he got a glance at the bottles she was pulling out. Hilda ignored him, twisted one cap off viciously and took a swig straight from the bottle. The next item out of the bag was a tub of ice-cream and Claude paused for a moment, realising that maybe he should be offering her a blanket instead of a glass.
"Caspar bounce again?"
"How many times do you have to 'find yourself'!?" Hilda demanded slamming the bottle down and pulling a second tub of ice-cream from her bags.
"Three, apparently." Claude answered, before wincing as he realised that was absolutely not helpful, and pulled Hilda over to the couch. "Here, you sit, I'll get glasses and spoons and- you want a throw?"
Hilda gave a vaguely affirmative whine, nodded, and Claude darted around, putting the extra ice-cream in the freezer and making sure the wine was close to hand as she curled up into one corner of his couch. Her knees were tucked up to her chin defensively, but her expression was glaring.
"He didn't even ask me to go with him this time! Like- like he needs to be away from me!"
Claude carefully said nothing as he draped a throw over her and handed down the first tub of ice-cream and a spoon and then set a glass down on the end table beside her, next to the wine. He eased himself onto the other side of the couch with his own spoon at the ready for his turn at the ice-cream and nudged her with one foot.
"Well, you are pretty awesome lately. Especially so, I mean. You practically have your own brand Hilda, and a pretty epic following last I checked. People ask for you, specifically, to make things for them. When you guys first got together you were both free to just travel as you liked, but now…" he trailed off as he saw the angry tears building.
"What, so I can't be successful!? Even when I do well I'm letting someone down!? Screw that!" she exclaimed, tearing open the ice cream and driving her spoon in like a warrior of old delivering the finishing blow to a mortal enemy.
"Of course you're not letting anyone down, Hils." Claude soothed "You've just spent the last while building something permanent for yourself and Caspar… hasn't."
"And so he can just disappear whenever he feels like it? Nuh-uh." She practically forced the ice-cream on him as she stood and paced about in front of the couch, gesticulating widely with her spoon and only pausing to pour half the bottle of wine into her glass and start in on that. "That is not what we were about! Yeah we started casual, but we were supporting each other! I thought we still were! Was I missing something? Was I not good enough? Why couldn't he talk to me about it before packing a bag and texting me that he'd be back in a month or two!?"
"What, actually!?" Claude managed almost choking on his own sip on wine as that hit home "that is… that is not okay."
"I know! I know, but did I- was I- No, I know that's ridiculous, but if I maybe slowed my projects down a bit do you think he'd-"
"Hilda."
"Well it's worth considering!" She snapped, but couldn't hold his gaze with his sympathetic eyes on her and turned back to refill her glass.
"Hilda, when is the last time you and Caspar talked about the future?" Claude asked.
"…I don't think we ever did." Hilda admitted after a pause, still looking away.
Claude allowed that to sit for a moment before continuing; "I've been reading this Gautier guy in the Pegasus lately -you know the usual agony-aunt write in type thing. He's really big on being upfront about where you're at and where you want to be going so a couple, or triad, or whatever can plan together and check they still fit. Yeah maybe a couple who've been together twenty years can just look at each other and know they're on the same page, but everyone else should be checking in, monthly, every other month, as often as needed. I think you and Caspar really need to have that talk."
Hilda made no motion, and Claude was beginning to wonder if he'd said the wrong thing when she turned back again, eyes wide and glassy, expression almost neutral.
"Sylvain? Sylvain Gautier is being paid to give relationship advice?"
"Um, yeah? His column is actually pretty good, Gramps was complaining that we don't really have a counter-" And Hilda was laughing, a full-on desperate belly laugh "… this is one of those things I missed growing up across the border isn't it?" he concluded, and Hilda could only nod.
And then the laughter turned to tears.
~o~*~o~
Ignatz had finished touching up and submitting all the other projects he'd been working on. All that was left was the spread for the Trade Expo. Most of the shots were already in place, but he needed one more; preferably showing off the health and fitness zone, or the garden zone as none of the other pictures had featured those areas.
As he was clicking through something caught his eye and he had to stop to figure out what it was…
It was the woman who had found his lens cap for him!
The picture had caught her in three quarter profile, speaking with a trader in the active-wear section; it looked like they were discussing a pair of lace-print leggings. Her head was tilted ever so slightly to one side, one hand curled up just under her chin, the other cupping the opposite elbow. She was very photogenic.
But, while having people in the shots was good, having them so clearly in-focus and recognisable just wasn't good practice for this sort of article. Or anything outside of fashion, really. This spread was supposed to be about the market and wares, promoting Derdriu and the Daphnel Building after all.
So he deleted it, and moved on.
~o~*~o~
When Hilda had cried herself asleep, Claude shuffled away to make a necessary call.
"You're kidding me!?" Ingrid exclaimed and Claude jerked the phone away from his ear.
"No, sorry, I know it's shitty of me, but, well, family emergency."
"Is everything alright?" Ingrid asked, immediately concerned.
"Yep- that is; it will be. I am sorry about this."
"No, no, it's not like I'm not used to eating alone, right? I'll manage. Take care, Riegan, I hope everything clears up soon."
"Thanks Ingrid, I'll catch you some other time. Safe travels tomorrow."
Ending the call Ingrid huffed and thought for a moment. She could admit to herself that she'd been looking forward to Claude's experiment and was loathe to give it up. And she was already here just waiting to be seated. After a moment of consideration she spun on her heel to address the family of three behind her.
"Hi there, good evening, sorry to interrupt, I'm Ingrid Galatea with the Daily Pegasus. I was going to review this restaurant undercover, but, well my beard cancelled on me. Would it be an imposition to ask you to join me? The paper will be paying, of course."
"Well I'm not one to turn down a free meal." The only man in the party answered and stuck a hand out for Ingrid to take "Jeralt Eisner. This is my wife Sitri, and our daughter, Byleth."