boxolawyers | Tea time~

Current Mood: devious

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Tea time~

Who: Cyril, Tyki, Edgworth
What: TEA TIME AT CYRIL'S~
Where: Cyril's lovely estate
When: Afternoon
Warnings: NSFW-ness and gratuitous smut? :3

It was a lovely day to spend time in the garden. The sky was clear, the air was fresh, and there was a cool breeze to offset the heat of the sun overhead. Honestly, it couldn't have been any more perfect if Cyril had planned it. Smiling to himself, the Noah withdrew a pocket watch from his vest and checked the time, giving a brief nod to one of his servents as she set a teapot on the table.

"Thank you, dear." Tucking the watch back into his vest, he looked up and flashed a brilliant smile at Tyki, who was sitting across from him. "It's ten to three," he said, watching the servant from the corner of his eye as she continued to set the table with three saucers, three tea cups, a bowl of sugar, and some biscuits. "He should be arriving any minute."

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Tyki avoided having tea at Cyril's as often as possible, but sometimes it just wasn't possible. Cyril had invited him, most specifically, right in front of the rest of the family and the Earl, one day while Tyki was making his bi-weekly visit that the Earl insisted he make so long as he was living off-world.

With all those eyes upon him - the only ones missing were Devit and Jasdero, as they were still at his beach house - there was no way to say 'no' and not seem rude.

But it wasn't as bad as it might have been. Cyril had kissed him when he first arrived, but hadn't managed to reach his lips, and the conversation as they waited for the tea to brew had been innocuous. Tyki hadn't been here long yet, though, and he had been wondering at the third cup.

"Who have you invited?" he asked politely. It seemed strange that Cyril would waste an afternoon with Tyki by inviting someone who he would have to behave in front of, so it had to be something important. Possibly something to do with the government.

"Tsk tsk, telling you would only spoil the surprise," he said, not even bothering to hide his smug enthusiasm.

Taking a cube of sugar for himself, he offered another to Tyki. "Sugar for you tea?"

"Please," Tyki replied, frowning faintly at Cyril. He waited for the sugar to be dropped into his cup, then stirred and sat back with it to his lips, watching his brother out of the corner of his eye.

After a moment, he rummaged and pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. "You always have an agenda," he said.

"I've made no claim to the contrary." He held his own tea close to his lips and blew before taking a small sip. "But you must learn to be patient, my dear brother. You'll see what I have planned soon enough."

The faint ringing of the doorbell caught his attention, and he turned to briefly look inside the house before flashing a smile at Tyki again. "Very soon, perhaps."

Tyki set his cup down and looked towards the door, trying not to look terribly curious or uncertain. Cyril was too happy about this, and he was sure that whatever this 'surprise' was, it was going to be interesting to him. It didn't seem like a political meeting, if Cyril was acting this way.

Given what he'd seen of his new associate thus far, Edgeworth had been expecting his home to reflect a fairly high standard of living. When he arrived, however, the fine, Victorian estate he was presented with surpassed his expectations. He ran an appraising eye over every inch of the decor as the butler directed him through the home; by the time they'd reached the French doors in the back, open onto a charming patio and lush garden, a small but appreciative smile had even touched his lips.

Unfortunately, the rarity was short-lived. Looking around the garden eventually drew his gaze back down to the table, where not one but two men were seated. As soon as their identities registered, the smile was replaced with a dark frown.

"Mr. Kamelot. Mar... Mikk," he said, coldly. Each address was accompanied with a nod, though the second was curt and stiff.

With the barest formalities out of the way, he turned his attention completely on his host, giving him a questioning look. "I wasn't aware anyone else would be attending."

Cyril rose to greet his guest, smiling despite Edgeworth's obvious displeasure. "Ah, Miles Edgeworth. My apologies." He bowed his head. "It was meant to be a surprise. You see, I'd heard that you and my brother were acquainted."

Tyki wasn't sure who the last person was that he'd expected to see emerge through the doors and enter the little patio where they were taking tea. He didn't think it was Edgeworth, but he was pretty low on the list.

"We are," Tyki said, rising to make Edgeworth a bow, and then taking his seat again. "Cyril, my birthday isn't until November, and already you've brought me a present. Edgeworth, didn't you know Cyril was my brother?"

The answer was clear in Edgeworth's wide eyes. His gaze slid from one man to the other. Finally, they came to rest on Kamelot again, his brows furrowing in warning, but when he spoke it was Mikk that he addressed.

"Mr. Kamelot and I only recently became acquainted. It seems your relationship hasn't come up yet."

Cyril watched the exchange, frowning in a way that was still entirely too amused. "Oh dear. I hope this isn't going to be a problem."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Tyki said, picking up his cup and taking another sip. "Please, I'm sure you won't be so rude to your host that you'll leave without taking even a cup of tea. I know that my very existence is offensive to you, Miles, but there's no need to be rude about it."

He really didn't want to see Edgeworth storm out before he could figure out why Cyril had orchestrated this encounter.

Edgeworth's jaw tightened at the mocking he detected in the words, and his attention vacillated between the two men for several moments, torn between his desire to extricate himself from the situation entirely and his wariness over dismissing Kamelot prematurely. In light of this new information, he doubted the man would turn out to be someone he'd want to continue associating with, but his conscious wouldn't allow him to make a definitive decision without any other evidence. Despite the implications, he had no way of knowing for certain whether Kamelot was involved in--or even aware of--the others' activities.

His aversion to being made to run, especially by a man like Mikk, finally decided things for him. Giving him a cold glare, he crossed to the table and gracefully took his seat.

"I assume you weren't aware of the exact nature of our association, Mr. Kamelot. As you can see, Mikk and I...aren't on the friendliest of terms." The last was punctuated with a heavy note of sarcasm, and he kept his attention fixed stubbornly on his host as he unfolded his napkin and discreetly slipped it across his lap.

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Tea time~

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