March 1st, 1892 — Zabini London Home

Lucretia's note had been unambiguous in her desire for a war council with her son. They had been in for more than a single season and neither of her children was showing much sign of meeting the ambitious goals she had set for them. Luciana's disappointment did not really surprise her and she may need to make a more focused match for the girl but that could wait until the seasons started again. Her darling son on the other hand would have no such luck - or peace.

Newly 26, handsome, working in a good business he would own one day, the right girl would be all he would need to secure his position in the top tier of society - and hers along with it.

'My son' she greeted in Italian, as the footman showed her first born into the room. She greeted him, her two arms touching his and pressing her cheek to either side of his 'We have much to discuss.' the footmen opened the door into the dining room 'Did your friends celebrate your birthday?.' she queried mildly, her tone pleasant and cordial but her son would surely know her mother was 'fishing' for the mention of any particular young ladies. The family 'celebration' had been modest, a cake and some gifts, then releasing him to his friends. She hadn't seen him since.

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