Anselme glowered at the memo on his screen as if it were a personal slight against him. Opposite him, his new partner’s desk remained empty, as it apparently would for the remainder of the week. The golden branch branded his breast from where it sat enrobed in a fresh silk kerchief the colour of thistle. He could not unsee the way he had dented it the night before, and he could only hope its owner would not be so observant and have its every curve memorised. What could he say to excuse himself if she did notice? He would have to come up with something sensible by the time he saw her again. He knew gold was a heavy metal, but the weight it inflicted on him at each poke defied all physical laws. 

A knock at the door announced the arrival of an uninvited visitor whose ID verification on the inside of the muted matte grey glass confirmed it to be the woman he knew he would have to deal with sooner or later but would never be in the mood to.

“Come in,” he commanded, allowing the door to unlock and admit Signifer Azarola. Toggling the controls for…