Numerous candidates have been brought forth to fill the ranks of the new Queen's guard. Those with the most experience and proven loyalty through her mother's reign for the most part kept their slots - leaving a single one up to personal preference. The candidates being put forth are both promoted via their renown amongst the nobility and the common people.
Queen Josephina Gisele Titanos must make the right decision for the people of Illéa even if some of the noble houses that have begun to swarm the young orphaned queen may not agree with her choices. With most of her actions being kept from public eye, her decision to make Ser Aiden Morrow the final member of her elite guards is highly scrutinized. Having previously been believed to be nothing more than a passing joke amongst the [i proper] knights, some of the other knights urged against Queen Josephina from finalizing her choice and alerting the world who her newest guard is.
Despite their concern, Queen Josephina promotes Ser Aiden Morrow from a lowly hedge knight to a high ranking member of her court. For there is a well hidden secret about our poor orphan Queen Josephina, she is far from helpless. Where as most can see Queen Josephina donning her elegant silk gowns among several perfectly crafted noble gatherings, none see her during the highly extensive combat training. Nor the long hours spent studying and practicing magical arts. The reason for this is because those in royalty have an expertly trained puppet to take their place should the event arise.
For Queen Josephina the need arises often.
Why does the queen train so had? To be able to act with her guards as an elite striking team, reckoning all they can and striking the nearby enemy kingdoms without them knowing, without them realizing what has happened. Why do you ask? For generations Illéa has been a prosperous kingdom, flourishing where others have struggled, expanding into unknown lands, previously thought to be lost to the wilds long ago, but in recent years Illéa has ben plagued by a disease that scientists have yet to find a cure for. The same disease that took the previous monarch far too young from the world.
Now at the mere age of 19, how will our Queen Josephina Gisele Titanos and Ser Aiden Morrow navigate this plague filled world?
You don't have permission to post in this thread.
The moment Doctor Willow and Ser Addison enter the room; the room seems to become a bit warmer. Ser Addison also excelling at fire magic allows the room to return to a semi normal temperature, if the ac was still on rather high. [#cd5c5c [b “Your Grace?”]] Doctor Willow says in a soft voice, approaching the Queen and kneeling before her. Dame Cresal nods in response, glancing back at Josephina and seeing that what little recognition was there had left her again.
Doctor Willow softly takes Josephina’s hand in his and puts their fingers against the location of her artery in her wrist. [#cd5c5c [b “Vitals appear to be fine, just a significant decrease in body temperature. A clear shift in the magical component of her system. Based on the strength of her pulse it’s not a permanent one. We need to get her to the medical wing for further examination though. Ser Aiden if you wouldn’t mind picking her up and carrying her.”]] They say, pulling the pencil out of their hair, allowing their long golden hair to fall in waves around their slender frame. They pull some paper off the queen’s desk and begins to write something down as Dame Cresal follows shortly behind. Ser Addison falls into line behind Ser Aiden, hand remaining on the hilt of his sword as they follow.
The walk to the medical wing is a short one, and within a few silent minutes of walking they are entering into the private examination room for the royal family. Doctor Willow gestures to the bed and simply begins to pull things out of the cabinets, clearly already knowing what would be needed to attend to the Queen. [#daa520 [i “Cresal, go alert the remaining guard to this development. We will need to make sure they are up to date. Also Retrieve Maven from her chambers, she will also need to be briefed on this change.”]] Ser Addison says, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder, truly showing just how small her frame is in comparison to the senior member of the guard.
He turns his attention to Ser Aiden, [#daa520 [i “We will need you to take first shift of guarding the Queen as we work out a proper course of action based on the development. It’s likely that she will want to depart as soon as Doctor Willow allows for her to, we need to make sure that is still a secure plan and her illusion magic is still reliable enough to allow such a venture. If not, Ser Oak will also be accompanying you on your journey.”]] Ser Addison says pulling him to the side and speaking to him in a low voice.
Dame Cresal works quickly, making her way to the typical location of the other members as quickly as she can.
The moment she is in Ser Aiden’s arms, the heat radiating off of his body flows through her, causing discomfort from the intensity of the temperature difference. Her head rest against his chest, as she remains limp in his arms. The lack of control she has over her current state infuriates her. This was not anywhere close to what she wanted to happen. She is supposed to be a Phoenix, not a melting snow flake.
The feeling of the bed beneath her, and the muffled sounds of the different people in the room speaking causes Josephina to try and stir. She needs to know what’s happening, but the only thing she can hear is the soothing sound of Doctor Willow as they put an IV in her arm. The level of blankets on top of her brings a bit of a comfortable heat back into her body, but she still remains cold. Her eyes refuse to open, and before long she’s pulled into a deep slumber, unable to fight any longer.
A series of pulsating tendrils cast themselves outward along the width of Ser Thomas' right bicep. The origin point proved a commonality, one which his eyes instinctively sought to find. His eyes reacted lazily to the form of on the the Queen's Fire. Her proximity had been neither anticipated nor noted - not in his effort to regain his Josephina. Light exhales of breath flowed from Dame Cresel's nostrils like an insiduous vapor and it did not take him long to notice his own forward stream of hot air... like a geyser that had been too-long halted from release.
Unintentionally depriving himself of air, Ser Thomas took in what would otherwise be a calming breath. The cold spread down his throat and into his lungs; he momentarily feared it would overtake his heart as well. He could not allow that. He had to act. Luckily, the Dame readily provided him with a course of action. She was cogent, if not a bit patronizing.
Only as he bypassed Ser Aiden en route to the door did he notice that the third knight had been intent on utilizing force to pry the Queen from her seeming captor's grasp. For all the Young Lion had accomplished this day, there was small wonder. His emotions had gotten the best of him. His composure had been cyclically built and abandoned, the inconsistency causing a breaking of someone dearest to him. The hope of redemption kept his pace hurried, the cold like a skin-pricking reminder upon his hands of his misdeed. What had he done to his lovely Josephina?
Recognition returned to the Queen's eyes after a stint. The woman appeared before them in body, but her vessel was completely devoid of spirit. The room appeared a sorry affair, sprinkles of snowfall falling to the ground with great haste. The floor seemed to consume the downpour, altering its appearance with darkened shades of dotwork. It all reminded Ser Aiden too much of the mountain ranges across the Borderlands. Too much of nights spent hidden in caves, nestled into furs and up against a fire with someone no longer living. The cold and snow reeked of death.
"You have a lot on your plate," the knight pointed out with great candor. "It can't be easy - a kingdom on the brink of war, the recent loss of your mother, your seemingly turbulent dalliance with Ser Thomas. It's really too much. You should consider resolving one matter before addressing the others, if at all possible. In fact, I suggest a pleasant stroll through the Borderlands."
Ser Aiden gave the Queen a self-humoring grin. She had already made quite clear her intent to avenge her mother's murder. Aspa was only a few days ride, even from the Illean capital. If she had so much energy to devote to personal crisis, she could very well channel it to mitigating them. The capital was truly the last place she was of use. Her current state would likely only worsen - something was eating at her, corrupting her. The knight wanted to make sure it was expelled both effectively and practically.
Two figures approached the door - or, rather, the lack thereof - with some hesitancy. The poor wooden slate had been completely ripped from its hinges by a single kick. . No one could claim that magic would have done a better job unless it had hit Ser Thomas whilst avoiding the Queen. Ser Aiden would have to ask if Dame Cresel could have accomplished such a feat - her control of magic seemed exquisite, bar few he'd ever encountered. Ser Thomas' lack of return was met with a nod of approval. Best he keep away, lest he make the situation worse. The Queen needed solutions, not more problems.
There is a brief moment of shock when Ser Aiden finds his way in front of Cresal and kicks the door open. He’s new, so he isn’t aware of the typical formation for entry, so she doesn’t allow it to phase her in this moment. The sound of Aiden’s threat falls on deaf ears, for it’s immediately apparent that something is rather wrong with the Queen.
Time seems to slow down, as it always does, when Cresal surveys the situation. The sight of both Ser Aiden and Ser Thomas’s breath in the air, the indented yet lack of color transformation from where Ser Thomas’s hands grip Queen Josephina’s arms. The slight discoloration around the rims of both Ser Thomas and Queen Josephina’s eyes. The very apparent change in the Queen indicating a shift in the magic in her veins. The way Ser Thomas is pleading with Queen Josephina indicates that the change wasn’t directly correlated with something he said, more so something he likely didn’t.
After the few seconds it takes for Cresal to survey the scene, she immediately springs to action, putting herself between Ser Aiden and Ser Thomas, [i [#f91606 “Aiden, don’t.”]] is all she says before the electricity all but disappears from her hands. She turns towards Ser Thomas and places a delicate hand on his arm, allowing just enough electricity to remain flowing through her hands to jolt him into acknowledging their presence. [i [#f91606 “Ser Thomas, go fetch Ser Addison and Doctor Willow, she is safe with us, but she needs to be seen immediately. You are the best to explain what happened so you need to go get them, can you do that?”]] Cresal says, no longer talking to Ser Thomas as though they are similar in age, but as if he were a child, needing to be brought back to reality.
Cresal turns her attention immediately away from Ser Thomas and towards Queen Josephina, taking Ser Thomas’s previous location in holding her up. When she manages to take Josephina from Thomas, she effortlessly moves her to the window seat, trying to sooth the frozen statue which has formed in her place.
Josephina watches as Ser Thomas rises from his seat and comes over to her, despite her protest otherwise. She takes a step back, trying to keep him from touching her, but she is simply not quick enough. The moment his hands grip onto her arms, a strong burning flows from his hands, searing her with his body heat. Surely he hadn’t always been this warm, had he? Had she simply been so unaware of his heat before? The sight of his breath filling the space between them, where hers does not, answers her question. It is not that he has grown hotter, but that she has simply lost all of her own heat.
The way he tries to speak to her, begging her to return to herself, to come back to him, to wake up, to talk to him, it falls on deaf ears. The sensation of her body being shaken is dull and far off, like she couldn’t be truly connected to the physical form he was holding. The physical appearance of this disconnection comes in the form of unfocused eyes and limply handing limbs. She can see the red rimming his eyes, the desperation and determination filling his soul, but can’t seem to fully grasp the reality of what’s happened.
Suddenly Dame Cresal has taken the place of Ser Thomas, and she is no longer standing but sitting on the window seat, staring mindlessly at Ser Aiden. The heat of Dame Cresal holding her up on the window seat is far easier to bare than Ser Thomas’s. She runs colder, has she always run colder?
[#7fffd4 “What a pitiful Queen I make, unable to make it through a single day of events without falling to pieces.”] She says in a whisper of a tone, but given the silence in the room, loud enough for the two remaining in the room to hear. The slightest trickle of snow begins to fall in the room, seemingly out of nowhere.
The surrounding air is brought to an sudden chill; a relentless cold snap that shows no intent of departure aggressively claims the room under its dominion. Its stranglehold only tightens as the Queen ushers forth a series of orders and congratulations. Her voice lacks any audible sincerity, her words formalized to perfection but delivered not to an individual. She spoke as if addressing an invisible crowd. She spoke as if eyes followed her every movement. No action was above scrutiny.
[i “Ser Thomas, I would like to thank you for your diligent service and kindness all these years. If there is something I can do to return such kindness feel free to ask.”]
The distance between them had been solidified, distance made manifest with the air of the magic of frost and bone-chilling cold. As if to announce her new allegiance, the Queen before his very eyes took on an appearance akin to legends of old. The most accomplished magic-users were always paragons of one stripe, eventually completely embodying their preferred output. The magic that had always resided in their blood was catalyzed and molded to embody their new form.
But Josephina had always been a creature of fire, a pervading ember in search of kindling. She had always been quick to spark, impossible to extinguish. She had radiated joy and love - and sought them in kind; the two forces proved her constant companions. But now... she was emptiness incarnate. A solitude pervaded from her form, now encapsulated in white and veiled in hair made silver where it had once shone copper. Perhaps someone would have found her immensely beautiful, but Ser Thomas had fallen in love with the woman that had inhabited the body before.
This individual coveted no affection; they instead buffeted him with aggression. The snow, once a childhood reverie for the approaching of a new season, was now hardly enchanting. The Queen's words clamored against the walls and echoed with a hollow ring. The roaring licks of flame now sharpened into stalagmites - swords of frost if he'd ever beheld such a thing. For the first time in a long time, Ser Thomas felt fear. But a lion did not cower - it led.
Ser Thomas found himself gifted with an abundance of freely-given knowledge. It was almost surprising that the woman have so much detail as to the justification of her decision. She hardly seemed defensive - more thoughtful that anything. Dame Cresel made expressely sure that the new member of the Queen's Fire carried no delusions of his expected commitment. He may be burdened with the protection of the kingdom's most important figure, but her protection did not need rest on all of the guards all the time. The group operated as a cohesive unit, sharing burdens the likes of which others could not be entrusted to carry. They almost sounded like a proper family; he felt himself becoming enraptured with the idea.
The open-secret amongst the guard came to the knight with a bit of difficulty. Ser Thomas represented this generation's ideal of knighthood. He was from a family whose renown was known even across shires that demanded none of their protection, but received it well enough in times of war. No doubt they had risen to further prominence with the efforts against Aspa. It should have hardly been surprising... but the knight concluded he had previously thought Queen Josephina above such predictable action. She could have easily had her pick above such superficiality.
A high-pitched scream, clear as crystal and as punctuating as glass rung throughout the corridor. The fluctuation of pitch was accompanied by a disturbing show of electrical surge. The two knights reacted in tandem, Dame Cresel seeming to channel a portion of the surrounding current. Its spark was well-contained in her hands, snapping out in minimalistic fashion until likely cast from her fingertips. In comparison, Ser Thomas felt the drawing of his sword and knife far less impressive.
The door to the study was flung open by a swift kick from Ser Thomas, his form rushing in the room to provide some distraction from Dame Cresel. No doubt she could handle herself, but the novelty of being newly-appointed left Ser Thomas with a feeling of needing to prove himself. Hopefully he had appeared decisive rather than reckless to his fellow companion. Expecting a threat, his eyes settled upon one as soon as his skin was punctured by it. The scene struck like a slap to the face and stung about as well. The Queen, or, rather, who could only be assumed the Queen was a tempest of frost-casting turmoil. Her arms were being tightly squeezed, her form contained by a frantic Ser Thomas. He shook the Queen with about as much delicacy as one would a warfriend.
[#93DB70 "Unhand her, or I'll relieve you of your hands," Ser Aiden shouted over the cataclysmic cold.]
It was almost like a game, sitting there and watching as he feigns following her direction, only to create an intimate space between the two of them. A flutter in her chest brings forth nothing but pain in this moment, with the warmth of his hand touching her noticeably cold cheek. His words of knowledge bring forth a coy desire to tease and be flirtatious with him in this moment. A shadow of the person she had previously been.
Holding his eyes, the tears she had choked down for so long threaten to rise out of her, to come to the surface and allow her to feel a pain she’s ignored. A response to his comment on the tip of her tongue, the closeness of his body before hers pulls a strong desire to share her pain, to allow this one person she’d treasure for so long in to see the pain she feels.
The way he draws back so quickly, refers to her as [i “Your Grace”] causes the cold to fill her once again, ending the warmth that pulls at the person she once was.
She glances down, unable to look at much of anything through the blurred vision that’s formed. The temperature drops significantly as she steels herself and brings a quick end towards the tears that had begun to choke her.
[#0000cd “You are rather correct; you do seem to know me rather well. This observation of my choice on elevating Ser Aiden’s position is in fact an accurate one. This is a secret you mustn’t share with anyone. As you know, while I am gone, Maven will act as my stand in, attending to all of the things that I am intended to do. If you could make this transition an easy one for her I would greatly appreciate it.”] She says, picking up her comm and looking through the itinerary she has for the next few weeks. [#0000cd “I’ll send you the list of the events in which I am to attend. Maven is excellent at being me, she understands my mannerisms, she knows how I hold myself, she even knows the way my speech fluctuates in certain circumstances, but when it comes to making choices, your direction on those matters may be necessary. I would appreciate the assistance on such things.”] She states typing in and sending him the list.
She leans against the desk, facing away from him and towards the wall, trying to weigh how to properly end this conversation. She pushes off the desk and walks over to a nearby mirror, looking at herself for the first time all day. She notices the emptiness on her face and realizes how simple it had been to see such a thing. [#0000cd “Ser Thomas, I would like to thank you for your diligent service and kindness all these years. If there is something I can do to return such kindness feel free to ask.”] The calm and even tone is the same one she uses while addressing the court.
The cold and even tone stirs something inside of her, something she could never expect or have any reason to believe would occur. The existing fires in the room, the candles, the warmth from the fire place ceases, being blown out by a severe chill. It’s almost as if the air itself has lost all warmth. The electricity flickers as well, threatening to cease their presence as well, but remaining strong.
The severe cold is not the only thing to become immediately noticeable. While holding her own gaze it’s immediately apparent to Josephina that something is rather wrong. A chill surges through her, infecting her very soul. From the pupil in her eyes a frost creeps out, extending and expanding until every trace of amber is washed from her eyes. If only the transformation ended there. The icy transformation rushes through her veins, silencing the last remaining traces of fire through her veins, the magic burns through her, cold. The brilliant reds of her hair goes stark white. The trail of snow white hair begins slowly, few strands trickling and raising out of the perfectly crafted braids, before the entirety of the braids falls apart and her hair bursts out into a blanket of white snow well down her back.
[#7FFFD4 “Get out.”] She says, wrapping her arms around herself and turning her back even further on Ser Thomas. The words come softly at first, but the cold burning through her causes a trickle of snow to begin to fall, and the ice of her words bursting out of her without control [#7FFFD4 “GET OUT!!!”] Ice forms in the place of the previously roaring fires. The pain appearing in Josephina’s eyes is unforgiving and evident, the emptiness has found its way into her soul and formed a block of ice around her heart..
[center [pic http://www.photorodionova.ru/uploads/photogallery/phg545acdd12cbda.jpg]]
As they walk through the hall Cresal can’t help but chuckle a bit at his comment about becoming her pet. The thought of treating him as anything less than an equal hadn’t even crossed her mind. She had been wondering how he would best integrate into their group, but it was evident that he could easily fill the previous roll of Dame Vaella and her humor.
Cresal drops her gaze to the ground and taps her toe against the floor, stopping and leaning against the wall. She takes in his question and looks up a bit, trying to weigh her answer. [#f91606 [i “Wellbeing apart of the Queen’s Fire was always a goal of mine, something I had dreamt of since I was little. You see being head of household is great and all but nothing will be able to compare to the time I spend within this guard. Plus, once we become too old, we have to step down from our position, for the sake of the Queen of course, which means there will be time in the future for running a household. Typically, we end up taking some minor leaves for family related things. For example, when my sister Isabelle got married last year, and when my brother Kalvin was named my mother’s heir, I was there for that. Nothing stops up from being able to go to these things, simply request to the Queen and our current duties.”]] She says with a shrug pulling herself up onto the window ledge.
[#f91606 [i “Also anytime it involves Josie, Ser Thomas has immediately important matters to attend to. Well-kept secret among the guard is that we totally know that they have a fling going on, or had one, not certain if princess shenanigans are continuing now that she’s queen or not. You’ll learn quickly, that the guard likes to gossip among ourselves, especially since we are unable to talk to anyone else about most of the things we know. Ser Addison is the absolutely worst about it, especially being the senior member, He likes to pretend like he’s very above it all most of the time, but he tends to have the best knowledge.”]] She says laughing,
[#f91606 [i “I’m not one for pets though, tend to get fri---“]] the sound of the Queen screaming and the sudden fluctuation of the electrical current running through the building causes Dame Cresal to slip off the windowsill and land in a full sprint, electricity sparking from her outstretched hands as she sprints back to the Queen’s study.
The Young Lion made an open show of following her invitation to sit before her, desk between them. He stepped forth, completely bypassing the left side of the desk and seating himself atop the wooden structure - mere breaths away from the Queen as he leaned forward. His dominant hand found her left cheek soon enough, gently guiding her gaze upwards. His eyes were filled with barely-contained remorse, softened only by a fleeting gaze of affection.
[#990000 "Stop it,"] he beckoned in a hushed tone. [#990000 "I may not have a monarch's mind, but I.... I like to think I know you Josie. You've appointed me to the city watch. You've chosen a Borderlander as a member of your personal guard. I'm no fool... not entirely."]
A quietly-admitted lamentation echoed in particular in his last sentence. But even now and otherwise throughout, his entire body communicated tender endearment. His volume had been evenly kept just above a whisper, just conducive enough given the ever-closing chasm between them. Ser Thomas, let it be consciously or subconsciously, leaned more and more forward at the expiration of each passing sentence. Their greatest secret proved his greatest treasure; above titles, above any possible appointment, he wanted most to remain in her favor.
Within stirred an internal conflict, a roiling ardor that sought to distinguish this moment as public or entirely private an affair. He had already crossed the boundaries of his station. He had placed his hand on his monarch as only her intended king should. He had already spoken to her with a familiarity forbidden by his vow to serve her as a knight and nothing more. A force tugged at his heartstrings, pulled by the mourning in his beloved's eyes.
He wanted to shield their encounter from all but the faintest of moonlight. He wanted to find solace in their secrecy, their figures kept hidden by the complexity and height of the labyrinthine gardens. He wanted to press her body as close at he had nights before the passing of the previous Queen. He wanted the only counter to their shared warmth to be the stone bench, nice and cool as their hands searched for balancing purchase.
[#990000 "Your Grace,"] the knight acknowledged suddenly after his address. He looked to the side, breaking eye-contact, and moving swiftly to take his rightful place across the desk. Stolen kisses with the Princess were one thing... a Queen an entirely other. She should not have assumed their clandestine relationship would continue as it had. After all, perhaps she had already as subtly as possible denied him in making him Captain of the Guard. His mind should have come before the heart.
In earnest truth he would have entirely missed Dame Cresel's presence were it not for her spurring movement forward to engage with him. He initially thought that nothing following another close-proximity encounter with Ser Thomas could bring him to socialize, but his fellow Queen's Fire member piqued his interest well enough. Not only were they part of the same order, but the faintest smell of oil pervaded from the young woman and filled his nostrils. He mentally and emotionally prepared for a friendly, if not overly-enthusiastic, exchange; he already compiled a very questions of his own to counter her's.
[#93DB70 "I've been informed as much as time allowed before Ser Thomas entered. Matter must be important for the new Captain of the City guard to demand an audience."] His tone had an unintentional bite to it, one that his contemporary hardly deserved. He cast a flippant smile and gave a laugh. [#93DB70 "I can hardly deny a senior member, much less a lady, of any requests. Call me what you will. But if you take to adopting me as pet, please refrain from informing the public."]
Was that humor at his expense or unintentional flirtation? The thought crossed Aiden's mind no sooner had his words left his mouth. What was he doing? He'd seen countless warrior women before; why was this one any different? She was a knight, and a lady... she was a [i lady-knight.] Both a paragon of noble and aristocratic ideals; likely as skilled with a weapon as her... mouth? Tongue? Court speech patterns were proving difficult to fully adopt. The fancy phrases served almost intentionally also as double-entrendres. How did anyone get away with such suggestions?
[#93DB70 "You strike a rather notable figure, Dame Cresel,"] he acknowledged with a gesture up and down her form. She was practically a perfect melding of masculine strength and womanly charm. Her attire was tailored in vest, but airy and lacy in the blouse beneath. Her hat was common amongst echelons of mercantile goods and political affairs, only decorated with patterns, branches, and berries abloom. [#93DB70 "You would have made quite the head of a house. What made you decide to be a knight?"]
The warmth of Ser Aiden’s hand resting on her shoulder draws her eyes from the unfocused point beyond the window and up to his eyes staring down at her. The beginning of his sentence reveals something she can’t quite place, but before she can figure out the kind of pain that is evident on his face there is a rapid yet polite knocking on the door.
Ser Aiden is at the door and pulling it open before Josephina is even able to react to who is about to enter. She gracefully turns around and stares at Ser Thomas on his knee before her. Mindlessly she notices that Ser Aiden has also vanished from the room within the same moment. She simply turns around and closes the curtains in the study before settling in the window seat. She holds Ser Thomas’s eyes for a few moments, recalling the last time they had been alone together.
The site of the moon shinning brilliant in the sky above the secluded bench in the maze of the royal garden was one that Josephina has always adored, but the pounding in her chest at anticipation of a secret romantic moment with the only one her heart had ever felt drawn too created a joy unlike any she’d known before.
The beauty of Thomas walking in the moonlight was breath taking, his appearance so ethereal. The precious moments they would steal that night, the sensation of his lips pressing against hers in the brief moments before their departure, the heat that had settled deep within her in those moments, fueling the fire running through her blood for nights to come till they meet again in the secluded corner of their world in the dark of night.
The sight of him before her provides the reminder of that heat, but the persistence of nothingness will not give easy to the feelings of a frivolous child. His words of reprimand sit in silence for a moment as she searches for what to say.
She stands and walks over to her desk [#0000cd “Thomas, I’m not certain what you mean by that. Who would have provided you such inaccurate information? Clearly there is no time for a trip away from our castle when Emperor Aeonis will not give budge to extending the time till the peace talks. I must spend every moment I have available to preparing for these talks, if I do not I may not be able to do our homeland justice.”] she states, gesturing for him to sit down in one of the chairs on the other end of the desk.
[#f91606 [i “The newest addition to the Queen’s fire appears to be around my age, but clearly doesn’t have the typical confidence of a knight. It’s not too unusual that Josie would be so reckless and make a choice that doesn’t have an easy explanation. She isn’t the same since the knight her mom attacked. The wounds healed nicely though. It’s a shame we lost Dame Vaella though, she was always so detailed with her stories. It’s not the same at the tavern without her. Perhaps Ser Aiden will like to go drinking some time.”]] She states, tapping the recording device that resides in her ear to end the newest entry in her journal as she tinkers with another piece of technology just recently issued by their researchers.
The grease coating her hands has become a frequent feature on Cresal, not being present only in the rarest of moments when ceremony calls for such an occasion. She chews on the inside of her cheek as she fights to get a nasty screw out of the item as she tries to reveal the inner workings of the energy conversion weapon. The paper work provided to her had gone into detail about how the weapon is supposed to convert her magical abilities into a bullet of sorts, turning the electric current running through her veins into a shot she can fire at others. It’s supposed to work in a way most would use a staff or a wand, a conduit for her abilities.
Getting a bit too frustrated at the screw she simply lets out a laughing sigh before setting the screw driver down. When she does this, the alarm she set for being able to speak with Ser Aiden after his discussion with Josie goes off. Cresal grabs her bowler hat and puts it on, wiping her hand off on the rag tucked into her belt before heading out of her room/workshop.
Knowing all the secret ways through the castle makes her trip from the Queen’s Fire housing to the Queen’s Study in short time. She leans against the wall on the opposite side from the door, giving her enough time to settle there before Ser Thomas arrives and knocks on the door, she simply stares at him a bit confused.
When Ser Aiden opens the door and the two practically swap spots Cresal pushes off the wall [i [#f91606 “I imagine she’s informed you about our assignment? Did she do the weird face thing? The first time I saw that I was a bit surprised. A lot to take in, but I’m sure you’ll get hang of it quickly Aiden. Is it okay if I call you Aiden?”]] She asks, easily falling into step beside him, her bouncy pace following easily beside him.
The Queen's words are taken in with the careful scrutiny common to the citizens of the marches between Illea and Aspa. Their populations were always first to bear the brunt of war, their territories baring the other country from invasion. With such a tumultuous region to act as home, the fringes of both societies developed a quick call to arms and an even quicker realization of the consequences of failure. Ser Aiden left the Borderlands a clash of technological scavengers and mercenaries and untrained magic-users. As much as the Aspan rebels wanted to use their stolen technology to besiege the Borderlands, so too did the Borderlands covet the introduction of new machinery. This war had already seen dozens of mercenary companies torn through with automated steel-projectiles... and what happened to the sorcerers and sorceresses was a thousand times worse.
Even though it was his Queen's gaze that came to meet his, an entirely different set of eyes were envisioned. Unnatural orbs of volatile blue struck with fractures of shock-white haunted him, pupils wide in panicked fright. The woman screamed a silent cry... and then her body fell limp to the floor. Death pervaded their conversation, each lingering in their loss and rising only with the fuel of their anger. Ser Aiden rises carefully, approaching his monarch with great delicacy - eventually coming to rest a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He stares at her intently, daring for her returned gaze. When it finally came, his grip on her shoulder intensified as he began to speak.
[#93DB70 "We'll make the bastards pay, Your Grace. If it's-."] A knock on the door interrupts the knight's speech, insistent but polite. Ser Aiden ventures to open the door, a fellow knight standing arms folded behind themselves. Even looking at him, Ser Aiden couldn't help but admit that if nothing else... Ser Thomas would have certainly made a more noble and valiant looking member of the Queen's Fire. He mechanically let the other knight enter, Ser Aiden looking back at the Queen with a nod that conveyed his intended departure. They could always speak later - and anyhow, Ser Thomas wasn't a figure he reckoned anyone could deny. Even his resting face was majestic; it made Aiden irrationally want to relieve him of some of his teeth.
[#990000 "Your Grace,"] the Young Lion spoke as he knelt before the woman with a life-long rehearsed elegance. Even kneeling, he was every bit the lion; Ser Aiden found his way out the door quick enough, relieved by his flaring of emotions. As the door came to an almost-silent close, Ser Thomas continued. [#990000 "You're leaving."] It came off as more of an accusation, his eyes daringly meeting his Queen's in open reprimand.
A small smile plays at her lips as he comments on the emptiness that's become routed in her. The sheer fact that he's able to see through the façade she's been putting on brings a bit of warmth to the coldness she'd grown accustomed to. She sets down the comm and listens closely to what he has to say [#0000cd "Well I am pleased to hear of your dedication to our kingdom. I would be lying if I didn't admit that most thought that I would have chosen Ser Thomas. So the fact that I chose you means that I have more faith in your skills and commitment than concerns for public appearance."] She states, holding his gaze with ease.
She stands once again, walking towards the window seat, unable to stop the longing sensation for simpler days that creeps into her heart. She quickly turns on her heel and faces him. [#0000cd "We have been at war with Aspa for far too long already. I do not fear his war. Even if the Emperor himself found us in his lands, he would not be able to recognize us."] A chill falls over the room as he voice becomes hard like ice, the sight of multiple faces forming over Josephina reveals the depth of her magical abilities. [#0000cd "With magic on our side I will be able to hide us from even the most skilled investigators. I've done it plenty of times before. Illusions are my true gift."] She says in a softer tone, recomposing herself and looking back out the window.
[#0000cd "My mother's passing was covered up. The truth of her death was severely under played. She didn't just start to show symptoms, she was already hallucinating in it's full glory, attacking people and hurting herself in the process. She had the Dream Sores. The fact that the emperor will not even allow for proper mourning time of my mother, our Queen, strikes me as odd. They only began to make headway in the war when our people began to fall ill. Too much to merely be a coincidence. Of course without proof I cannot truly do anything about it. Going into the kingdom is the only way to get proof. Though I cannot allow word to spread about my assumptions of the people will demand blood. This knowledge is only known by my trusted few. This is why we risk capture, is to prove that Emperor Aeonis is behind the death of our Queen, after the cease fire had been called. Which would mean that he broke the terms of our agreement and I would be able to respond in kind."] her back remains to him while her eyes stare unfocused out the window. The rage boiling just below the surface is slowly chilled by the endless emptiness residing in her soul.
The late queen's ledgers were chock-full of historical as well as recent events to best describe the current state of affairs within Aspa's ranking nobility. Siberius Aeonis follows the tradition of his fore-bearers, styling himself as Emperor. Before "The Great Migration" , the current empire of Aspa was a collection of smaller demesnes not large enough to bear the status of individual kingdoms. During the creation of Illea, the small "kingdoms" joined ranks with Aeonis, the at-the-time largest region of solidified government. The standardization of rulership proved Aspa's biggest strife following its creation: its emperors contending with a myriad of individual customs, traditions, and legal systems. The people's main commonality became the new regency's greatest pride and binding force: technology. Though magic is not outlawed, the Empire of Aspa can't help but feel negatively towards its usage. With a portion of the continent being formed by its utilization and the lack of open user-availability, technology proves the supreme form of showing both power and intelligence.
Empress Lucretia has been Aspa's leading female figure for six years, wherein she has provided the Emperor with a lovely four-year old girl, Imperial Heiress Euphemia. The Empress stands below the king in political ranking, and has two equals that serve their common superior: Imperial Adviser Cygnus, a trusted adviser and communications specialist, and Mistress Cordelia. The latter has only been recently presented to the general public, announced at court as the Emperor's official paramour a little less than a year ago. It is no secret that the Emperor shares a great love for his Empress, but a growing dissatisfaction has been festering since the birth of their daughter. Should Mistress Cordelia provide the Emperor with a son, it is fully within his legal rights to give preference of inheritance to his male child over his daughter. As such, the two most important women in the Emperor's life are on a time-clock to present him with a male heir; this tactic has proven re-occurring given the Empire's preference for males over females.
Ser Aiden granted swift compliance of the Queen's request to take a seat, though it was taken with the due diligence of a direct order. At the Queen's pulling of his file, the knight eyed the communications devices with a mixture of wariness and suspicion. His primary frame of reference for such screens involved command drones used by the technology-scavenging banditry along the Borderlands. If it weren't for the high security placed on technology and the relative poverty of the Aspan rebels, the body-count of Illean farmers would be no mere speck in population decrease. The thought had the young knight tensing his cheekbones, his back-most teeth firmly pressed against one another in barely-restrained frustration.
[i "You may say no if you do not wish to take this risk, and I will completely understand, your position among my guard does not hinge on this service.”]
[#93DB70 "With all due respect, Your Grace," he'd state with no small amount of certainty. "While my position may not hinge on this service, the preservation of my personal morals does. And, since you have allowed me to speak plainly, I've seen enough faces to see emptiness. It doesn't matter that you're not a water-wench covered in mud, the look remains the same. I would be doing my monarch the gravest disservice before treason itself if I did not undertake the tasks for which I am most suited. And, well.... I'd be lying if I didn't say I was originally expecting to return to the Borderlands and had already given thought to further invasion. And yes, I'm aware if I were to have been caught, it would have been an act of war. But the consequences would not have fallen on you. But... now they might. If I am caught, if Dame Cresel is caught, if you are caught... there will be war."]
The sound of chatter begins the moment the door closes behind the guards, and while Josephina yearns to follow shortly behind, she remains seated, eyes fixated on the comm resting in her hands. The lengthy details on the neighboring kingdom’s nobility and customs settle deep within the Queens knowledge s she searches for something that she didn’t previously know, hoping that her mothers final tasks could help in the upcoming peace talks. She prays for some secret knowledge to be bestowed upon her, that something will finally click and she’ll finally have the answers she’s done her best to ignore since the moment her mother wandered into her chambers muttering out of her mind.
Josephina does her best to push the memories from her mind, but in this moment of silence they come rushing back in. The sound of her bedroom door creaking open, her mother raising her out of sleep calling her Olira and insisting that they had to leave, the fear boiling just under her skin as her mother dragged her through the castle halls in a frantic rush. The stench of burning painted wood and flesh filled the halls for weeks, and the number of lost guards were unthinkable, and the moment she came too, the guilt on her mothers face, the sight of her breaking down and requesting the peaceful death most nobles take when the disease becomes an infliction on their family, her mothers last words haunting her every moment “Stay strong my young phoenix,”
She sets the comm down on the desk and balls her hands into fists, choking the tears before they start. [#0000cd “I am queen, not some lowly girl able to lose herself in despair, I am not the only one who lost her, I can not break down, I cannot cry and I can not lose myself in this pain. There is nothing in these useless notes, I’ve been over them a dozen times an nothing changes, they are useless to me.”] she scolds herself through gritted teeth.
Every waking moment since the moment her mother walked into her room, Josephina had been preparing for the influx of responsibilities that would come into her life, and while she had done extensive research on proper etiquette and has been groomed since birth to take on this role, she always assumed it would be much later in life that such things would occur.
Josephina stands and walks over to the large window seat on the far end of the room and sits down, curling her legs under her and rests her head against the warmed glass. Staring down at the garden and the nobles that have remained to bask in its floral beauty. Memories of long nights roaming the very same garden with Ser Thomas and the long talks that were accompanied by such walks comes to mind. She longs for such simple times, before her father’s death, before the plague reared its ugly head, before the weight of the world found its way to Josephina’s shoulders.
The sound of the door being knocked on brings Josephina to her senses, and despite the tinge of pink coloring her nose, Josephina straighten herself immediately and falls right back into the perfected regal appearance. After a very gracious bow, Ser Aiden stands before her, [i "Your Grace, you honor me with your appointment, And though I am not of a position to judge your actions, I can only bid that you utilize me to best effect. I have no doubt you chose me for a purpose either of my competitors could not fill. I am here for my country, my fellow people, and, of course, my Queen. Shall I swear fealty here or before another court ceremony?"]
Josephina gives him a kind smile [#0000cd “Ser Aiden, upon becoming a knight in general you swore your fealty to this kingdom and those who rule it, therefore such a ceremony s not needed. Please have a seat.””] She says gesturing to the set of chairs positioned in front of the queens desk. She rounds the table and takes her seat as well, turning her comm on as she does so. She pulls his file up [#0000cd “According to this, you were nominated by the people to become a member of the Queen’s Fire, and that since becoming knight you’ve spent a good amount of time on the boarder lands of Illéa and Aspa. I imagine that during this time you’ve had much of a chance to be able to study their technics and skills. There are few things that are kept from our people, but what you are about to hear is one of them. Sharing this information with anyone outside of the Queen’s Fire and myself is treason and the punishment is death.”] She states, holding his eyes with the same dead look on her face since that fateful night all those weeks ago. [#0000cd “I do not simply rule this kingdom by delegating or previously served it as a beautiful princess remaining always in the capital. I rule this kingdom by blending with those go unnoticed, those in the underground portions of our kingdom. I have yet to find my way out of our beloved Illéa, but with the current peace talks coming up and the all too convenient time of my mothers death, I suspect foul play. Due to that fact I intend to infiltrate the heart of Aspa and find out the information I need to prove this. If I can find out how they have done it, perhaps I can also find the cure to save our people. I would like you and Dame Cresal to accompany me on this mission throughout the kingdom, both of your skills make you two uniquely qualified in this mission. You may say no if you do not wish to take this risk, and I will completely understand, your position among my guard does not hinge on this service.”] she states, doing her best to keep her tone even and calm despite the sensation of her blood boiling just beneath her skin.
Ser Aiden rode with a ferocity rivaled by few in his four-day venture to the capital, heart made heavy by his reluctance to abandon the Borderlands. The shifting scenery from mountain-range to farmed countryside proved a benchmark for the expediency of his travels - the sooner he arrived in Cadron, the sooner he could return to fighting back the brigand forces of Aspa. Though he was honored by the people's nomination, he would be a fool to expect open-acceptance amongst the ranks of nobility. His very appointment as knight, along with the surname it granted him, only acted as a reminder of their noble tradition of inheritance... and how he had defied it. He could dress in an armored style and blazon his field with the rising sun and still they'd always see a farmer's son playing pretend.
The knight's palfrey carried him to the capital within the expected amount of days, the gentle creature offering no defiance despite the journey's length. Another rider might have worn their horse to death and she would have run to it in blissful ignorance, such was the loyalty of his beloved Solara. The horse had been his first purchase as a peasant gone mercenary - even before proper weapon and armor. Mobility was paramount, the knight entering through the city's gates as he arrived the evening before the ceremony. He slept at a nearby inn, away from prying eyes, and smiled at himself for the increasing relevance of his motto. In two day's dawn, he would be heading home; perhaps on the way back he'd take the time to enjoy the evolving landscape.
The Queen's court was packed to the brim upon the knight's arrival, his entrance made notable both by his official announcement as present, but also by his perceived tardiness. Most of the nobility had spent the previous hour in heightened anticipation for the Queen's appearance - Aiden spent it polishing his boots and congratulating himself on having the foresight to avoid the crowd for as long as possible. The praise of self however occurred too soon, the eyes of the court raising in curiosity or scrutiny at his lack of social mingling. To make his point entirely clear and openly intentional, he took position closest to the door. Some eyes looked away, pleased at his acknowledgement of quick dismissal as candidate for the Queen's Fire.
[i “Rise for her Majesty, Queen Josephina Gisele Titanos, Fire of Illéa, Protector of the Realm and Mother to her People, First of her Name."]
An instinctual, almost militaristic, straightening of his spine occurred. Aiden raised his chin and focused his full attention at Her Majesty's procession. She walked and seated herself with the dignity befitting an individual of her heightened station and her appearance provided a counterpoint of refined delicacy to her throne's authoritative form. She commanded the court with such confidence that a slight swelling of pride pinched at the previous farm-boy's heart as she called him forth. He kneeled before her with all due reverence, but unlike either of his fellow competitors kept his eyes stubbornly transfixed on the ground below. She deserved a knight of confidance, a knight of expertise, a knight of social connection, a knight of....
[i “Rise Ser Aiden Morrow a spark to the Queen’s Fire, join your brothers and sisters at my side, and may your honor burn brightly throughout Illéa for many years to come.”]
A tightening of Ser Erlshire's shoulders and a breath of disappointment from Ser Raffael served to confirm his ears had not played tricks on him. It took the touch of cold obsidian across both his shoulders and the feel of a hilt in his hands before Aiden raised his head. All the while he appeared humble rather than shock-addled thanks to his downward-cast visage. The next few moments were a blur, his senses tuning out everything sans the voice of the Queen. It was only after his relocation and a more private addressing of his person that his eyes regained their spark.
This young.... no - this Queen's words were precise, but not curt. Her instructions were well-elaborated upon and properly ordered. Such was the level of his stunned-state that all he could manage in response was a low-sweeping bow and a series of backwards steps as he exited the room. His new companions welcomed him with a warmth he did not expect, their excited chatter and sincere congratulations taking him further by surprise. As they took their turns, each proudly presenting him with their areas of expertise, Aiden could only think one thing. How was he going to serve this Queen?
It took well over an hour before the man bid entrance back into the study with three quick knocks on the door. Admittedly, a good ten minutes of the quickly-gone hour had been spent in preparation for his re-encounter. As Her Majesty bid him enter, he was once again made to roll his shoulders to maintain composure. He bowed before her once more and only raised after the appropriately-deemed five seconds needed to recognize her superior status. From there he met her eyes with no reserve, a stalwart quality in his stance.
[#93DB70 "Your Grace, you honor me with your appointment," he said with all sincerity. "And though I am not of a position to judge your actions, I can only bid that you utilize me to best effect. I have no doubt you chose me for a purpose either of my competitors could not fill. I am here for my country, my fellow people, and, of course, my Queen. Shall I swear fealty here or before another court ceremony?"]
The once prosperous and vast kingdom of Illéa has recently suffered a blow incomparable to anything she had suffered from before. A plague given the fitting name of Dream Sores has found a foot hold in the kingdom, taking the lives of far too many. The disease has grown in strength in a short few years. Having originated in the farthest corners of the great kingdom, in five years it has found its way to Cresal, the beating heart of the kingdom. Worse it had found its way to Queen Rosalinda Amberly Titanos, taking her from the world far too soon.
The death of the Queen couldn’t be at a worse time either, coming just a short two moons before long awaited and truly needed peace talks with the neighboring kingdom of Aspa are to be held. Most would think that the ruling King of Aspa would be willing to allow the newly crowned Queen time to mourn the loss of her mother, but no, the peace talk remains firmly scheduled in two moons. The far too advantageous time frame of the death of the late Queen and the firmly set peace talks brings quite a lot of suspicion to the mind of Illéa’s best kept secret.
While most view The Orphaned Queen as the picture perfect member of society, few know her true skills lie within the magic running through her veins. With the ability of illusion she is able to perfectly with those around her, distorting her features and causing her appearance to be far from its truth. Her magical capabilities do not end with mere illusions, the elemental abilities that run through the matriarch have found their way strongly into The Orphaned Queen, allowing her to bend the world round her to her whim.
These skills having been intensely trained and nearly perfected only begin to scratch the surface of what The Orphaned Queen is capable of. Being able to use the elements around her to aid in her fighting technic, her skill with a gun is also rather impressive. She is far more than the figure head most believe her to be. This has much to do with Maven, the stand in royal double that has been trained since young to be able to flawlessly appear as the new Queen when her skills call her away from the public eye.
The upcoming peace talks, and influx of those taken by the Dream Sores brings upon such a cause. The leading scientist struggle to understand the cause of the disease, let alone make head way in finding a cure. This leaves the taste of bio warfare in The Orphan Queen’s mind, inciting a personal investigation into the neighboring kingdom, to see if they truly have a hand in the death of her mother.
Few events require her true appearance, one such event is promoting a knight to a member of the Queen’s Fire, the elite guards that act as the Queens personal guards. Such events are taking place today, meaning that the Orphan Queen is left to decide among the three truly capable individuals who has been brought forth and selected out of dozens of knights.
With the Queens comm sitting still on the marble topped metal desk in the Queens study, the Orphan Queen spends her last moments before the ceremony baking in the sunlight flowing through the window. The heat on her skin is amongst the few things that she is able to feel since the passing of her last living relative.
Rapid knocking draws the Queen from her spot in the light and out of her study, falling perfectly into line surrounded by the five established members of the Queen’s Fire. They silently make their way to the lift, intended to let them off on the first floor of the castle, not too far from the Grand Hall. The silence is thick and ridged, chocking the Queen with the weight of her choice and the weight of the disapproval of those closest to her on it.
The silence stretches on all the way until they reach the grand hall, only to be interrupted by the sound of the royal announcer silencing the crowd and drawing there attention to the arrival of the Queen. Being only the second public appearance she has made since the loss of her mother, the court is filled with an even mix of pity on their faces and anticipation for who will have the honor to protect the Queen.
[b “Rise for her Majesty, Queen Josephina Gisele Titanos, Fire of Illéa, protector of the realm and mother to her people, first of her name”] the announcer states when the court finally dies down and comes to a tone matching that of the Queen and her Fire.
Two guards walk into the Grand Hall prior to the Queen, with three following behind her, giving enough space for the drones to capture the Queen in all her glory as she walks towards her marble throne. The black marble throne has ornately carved arms and a deep red cushion padding the seat and the back, permitting the Queen to sit for long times when needed.
The Queen takes her seat and glances around at the standing members of her court before she gives a curt nodding, motioning for them to sit. The drones flying around are capturing every moment of this ceremony, sharing the first decision of the Orphan Queen with all the people of Illéa on their comms and viewing screens. While the pressure is certainly felt by the Queen she does not allow it to diminish the calm and collected look on her face.
With the simple raise of her hand, the Queen silences the slowly growing mutters of the court. [#0000cd “Ser Thomas Erlshire, Ser Aiden Morrow, and Ser Raffael Caster come forth and kneel before me.”] She calls out, commanding tone bounces off the ornate walls, filling the space with it’s sound. As the three men come before her and end up on their knee, the Queen stands, grabbing an expertly crafted sword with an obsidian blade and a ruby incrusted hilt, depicting a flame on either side of the blade. [#0000cd “Each knight kneeling before me is skilled beyond measure, unmatchable honor, and an example we should all strive to be. Unfortunately only one of these men are able to join the Queen’s Fire, a decision I have not taken lightly. After much consideration of your skills I have selected the best fit.”] she looks to the crowd once again, pausing for dramatic effect before continuing.
[#0000cd “Rise Ser Aiden Morrow a spark to the Queen’s Fire, join your brothers and sisters at my side, and may your honor burn brightly throughout Illéa for many years to come,”] A kind smile finds its way to her lips, knowing that this choice will surprise most in the court, just as it had the other members of her guard. She places the blade of the sword on either side of his shoulder before turning it over and placing the hilt in his hand, providing the same type of sword the other members of the Queen’s Fire has secured at their side.
[#0000cd “While only one of the three men brought before me today were able to stand at my side today, both Ser Thomas Erlshire and Ser Raffeal Caster have proven to be invaluable members of our beloved kingdom and as such deserve to be rewarded as well. Ser Thomas Erlshire, Young Lion, Rise as the commander of the guards for our beloved city Cadron, capital of Illéa and home to the royal family.”] she says, pulling a deep red cloak seemingly out of no where. She wraps the cloak around his shoulder, melding the golden tips to the metal armor with a simple touch. [#0000cd “return now to your family, Young Lion.”] She states, giving the same kind smile as she looks towards the other members of house Erlshire.
[#0000cd Rise Ser Raffeal Caster, rise a member of the grand council, and claim your seat as the voice for those who have none, my your honor give guidance to our efforts on helping those in need.”] Once again, appearing out of no where she hands him an oak staff, twisted parts of the wood hold onto a blue crystal carved in a way to appear as a roaring fire, the crystal in of itself glows as well.
With the ceremony finished, the Queen returns to her throne and sits down. She allows some minor chatter before finally rising again, the court falls silent as the Queen leaves the court behind. She leads the guards to the study before finally turning towards them.
[#0000cd “Ser Aiden, I imagine you have lots of questions, feel free to ask anything. As you are now a member of the Queen’s Fire you are able to speak freely with me. The other members of the Fire are also available for questions, they have their own tasks in relation to making this transition easy for you. Ser Addison is our senior member and will be able to go over the rules and regulations involved with the position. Ser Oak will be able to show you around the castle and where your new room. Dame Sara is our weapon master, she will be able to show you the different weapons and the best hiding spots for them in case an occasion arises for the weapons to be hidden. Dame Cresal will show you our tech, she’ll be able to help you with your new communication implant and guide you on the new technology you will have availability to. Finally Dame Cora will go over your new training schedule and the rotation of your posts, also she’ll be able to tell you when your down time is and when you get a vacation away from all this. I hear she’ll also be able to tell you where all the best bars are in Cadron. After you’ve spoken to each of them and have been given the run down of how things work in the Queen’s Fire, come back in here and we’ll be able to discuss things a bit more in depth. Till then I will be in here reading over the lengthy notes my mother left on the upcoming peace talks.”] Josephina says patting Aiden on the shoulder before walking around to the other side of her desk and picking up her comm.
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.