Rosa watched, her mind observing and cataloging the details with a cool, sharp focus. Lloyd's posture was relaxed, intent, lacking the awkwardness or hesitant deference he often displayed within the more formal settings of the estate. He moved with an economy of motion, a quiet competence as he handled the buckets and explained… whatever it was he was explaining. The servant girl, initially timid, seemed to gain a measure of confidence under his instruction, her movements becoming more assured as she assisted him. There was an unusual dynamic between them – not the stiff formality she expected between master and servant, nor the inappropriate familiarity that might suggest scandal. Instead, it looked like focused, shared work. Collaboration. And the work itself? It appeared remarkably like… manual labor. Involving dirt and ash.
Interesting, she thought, her mind sifting through the observations. Lloyd Ferrum, voluntarily engaging in such a task. With a servant of low standing. His demeanor is focused, competent, lacking his usual social hesitations. She noted the girl's transition from apprehension to attentive cooperation. He seems to be undertaking some sort of experiment. Agricultural? Or perhaps something more… esoteric, given the talk of 'hidden fire' and unusual properties of ash? The purpose is unclear. This is certainly a deviation from typical noble behavior.
She watched them test something with an egg. Saw the brief flicker of satisfaction on Lloyd's face, heard the girl's surprised gasp. They seemed pleased with the result of their strange ash-water filtration. Then they carefully collected the resulting liquid into a heavy jug, Lloyd handling it with noticeable care, as if it were something valuable or potent.
"Lyra," Rosa murmured, her voice a low, cool whisper that barely disturbed the air, her gaze never leaving the figures by the pond. "The girl. Identify her."
Lyra, ever vigilant, had already been assessing the servant. "Jasmin, Lady Rosa," she replied instantly, her voice equally quiet, devoid of inflection. "Seventeen years of age. Orphaned daughter of the late head butcher, Gerold. Employed in the estate kitchens since her father's passing five years prior. Assigned primarily to the butchery section. Known for being quiet, diligent, keeps to herself mostly. No notable affiliations or scandals recorded." Lyra delivered the information concisely, efficiently, a walking personnel file. She added, as a subtle note of context, "Considered somewhat plain. Unlikely to attract… undue attention."
Lyra anticipated, perhaps, a flicker of annoyance from her mistress. A noble heir spending hours engaged in mysterious, dirty work with a low-ranking kitchen maid? It courted gossip, potentially reflected poorly on the household, and by extension, on Lady Rosa herself. A typical noble wife might display jealousy, suspicion, or disdain.
But Rosa's expression remained utterly unchanged. Her face was a serene mask, her eyes holding only cool, analytical observation. Jasmin's identity, her background, her potential attractiveness – these were simply data points, fed into the ongoing calculation. Annoyance? Jealousy? Such emotional responses were inefficient, illogical distractions from understanding the core anomaly: Lloyd himself.
She watched as Lloyd and Jasmin gathered their equipment, Lloyd carefully carrying the heavy jug, Jasmin trailing with a bucket. Watched as they disappeared down a hidden path, heading back towards the estate buildings, but clearly avoiding the main thoroughfares.
She noted his clear preference for discretion as they moved off, carrying their tools and the jug of processed ash-water. He's taking pains to avoid being seen, Rosa observed, her mind piecing together the implications. The purpose of this project remains obscure, but it clearly involves this ash-derived liquid and, given their direction towards the more remote service buildings, likely requires further steps involving heat – a forge, perhaps, or a controlled fire.
Rosa remained by the oak tree for several moments after they had gone, the image of Lloyd, ash-streaked and focused, explaining something intently to the nervous kitchen maid, lingering in her mind. It was a perplexing picture, one that didn't align with her initial understanding of him. This man… he continues to present contradictions. The mediocrity she had first perceived, the apparent timidity, the assumed lack of significant power or intellect she had coolly dismissed… her own direct observations were systematically challenging those early judgments.
She mentally reviewed the recent, jarring events. The cabinet incident – a display of impossible power, wielded with chilling, controlled lethality that spoke of hidden capabilities far beyond what was publicly known. Then, the confrontation with Viscount Rubel – a surprising display of political acumen, unflappable confidence in the face of accusation, and an unnerving knowledge of buried family secrets. And now this… this patient, focused, hands-on involvement in some obscure, messy project, working closely with a low-ranking servant, clearly prioritizing secrecy.