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Olivia wasn't listening to Chana's words to Olivia's father, of course, but the awkwardness is clear. Maybe that wasn't the best idea.
However, when Copernia Vau becomes the poor fool of her own volition, seeing the rage barely be controlled on his face makes Olivia feel much more satisfied... and concerned. Step 1: Piss off father... check. Now what was step 2?
Before she can speak with Chana, they're all rushed to the senate. The new bodyguard easily disgusts Olivia, but she keeps it to herself. Olivia only keeps an eye on the bodyguard, and otherwise ignores her.
"Look, pal," she says to the much older woman. "I dunno who you think you are, but I heard whatchu done and I don't like it. You try anything here and I'll, like, dominate you and it won't be much fun, I assure you." Greenly steps back, caught off guard by her own logic. "I mean like, I'll have fun, but you won't. Cause you'll be dominated."
”Try anything?” Photinè looks scandalized. ”Ma chérie, you must be new at this.”
”Surely you’re eager to do your job well, and I applaud you for that, but it’s hardly necessary to ‘protect’ your client from every person who only wants a word with her.” She moves her perfectly manicured fingers in the air, implying quotation marks, when she says ‘protect’.
”Besides, anyone trying to stir up violence here in the senate would be a fool.” She inclines her head, looking past the odd woman at Malphene. ”Wouldn’t you agree, Dame Trant?”
A complex blend of emotions crosses Malphene's face as she watches the exchange between Greenly and the rival group. On one hand, she is horrified by the uncouth behavior of her escort, again ruing that her father insisted upon sending the mercenary along with her. Nevertheless, the debutante bully is also pleased to watch Greenly in action.
"It's quite the relief to see someone in these halls with some backbone, Greenie," Malphene says, hands upon her hips even as she inches away from the bodyguard. She then turns her eyes upon the other women who had erstwhile stood against her.
"I agree," she replies to Photinè, "The Senate is no place for violence. Of course, if you are so insistently begging for a scrap as you seem to be, then after the Gala it would be my divine pleasure to prove that your arms are just as lacking as your words and fashion sense. I could use some entertainment after the bore this evening has proven to be."
Malphene's eyes rove across the party. Is she sizing you up or looking for someone in particular? Finally, she focuses back on Photinè with a dissatisfied sneer.
"As soon as the Gala is over," she says in a hushed, husky voice, bending down closer to Photinè, "And after my father's vote helps end the princess' ambition, I'll meet your lot at the foot of Aroden's View to put you in your proper place."
Greenly is too happy and satisfied with the compliment to notice the mispronunciation of her name. She smiles brightly from beside Malphene, perfect straight teeth between plump firm lips.
She teeters idly from toe to heel to toe while her client talks, long thin arms swaying with her, both forward, now back.
And as Malphene leans in to deliver her invitation, so too does Greenly, punctuating her client's threat with a triumphant swing of her arm and a resounding "Yeah!"
Photinè lets out a sharp peal of laughter. It goes on for a bit too long.
She almost walks away, but her already grandiose sense of pride has been inflated by an evening of perceived success, and copious amounts of wine.
Photinè draws herself up to her full height, which, with the addition of her high-heels, comes close to matching Malpene’s. She places her hands on her hips, mirroring the other woman’s stance, and then leans in. Her painted lips very nearly brush Malphene’s ear as she says, ”Nothing would delight me more than to see you again, Dame Trant.”
She pulls away, smiling, and turns to the odd bodyguard. ”And you as well, of course, Miss—?”
Greenly doesn't seem to realize she is being spoken to, rocking back and forth all happy and free again, but after an awkward silence, steps back and gestures at herself. "Oh? Are you talking about me?"
She steps back again, and dramatically lunges forward, closing the distance. "I am Greenly Baerdóttir, future Ulfen Guard and, like," she falters, not having planned this far ahead, but finding her place, she continues, "And destroyer of evil, so get back, b#*$#, unless you wanna, like, start this early."
She smiles wide and laughs twice, proud of the impression she made on the enemy.
"Do you want some chew?" she offers Photiné, all aggression dropped. "I didn't bring enough for everyone but I figure I have enough for the three of us."
Photinè grimaces. ”Thank you, but no. I don’t chew.”
She curtsies prettily to the women, nodding to each of them in turn. ”Miss Greenly. Dame Trant. It’s been a pleasure. Au revoir!”
She sweeps off to witness the vote, placing herself on the railing near Amandine and Chana.
"Then how do you eat your food," the 1/8th-elf wonders aloud. Turning to Malphene, she jokes, "Do you think she swallows it whole or do her servants like baby bird it to her?"
Olivia raises her eyebrows in surprise. "Did... did you just agree to a duel with those two, Ms. Michele?"
Photinè lifts her shoulders in a gesture of indifference, apparently unbothered by the whole thing. ”I believe it’s only considered a duel if it’s one-against-one.”
"To me, it sounded like Miss Trant is expecting you to fight her after this gala. That doesn't sound very... uh... proper?" Chana pauses, picking at her words as she tries to guess just how unusual Trant's call to duel really is. "That bodyguard of hers looks particularly nasty. And if I heard right, she's expecting you to bring along your lot. You don't think that means us, does it?" She feigns misunderstanding...
...fairly unconvincingly.
"Oh please, it's hardly that serious," she waves a hand in the air. "I know their type: bored petit bourgeois looking for a thrill."
Photinè makes no mention of the rather obvious implication that she, too, is a bored, middling noble looking for a thrill.
"I'll tell you what's going to happen. We'll insult each other in the streets, clash weapons once or twice, the elven girl will throw a few punches, and then I'll invite everyone back to my home for refreshments and we'll toast to each other's prowess."
She pauses for a beat, and then adds, "assuming, of course, that any of us even show up."
Tanglefoot, who had watched the entire encounter with subdued pleasure, finally steps forward to rejoin his party, as it were.
"Well," says Tanglefoot, "If it does get serious, I, at least, will stand by you," he hesitates, expecting derisive laughter that he'd be of any use in combat, and continues, "Please hold your laughter until the end of the performance. And I wouldn't be so sure that things will be as urbane as you suggest. I've known more than one petit bourgeouis would wouldn't hesitate to hire a pair of crossbowmen to ambush you if you so much as insulted their horse. But as Olivia says, she is the daughter of a Senator, after all. I'm no more fond of all this pageantry than you, but I know the way the wind blows. Mind you don't make the wrong enemies. I know something about that."
Malphene and her entourage, including the bodyguard Greenly, depart to find a viewing position of "higher standards," as the tall debutante describes it.
You can discern a number of auras within the magic-infused writing: transmutation, evocation, illusion, enchantment, and especially conjuration.
.....
The political ruling body of Taldor spreads out twenty feet below the observation decks of the gallery. Thirty minutes of tedium pass as the hall argues and votes upon more mundane matters, such as formalities and spending bills, while the viewers upon the gallery above sort out their positions. However, it is easy to identify when the prime issue approaches, for noticeable excitement passes among the senate floor.
Dozens of senators and their immediate aides scurry below. The cacophony of voices is almost deafening, and it seems like the ceaseless chatter will continue endlessly. Suddenly, the magically amplified voice of the senate speaker interrupts the noise.
"Thank you all. I would ask that our observers please be silent and seat themselves. We will now begin voting on addendum number twenty-two thousand eighty-seven: the repeal of the ancient law of primogeniture, the issuance of inheritance and aristocratic titles solely through male heirs."
Following the proclamation, the speaker begins calling upon individual senators - one at a time calling upon them to support or oppose the repeal. The early declarations split evenly between the two camps, although many senators abstain entirely.
Duke Centimus and Lady Clement are among the early votes to repeal, soon joined by Senator Dou and Marquess Deschamps.
When Marquess Tanasha Starborne, the gnome who represents the Verduran Forest Province, is called upon for her vote, she needs to be nudged by the senator beside her to rouse her from her distracted daydreaming. Starborne then hops atop the back of the bench in front of her, setting her rainbow hair fluttering, and in a sing-song voice practically shouts her vote to repeal primogeniture.
As expected, when they are called upon, Senator Trant and Earl Vernisant vote to uphold primogeniture. It is more surprising, though not entirely shocking, when Countess Pace joins the ranks of senators who vote to oppose the repeal.
It is not until halfway through the process that the votes begin to favor one side. By the end, there is a clear decision.
The speaker takes a moment to compose himself, evidently surprised by the final tabulations, before announcing the results in a distant monotone.
"The final tally for addendum twenty-two thousand eighty-seven, the repeal of primogeniture, with thirty-six abstentions, stands at one hundred and seven for, seventy-nine against. The addendum passes."
The cultured, well-bred senators attempt to rein in their reactions, but the expected responses can still be discerned. Many relieved smiles emerge, while others furrow their brows and glower. Marquess Starborne seems to perform some sort of victory dance upon her bench.
Among the other remaining business for the evening's session, the senate recognizes Princess Eutropia Stavian I as the new heir to the Primogen Crown, and the first heir the empire has seen in twenty years.
Greenly nudges Malphene when her dad takes the stage, and again when primogeniture is repealed. "Sucks for your dad but good for us, eh?" she murmurs.
During the vote, Photinè instinctually reaches for the hands of the women on either side of her, clasping them in solidarity.
When the addendum passes, she gasps almost inaudibly. A look of surprise passes briefly over her face, and is soon replaced by a satisfied smile.
When the results of the vote are announced Amandine breaks into a broad smile. She's pleased to be on a good paying job that's on the right side of things, but she'd never seriously believed they would be on the winning side as well.
She didn't truly know enough about Princess Eutropia to have strong feelings about her, and she certainly didn't think the Senate would back her. Amandine is now much more impressed with both.
Furthermore, she and her partners had successfully met their objectives. Amandine can't say how much of a difference they had actually made in the outcome, but she thinks the likelihood of Lady Lotheed offering them a more permanent retainer has just greatly increased.
Amandine hugs her teammates one by one in turn, saying some version of "well done, excellent work" to each as she does so.
Amandine returns Olivia's great enthusiasm with a peck on the cheek before moving on to hug the next person.
The top half of Chana's torso hangs over the railing as she looks down at the (dreadfully boring) proceedings of the meeting of the senate. She tries to remember the names and faces of the various senators, but it soon becomes way too overwhelming. Face after face of old, angry men, usually ones spilling out of their pants like dough set too long to rise. She closes her eyes and just listens in.
She snaps out of her dozing when suddenly a gnome down on the floor sings out her vote. For a moment, her hand goes down to her belt to draw a dagger on whoever might've snuck up on her. But she quickly realizes where she is and pulls herself to her feet, doing her best to pretend she wasn't just napping.
Soon enough, the vote is resolved, leaving Chana confused.
'That's it? They just asked people and it was done? Chammy said there'd be fightin''
Even through her confusion, when Photine squeezes her hand, she squeezes back and utters a "Wow!?"
She returns Amandine's hug, still a little dazed, then pulls back while Olivia gets incapacitated. As soon as the initial wave of celebrations is over, Chana asks. "Uh, is that it? They can just decide it like that? I can uh, scarcely believe it wasn't done earlier if it was so easy."
The crowd on the gallery disperses as primogeniture opponents start celebrating while its supporters slink of to plan and scheme. Just as ushers begin announcing that the Grand Prince's speech and the exaltation ceremony will be held in 30 minutes, your aide badges chime - Martella's voice in your ears, summoning you for one final meeting.
You find her at the same secluded table on the gallery, again overseen by her clockwork cricket buzzing upon the railing.
"I am thoroughly impressed with your accomplishments tonight," she praises you as you approach and array yourself around her table. "As expected, every single vote proved crucial to passing the repeal, so it is a relief that you protected Senator Dou from the Trants - and convinced Baron Okerra of the repeal's merit. Although not a senator himself, I noticed that several otherwise neutral senators who greatly respect Okerra's opinion seemed to have changed their stances by the crucial moment."
She leans in and whispers conspiratorially, despite the protection offered by her brass chatterbox.
"It was also amusing to overhear the fallout of the damage that has been done to the reputations of Senator Trant, Earl Vernisant, and my own brothers. Not only has this weakened their political clout, but it's also dealt a long overdue blow to their egos. Although the High Strategos proved to be an elusive target, it is a small setback - and you made up for it by how well you played the social battlefield throughout the senate tonight."
Martella leans back and offers a deep sigh of relief, releasing much of the anxious tension she has been repressing tonight.
"All that's left is the Grand Prince's speech, which will likely be a concession for his daughter's bid for succession. Even though this vote does not replace him as ruler, you would hardly believe that by how vehemently he has opposed this repeal for so long. I doubt he will even hold back during his speech, and his concession will come with no small amount of venom for his daughter."
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Olivia is beaming with pride. "We stand united so that women who merit a better station in life may freely claim it like their brothers. Our fathers will no longer stop us."
She raises a glass of wine. "A toast, to the end of primogeniture, to the princess, and to the beginning of a new age for women's rights."
After the toast, Olivia asks "So what is the plan after the Grand Prince's speech? Miss Trant has declared a brawl with Lady Michele."
Martella chokes a little on her drink after hearing news of the brawl, but as she composes herself and dabs at her face with a napkin, you see a barely concealed smile upon her face.
"Well, I would say that Dame Trant is two parts bluster and one part fists, so I would not necessarily count on her backing down if she's set her mind to fight. Considering the blow dealt to her family's honor and clout by their faction's defeat in the vote, not to mention the rumors about her father that have taken root tonight," Martella adds with another knowing smirk, "She likely has some frustration to express."
Chana relaxes a little as Martella relays that things went well (after all, Chana herself doesn't have a good sense for it). She raises a glass with Olivia "To the end of primogeniture." but she doesn't do more than sip from it. Beneath her veil, she wrinkles her nose. The taste of wine is one thing she still hasn't gotten used to. The drinks in the Narrows were very different.
At Martella's response about the brawl, Chana adds "Is a fight like that really wise? For Photine, that is? I can't imagine it does Miss Trant much good for her reputation."
'Though 'ere's somefin ta be said fer blowin' off steam, eh?'
Amandine's face shows a mixture of confusion and concern as the others talk about some brawl. Apparently, she thinks, with the people who were with the odd looking woman that singled them out for abuse before the vote.
"A brawl? Why? What happened?"
So many irritating things about the nobility it's hard to choose, but all the fighting over honor might top the list. It's as if they never outgrow adolescence.
”Dame Trant is just sore over our opposition to her and her father. Even more so now that they’ve found themselves on the losing side, I expect,” Photinè explains.
”Certainly she’s a formidable woman, but you didn’t choose us for our good looks,” she says, lazily leaning into her chair.
"Dame Trant likely expects you to not show up, so she can boast about how frightened you are of her. If you prove to be braver than the debutantes and socialites she is used to bullying - and I believe we can all agree that you are, by leaps and bounds - she'll try to intimidate you. When that inevitably fails, she won't hesitate to actually fight - although she will try to move the scuffle somewhere private."
Martella looks around, watching the people left on the gallery, as though trying to judge the time based on their movements. A new thought evidently crosses her mind, and she withdraws a letter that she slides across the table.
"I suddenly regret sending Khalil on a side errand, since the soon-to-be Lord Kalbio was clinging to his side quite intently. This is actually a message for Kalbio from his parents in Breezy Creek. They, unfortunately, could not afford to travel to Oppara for his big day. Since I suspect you will speak with him long before I get the chance, so would you be so kind as deliver it to him?"
The letter is a sheet of low-quality paper, folded over neatly and sealed with a bit of wax embossed with a simple, heart-shaped stamp.
Once you accept the message, she rises quickly and begins hurrying everyone along, lest you miss the Grand Prince's speech and the Exaltation Ceremony.
Amandine hurries along with the others back to hear Grand Prince Stavian's speech. Although she says no more about it, she's not happy at all with the idea of some throwdown afterward.
Amandine had started to expect she might be able to get home to Calix before dawn. He's fourteen and familiar enough with her being away some nights that he can take care of himself. But even though they're not living in The Narrows any longer, she's beginning to worry about what he might start getting up to out on the streets in the evenings.
Tanglefoot follows the group, nervous about the Grand Prince's response to the vote. While the decision on primogeniture is a wonderful development, the Galtan expatriate knows well how quickly democratic reform can turn to disaster as counter-revolutionaries do their worst to stem the tide of change.
Hundreds of dignitaries, senators, and other visitors cram onto the senate floor. A dozen hulking members of the Ulfen Guard, personal bodyguards of the grand prince, stand arrayed around a podium atop the central, circular stage of the chamber.
A mix of senatorial staffers and Ulfen Guards assign guests to positions within the chamber based on rank and influence. You are placed towards the outer wall of the room, well over 80 feet from the podium. You spot Dame Trant and her bodyguard across the crowd, though they are scarcely any closer to the podium. Martella is placed about 20 feet closer to the central stage, while Princess Eutropia, Lady Morilla, and other prominent nobles are right upon the podium's edge.
Grand Prince Stavian III ascends to the tall stage that overlooks the hall from its center. He raises a single hand to calm the murmurs of the assembled crowd. A member of the prince's Ulfen Guard escorts Kalbio - who looks beyond thrilled in his pristine, new noble attire - to stand several paces behind the prince.
"Quite the assembly we have here today," the grand prince says. "I don't think I've ever seen the senate building packed so full...especially not for any of my previous speeches. Even my lovely daughter, now a woman, sits among the players of Oppara's greatest game. Of course, none of you are here for me. No, today is about something else entirely. Today is about elevation. It is no secret that today is about exalting others to a new status in life.
"I'm sure many of you have had the opportunity to meet Kalbio here. He is a man of the people, elevated at the urging of all the ladies, lords, senators, and aides present in the chamber. I think we should all give him a rousing applause to commemorate this momentous change in his life."
The room erupts into cheers as Stavian pauses in his proclamation, smiling widely as he takes in the adulation of the crowd.
True to form, Greenly is entirely oblivious to anything outside of the speech, her ward and herself.
Photinè’s attention remains mostly on the Grand Prince and his speech, but the occasional glance at Malphene Trant sends her thoughts drifting; she idly tries to decide if she would prefer to go home and slip into a hot bath instead of showing up for the fight.
Amandine doesn't really know what to expect from the event, it's a bit overwhelming to her trying to take it all in.
Chana follows after the rest of the group, running what Martella said through her mind. The noblewoman had made a good argument for actually fighting Ms. Trant. That unless she was put in her place she'd be out bullying and boasting forever. That, at least, was pretty much the same way it worked on the street.
'Maybe a bit o a fight is just wot we need...'
But as she walks into the senate floor proper, she loses track of those thoughts. Instead, her gaze runs across the massive crowd, taking in all the unfamiliar (and some familiar) faces. When the Prince begins to speak, she takes advantage of her full height to get a good view.
With that view, and perhaps her own sixth sense for danger at work, her eyes are drawn to the black clad individuals moving around the edges of the Senate. She tugs at Olivia's sleeve and leans over to whisper. "Those men and women in black... they don't look like servants to you, do they? And definitely not guards. Why are they moving to block the doors?" Then, if Olivia is not receptive, she leans the other way and repeats her observation to Photine.
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"Block... the doors? Well that's odd. There should be guards on the other side keeping people from getting... in..."
Her military training kicks in.
"Get your hands on your weapons and keep your guard up. Don't draw them yet."
Olivia activates her badge that talks to Lady Martella. "Black garbed people heading to block the doors. Do you have orders?"
Tanglefoot remains intensely focused on the Grand Prince's words.
Across the sea of well-coifed heads, you see Lady Lotheed turn her head to look towards the senate exits, alerted by Olivia's message. A few other members of the audience turn out of curiosity, but they quickly return their attention to the grand prince.
"I suspect they're members of the Lion Blades," Martella telepathically replies via her master badge. "A secret society dedicated to protecting Taldor from foreign powers. They are not officially sanctioned, so they operate clandestinely. I...suppose we should leave them be."
Despite the reassuring answer, Oliva and Chana detect a thread of uncertainty in Martella's voice.
Meanwhile, as you watch these figures and contact Martella, the ceremony continues.
As the applause abates, a hulking Ulfen Guard pushes Kalbio forward, almost knocking the weaver down as he awkwardly regains his balance beside the Grand Prince. The leader of Taldor maintains his calm, placing a hand on Kalbio's shoulder without even taking his eyes off the crowd, and continues his speech.
"I understand your parents sacrificed everything to help you reach this day, my boy. Saving up for your apprenticeship and the tools you needed to achieve greatness. And today you are a grateful son, no doubt making them proud. I, too, understand what it is to sacrifice; I have given so much for the people of this nation: a brother, a son, a lifetime of service. Even my own daughter's loyalty."
He pauses, licking his lips and pulling the suddenly awkward Kalbio closer to his side.