Ione scries the next delegate on her list. "Lluïsa Oriol i Cornellà" looks to be a young human woman quietly copying out paperwork in an otherwise empty office. That matches up with the tax records listing her occupation as "junior associate attorney", so likely the records are also right about her being in Westcrown. She considers not spending a teleport on it and simply walking over and knocking on the door, but figuring out where in Westcrown the office is would take more time than she has allotted per delegate. Ah well. She teleports herself into the office, just inside the front door.

This is alarming, so she very deliberately finishes writing her current sentence before standing and nodding at the teleporting intruder, despite standing revealing her greatest weakness.

"Welcome. I am greatly Heartened to Receive a Client Visit today; I can make time for you now, or else at your Convenience. Are you an Existing Client, or have you come for a New Engagement? I admit I do not recognize your Countenance, so at the least you are not Preexistingly one of Mine."

Ione waits while Lluïsa finishes writing.

"Thank you. I am indeed not an existing client. Are you Lluïsa Oriol i Cornellà?"

Oh, a debt collector. Well, she's prepared and overprepared, though it's painful to think of all the money going just like that. They're going to be so upset they wasted a teleport wizard on this.

"You have my Name Correctly, but what is your Business? I do presently have the Capacity to take on Work, and would hear it."

"I'm here because you've been selected to represent the people of Cheliax at the upcoming constitutional convention. For most delegates, I'd be here to provide transport, but I suppose you don't really need it, since you're in Westcrown already. It's to be held in Rego Laina, starting on the second of Sarenith. You'll need me to give you the mark that will prove you belong there. Do you have any questions?"

"Convention? I had heard Rumors of an Assembly of the Nobility, to which I belong only Faintly in the most Painstakingly Hairsplitting Genealogical Sense, certainly not Holding any Right or Title which would grant Admission. And wilder Rumors, of the mad Galtan and his various Outlandish Plans; to subject all Slavers of Halflings to the final blade, or to subject all Halflings to that same blade, or that the Archmages plan together to summon Representatives of All the People for a great Sacrifice of Blood unto Righteous Iomedae. Certainly I would like to see the Letter of Summons that I might Understand and Discern the Truth of this Matter."

Ione proffers a piece of paper bearing the new royal seal.

"Here's the summons, though it doesn't contain all that much detail on the convention itself. You are correct that it is the idea of the 'mad Galtan', but Mssr. Cotonnet does not intend for it to involve any blood sacrifices or final blades. The convention does involve an assembly of the nobility, but it also involves an assembly of members of the populace. You may recall an election happening in your county to choose someone as a representative? In addition to those chosen in that election, some were selected by sortition - that is, we chose them randomly from a list of as many of the people of Cheliax as we could find records of. You are one so selected."

Well, it's an apparently genuine summons from her Majesty.

"I will take it as Genuine, then, the Royal Seal appearing True and Unforged. I had thought the Elections to be Nonsense, and did cast a Vote for the Blandest Milquetoast standing and thereafter thought no more of the Matter. Assuredly this idea of choosing by Lot is Madder still, and yet I will neither Shirk this Summons or be Slothful in my Duty. Though I shall burn many Candles and Spill much Ink in Preparation, to say nothing of leaving Gainful Work unattended." Though it is a royal summons, and this might work out.

"Is there then to be a Royal Fund for such Expenses, and in what Manner may I make Application for the Disbursement of such Funds?"

"Luckily, you will be able to voice your opinions on the matters of election and sortition at the convention, and thereby influence whether the future laws of Cheliax employ them. I am sympathetic to your concern for leaving your work. You may collect the stipend due to you as a delegate each day of the convention by displaying your arcane mark at the temple of Abadar. Once I've put it on you, that is - do you have a preference for where I apply it?"

"I am Favorably Disposed towards any Method that would Select me, naturally."

She holds out her left hand nonchalantly.

"Though it would perhaps be Well to select a Member of the Bar for an Assembly on Matters of Law by Deliberate Intention, rather than by Pure Chance. Nonetheless it has worked for the Weal of the Realm in the end. Certainly many of my Erstwhile Colleagues would have been Ill-Chosen despite having Higher Seniority on those Rolls. And who am I to ask after for Renewals of this Mark? I can scarcely rely on Applying my Own to the same Effect, unless it be Registered somehow perhaps."

Ione touches Lluïsa's hand and marks her as a constitutional delegate.

"Your expertise in the practice of law will surely be of great benefit to the proceedings, and I hope you give them good counsel. Should your mark fade before the convention concludes, Mssr. Cotonnet will be presiding, and you may receive renewals from him. Or his wife or myself, should we happen to be in attendance at the time, I suppose."

Hmm. That's more than a little intimidating.

"Then I am Summoned and have Accepted that same Summons. I shall write Letters to the Palace with any further Requests, unless there be a Specific Address fixed for such Inquiries, in which case I would desire to know it. At any rate this will likely prove a Boon for my Practice and you have my Thanks for delivering said Summons."

Hm. Do we have a specific address for inquiries about the convention? It would probably have been a good idea.

"You're very welcome. If you have any further questions, you may write to the palace, but be sure to indicate that it is on the matter of the convention and that you are a delegate, to ensure it does not escape notice."

That will hopefully do.

"Though you were not a Prospective Client, your visit has been Welcome all the same."

"Thank you. Have a good day, and I hope your time at the convention goes well."

With that, she walks out the door. Just outside, Varanthe peels himself out of the shadow of the building, then lifts her up and flies away.

She takes a few moments to relax, then calmly returns to what she was writing and spends a good twenty minutes finishing the work, setting the royal summons to the side.

Then she cleans up and files the project, taking the royal summons with her.

She heads to the back of the filing room and removes a file, thin but present, for a certain client. The Crown.

A new divider goes in, then the royal summons.

Let the partners see if they have the courage to draft a bill, if they turn up alive and return! For now this is sufficient, though it'll be best to supplement it with notes as well.

This is a summons, and it doesn't give the option of refusal, and is in many ways stronger than signing an engagement; who refuses the Queen? Any Queen.

And the rest of the day, and much of the night, is spent in the library, a pile of shorthand notes growing rapidly.

And in the morning, she has knock, once, and enters the partners' office, and leaves,

wearing a hat.