And it's a good thing you taught them a lesson when you did. Because the next day, the Condesce had new orders for all agents. Engaging the Nobles was thereafter strictly forbidden. No more sabotage, assassination attempts, any of that good stuff. Not until the heiress' wriggling day. Then all bets are off. Who's the heiress and what's a wriggling day, you asked. The heiress is the Maid. Ok you said. And her wriggling day? That's just her birthday, but phrased in alien. Like the anniversary of the day she was spawned, with cake and all that jazz. Come on, use your brain. Alright, got it, you said.
Anyway, that's tomorrow.
Your guess is the orders came down from her boss, who from what you've gathered, is even more of a headcase than your presently incarcerated superior. When she starts kicking up a fuss, yelling at people, forking any poor slob unfortunate enough to make a misstep while grooming her hair, you know too well that's the frustration of an exasperated first officer. Would almost make you feel sympathy for the witch, if you, like she, weren't clinically psychopathic.
She's never copped to it, but you just know she's got some schemes on the side. Every good right hand is gonna have something up its sleeve, some sort of contingency plan the boss doesn't know about. Trust you on that one. She's cooking something. It probably has something to do with the new prisoner she reeled in. You don't know what she wants with the girl yet, but she's always got something cooking. Or baking. Whatever. The point is, the woman spends a lot of time in the kitchen.