How dreadful… to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules.
— Caroline Stevermer, Sorcery & Cecelia: or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot

Associations: Order or the lack of it; use of energy; feeling fenced in; paranoia; vulnerability; isolation…

It didn’t take much.
A few words in the right ears, a little push here and there, the right perfume and a dress to kill for. Glances just significant enough to mean something and yet mean nothing. Plausible deniability. Layers of it.
I’m good at what I do. Very good.

By the time Patel enters the room, the rumor’s made its rounds. You can see it in the frozen smiles and the little hush that dips into the crowd when he walks in. The sidelong looks and whispered questions that pass between folks who don’t think they’re being watched. The sense of weight that comes from scrutiny.

Patel can feel it too.
The welcoming smile on his face loses some of its sincerity. The average person wouldn’t note that, but I do. His cautious scan of the room, practiced enough to be almost undetectable, hides behind a veneer of cheerful celebration. It’s a tough crowd now, though, and he knows it. The flicker in his eyes just might be the start of panic.

It was a lovely party, but it’ll soon be time to go. My work here is through.