Whatever game Malphene Trant was playing, she wasn't being subtle about it. Not that she had seemed to be from Lady Lotheed's description, but it was always nice to have personal confirmation.
If she was trying to bully the young senator, (whoever he was), then the sooner she was interrupted the better. Cecilia makes her way to The Bedlam II Waiting Room, giving Larin a significant nod as she goes. Then she enters.
"Why hello there! Lady Trant, isn't it? Your father asked me to look for you; something about an urgent matter he needed your assistance with. He's in the Imperial Archives." She didn't seem particularly intelligent if she was being this obvious about her actions; hopefully she would fall for the simple ruse.
Kyralina is only too happy for the excuse to extricate herself from the catastrophical failure that is her conversation with Lady Morilla, so she quickly excuses herself and makes her way to the Gallery.
Malphene turns from the seated junior senator. You can see that the man is flanked on three sides by the young men of Lady Trant's entourage.
"Terribly sorry, but we haven't asked for anyone to come and clean up the room, though I can expect we will have spills. Dear, please remember your place and wait until your betters call for you before barging in where you're not welcome." The words are malicious, and a wicked smile forms on the young woman's face before she turns back to the business at hand.
"That's a nice dress. Looks like the curtains our gardener hung in his cottage last winter. Did you borrow the fabric?" The young men jeer and join in, tossing out additional disparaging remarks.
"As far as betters are concerned, Malphene, there are very few in Oparra who are considered higher station than the Zespires." Izalco says making way into his room, having extricated himself from Lady Pace's companionship. "So, as a member of one of the powerful houses of our fair city, I'll have to insist that you make room for me, your better, as it were."
He does not smile at her, but looks over the young senator to identify who Trant is speaking with.
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Cecilia leans forward, apparently unphased by the insults although she does allow the smile to drop from her face. "Very well, Lady Trant. I was attempting to allow you a chance to leave with your dignity intact, but if you insist, then so be it."
"Let me be blunt. Half the Gallery saw you and your goons drag this senator in here. Do you know what they're saying? Because it's not anything complimentary. It's 'Lord Trant is so weak that he has to pummel people in order to get their cooperation. So cheap that he has to use his own daughter as hired muscle.'" She smiles again, almost sympathetically. "Is that how you want to be seen? Nothing more than a pawn in your father's schemes, and a disposable one at that?"
"If you continue down this path, no one will ally with you. No husband will have you. As soon as your father dies, you will be completely alone and powerless. Is that what you want? Or do you want to start forging your own path, one separate from your father's ambitions?"
She leans back slightly and folds her arms. "It's your call. You can remain here, doing exactly as your father demands, regardless of whether or not it's good for you. Or leave. Start forming your own connections. It's the perfect night for it." She gestures towards Izalco. "You could start by giving the Zespires a better impression of you than what they've seen so far."
Kyralina smirks as Cecilia roasts Lady Malphene and her father. "Quite right, I can only imagine the damage that this is doing to the Trants' reputation. They'll say you are brutish and uncultured, no true Taldans. And good luck getting any sort of political clout or trade deals after that."
Malphene looks between the three of you, struggling for words as your own hit home. Her face turns beet red and her mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Finally, she turns and throws a glass across the room, shattering it against the wall. Malphene's entourage looks stunned, not sure quite what they're seeing.
"Come on, Trant, he might not be a Zespire," one begins, trailing off weakly at the obvious family resemblance.
"Get out," she mutters, still shaking with fury.
"What, you want me to leave?" the first goon asks.
"No, not you," she clarifies, pointing at the junior senator. "Get out, and stay away from me."
"I can assure you, near you is the last place I wish to be," the small man says, gathering himself and hurrying out of the room.
Malphene slumps down in the chair, waiting for everyone not in her entourage to leave. At any dawdling, she glares. "This room is still reserved to me, and you were not invited."
Just outside the room, the junior senator waits to thank you. "Amadorian Dou," he says, eagerly shaking Izalco's hand and bowing to Cecilia and Kyralina. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to have been rescued from such peril. One can only hope that boorish woman takes your words to heart, dear lady." The senator isn't available to chat for very long, but before leaving, he invites you all to visit him in his office tomorrow morning. "Such heroism deserves to be rewarded, and I believe I have just the thing," he says, before excusing himself.
Crisis averted, Larin couldn't help but smile at her companions. Honestly, she almost started feeling bad for Lady Trant, but after their first interaction... She felt as if it was well deserved. She took notes on the young senator's name, but immediately moved back to her original mission.
"Well, that was entertaining. I believe I shall return to the gardens."
Not one to be deterred by failure, Kyralina tries to figure out another angle of attack in winning Lady Morilla's favour. Perhaps if she was to offer her a drink, alcohol is a well-established ice-breaker, is it not? And perhaps if she could manage to do so without spilling half the glass down the front of her dress...
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I think I tripped on these uneven stones!"
"I'm just happy we could help, Senator Dou." Cecilia smiles to herself. Lady Lotheed would no doubt be pleased by how they'd been able to handle the situation, she'd made a new connection in the Senate, and she'd had the pleasure of taking a bully down a peg. The night was looking up.
Her newfound optimism leads her to square her shoulders and make her way back up to the Gallery. She's avoided Countess Pace for long enough. Time to actually try to talk to her.
She waits for a moment when the Countess is alone, then approaches. "Greetings...Countess Pace, isn't it? I'm Cecilia Volso. I just had to come over and tell you how much I love your outfit. The style, the bold color choices...it's really quite amazing how well everything works together."
Izalco:
Kyralina: Influence Check: Lady Morilla (Failure)
Larin: Complete Task: Spy (Success)
Olnaris:
Tabar:
"I'm not quite sure I'm happy with how this vote is likely to turn out, if the rumors I'm hearing are true. What the princess is thinking pursuing this course of action, I can only wonder," the mustachioed gentleman mutters.
"Not to worry, Tarren. After tonight, all of Taldor's worries about succession will be laid to rest," Maxillar says, patting the noble on the shoulder in a much more genial matter than he is known for. "Perhaps another drink will help drive those concerns away?"
Lady Morilla frowns a bit as she observes the spill. "Yes, they do catch one unawares at times when one has had a bit more to drink than one should."
Larin is happy with her gathering of information. She moves back to the shadows, pulling the comm device, and relays what she heard to the team. At the end, though, she completes with whispers.
Tarren... Does anyone know this name? And what does Maxillar mean by succession worries being laid to rest? - she inquiries her companions - I have a bad feeling about this, team. I will try to gather more information.
"My gods, man, you're doing a fantastic job striking at Vernisant's influence. I haven't been this successful in years, but perhaps that's because my reputation precedes me..." The man sizes you up for a moment. "Perhaps it's that unknown factor. So many people wanting to believe that someone they've never met will have some hidden truth while those they've known for years are ignored. Ah, but where are my manners. Sir Marcian Germande, at your service, and perhaps you'd be willing to assist me in opening a few doors."
Olnaris greets Marcian Germande calmly, "Pleased to meet you my sir. Much as I would like to give my aid, I have matters that must be attended to. If my duties allow time later on in the evening, I shall see what I can do to help you."
He gives the man a polite nod before taking his leave, tracking down the Grand Duke.
"Your Grace, my duty to my benefactors has been appeased, and I now I am humbly at your service. I suppose I should properly introduce myself. I am Olnaris Valkavian, of the Valkavians you may well be thinking of. Now, what is it you wanted assistance in?"
With many of their tasks well in hand, and Trant declawed Izalco looks around for any other nobles he may engage with while they wait for the main event.
Wandering into the courtyard he spies Gloriana Morilla and Eutropia. Not sure he's quite brave enough to approach the Princess he opts to speak with Morilla for the time being.
"Lady Morilla just who I was looking for! I've been deliberating on something recently that I thought be of interest to you. So many of our peers are focused on the martial arts or physical labor I thought it might be beneficial to collect those of us more inclined toward the arcane and discuss how the intentional application of magic might improve our lovely country."
"Of course I only know a handful of individuals who might qualify, I was hoping you might engage with me to create an invitation list?"
Larin insists in her task - she feels she's close to understand a lot better the true intentions of the High Strategos. Again, she asks for her companions help in comms.
We're close, guys... - she whispers - I might need some assistance here. Maybe someone can create a little distraction or something to help me better conceal my intentions while I try to "read" the target.
Cecilia is unfortunately unable to respond to Larin's request, as she's rather occupied at the moment trying not to sneeze. The Countess seems to have a rather heavy hand with the perfume.
The hug is unexpected, (and unwelcome), but it gives her a second to think of how best to steer the conversation.
"I've heard you're one of Princess Eutropia's staunchest allies in the fight against primogeniture. It's really quite inspiring. So many prominent nobles prefer to keep things the way they are. If it weren't for people like you, willing to campaign for the end of primogeniture despite the risk that it could hamper their own careers...why this vote would not be happening at all." She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "Even now I hear the Senate is divided, that the vote is not as foregone a conclusion as people think. Although surely those are just rumors?"
Kyralina is silently furious at the implication that she's drunk, but seeing that Izalco has managed to gain the favourable attention of Lady Morilla, she tries to recover.
"Ah, but the Taldan of old claimed that truth resides in wine, and I think by that they meant there is a certain lowering of one's ability to dissemble and deceive. And should not honesty and authenticity be prized, regardless of how one arrives at them?" She raises the now empty glass, turning it so that it catches the light prettily and studying it intently.
"Come with me, if you would like. I think it would do the both of you well to meet with Her Majesty." Turning without waiting, Lady Morilla begins walking directly across the courtyard to Princess Eutropia.
"My duties to my employers are fulfilled for now. Provided it does not greatly impede upon their interests, which knowing you are a man of honor and tact I am sure it shall not, I am at your disposal."
"I'm afraid that political power is really not all it's cracked up to be in this day and age...at least, at my age. There's only so much you feel like doing on a given day, and the heady aroma of might is for youth in my opinion."
[b]"Here are the names of some associates. Well, associates to be, that is. The study of the arcane arts has lost its way and many prefer to waste the true power that comes from magic in influencing their shortsighted political gambles. Many of the names on this paper are quite bright and talented, and still young in their careers here. Others have children who are talented in the arcane arts, and have yet to employ them to a decent tutor." Avernathus clasps his hands behind his back. "If you would be so kind, I would like to have them as my pupils, along with you. There is much knowledge in this old head, and I feel a need to pass it on to those who can bear the weight of such information."
The Princess!? Now!? Kyralina almost chokes at the unexpected turn of events, hurrying to keep pace with Lady Morilla while her mind works frantically. Quick, think of something witty to say. Savvy, pithy, something to show you're at home in the political arena.
As they are presented to Princess Eutropia, her first impulse is to curtsy, but instead she touches her fist to her chest in more of a warrior's salute as she bows her head in greeting. "Your Majesty, such an honour and an inspiration to be in your presence."
"I have heard much of glories past this evening, but thanks to you I feel like we are witnessing history in the making tonight. No matter how the votes will fall, things will never be the same, for change is like water carving through rock."
Izalco follows Kyralina smiling at the ease with which she starts the conversation.
"I agree you grace. We did not speak much as children, but when I compare my record with yours I'm left questioning the company I kept in those days. I am eager and hopeful for a new age under your leadership. I can not fathom a situation where the primogeniture vote does not go your way."
He smiles and bows to the Princess.
"And I hope you understand that I say this with little regard to my own gain, but if I can assist you in the future please do not hesitate to call on the Zespire name."
Cecilia stares after the Countess' retreating form, eyebrows raised. Interesting.
She lightly taps her badge. "Task completed. Let me know when you are ready for a report." Then she heads back down to the Arcade to see if Larin still needs any assistance.
"You know this signal, Merret?" Maxillar asks, impatience on his voice.
"Yes, milord. 'Twill be accomplished as the Grand Prince wishes."
"Excellent." Maxillar is positively beaming, though the effect this creates is remarkably similar to watching a shark grin. "Tonight, we shall change the world."
"You are correct," she adds in response to Kyralina's words. "History has changed due to our efforts, and whether the Senate will allow change to occur, we have at least shown that we can challenge the status quo and raise ourselves to a higher standard. If not tonight, then someday soon the leaders of our fair land will realize, as many of us already have, that the days of our reckless youth are past and it is our duty to carve a better future." These last words are said knowingly, with a nod of acknowledgement again towards Izalco.
"I apologize for my abruptness, but I must excuse myself now," Princess Eutropia says, gathering herself and preparing to leave. "My father is expected to speak following the vote, and I must attend to other matters before then. It was delightful to meet with you both."
Larin touches the badge, in a dark corner, and immediately starts relaying to the others.
Guys... It seems to be as I feared. Something will go on... It seems Maxillar and a group... Including this large man, "Merret"... Are planning something for tonight. Something that will change the world... And it sounded like they're working for Grand Prince Stavian himself!
She pauses, almost confused by herself, then speaks again.
I can't begin to fathom what this all means...
Cecilia pauses halfway to the Arcade. It seems Larin has completed her task after all. "Perhaps we should meet. Lady Lotheed, do you have a moment? We have information that might be helpful to you."
Seeing that the Grand Duke's prospective students have not yet arrived, he heads for Sir Marcian Germande, "It seems as though my obligations have not yet come to pass. If you still require assistance, I shall see what I can do."
All of you receive a message from Lady Lotheed in response to the comments that are being sent back and forth.
"Status update, 5 minutes, in the courtyard."
Those who begin walking towards the courtyard will be interrupted by a disturbance from the Arcade. As you listen, you realize that it is growing silent and the crowd is parting as servants roll a length of red carpet through the Arcade to the entrance to the senate floor. Grand Prince Stavian III has arrived with his Ulfen guard. The crowd moves quickly, all craning to get a glimpse of Taldor's leader who walks briskly along the carpet. As he reaches the senate floor, he enters the Emperor's Hall without a backwards glance, and the doors close behind him.
Still elated that the Princess talked to her (and thanked her!), Kyralina tries to play it cool as she heads towards the meeting with Lady Lotheed. The Grand Prince's appearance delays her momentarily, as she is curious to see the most powerful man in the Empire in the flesh, but his behaviour is a disappointment.
"He doesn't even look at anyone, it's like we are not worth a sliver of his time," she murmurs bitterly to Izalco. What a stuck up ass, she completes privately.
As Olnaris heads to Sir Marcian, he receives the message and heads for the courtyard.
The Emperor barely interested him. He was an old, corrupt noble, the same as all the others.
Cecilia heads towards the courtyard, pausing briefly as she realizes the Emperor himself has arrived. Personally she takes the opportunity to ease her own passage; with the crowd so busy craning their necks to see the Grand Prince Stavian she's in no danger of bumping into anyone for the first time all night.
She meets up with the others and looks around. "Has anyone seen Lady Lotheed yet?"
Larin heads to the courtyard as well. Getting there, she greets Cecilia and, as her companion speaks, she replies.
No... Not really. She should be here soon, hopefully.
Having successfully treated with the Princess and the been ignored by the Grand Prince, Izalco figures he's accomplished about as much as he set out to this night. So he smiles at Kyralina.
"We aren't, of course, worth his time. We're only his subjects after all, why would he deign to care about us?" Izalco does his best to sound flippant but his contempt is clear.
As the others arrive he nods to each in kind, glad they all seem to have done well this evening.
"Do you know who I am? Do you know who my father is, you ignorant lout?"
"Yes, yes Sir Germande, we all know who your father is, and we are all unfortunately aware of who you are. The High Strategos has accepted your gift, and nothing more, and when he says 'Nothing more,' he means it." The speaker is a secretarial looking man, small and bookish, but clearly capable of speaking back to Germande.
"But those were some of the most valuable horses in all of Taldor! Surely you could-"
"Do what, Sir Germande? Give place to your rantings about conspiracy? Force my master to subjugate himself to the will of one of his subordinates?" The secretary gathers himself and begins to walk away. "If you hope to salvage this evening, Sir Germande, I recommend you stop making a scene."
"By all accounts, you have been busy," Lady Lotheed says as you all sit down. "As have many others. I suspect that His Majesty is hiding away at this moment himself to prepare a speech to concede the throne eventually to his daughter, if all that I have heard is true, though we'll have to wait for the senate to vote to know for sure."
Fairly pleased with herself, Kyralina ducks briefly into one of the bathrooms to refresh herself, then hunts down Baron Okerra. The things she has heard about the man have piqued her curiosity, especially what power could Lady Lotheed hold over this man to make him change his vote, despite his reputation of a stern upholder of law and order.
Once she tracks him down, rather than discussing the finer (and boring!) points of legalese, she engages him on the other topic she knows him to have a passion for - tournaments. Her own physicality is not very imposing, which makes for a striking contrast with the Baron's tall and powerful figure.
"Baron Okerra, a pleasure to finally meet you! I hope that my colleagues didn't bore you too much, and if they did..." she dips into a little curtsy, glancing up at him with a little smile, "then I'm here to repair their gaffe. Are you looking forward to the start of the tournament season, now that the weather is improving? Will you be competing this year? Do you have a favourite weapon?" This was an old tactic of seduction - get them to talk about themselves, particularly the things they are (or think they are) good at, all the while listening with rapt attention and showering them with praise.
Baron Okerra notes the badge you wear and connects the dots between you and your colleagues. "My dear, they had interesting views on certain points of the law. It is always a pleasure to have the opportunity to discuss such things with the rising generation," he booms.
Baron Okerra perks up a bit as you begin asking about the tournaments. "The tournament season is always something to look forward to. A good competition is just the thing to shake off the dust and get the blood moving, though, I seem to have lost the figure for it myself. The burdens of age and too much good food, of course, but my trainers make sure I work it off as I can." At your question regarding a favorite weapon, Baron Okerra launches into a story about a favored lance of his that carried him through an entire season of competitions. "Never had a weapon like that before, nor since, and what wood it was made of, no one could tell me. Eventually, I took it into battle, hoping to prove its worth, though it shattered upon the back of a particularly rough troll."
The meeting with Lady Lotheed goes quickly and smoothly as everyone recounts their tasks and accomplishments. Lady Lotheed asks a few follow up questions before dismissing you all and promising that there will be a bonus when you receive your payments for this night's work.
Following the Grand Prince’s arrival, servants begin to bring out a light supper, placing various expensive cheeses, fruits, pastries, and wines out on tables or carrying platters to offer momentary repast. The food placates the masses left confused by Stavian’s abrupt arrival and sudden disappearance, and soon conversations return to normal as interested parties jockey for positions in food lines to speak with important dignitaries.
During dinner, a special bottle of wine is brought out and taken to a particular table, where some gentleman put on great airs over the quality and age of the wine, hinting greatly at how it pains them to part with such a treasure, though it may be for the betterment of all that may taste of it. There is a brief moment of silence as the wine is poured and sampled, followed quickly by retching and spewing in disgust at the foul tasting beverage, as well as sending many words of ill will towards the unfortunate donors.
Finally, after dinner, the Taldan senate convenes to vote on various issues while guests watch from the gallery above. The hall spends 30 minutes arguing and voting on formalities and spending bills before reaching the event all of Taldor has been waiting for: whether to abolish the long-standing law of primogeniture.
The political ruling body of Taldor spreads out twenty feet below the observation deck of the gallery. 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 title solely through male heirs.”
Following this proclamation, the speaker begins calling on individual senators one at a time to support or oppose the repeal. Early declarations split evenly between the options, with many senators abstaining entirely, and only halfway through the process do votes begin to favor Princess Eutropia’s bid to end primogeniture.
By the end of the tabulations, the repeal passes with roughly 60 percent of the senate’s backing. The speaker takes a moment to compose himself, seemingly shocked by the results, before continuing to formally announce the initial results in a distant monotone.
"And so, the final tally for addendum twenty-two thousand eighty-seven, the repeal of primogeniture, with thirty-six abstentions, the final tally stands at one hundred and seven for, seventy-nine against. The addendum passes. Among other business tonight, 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."
With the declaration made, the chamber explodes in a riot of applause and condemnation. It takes several minutes for the cacophony to die down. The speaker declares that a closed senate recount is to take place, an event signaled by the speaker declaring a temporary recess of the senate to outsiders.
During this brief recess, Lady Lotheed summons you all to meet her down near the entrance to the senate floor.
"I daresay that His Majesty's speech tonight will be one of concession," she says hurriedly, her face flushed with excitement. "This is a momentous occasion, and we're all a part of it, aren't we?" Lady Lotheed thanks you all again for accomplishing your tasks, confirms the promise of a bonus in your payments, and pulls out a small envelope.
"This is a message for Kalbio of Breezy Creek," she says, gesturing towards the peasant about to be exalted to lordship. "His parents couldn't afford to come to the ceremony, and have asked that this be delivered on the morrow, after all the pomp and circumstance has worn off. If one of you could take responsibility for this, as one last favor for me, his parents and myself would appreciate it."
Any request for payment will be met with an agreement to discuss it after the speech, as the crowd surges, everyone trying to take a place on the senate floor, Lady Lotheed among them. You also find yourself swept up in the tide, and end up in the Senate floor, near the back, right as the doors close.
Hundreds of dignitaries, senators, and visitors have crammed
onto the senate floor along with you, while 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 the Ulfen Guard and senatorial staffers assign people to positions on the floor based on influence, preventing anyone from getting closer than their status would allow.
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 a thrilled-looking man in noble attire—the soon-to-be elevated commoner, Kalbio—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 this 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.
Kyralina is not so crass as to ask for money then and there, and she also realizes that the true benefit of this evening is in the connections she made, not the gold. After all, she was introduced to the Princess, and the future ruler of Taldor thanked her! The weight of what has just transpired tonight in the Senate begins to sink in, but she doesn't have much time to dwell on it before they are ushered in to witness the Exaltation.
Emboldened by her recent successes, the young woman dares to mutter under her breath as the Grand Prince begins his speech, after making sure that only her companions are nearby. "Bitter much? Have some dignity." Just as she says that, she notices movement from the corner of her eye and the black-clad guards now blocking the exits. She snaps open her fan to cover her mouth and nudges Izalco.
"Those people in black, are they part of the usual Senate proceedings? They look a little odd."
Larin takes the message from Lady Lotheed.
I will deliver it, milady. - she says, not extending too much.
Later, as the Price speaks, Larin puts an effort to not express any more disappointment with the man. Yet, she seems too distracted to notice anything else going on.
When Kyralina points out the guards, though, she swiftly moves her hand towards her peace-bound sword, as if trying to start loosening the laces. She was concerned - especially after all the nefarious details she heard from spying on the High Strategos - but didn't want to alarm the people in the gala.
Remember, guys... They said something was going on after the speeches. Be ready! - she whispered to her companions.
As the applause abates, a hulking Ulfen Guard pushes Kalbio forward, almost knocking the commoner down as he awkwardly regains his balance beside Grand Prince Stavian.
The leader of Taldor maintains his calm, placing a hand on Kalbio’s shoulder without ever taking his eyes off the crowd.
“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 awkward Kalbio closer to his side. “But unlike you, Lord Kalbio, these Taldans—my children, truly—are not grateful. They scheme and plot, dream of hanging their dutiful father and placing a woman—a woman, sir!—on the Lion Throne! And they have seen fit this very day to induct you into their conspiratorial ranks. And that is why here, now, you, Lord Kalbio, will be the first among them to die.”
And with that, the Emperor of Taldor plunges a jeweled dagger between the ribs of the astonished man in his clutches.
While Stavian’s accusations stun the crowd, Kalbio’s blood showers the front row of the senate floor. Kalbio mouths “Ma...ma...pa...” before he collapses to the stage in a heap. A red-stained Princess Eutropia defiantly stands among the nobility, staring up at her father in disbelief. Casting aside cloaks to reveal armor and blades, the unidentified soldiers in the chamber already begin moving to cut down the attending masses in a wholesale slaughter.
As the chaos and pandemonium increases, a swordsman dressed in black wades through the crowd and begins to cut down senators and nobles around you. The way behind you is blocked, and he turns and begins to press his attack.
Kyralina finds the Grand Prince's speech in poor taste - the man simply cannot stand not to be the center of attention, can he? - but her distaste quickly turns to astonishment, and then fear as the poor bumbling ex-commoner is stabbed through the chest. That fear rises into panic as black-clad people she had noticed earlier begin to cut down people, and she shoots a look of disbelief at Stavian. Was he really going to allow this to happen? Wait, did he plan this? Her racing mind recalls Larin's suspicions and misgivings, and cold fury washes over her. What kind of father murdered his children? No, it was all b~+#*~!$, all his wounded feelings and posturing. What an utterly vile man!
Fumbling with the voluminous skirts of her dress, she reaches for her own dagger, the one that Jaspender had stolen for her, puts her back to the wall and menaces the approaching swordsman (even if her hand is shaking a little).
"Our great ancestors are watching! Even in dire straits, even when betrayed by those who should protect us, we shall not back down, we shall not bow, we shall not fear!"
Her voice rises with every word, until she is shouting her defiance at their would-be attacker.
Larin starts unwrapping her longsword - knowing the peacebound weapon would soon have to be used for something more than a peaceful ornament.
Fury washes over Olnaris. The royals had flaunted their power for too long and now...this?
He takes a deep, shaky breath as unattended objects around him begin to rise slowly into the air.
"Bastards, all of you!"
He clenches his fist as a nearby cup hurtles towards him, abruptly redirecting towards the swordsman with a gesture, striking him in the chest.
The swordsman grins as he steps forward, but that grin quickly turns into a scowl as the cup shatters across his face, cutting and nearly blinding him. Wiping blood away from his face, he steps forward and swings at Olnaris.
The blade swings forward, cleaving across Olnaris' chest. Just as the blade begins to cut into the fabric, there is a blinding flash of light, and when it fades, only silence, darkness and the smell of cold earth remain.