"- evening. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Dolça has like four different voices for customers. This isn't one of them- it's low, matter of fact, and definitely not seductive. "You know what we're about, right? You've seen us doing our business. Bru here- he keeps guard, you know what I mean."

"I've seen you, but I'm not in the business and my mum doesn't pay me to scope out the competition."

"Thing is, I hear a lot, maybe of what people are about- not saying about anyone doing anything in particular, mind, but I hear things." She raises an eyebrow.

She glances around the room. "And you know Bru, he sees a lot. Guarding. So maybe he sees some palace guards picking up that girl, Victoria, right? And that feels like something you might wanna know. Being in the same business."

"That is good to know, for sure. You in the market for a spot indoors? I could write you a letter."

She glances at Bru. That's certainly of interest, but we don't want him to get the idea that he's not essential anymore.  "Got a pretty good thing going here." 

"Handful of silver catch your fancy better, then?" He rummages in his purse.

"Now that's always welcome. The usual thing? We weren't here, and don't know nothing?"

"You weren't here and if you wanted to find me for some reason you would certainly look here first." Clink.

Dolça nods, spills it into her hand, gives exactly half to Bru, and pulls him out the door. If they're cleaning house, best to go to the bank before anything else. Beyond Bru's fees, she hasn't touched her delegate income. Calistria's ok for a god, but Dolça's true love is always Abadar. 

Raimon goes -

- to the post office.

It is perfectly reasonable to pick up a side job while the convention's suspended. If they aren't looking for him, then there's nothing suspicious about this at all, and if they are, he will be halfway to Egorian by midnight.

Raimon and his bags of mail and a Mount take off at speed out of Westcrown.

Alright, she's got five minutes between meetings, time to deal with the other Calistrian. Alter self, greater scrying, teleport, dominate person.

Come here, do not resist, do not attempt to escape, accept the teleport.

- okay, he'll steer the horse over there, then. "What about my mail? I've got a bag of mail here bound for Egorian, you know, and a reputation."

...You know what, fine, the mail's important. Teleport the two of them to the Egorian post office.

Ironic little bow. He turns it in and there's some rigamarole with signatures.

Don't pick up a return bundle, though, she's a busy woman. Teleport to the jail, adjust the dominate, (Turn yourself in, don't try to escape, don't attempt to harm anyone by any means including magic) dimension door back to the palace.

...She's a little late for her next meeting, but oh well. Can't be interfering with the post!

"Hi, I appear to be enchanted, are you expecting me or is this as much of a fun little surprise for you as for me?"

Yeah sometimes Her Majesty's wizards are like that.

"Uhhh, what's your name and what crimes were you arrested for?"

"Name's Raimon and wouldn't you know it, she didn't actually say. Perhaps she's got the wrong man. There's lots of Raimons."

"Alright, well, come this way and we'll put you in a cell until we figure out which Raimons are wanted for crimes right now and which one you might be."

"Docile as a lamb," agrees Raimon, and he goes and sits in a cell.