#prioryedit

🗡 Sabran IX (The Magnificent), Thirty-Sixth Queen of Inys & Eadaz du Zāla uq-Nāra

‘I think you a self-righteous fool whose head is harder than a rock. And I would not change you for the world.’

The Rose Eternal rocked on the water, tilted by the east wind. It was this ship that would bear them across the sea to Yscalin. ‘This,’ Kit declared as they walked towards it, ‘is a fine ship. I believe that I would marry this ship, were I a ship myself.’ Loth had to agree. The Rose was battle-scarred, but very handsome – and colossal. Even on his visits to see the navy with Sabran, he had never laid eyes upon such an immense ship as this ironclad man-of-war. She boasted one hundred and eight guns, a fearsome ram, and eighteen sails, all emblazoned with the True Sword, the emblem of Virtudom. The ensign attested that this was an Inysh vessel, and that the actions of its crew, however morally dubious they might appear, were sanctioned by its monarchy. A figurehead of Rosarian the Fourth, lovingly polished, gazed down from the bow. Black hair and white skin. Eyes as green as sea glass. Her body tapered into a gilded tail. Loth remembered Queen Rosarian fondly from the years before her death. The Queen Mother, as she was known now, had often watched him at play with Sabran and Roslain in the orchards. She had been a softer woman than Sabran, quick to laugh and gamesome in a way her daughter never was. ‘She’s a beauty, right enough,’ Gautfred Plume said. He was the quartermaster, a dwarf of Lasian descent. ‘Not half as great a beauty as the lady who gifted her to the captain, mind.’ ‘Ah, yes.’ Kit doffed his feathered hat to the figurehead. ‘May she rest for ever in the arms of the Saint.’ Plume clicked his tongue. ‘Queen Rosarian had a merrow’s soul. She should have rested in the arms of the sea.'

⚓ Captain Gian Harlowe & Rosarian IV, The Merrow Queen, Thirty-Fifth Queen of Inys

‘Captain,’ Ead said, and Harlowe grunted, ‘at the Inysh court, there are rumours about you, spoken deep in the shadows. Rumours that you courted Queen Rosarian.’ She watched his brow darken. ‘They say you meant to take her to the Milk Lagoon.’

‘The Milk Lagoon is a fable,’ he said curtly. ‘A tale whispered to children and lovers without hope.’

‘A wise young woman told me once that all legends grow from a seed of truth.’‘Is it you or the Queen of Inys who desires the truth?’

Ead waited, watching his face. Those eyes were in a distant past.

‘She was never much like Rose.’ His voice softened. ‘She was night-born, you know. They say that makes a child grave . . . but Rose came into the world at the lark’s calling.’

⚖ Igrain Crest, Duchess of Justice, Lady High Treasurer of Inys

‘I am the heir of Dame Lorain Crest, the Knight of Justice.’ Crest spoke in a measured tone. ‘She who ensured that the great duel of life was conducted fairly, who weighed the cups of guilt and innocence, who punished the unworthy, and who saw to it that the righteous would triumph always over the sinners. She who was most beloved of the Saint, whose legacy I have lived to defend.’