Her Majesty's Blade (closed)

UncleJunior

Experienced
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Jul 19, 2022
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The palace flickered with golden light from the thousands of candles above and along the great hall. Blood-red silks adorned the marble halls and thick carpets covered the gleaming floors. The hundreds of people in attendance danced and swayed with the horns, drums, and cymbals that played in the grand theater. The quality of the stone, as well as the shape of the inner court itself, carried sound throughout the palace grounds. Even the poor sections beyond the palace walls, where the cook fires brought the smell of meat and onions, throbbed in time with the dance of the great hall.

Aladria swayed in step with the song that echoed through her palace. Her swinging hips pushed and twisted the her dress into scandalous shapes. On either side of (but several steps behind) her the royal advisors followed. The royal treasurer and minister of culture chattered endlessly as the greatest party the palace had seen in anyone's lifetime went unnoticed all around them. Suddenly ending her step and turning sharply toward the minister of culture, she cut him off in the middle of a tirade about the 'unwashed poor'.

"The merchants tossing coins to the poor is more than some tired peasant tradition Sir Yadwin, it is a law passed down from the first king. It keeps the farmers and laborers at their toils all year without complaint."

The minister of culture, perhaps thinking that the queen hadn't been listening to him (a fair assumption, as she rarely did) stammered for a few moments before attempting to change the subject to the traditions of a different king. The queen cut him off again.

"Agram the seventh is beloved by historians and the wealthy, and for the same reason. The chaos and incompetence of his reign changed the shape of our map."

"Some would say for the better," the minister returned.

"Not many," the queen replied coldly.

In the courtyard far below, a cheer rose up, accompanied by the sound of coins striking the stone streets of the commoner's square. The queen simply smiled at her minister, ending the argument. The treasurer, who had agreed with everything the minister said up until that moment, helpfully reminded him that the work output following the Founder's Festival was three times greater than at any other time of the year.

Queen Aladria was young, unmarried, and powerful beyond measure. For some reason people thought she was someone who could be spoken over, or for. She'd made embarrassing such people into a game she'd learned to play terrifyingly well. It was hardly any wonder that almost every one who truly knew her wanted her dead.

The Queen waved her ministers away, gently but firmly advising them to enjoy the party without her. Once they had turned the corner, Aladria turned to face the shadowy place between a stone column and a gold-fringed silk curtain and gestured toward it.

"Come my nightingale, I have need of you."
 
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