She nods. "It's heartening to think we're all united in doing our duty to Queen and Country, and that we'll see it free in our lifetimes of unwanted foreign interlopers."

Maybe he'll even get out of Hell somehow. Lluïsa doesn't particularly expect to, and isn't particularly able to muster together a fully-formed desire to. At least Hell has devils.

"Hear, hear. I appreciate the consultation, bear my name in mind should you need anything I can supply." And he sees himself out.

This fascinating puzzle would be so much easier to turn over if she could just call a devil or two. Lluïsa contemplates briefly why she hasn't just killed herself to go to Hell... oh, so that's where the desire to avoid it was lurking. How undignified.

Oh well, there's things to draft.

Experiences! Her maid knocks, and then stands well back, very hesitant about the look of the building. Lucía hasn't managed to figure out a way to make her lightning knock on a door without making sooty black lichtenberg figures on it, but it's only a matter of time. 

It'll either be another interesting character or, finally, a rube to awe with legalese. Lluïsa finishes a sentence and goes to answer the door, angling her hat a bit for the precious extra inches of height.

"Hello, hello, old client or new?" she asks with a smile that definitely isn't overstretched and offputting. "Not one of mine or I'd have seen you before. Or is it... Convention business?"

At least it's a short interesting character, thank Mephistopheles.

"That's such a splendid hat!" she says, with a smile, getting down from her little thundercloud, presently a few feet off the ground. "I'm a Delegate to the Convention-" she waves her scroll about, "-having the honor of being the Condesa de Halmyris- but I'll be glad to pay for good advice anyway! It is in such short supply!" 

"Please, do come in. It's a pleasure to meet so many fellow delegates ahead of the Convention, and to see the great seriousness with which that laudable Assembly is treated."

In she goes, almost not flinching internally at breaching the inviolate client reception room once again. Mortals are inconstant, adaptable creatures, changing with each turn of circumstance; it's one of their great failings.

Lucía doesn't comment on the client reception room, seeing it as her due, her maid following her inside, and sits down in the best chair, as if it is her due. 

"My name is Lucía Velacruz i Montemayor, and I- I don't mind telling you- don't know how to write a Constitution."

She smiles. "However, I do know what I want out of it. I want as much out of it as I could possibly get, politically, financially and personally".

She fiddles with an earring. "It seems to me, that if I was to arrive at the convention with a proposal already made to that effect, that would entirely be to my advantage. I don't want a document of evil- it is perhaps now where the country is going. But there must be many ways to have a country. Many ways for people to be."

She looks at Lluïsa meaningfully.

"I'd like you to tell me what can be done, should be done, to make sure that my rights of wealth and nobility are protected, and that I, or my class, conde, get as much as a say, as possible."

"How should a constitution look, in order to provide that, and still be acceptable to the commons and the priests and the wizards and the merchants?" She counts in her head, and colors slightly. "And the Queen- of course." She coughs, embarrassed.

"Is that something that would be within your powers? And in return- well, I would pay."