Xavier rounded a corner too quickly, nearly tripping over a stray feline. He aimed a distracted kick at it, missed, and continued quickly on his way. He stormed into his quarters, surprising a maid as she dressed his bed. She turned with a coy smile. "Nay, M'lord, I've only just dressed the bed and already--"

"Out!" He snapped, then cuffed her rudely out the door. "Get out. Send klah. Now, woman!" The door slammed shut. The young man flopped gracelessly into a chair, dangling his legs over the arm while he massaged his temples with one hand. The other tapped restlessly on the hilt of his sword. His seat on the council was already next to worthless... But to add insult to injustice, the council had recently found evidence of a spy within their midst. As the spy's identity remained impossible to determine, council had decreased their numbers in an effort to weed out the spy. Thus, only immediate family of the Lord and the Lord's advisors were permitted to attend council's sessions. Pointless, Xavier thought, gritting his teeth. One needn't be a council member to know their plans: Council "secrets" were whispered through the corridors, taken with wine at the dinner tables, even echoed and distorted through the kitchens and drudges' quarters.

The informant need only brisk through the Hold to know any manner of things. Nay, a spy need only sharp ears and open eyes to know the goings on of Thyra, and as a second-cousin of the Lord-- and therefore not immediate family-- Xavier found himself utilizing the same resources their spy probably did. Rumor, hear-say, observation... As yet those leeching dragon riders had not confronted Thyra about the lack of tithes, probably out of fear of being cut off by the other Holds. As far as Xavier was concerned, the Weyr was perfectly trapped: If they sought retribution, the other Holds might rise up, shaking off the tyranny of the Dragon Queen. Yet if they did nothing, avoiding confrontation with Thyra, they stood to lose the obediance of the Holds, who might similarly refuse tithes.

Xavier grinned wolfishly, running a hand over the golden stubble fleecing his jaw. Perfectly trapped... His smile faded, replaced by a formiddable scowl. Yes, his family had a stranglehold over the Weyr, and he was helpless to contribute, blind to the decisions and countermands of both Weyr and Hold!

His eyes widened. Wait... Perhaps... Yes, there was another way! He laughed low and deep. Yes... There was a knock at the door, and the dismissed maid re-entered bearing tray with a klah service, her eyes on the floor. She was trembling. "Come here," Xavier called, his voice velvet. The wench took a few tantative steps, raising her eyes tentatively. He gestured, and she crouched to set the tray on the floor. Xavier's eyes slid over her warmly. "Do you know," he purred, twisting to look the wench in the eyes. "Do you know the one thing keeping me from the Lord's council? A spy, dear. Yes, some weyr-bonded snake in our midst. But you are clever, are you not?" Greed and hope blended and filled the girl's eyes and she nodded fiercely. Xavier smiled reached for his belt, and the girl blanched before she saw the coin purse filling his hand. He tossed it to her. "I don't care how, but find that spy. Speak to your family, your friends, everyone from the oldest man to the youngest child. Find me that spy, and I give you my word that your wildest dreams will be at your fingertips. Go now, spread the word to everyone! If everyone is looking for a spy, it makes it that much harder for them to hide. Go!"

The woman fled the room, and Xavier stretched languidly. He had gone from two eyes to hundreds in mere moments. Spy in hand, he would demand his place back at council. Perhaps, even named third in line, after the Lord's own heirs... There was no limit to how far he might go! Yes, he thought, reaching for the klah. The Weyr was neatly trapped.

((Just opening up some new avenues for later... Plotty goodness!))