Sabina Merrin sighed heavily as she was handed another report related to the festivities for the rather short notice gala Ileosa Arabasti had decided to have to affirm her control of the throne. The sheer amount of small details required to be overseen by the queen's staff was staggering, and naturally, Sabin's attention was needed on all items of security surrounding the queen's presence. Due, not in any small part, to the speed at which these details must come together.
The suddenness and the size was all a deliberate maneuver to keep any opponents to Ileosa's rule flat-footed and uneasy. If there is any chance members of the Peerage or the noble families did in fact have a hand in the unrest surrounding King Eodred's death, anyone not joining the event would be viewed with heavy suspicion. The agreement with the Order of the Nail had been very carefully worded to include protecting the Crimson Throne from fractious groups identified to be involved in the unlawful displays from the citizens in the past days. The precise wording hadn't been leaked because then clever minds would have figured out ways to argue it within the limits allowed by the Order's charter. Instead, vague and generalized descriptions of the agreement had been circulated to make the Peerage aware the Hellknights would be very problematic for anyone deemed to have a connection with identified insurrectionist activities.
Looking at the pile of paperwork requiring her attention, Sabina almost wished she hadn't talked Ileosa down from her insistence on lashing out at that poor artist girl, Trinia Sabor. The banquet idea had become the obsession Ileosa had acquired immediately afterwards, but despite her success in redirecting the queen's fixation, Sabina had a feeling that door wasn't completely shut, and Ileosa would revisit the discussion before long. Sabina glanced at the report related to the list of attendee's attendants and their backgrounds, when there is a shy knock on the queen's study door. One of the servants helping Sabina sift the paperwork looks to Sabina for approval and after her nod, opens the door.
"Ms. Merrin?" A young woman with pale hair brightening into a beautiful sea-green color at the ends enters the room. As usual, the slip of a girl's gaze darts around nervously still shell-shocked at finding herself here in Castle Korvosa before finally settling on Sabina's face. Even then a tinge of rose creeps into her features steadily darkening the more she spoke. "I-I'm wondering if I will be able to send word to my friends at the Sanctuary soon or possible go home for a bit. I'm sure they are worried sick about me, especially Audrie..." The girl's eyes widen suddenly as a thought occurs to her. "N-not th-that I-I d-d-don't enjoy H-her M-majesty's h-h-hos-pi-pi-t-tality, I-I-I-I-I m-m-m-m-m-m-mean-ean, I-I-I-I j-j-j-jus-*hic*-jus—" Her quiet voice begins to fade away even as her lips continue to move.
Eliana was in the middle of a beautiful flute solo when word had come from the Castle about King Eodred's passing. As Sabina had known things would get rather tumultuous, she'd insisted Queen Ileosa leave and return at once from the party where the performance had been taking place. Ileosa had been rather entranced with Eliana's playing and insisted on bringing the young performer with them back to the castle, so she could hear the rest of the piece. There had not really been time since they returned for such leisure, and the poor thing had been sequestered in her room (mostly by choice) while the Queen's tailors and stylists had been fitting the girl for a variety of clothing and styles to be ready whenever the queen desired her to appear or perform.
And now the dear girl was going to be the showcase of the evening's festivities. Sabina could almost feel the fear and trepidation pouring off of her. Rising from behind the desk, she moved across the lustrous rugs and reached out a hand to touch the pretty girl's shoulder.
"There, there. You're going to do just fine tomorrow, and yes, I'm certain you will be allowed to speak with your friends. In fact, we've received word that Brother Theolan and a small entourage from the Sanctuary of Shelyn have accepted the queen's invitation, so you will be able to see them soon. Most likely tonight!"
Eliana's shoulders sagged as relief seemed to fill her, and Sabina was sure the girl would have fainted entirely had she not been held up by the swordswoman's grip on her shoulder.
"Th-that's wonderful to hear," came the faintest of whispers.
"Now run along, and make sure Renor has finally finished your performance dress. And, of course, take as much time as you'd like to practice. Sometimes losing yourself in the pattern and the memorization can go a long way to calming nerves before an exhibition." Unbidden, Sabina recalls stepping onto a dueling square to quiet cheers and claps as she drew her saber and saluted her opponent.
Eliana swallowed and nodded, as always looking directly into Sabina's eyes. "Thank you, Ms. Merrin."
"Now, now. I've told you before. Just call me Sabina. I'm just a bodyguard. I don't have any flowery titles, so Sabina is good enough."
"OK, Ms. Sabina, I mean, just Sabina," Eliana corrected herself when Sabina raised an eyebrow. She started to drop a curtsy then arrested the motion as her face heated up once again. Her mouth moved into some kind of apology then she dashed out of the door in embarrassment.
Sabina shook her head even as she chuckled. There was just no denying how adorable the girl is, and she can understand why Ileosa has been inviting the young bard to their dinners. Dinner. Ah yes, the banquet.
Sabina returned to the desk just in time to be handed another report regarding how to vet the serving staff who had been on leave or caught outside the castle when the riots began and hadn't been able to return. So much to do in such a short time.
Ileosa's vision was crimson as she snapped the delicate stand for sheet music recently placed in her study. After the filigreed holder crumbled in her hands, she swiveled this way and that before realizing there was no longer anything breakable remaining in the room. Sabina stood by at attention, concern on her face.
"He was going to replace me!" she shouted at Sabina for the hundredth time. "That strumpet artist pet!"
"Is that what the paper said?" Sabina asked gently knowing full well it did not.
Ileosa growled. "Well, not exactly. But a dress? Eodred commissioned a dress for her?! What else could that mean? He only started giving presents when he thought he was in love." The audacity of that womanizing bastard! Ileosa could feel her blood heating her face and neck. She knew her marriage had never been about love, but about their lusts: his of the flesh and hers for power and wealth. She allowed him to climb on top of her whenever he wanted and to parade her out as the trophy she was while she gained prestige and power. In backwater Korvosa, Ileosa is more than the nobody noble's wife she would have been back home.
But what would have happened if he had divorced her? She had never gotten pregnant something a young and nubile female should have been able to do...Ileosa's lip trembled, and she sat down quickly on one of the salon chairs displacing the rubble of a ceremonial tea set previously displayed on a now mangled stand. Tears began streaming down her face.
"I-I-I thought I was hic, hic the prettiest w-w-woman in Kor-hic-vosa. Why w-would h-ic replace m-me?" Ileosa blubbers.
Sabina looks crestfallen and rushes to her queen's side, perching next to her on the plush chair. "My queen, you truly are the most beautiful woman in the city. There's no one who can compare." She pulled Ileosa to her breast and let the queen sob into her tabard. After several moments, the queen pulled away and took a deep breath. Her eyes were puffy and streaks of her ruined make-up ran down to her chin. Yet even now the glow of her natural (supernatural?) beauty was obvious.
"You're much more comfortable when you're not wearing that plate," Iloesa said coyly her eyes containing more smoke than the burning city districts. Sabina knew that look well and leaned in placing her lips to her queen's firmly letting her desire be known. Ileosa let Sabina take the lead, and sometime later, among the wreckage of the queen's sitting room, two naked females lie intertwined sweating and sated with pleasure. Ileosa traces a finger on the scar across Sabina's face given to her in a duel sometime in her past.
"Will that always be the consequence of aging? Any other young beautiful girl will steal the hearts of the people away from me?" Ileosa asks in a small voice. "Will you ever want to replace me? Could you ever become bored with me?"
"Never, my queen, my love. Never!" Sabina replies instantly, tilting her head to look Ileosa in the eye. "I will do anything you want to prove it."
Ileosa resumes tracing the scar. "Anything you say? If only I had even more gorgeous creatures like you Sabina. Scarred yet with a beauty I can see and that I know will love me best." She sighs. "I know that now that Eodred's dead, I don't really have to worry about him replacing me as his queen, but thinking about it just...with all these rumors that I had something to do with his death, that I usurped the throne when it's mine by right, I just can't help but..."
Suddenly, another thought occurs to her. A terrible possibility that makes her suddenly suck in air hard threw her gritted teeth.
What if that trollop Trinia carries Eodred's heir?
"My queen?" Sabina said with concern as she felt the sudden tension in Ileosa.
"Anything," Ileosa says softly, "You said you would do anything to prove you won't abandon me."
"Yes, whatever I have to do." Sabina's reply only betrays a hint of her nerves. What could Ileosa be thinking?
Ileosa slowly traces the scar on Sabina's face yet again. A wicked gleam appears in Ileosa's eyes as a beautiful smile replaces the angsty pout from earlier. Regicide, they claim? Oh, I'll give them a king killer. I'll destroy all their plans to bring me down in one simple move.
"We're going to recruit, my dear sweet Sabina. Find other pretty women who understand the value of not bending their necks to these pompous and insufferable self-made patriarchs. They'll be loyal to me and be willing to prove it, just as you have. And one more thing..."
Sabina watched her queen while trying to keep the alarm off her face.
It took everything in Queen Ileosa Arabasti's power not to drum her fingers on the arm of the throne. Before her stood archlictor/paravector/something -ctor/who really cares? of the Order of the Nail droning on and on reading aloud the terms of the contract the Hellknight order and the Korvosan throne had just completed. When Something -Ctor finally finished, the armored man looked up at her to confirm consent of the terms. She make a swift flick of her fingers and her bodyguard Sabina Merrin produces the royal seal and offers it to Togomor, the bloatmage she has playacting seneschal since Neolandus is missing. The disgustingly puffy and sweaty figure reaches out a cream puff hand practically engulfing Sabina's in his own while taking the seal from her.
Ileosa fought down bile at the notion of the man's touch, and reminded herself to make Sabina wash her hand—no, arm as soon as these proceedings were concluded. For her part, Sabina only barely allowed her lips to compress slightly as the slimy looking butterball removed the seal to stamp the contract offered by the Hellknight.
As soon Togomor removed the seal, Something -Ctor produces a long nail, more like a spike, which then turning to one of his subordinates who holds up a square piece of wood, slams the nail piercing the top of the contract into the wood. The man drives the entire length of the nail through in that motion and the force nearly impales the nail through the wood into the armor of his assistant, stopping just short much to Ileosa's disappointment. That would certainly have lent a little bit of fun to these dull proceedings.
Even from here, Ileosa can feel the nail radiating with a pure divine power derived from the Lawful planes. Being out of her control, the nail made her skin crawl, but it made the terms immutable and unchangeable except by great and powerful magic. Without a word further, Something -Ctor and his retinue of Hellknights and armigers turned and departed; the assistant handing Togomor the wood containing the contract for Korvosa's record of the agreement. The Order of the Nail had no need to keep it. They knew precisely what is agreed upon and would not deviate from it. All at once, their greatest and most infuriating quality.
Ileosa sat stoically until the last Hellknight had left the throne room, and her attendants had shut the doors. Then she allowed herself to droop with an explosive sigh of relief.
"Oh, my dear Sabina, this part of being in power is absolutely the worst!" she bursts out with frustration.
Her bodyguard lets out her own small sigh and gestures at Togomor to disappear. The man's beady eyes glances at the queen and he shrewdly departs with the contract wood with a simple nod. "My queen, I know you wish it could all be balls and fine parties, but now that both your husband King Eodred has passed and Seneschal Kalepopolis is missing there is no one else capable of performing these duties...unless you wish to turn to the Peerage." Sabina braced herself for the inevitable fury.
"By all the Dukes of Hell, no!" the snarl erupting from the extraordinary beauty seems so out of place, one would wonder if the queen was possessed by a demon. "This throne, this city, this power is mine now. Those cretins won't get an inch from me."
Ileosa's full lips twist in displeasure and yet still look kissable and worthy of desire. Was it any wonder there are artists aplenty submitting requests to paint and sketch the form and face of Queen Ileosa Arabasti?
She abruptly holds out her hand, and Sabina quickly takes it and helps the queen stand gracefully as otherwise getting up from the throne could be a somewhat clumsy experience in her beautiful full-skirted emerald gown. Sabina leads the way eyes checking all the corners of even the most familiar passages until they reach Ileosa's private sitting room. As they enter Sabina sees a sealed scroll tube very conspicuously placed in the center of the Queen's writing desk.
"It would seem your special eyes and ears have returned with the answer to your inquiry," Sabina says quietly. Ileosa waits quietly as Sabina approaches the tube and allows Sabina to be the one to open it. A simple slip of paper appearing to be a receipt unfolds from within. To confirm no spell triggered by reading has been cast, Sabina glances through the contents before looking up at Ileosa and giving a nod.
The queen approaches and imperiously offers a hand into which Sabina nervously places the receipt. As the she reads the contents, Ileosa's face begins to match the color of her beautiful dark red hair, her beautiful visage twisting into a rage Sabina had anticipated.
"That little b#%!%!!!!" Queen Ileosa screams. She grabs a porcelain vase on an end table and hurls it across the room. Sabina cringes and watches quietly as the powerful fury living in her queen erupts and the room quickly becomes a maelstrom.
Sabina swallows a sudden lump in her throat. Something terrible is about to happen...
Dendren shifted uncomfortably, his hand straying to his short sword and his eyes shifting at every sound. This section of Pillar Hill was lately reporting more choker activity than usual. Dendren was not keen on discovering how much those rumors were true.
The neighborhood homes all had their Devil Lanterns lit, a special kind of storm lantern built into the frame adjacent the door which can only be accessed from inside. The superstition was burning a pint of oil blessed by the Church of Asmodeus kept the imps and other devils from pestering the home and provided protection from other night ills. Dendren's faith in such devoutness ran more towards agnostic given it was difficult to believe the evil church would grant protection from its own deviltry. The oil burned with an eerie red light that did nothing to bring a sense of calm or relief. Instead it only made the surroundings appear in a perpetual bloodbath, the bizarre sinuous movements of the lantern flames queasily made the virtual blood appear dripping and oozing across all that was in its light, while the shadows it created...
His contact better show up soon, so he could leave this place.
He recalled the horrible day when he had been received a letter from his mother begging him to return to the family home in Old Korvosa. Upon arrival, a visitor had been present. A most unwelcome one. Discovering his younger sister and brother had been taken hostage by the interests this person represented had almost caused Dendren to stop breathing, but so far they had kept their promises not to harm them as long as Dendren played along to their tune. This upheaval in the city following the announcement of the king's passing, Dendren was certain they were involved.
There was a flicker of movement to one side of the alley, and the retainer hissed and drew his weapon, his hand unsteady as fear made his heart pound. A shadow appeared to dissolve itself from the darkness right next to him, and he bit off a shout while bringing his weapon around. A gloved hand grasped his wrist with practiced ease, and the retainer knew his life was over. He felt the hiss of of air as a blade settled at his neck as he stared into the eyes of a giant mantis head. It was red all over, and he knew it wasn't just the light of the Devil Lanterns that made it so. He ceased breathing and froze.
"Now, now," came the out-of-place melodious voice with which Dendren was familiar. "I thought we agreed to be civil during these exchanges." The hand gripping his wrists twisted sharply, and Dendren released the short sword to ease the pain. The red-gloved hand released him and caught the falling blade between the fore and middle fingers, clasping the sharpened edge with skill born of training Dendren knew was beyond normal. The assassin's blade pressed into the flesh of his neck.
"Do you have what was requested?" the astoundingly pleasant voice came out as a breathy whisper almost making the man forget the mortal peril he found himself.
"Ye-yes," Dendren swallowed to regain his composure. "It wasn't easy. A group of do-gooder citizens came by and almost disrupted the whole thing." He a felt a phantom twinge in chest where he was certain he'd been stabbed to death. "But, I-I was able to slip back out later."
He slowly moved his now unarmed hand to a pouch to retrieve a folded slip of paper and offered it to the terrifying woman. A sudden flick of her hand sent the short sword slicing through the air to slip directly into the dirt between two paving stones with barest of *thuds*. Dendren hadn't needed a reminder of how deadly she was, but she never shied away from making it clear each time they met. She made the offered paper vanish somewhere into her assassin's garb, but made no move to remove the blade from his throat. She remained before him, the bulbous eyes of the mantis hood staring him in the face.
"Do-gooders, you say? Tell me more," she commanded after an age of nerve-wracking silence. The blade moved away from his skin, and Dendren let out a ragged breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Before he knew it, he was describing the group in great detail, even how he was sure one of them had killed him.
"Ah, how lucky for you," she breathed softly. "I'd almost decided this meeting would be our last, but this band of happy heroes sounds like it might be interesting. I want you to find out more about them." She tapped her blade on his neck. "Now as usual, close your eyes."
Dendren could hear his heart pounding as the part to which he most looked forward and simultaneously dreaded started. The soft rustling as she removed at least a portion of her mask. As always, her lips were soft and moist, her tongue invaded his mouth, one hand gripping the back of his head. His thoughts spun and he had to forced himself to remain still and not respond despite the inappropriate eroticism of the moment. Soon enough (too soon?) it was over, and she pulled back biting his lower lip until it slipped from between her teeth. She sighed heavily as if awakening from a dream. Her gloved fingers slowly untwisted from his hair.
"Next time, I just may slit your throat, Dendren Agavel. I keep imagining your blood on my lips and my hands. The thought of it..." Her beautiful voice trailed off into silence. There was no further sound aside from the creak of a nearby shop's hanging sign.
He counted to ten and then opened his eyes. He was alone. Nothing but the queasy light of the Devil Lanterns approached him. He clutched his stomach as it churned with the stress of the moment. I have to get back, he told himself. Start moving!
Dendren snatched up the short sword and didn't even bother to sheathe it before he started jogging through the empty streets praying he didn't run into anyone who knew him.
