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“So!” Loria gave us a big smile. “We’re honoured that you’re considering the Blackgrass for your event. Now, we are just putting the finishing touches on a three-day conference that starts tomorrow, so the space is set up a little differently to how you’ll want it, but…” Her eyes darted to me. “As you were so eager to see it as soon as possible, hopefully you can look past the layout to take in the room’s full potential.”

“Of course.” I gave her a brief smile. Did she think I was an amateur? I did this all the time.

“We have a fantastic starting point, of course.” She touched var Rorik’s arm lightly with red-painted claws. “The room is beautifully designed. Now, if you’ll follow me…”

I eyed her as she turned to lead us into the conference room. Did people really care this much about the architecture of a building? How beautiful could a conference room be? I’d seen the pictures online. Sure, it looked spacious. And it had… doors and windows. But it was just a big square room.

Rows and rows of chairs had been set up facing an erected stage, and several staff members were bustling around as we entered the room. I eyed it critically, looking past the pop-up banners detailing the three-day marketing conference and the empty tables covered in black cloth that were likely for coffee and pastries.

It had big windows that would give great views of the city at night, and the recessed bar area tucked to our left was tasteful, if not a little small. The floors were a smooth, highly polished black wood, and the walls were painted a deep blue.

It was nice, but it wouldn’t work. It didn’t look big enough. The bar area definitely wasn’t big enough. It looked too corporate, and I specifically remembered Corva hinting at wanting something less corporate for this event. Flashy but tasteful.

“What’s the room’s capacity?” I asked Loria.

“Max capacity is two-fifty, but around two hundred is a more comfortable number,” she answered smoothly.

I frowned, looking down at the notes on my tablet. “We might be pushing it with the numbers.”

“What do you mean?” var Rorik asked immediately.

“In your initial email, you said the guest list would sit at around two-forty.” I turned to look at him. “How many are you expecting to attend?”

“What?” He made a face. “All of them. Why wouldn’t they attend?”

I kept my face carefully blank as I stared up at him, before giving a slight nod. “Alright. Well, I’m a little worried that they might feel cramped, especially with tables and seating.”

“But max capacity is two-fifty. We’ll be under that, so it’ll be fine.” He waved a hand, then nodded at the bar area. “Let’s look at the bar.”

As he sauntered off, Lipa trailing behind him, I fell into step beside Loria.

“What’s your policy on open flames?” I asked her, making sure my voice was loud enough for him to hear.

He froze, shoulders hunching before he whirled around to glare at me.

“Open flames?” Loria asked hesitantly.

I nodded at var Rorik. “Mr var Rorik has requested flaming—”

“Candles,” he blurted. “We… we want candles on the tables.”

“Oh. Well, we prefer that enclosed lanterns are used to mitigate any fire risks…”

“Would you be happy with lanterns, Mr var Rorik?” I asked him politely.

His nostrils flared. “Yes. That’s fine.”

“Okay then.” I smiled at Loria. “Lanterns it is.”

Half an hour later and var Rorik had officially taken over the meeting. He kept interrupting me to fire off questions at Loria. I was pretty sure it was just because he wanted to hear her gush over the “gorgeous” high ceilings and “stunning” views and “intricate yet modern” details on the doorframes.

Eventually, she offered to show him the bar again—him, not us. The two of them wandered off as Lipa and I continued around the space, and I accosted a random staff member to ask some of the questions I’d been unable to finish asking Loria, thanks to var Rorik.

“What do you think, Lipa?” I asked once the flustered staff member had scurried off.

She pursed her lips as she glanced around, before checking that her boss was still distracted over by the bar—he was—and lowering her voice to say, “I don’t think it’ll work.”

I grinned at her. “Me neither. You go first.”