Your wand of dimension door easily gets you into the ambassador’s apartment. Ambassador Kyniar’s spacious parlor is tastefully decorated with plush carpets, comfortable chairs, a bookshelf stocked with popular Chelish and Taldan works, and beautiful statuary. A wide bay window to the south provides a commanding view of the southern skyline of Parego Regicona and Westcrown Island.
Kyniar is currently relaxing in this room when you arrive. He imperiously demands that you leave immediately, loudly proclaiming his diplomatic immunity.
Unfortunately for the ambassador, however, Kyniar has old enemies who have chosen this time of upheaval in Cheliax to strike against him. Years ago, the paladin defeated a band of murderous fey preying on druids in the Verduran Forest, but the fey had powerful allies who are finally seeking revenge by dispatching a fiendish ankou to assassinate Kyniar.
The shadowy fey teleports into the room mere moments after you arrive. However, it is not anticipating fighting the likes of you, and you are able to swiftly defeat it and apprehend the ambassador. You summon some barbed devils to drag the ambassador to Egorian to await the queen’s punishment.
***
Now that you have sufficiently weakened the Glorious Reclamation’s hold on Westcrown and primed the city for reconquest, you can move on to their final mission: defeating the Glorious Reclamation’s founder and leader, Lord Marshal Alexeara Cansellarion, who has taken refuge in the Korradath, the pre-Thrune royal castle that is now the seat of the Iomedaean crusade.
High Priest Jarvaxus eagerly presents you with a piece of secret lore he has just obtained. The Korradath is a fortified stronghold, well defended by the Glorious Reclamation’s knights and allies, but rumor holds that vaults beneath the fortress allow surreptitious access directly into the Korradath’s heart. These dungeons have been sealed for a century or more, however, and knowledge of their entrances has been long forgotten or concealed. Fortunately, secrets are a popular currency in Hell, and Jarvaxus has successfully negotiated with many of the Pit’s rumormongers for this lost knowledge.
According to thr priest, a hidden entrance to the Korradath’s vaults lies beneath Vaneo Drovenge, the manor of the shamed and nearly extinct Drovenge family in Rego Corna. Jarvaxus encourages you to find this secret entrance, clandestinely enter the Korradath through the dungeons, and assault the Glorious Reclamation’s leadership from within.
He notes that House Drovenge fell on hard times several years ago after a failed coup in the city, and most of the family was slain. The family’s manor house is now is now in the hands of a single surviving relation named Bestana Drovenge. If you can befriend or eliminate this reclusive scion, Vaneo Drovenge would likely make a safe haven for you to rest and recuperate if you need to temporarily retreat from the Korradath.
Having accompanied the devils to Egorian, mostly so that she complete a truly whirlwind shopping trip Imperia is delighted by the enws that Jarvaxus has for her. "That is useful news indeed. We will begin early tomorrow morning, hopefully entering the fortress before the knights are done with their devotions."
In the meantime she spends the money she has not already parted with in Egorian, does some reading, and goes to bed early - intending to rise well before the sun.
Early the next morning, you sneak over to Vaneo Drovenge. This once-grand three-story manor is adorned with green marble and black slate shingles. Weeds grow through cracks in the stone courtyard, and the windows are coated with grime. Graffiti scrawled across the wide entry gate reads, “Traitors to the Council, Traitors to Westcrown.”
The physical locks on the manor’s solid wooden front door and two servant entrances are all broken, but each door is secured with an arcane lock. That proves little obstacle to your entry. The manor’s entry hall contains the remains of a Chelish woman who has been dead for weeks; the corpse is badly rotted and home to several bloated black worms. This is—was—Bestana Drovenge.
Worn stone stairs descend into a deep basement. Crates and barrels have been piled untidily in opposite corners of the room. Flagstones have been pried from the floor, revealing uneven patches of damp, black earth.
A squirming mass of black worms suddenly form up into the vague shape of a humanoid that turns to face you. ”Who are you? What are you doing in my home?” it inquires in a masculine voice.
"Passing through." Imperia replies. "I care not for your presence here. Stay as you please, I simply request free passage thrugh the tunnel beyond. If you do not comply I will be forced to destroy you. I think it is both of our interests to pass each other by without conflict."
”There is nothing ‘simple’ about your request. I am Riffindi Drovenge, last scion of my family. I gave my life to come here and take the treasures owed to me. I will not just let you waltz around without compensation. Ten thousand gold, or its equivalent value in treasure. Then you may pass!”
"What is your unlife worth to you Riffindi Drovenge? I assume it is considerably more than ten thousand gold. I will let you keep it - let that be your compensation."
Imperia reaches out to touch Jordanna just before she says the creatures name, implanting a spell in the alchemist.
Riffindi rankles at your recalcitrance and prepares to cast a spell, but he never gets the chance, as Jordanna unleashes her outrage upon him and Conna unloads her pepperbox into him. The worms splatter and collapse into a pile of goo and ichor, the few surviving ones scurrying away and burrowing into the dirt to escape.
With the worm that walks' defeat, you are able to head through the secret tunnel into the vaults beneath the Korradath. It winds for several hundred feet before ending at the back of another secret door. The door opens into a wide gallery lined with elaborate columns supporting an arched ceiling adorned with carvings of lidless, winged eyes. Alcoves to the north and west contain stone double doors, each also carved with a winged eye. A search also reveals a secret door to the southwest.
"He should have let us pass..." Imperia says calmly.
When they find this new place, surrounded by the Eye of Aroden she hmmms for a short while. "The secret door first I think." She concludes, "That is most likely to take us somewhere interesting - assuming that you find no traps Jordanna?"
Jordanna shakes her head. The secret door leads to another passage before ending at the back of a second secret door. This opens into a large room. Bright mosaics on the walls of this long hall depict a variety of human greeting customs, such as humans clasping hands or arms, hugging, or bowing to each other. Several small metal tables have been pushed together in the northwest corner. Double doors lead to the east, and a rounded wall scored with rows of descending lines fills the northeast corner. Next to the rounded wall is a panel with a winged eye.
A huge creature rises up as you enter the room. The creature has a thick snake’s body of regal gold banded with black. Its neck branches into 12 human heads, each with a cobra’s hood, although each face varies in its apparent gender and age. Six of these heads constantly shriek and babble incoherently, but the other six speak in unison in a booming voice as they greet you. "Welcome to the vaults of the Korradath. I am Chorus-of-Guises. What is your purpose in coming here?"
"To access the castle above." Imperia replies politely. "I am very impressed by your home - it is quite magnificent."
"Thank you! I take pride in guarding this place, as is my divine mandate from Aroden himself," the naga beams. "It is an honor to live forever here and ensure the sanctity of these chambers." Half of the naga's heads continue to rant and babble.
"In order to access the castle above, the panel in this chamber and in an adjoining one must be pressed at the same time. But a rotten, undead dragon has tunneled its way into that chamber, and thus far, I have been unsuccessful in my attempts to eject it. Destroy the monstrosity, and I shall allow you to pass, so long as you do not take any of the treasures stored within these vaults."
"I may be able to alleviate the discordance you seem to be suffering from." Imperia replies. "If I do so, will you lend us your aid in battle?"
Chorus-of-Guises' sane heads look to the others. "If you can help, yes. Over the last century, a slow and creeping madness has begun to overtake me. Aroden only knows the cause."
The naga submits to your magic, and after several minutes, you correct the insanity that has afflicted it. All twelve heads gasp in unison. "Eureka! I am whole again! Thank you, noble lady."
"You are very welcome." Imperia replies with a bow, "It is a pleasure to help a noble being such as yourself. Now, shall we deal with this dragon problem together?"
The naga leads you back through the secret tunnel before opening the doors to the north with a touch of its tail. Several hundred cubbyholes filled with scrolls and tomes line the walls of this tall room, and numerous torn pages litter the floor. A wide balcony with a thick wrought iron railing adorned with winged eye symbols overlooks the room from above. A large, jagged hole, vaguely redolent of sewage,
pierces the eastern wall.
You battle through a group of plague-ridden ropers here before heading through more doors to the west. Splotches of fungus spatter the floor, walls, and ceiling of this room, carrying an eye-watering odor of rot. Several large metal desks have been hurled into an untidy heap in front of a curved section of the wall to the southwest. Near the curved wall is a panel displaying a winged eye.
A legless, winged, white-eyed dragon lairs here. The thing is covered in patches of diseased flesh, squirming with maggots and oozing pus. Its white tail is curled around its diseased body as it pores over several scrolls.
"Your defilement ends now, Rotbreath!" Chorus-of-Guises declares.
The dragon breathes forth a hideous gray cloud of diseased particles!
"You need a breath mint!" Imperia snarks, before oppressing the dragon with terrible grief.
Jordanna resists the disease, but Conna cries out as she sags with weakness and her skin begins to rot away.
Nevertheless, the halfling shoots the dragon several times. Jordanna pounces on it, her spear finding weak points in its neck and tearing its throat open! Hot blood spills all over the room as the dragon thrashes about.
The grief overwhelms it before it can strike back, and it claws at itself as Chorus-of-Guises closes in. The many heads bite at the dragon as Conna and Jordanna attack again, and the creature falls!
"Well fought." Imperia says. "Chorus of Guises, do you have any magic which can aid my companion here? She is badly effected and I can heal only maladies of the mind..."
"We must press on, but I ma glad to have met you Chorus-of-Guises. I hope that we can depart as friends." Imperia offers, seeing no reason to make an enemy under the keep for no good reason.
"Alas, I cannot fix her. But surely you can seek divine aid outside these walls. For now, though, you have earned access to the castle above. Farewell!"
Chorus-of-Guises helps you activate the switches, which causes the curved wall in the room to twist downward like a great stone augur, revealing the spiral staircase that leads up into the Korradath above.
The polished white granite of this grand entrance hall is bathed in torchlight. A curved staircase with gold and brass railings rises three stories through the open center of the room, pausing at landings on the upper floors. Murals on the walls depict significant moments in the history of Imperial Cheliax. One of the murals is unfinished—it portrays Lord Marshal Cansellarion standing in front of the Korradath, giving a speech to the people of Westcrown following the Glorious Reclamation’s occupation of the city. Several brushes and pots of paint sit on the floor beneath the mural.
Resisting the urge to deface the mural Imperia turns to Jordanna. "Invisibility. Conna and I may be able to pass unnoticed - you won't. We need to find the Lord Marshal and end this quickly."
Then she focuses on her innate magic and changes her appearance to match Ladisa once again. "Now, let's go!"
You head directly up the staircase to the top floor. Dozens of battered Iomedaean holy symbols and torn, charred, and bloodstained tabards are nailed to the north wall of the upper hall on the third floor. A small plaque accompanies each ruined relic.
A powerful angel stands guard here. This golden-winged humanoid wears sturdy armor, including a crowned helm with a blank faceplate and a gleaming mirror on their broad chest. Large metal spikes pierce the creature’s arms, hands, and shoulders.
"Beware! An invisible assassin lurks behind you!" the angel says, pointing at Jordanna!
"My gods!" Imperia cries leaping aside and casting silence on Conna!
Jordanna pounces on the angel, stabbing it with her unholy spear. The angel angles the mirror in their chest to reflect the mutated alchemist, trying to fill her with grief and remorse.
Jordanna resists, and the angel resorts to punching with their nailed fists.
They destroy three of Jordanna's mirror images.
Conna shoots the angel several times, but Jordanna only lands one hit, not quite enough to finish the angel off.
Imperia draws upon the hellish power granted to her, pulls out her crossbow and takes careful aim...
The crossbow bolt cracks the angel's faceplate and impales their skull. The celestial falls before it can counterattack again.
"Let us move quickly!" Imperia says to Jordanna, "I don't want warnings getting out!"
She searches the angel briefly for anything of use but it is little more than a cursory inspection before they push on.
Jordanna renews her invisibility as you press on, past a conspicuously empty guard tower--thanks to your successful efforts in the city and the proper use of devils from the Inferno Gate, most of the Korradath's defenders are elsewhere in the city trying to maintain order.
Double doors lead into the central chamber of the third floor. Charts and lists cover the walls of this chamber, hanging above several chairs and tables pushed up against the walls. An image of the city of Westcrown, its buildings, canals, and even trees exactly reproduced in miniature, hovers a foot above the floor in the center of the room.
Lord Marshal Alexeara Cansellarion is here with her inner circle: a trumpet archon and three knight banneret adjutants. The lord marshal is anxious and harried, and she peers at you nervously in your disguise as Ladisa. "Yes, Knight Banneret? What is so urgent that you disturb our strategizing?"
"A message from the basement Lord Marshal. Some sort of passageway has appeared into the fortress!" Imperia reports. "I was sent to request reinforcements in case this is the precursor to some sort of attack!"
"Would Imperia Tanessen be so brazen as to assault us directly?" the archon asks.
"She is as crafty and underhanded as they come. It wouldn't surprise me," Cansellarion replies. "Knights, to the basement!"
The three knights banneret salute and rush out of the room, leaving only the lord marshal and the trumpet archon. Cansellarion sighs wearily. "I will not let her beat me. Not after all that we have fought and died for. Not after we have made so much progress. Iomedae will see justice prevail. She must."
"Forgive me Lord Marshal." Imperia says, aware that she's now working on limited time. "But you don't... you don't sound very confident. I mean no disrespect of course, the Inheritor speaks to you, of course you understand more than I do."
Cansellarion whirls on you. "I have faith, Knight Banneret. The Inheritor has guided me my entire life. This, too, must be a part of her plan. I will stand tall in the face of evil. I will not fall prey to that changeling's wicked enchantments. And I will look her in the eyes when I drive Heart's Edge through her black heart. Then, we will drive the devils from Westcrown and repair the damage she has done."
"I think I'd prefer you to bow!" Imperia replies, dropping her illusion and filling the room with the sheer force of her presence!
The lord marshal gasps as your presence washes over her, but she grits her teeth. "N-no! I will not bow to you!"
Cansellarion uses her divine power to share her defense with the archon, granting it protection from bleeding wounds and critical hits. The archon blows a mighty note on its trumpet!
Close with the archon and destroy it She mentally commands Conna.
"Yes, you will!" She declares to the Lord Marshal, trying with all her might to bend the paladin to her will!
This time, both Cansellarion and the archon fall to their knees! The archon is helpless to resist as Jordanna drives her spear through its chest, slaughtering the celestial.
Tears stream down the Lord Marshal's face as she is powerless to resist. For a few moments, at least, she is completely at your mercy...
"Goodbye Alexeara." Imperia says quietly, firing a crossbow bolt into the marshal's eye from point blank range...
"Iom--" Cansellarion begins to pray, a prayer that is cut off as your crossbow bolt lodges in her brain. She slumps to the floor, dying with her goddess's name on her lips. And with her death, so too dies the flame that was keeping the Glorious Reclamation alive...
"Gather the plans." Imperia commands, dismissing the silence effect on Conna. "Then take hold of my arm, we are leaving."
With a few words from a scroll Imperia, Jordanna, Conna and the body of the former Lord Marshal vanish - leaving no sign of having ever been there.
"Take the body." Imperia commands as they reappear in the Lawgivers Rest. She takes up Heart's Edge and marches forth for the Imperial Palace. She lets nothing get in her way, using her magic liberally to gain access to the Throne Room. As the doors open before her, she unleashes her magic once more and walks towards the throne surrounded by bowing courtiers.
The only person Imperia has eyes for is Queen Abrogail, enthroned and watching the room with a cold and expressionless face. Imperia approaches the throne and kneels, offering up the sword she carries on both hands.
"Your Infernal Majesty, I bring you Heart's Edge, the Sword of the Inheritor, and the body of the traitor Alexeara Cansellarion - executed by my hand at your majesties command."
Then she waits, head bowed...
Abrogail stands and takes Heart’s Edge from you, studying the sword intently. Then she holds it aloft and cackles gleefully. ”Rejoice, Cheliax! The empire is saved! Imperia Tanessen has cut the head off of the Glorious Reclamation, and now it is time for the body to die as well. Notify our generals. We move on Westcrown now! We shall retake the city and crush the rebellion in one swift stroke!”
As her underlings scramble to fulfill her commands, the queen cups your chin and raises your head. ”We are in your debt. You deserve all of the rewards that are due to you. Arise, Paracountess Tanessen. Arise and taste of the gratefulness of your queen and your country.”
She pulls you into a fierce kiss as the throne room erupts in cheers!
Imperia returns the kiss with fervor to match Abrogail's, relief, joy and sheer elation all coursing through her. Weeks of effort and scheming have come to fruition, days of massive effort and danger are over and Cheliax has won. She has won!
"You are needed your majesty." She whispers, pulling back just a fraction from Abrogail's ruby lips. "I can wait, until tonight..."
Indeed, it is the beginning of the end for the Glorious Reclamation. The queen spends the day organizing her forces and setting things up for the rebellion’s fall. Within a few days’ time, the Imperial Army of Cheliax will march upon the city from the north and west and the Chelish navy will sail into Gemcrown Bay. Westcrown will swiftly be brought back under Chelish control, and this time, House Thrune will not let Westcrown slide out from under its stern gaze.
But tonight, it is time to claim your most desired reward. When you make your way to the queen’s quarters, you find Abrogail waiting for you in her bed. She lies supine on the silk sheets, not a trace of clothing on her. And as promised, the Crown of Infernal Majesty is nowhere to be seen.
”Here I am,” Abrogail says, and for the first time, there is just the faintest trace of nervousness in her voice. ”As requested. I have lowered my defenses. I am yours for the taking.”
"Now this is a pleasant surprise..." Imperia replies with a wide smile. The mesmerist went to bed in the middle of the day deliberately to be ready for the night she hoped would come and then spent quite a bit of time purchasing the perfect outfit for the evening.
Said outfit consists of a red dress that can only be called a dress with significant generosity. It has no back, ends dangerously high up and is only held 'closed' at the front by an elaborate pattern of black lace which just about conceals what lies behind it. She also has her hellfire halo, tiny red horns poking out of her hair and what appears to be a pair of illusionary wings, which glimmer in and out existence. Her arms are bare apart from long red ribbons in a criss-crossing pattern, while her legs feature the same ribbons, weaving down to sandals. A black scarf completes the outfit - emphasising the pale column of her neck.
"So..." She says lustfully, approaching Abrogail with a wide smile, "Mine for the taking. That sounds truly delightful!" She removes the scarf from her neck and carefully ties it over Abrogail's eyes, its too thin to block out sight completely, but in the dimly light room it does enough.
"Thank you for your trust." She whispers in the queens ear, before taking a single white arm and pressing kisses down it as she tugs the ribbon on her left arm free. Soon the arm is bound to a bed post and she works her way around until the Infernal Majestrix is spreadeagled on the sheets, each of her limbs bound with a blood red ribbon.
"You remember what I promised, Your Majesty?" Imperia asks, feasting her eyes on her captive. "I promised that you would beg for me..." Then she stops talking and sets to work, bringing all her skill and patience to bear on a single goal, teasing Abrogail and withdrawing just before the climax again and again until the queen forgets her pride and pleads for her release...
Much later, after Imperia has thoroughly taken her gift, to both her own and Abrogail's satisfaction the two women lie together in the large bed. Imperia's 'dress' disappeared at some point earlier in the evening and she is tracing circles on Abrogail's back as she ventures on what might be the most dangerous thing she's ever said.
"You made me a Paracountess as a test didn't you?" She silences any attempt at a reply with a kiss. "To see if I could scheme and play the game of politics as well as all the other Egorian nobles. Well I learned my lesson well - Lavisvia showed me just how women can rise fastest..." The word she leaves unspoken hovers between them. "But there's only one place I would want to rise to, only one person I would ever want to... and I know it's not my place." She silences the queen once more with a finger on her lips. "But here, while we are just Abrogail and Ophelia, I want you to know how I feel. You will always have my loyalty and my love. No matter what."
Abrogail gasps as you blindfold her and bind her to the bed. She shivers in anticipation before erupting into a symphony of moans and mewls as you taunt and tease her for what seems like an eternity. The queen is putty in your hands, and you mold her into exactly the shape you want to...
Later, she turns to regard you with her icy blue eyes. "Ophelia..." she says, licking her lips as if enjoying the taste of your real name on them. "We will have to keep up the facade in public. If the courtiers knew that you had stolen my heart, they would see it as a weakness and pounce without hesitation. You will have to play the game, I'm afraid. But I will cherish your love and affection. I will give it back to you in equal measure. And perhaps one day, we won't have to hide anymore. We can rule the empire together. Just Abrogail and Ophelia."
"I'm entirely certain most of them think you don't even have a heart." Imperia replies, "And I'm afraid." She adds, punctuating each word with a small kiss. "I. Have. No. Intention. Of giving it back."
She smiles. "Don't misunderstand me Abrogail. I love the game, and I play to win. Besides, I can play knowing that I've already won." Her hand glides across the queens pale skin. "And that is perfect. Almost as perfect as you."
Hands wander and conversation ends for some time until finally Imperia has to rise to slip out the palace and avoid the wagging tongues of the court gossips. "One day," She says, lingering over Abrogail's lips. "One day I hope I won't have to leave. I can be Imperia Tanessen-Thrune and lie around on beds while your child grows inside me. One day."
As she leaves she can't help but smile. Never admit weakness. Her father used to tell her. Marriage is for your family, not you. Love if you must but remember always - Family First.
'Well Father... whatever would you say if you could see me now?'
With Lord Marshal Cansellarion dead, Westcrown retaken by Cheliax, and Citadel Dinyar back in the hands of the Order of the Godclaw, the demoralized armies of the Glorious Reclamation have no stronghold to which they can retreat and regroup, and the crusade to reclaim Cheliax from House Thrune soon falls apart as the Chelish army mops up the fleeing Iomedaean troops. Individual knights-errant are hunted down and slain, or arrested and publicly excruciated. Queen Abrogail lifts martial law in Cheliax’s cities, but orders harsh reprisals and excruciations against those citizens who supported and abetted the Glorious Reclamation. For weeks, the air is filled with screams and the stench of burning flesh.
To almost universal surprise, however, Abrogail does not ban the worship of Iomedae in Cheliax, though she does order the deportation of scores of foreign-born priests of the Inheritor. Officially, the Glorious Reclamation’s upstart rebellion was so insignificant that it had no effect on imperial policy. Nevertheless, attendance at Iomedaean worship services declines throughout Cheliax, and most people assume that Thrune agents and Asmodean inquisitors are keeping a close eye on those still openly professing their faith in the Inheritor.
You are lauded for bringing Westcrown to heel and vanquishing Alexeara Cansellarion, as well as for your critical role in quelling the Glorious Reclamation’s uprising. Your success also means that you have fulfilled the terms of their infernal contract with
Abrogail that you signed when you became a Bound Agent of Thrune. As a result, the fate of your soul is returned to you. You still retain the rank of Thrune Bound Agent, but you lose the infernal boon granted by the contract unless you swear your soul to Asmodeus anew.
But you have gained more than you would have ever dared to hope that day you fled Kintargo in disgrace. Hell has claimed its vengeance, and now so have you...
"One more push, my lady!" The midwife's tone was soothing and practised, the voice of a woman who has performed her role thousands of times and wasn't going to be distracted by anything, not even the vast and imposing setting of the Queen's Bedchamber.
Lying on the bed, her fine boned face clenched in agony, Imperia gritted her teeth to keep the moans at bay. "He's... trying to rip me apart!" She gasped, her hand wrapped tightly in Jordanna's calloused fist. Despite the alchemist's vastly greater strength Imperia seems to be doing her best to crush her fingers with her convulsive grip.
"I blame you for this! You're going to pay for..!" The mesmerist snarls, glaring at the pacing form of her wife. Almost everyone in the room let out an involuntary gasp as the expecting mother threatened their monarch but Queen Abrogail didn't seem at all phased by the threats, merely returning a smile to her wife - although it didn't cover up all the worry that pinched the corner of her eyes. Their child, conceived through a fiendish boon that allowed Abrogail to change her shape, was meant to be born two months hence and even the priests of Asmodeus had warned the Queen that her wife and child may not survive the birth.
"I'm going to kill yoaaarrrgggghhh!" Imperia's next threat was cut off by a scream of pain as the midwife reached in between her legs. There was a wet slithering sound and then silence, broken only by Imperia's gasping breaths until suddenly an infant's wails filled the fantastically mural-ed room.
"You have a son, Your Majesty, your grace." The midwife said, handing the screaming child to her assistant to be cleaned. Imperia, her face clearing as the immediate pain is passed, wriggled weakly up the bed, helped by Jordanna's casual strength so that the maids could move in and remove the stained sheets as the midwife handed the swaddled boy to Queen Abrogail.
"How is he?" Imperia asked tiredly, looking at her wife. "A worthy heir?"
"He is fine." Abrogail responded, moving around to sit on the bed at her wife's side. "A worthy heir indeed!" The boy chose that moment to test his lungs again, bawling until his mother reached out to take him and placed a single finger on his forehead.
"Go!" The Queen commanded, dismissing the dozen or so courtiers who had been lingering at the edges of the room. "Go and tell the court of the birth of my son, the new heir to the Empire! He needs a name." She added turning back to her wife and pressing a kiss to her forehead, despite Imperia's sweat-stained skin.
"Maximus." Imperia replies in a tired voice. "His name is Maximus, Prince of Cheliax and first born of Her Infernal Majestrix, Abrogail Thrune II."
"And the firstborn son of Ophelia Tanessen-Thrune, Queen Consort of Cheliax." Abrogail adds, kissing her wife's head once more.
"I love you too." Imperia replies with a gentle smile. "Now go, show our son to the court and receive their praise. I'll be along soon..."