Siesta spins in shock. When she sees him, her face lights up, before quickly filling with worry.

With a nervous glance in the direction of Mott's study, Siesta hurries over to let him in.

"Hey." Hug? "Are you all right?"

"Raafi!"

Slightly surprised hug!

"What are you doing here?"

"It sounded like you might need a rescue. We haven't figured out what to do about your contract, though."

If this were an anime, Siesta's eyes would be sparkling.

But, "I don't think there's anything you can do," she says sadly. "The Count is well within his rights to do as he likes with me. I'd hoped to stay with the academy, but it seems fate had other ideas."

"Sweetheart, nobody has the right to that. It doesn't matter what they've paid. Even if there's nothing we can do about it that doesn't make this okay."

Siesta just shakes her head and smiles at him like he's something precious.

"I wish it worked like that."

"I know. I'll work on it." He sighs. "We'll ask around, see if we can figure out something to do, maybe there is something. And - I can check on you. Every day, if you want. And if you ask me to come and get you out, I will."

Siesta shakes her head, even sadder now.

"I can't just run away. I still have ten months left on my contract, and, my family needs the money I send them."

"I know. And if this is the best you can do... gods. But if you change your mind you should have a way to leave. Even if I can't do anything else I can do that."

Before Siesta can reply, the door opens.

Mott blinks at the sight of Raafi sharing personal space with Siesta. Siesta springs away from Raafi guiltily, inadvertently putting herself between him and the balcony exit.

Mott sneers, indignant. "You dare trespass on my hospitality in my own household?! Guards!"

Four lightly armored men come in to flank Mott and hold Raafi at spear-point.

He tries for the balcony, but - Siesta. Shouldn't teleport. Casts Fly, maybe he can get over Siesta and to the balcony anyway-

"Halt!"

Mott brandishes his scepter.

A pair of vases framing the exit suddenly lurch sideways, spilling twin streams of water. The streams strike like snakes, catching Raafi before he can make it through the doorway and slamming him downward.

Ow.

The spear-men surround him, pointing their spears at him from a safe distance. They all look supremely nervous. They saw him fly. Whatever else he's doing, that makes Raafi a noble. Their current orders conflict directly with a life-time of 'knowing' that a commoner must never draw steel on a noble.

Mott himself steps forward, waving his scepter again. The water pinning Raafi down turns into ice.

"One of you fetch this miscreant's master," Mott orders. "To think, she would have the nerve to send her familiar skulking about after I was so accomodating. I think you both need a lesson in patience."

As Mott goes to raise his scepter again, Siesta throws herself in front of him and goes down on her knees, pleading. "W-Wait, please! Raafi meant no harm! Please don't hurt him! I swear, I'll serve you to the best of my ability, in, in all ways. Just please forgive this!"

Mott stops. He looks down at Siesta like he's actually considering her words.

Raafi stands, the ice shattering and falling away as he does, and hovers just an inch or so off the floor, staring Mott down. "I'm fine, Siesta. There's no need for that."

The spear-men stumble back a few steps, even more nervous now, while Siesta startles and looks at Raafi with trepidatious hope.

Raising his scepter warily, Mott bristles. "What business of yours is any of this?!" he demands.

"Siesta is Scyelen's friend. She wants to see her safe and well and treated honorably, not -" he gestures vaguely- "like this. Taken by someone without even the decency to be honest."

He's disgusted by the man, and he lets it show, a bit, as a sort of confident superiority; he's been rising very slowly as he speaks, too, not enough to be very obvious but enough to intimidate a little.

Mott scoffs. "Accusing me of dishonesty? Spare me your wild imaginings. I am well within my rights to take a commoner girl into my household, and I am well within my rights to vest those under me with whatever duties I see fit. What have I to be dishonest about? The maid will have a better life here than most others of her status could hope to attain."

"Just like the last two, I'm sure. I think we'd rather see her take her chances back at the academy."

Just then a guard arrives, politely escorting a nervous, shame-faced Scyelen.

Mott glances back and seems pleased with this fortunate timing. "And why ought I care what the two of you would rather see, hm? Especially after such rudeness."

"Perhaps we can make it worth your while."

Mott considers this, and then smirks. "You would have to make it quite worth my while..." he says leadingly.

This guy is so gross.

"Do you have something in mind."

Mott turns his attention on Scyelen for a moment.

"Tell me, you share classes with the Zerbst heir, do you not?"

Scyelen blinks. "Kirche? I... I do, yes."

Mott relaxes a bit, backing up so he can address them both. "There is a particular exotic artifact, an heirloom of the Zerbst family that I have long coveted. They call it the Summoned Book. If you were to acquire this item and deliver it into my hands, I would be willing to return Siesta to the academy in exchange."