#wneira

Ruby was powerful. She commanded attention with the way she stood, and lust from what she wore. She played the role demanded of her, and the demand now was to be a friend of the queen. It was stupid of her, incredibly so, and she was now putting her life on the line for the chance that the queen might find a man who resembles her brother enough to make her happy.

If she didn’t, Ruby worried for the sake of her beautiful head, and the neck that it sat atop.

She walked through town, wondering through the streets and taking her time, knowing well that this might be her last day on this side of a prison cell. For lying to the queen, for bringing in a criminal...The man who had once owned her would be called kind if that was all he did in retaliation.

Men propositioned her, and she flirted back with as much conviction as she usually had, but fear sat deep in her knuckles and shook her hands where they lay, kit together and folded against her stomach. Sunset was fast approaching, and she would present the man who called himself Leo to the queen. Their meeting point was vague, giving Ruby time to wander further, steadying herself. And when he was found -- just around the corner of a stall -- Ruby took a moment to breathe in. On the exhale, she grinned and walked around.

“You do seem to know how to clean up,” she crooned, smug and confident as ever. “Perhaps you did pick a few things up in your time here.” Coming to a stop before Leo, she looked to him with her wolfish, hungry grin that she usually wore. The only hint of fear remained in her hands, knuckles turned white with how tightly they were clasped. “Are you ready to meet my mistress?”

“Your Majesty?” Ruby said with a gentle knock on the door. She had not had the courage to go to the queen since the news of her father’s death. Everyone mourned differently, and she had no way of knowing what Eira preferred -- company or solitude. But perhaps -- even if she had not been sent for -- it would be seen as a good thing to check on the queen. The worst that could happen was punishment for being presumptuous and coming when not called.

Her veil was usually a silvery gossamer, beautiful and light, and perfect for bringing out the beauty of her eyes, half-obscured but visible still. But the one she wore today was black, with red flowers, covering the entirety of her face. It left a knife in her heart to wear it, beautiful and delicate as it was. This veil had been a gift from another life, the one she preferred to the one she had now. When Clara had been her friend, and Ruby had not lost the girl’s trust.

She knocked again, still lightly, and called with the kindest words she could muster. “If I may, I have not seen you in days, and I’ve grown me worried.” That was good -- that was safe. Or at least, the safest thing that could be said in a situation like this. “Are you here?”

@eiracaddock

It was growing late and the Queen of Nore was nowhere to be found. But her husband was not worried; as he readied for bed, he sought comfort in the knowledge that his wife was likely in their child’s nursery. It would not be long now until Prince Theodoric’s first nameday. Aric was filled with nervous anticipation for the day, to see his son complete his first year of life in Nore. It was a day some babes did not live to see, and Aric prayed to the Gods each and every day that Theo, and his other children, would live to the next day.

He had to pause partway up the stairs, his guards pausing along with him. As if the embarrassment of a cane was not enough--he had to have witnesses to his shame. He quickly restarted, perhaps too quickly, as he was nearly winded when he reached the top of the staircase. When he finally made it to his chamber door, he knocked gently, then pushed the door open.] Eira? How are you feeling, my dear?

Um, which...w-which way to the kitchens?

Truly, your Majesty has never looked more beautiful.

She was in the middle of work. Alexander sat on the table with a jar of teeth, and the Sam slept in the bed, under a spell. It was the only way he could get to sleep. And the young man was off in town, sending Grigor the final payment. She had made clear what would happen if he was gone more than a certain amount of time, and how quickly she would find him in the Wastes should he be even a second late.

She hummed to herself, stringing the teeth together as Alexander handed to her. He was learning how to identify a cat from a dog from a bear, but those were the easiest ones. Each one he got correct went on the string. Everything else was put in a bowl that held a few unmentionable other things. Some of them still bled.

"Rat," she said, holding a hand out.

"Front, back, top, or bottom," asked Alexander.

Ursula looked to the boy with a grin, both wicked and proud all at once. He was too clever, and she almost regretted what would become of him. But a learned child was what she needed, and that would take some time.

A knock on the door interrupted her answer, and Ursula looked to it with a scowl. Why did someone need her now of all times?

"Enter," she barked. "I am working, but I am here."

She gripped the letter in her hands now, wondering if she should have regretted writing it in the first place. Astrid was better at politics, and that was why Sophia so rarely intervened. But the few times she did, it was because she was better at knowing people, and she expected to be listened to.

I spoke to Her Majesty of the Southern Isles at the feast, as was expected of me, her letter began, and each word had been carefully chosen long before she even opened the inkwell. I have been told in the past that my opinions are formed too quickly or through bias, but I confide in you now my magic is irrepressible of late. My opinion is of not her person, but of her very heart, and I ask you to read these words with consideration.

It was formal. Too formal for her liking, but the preamble served its purpose nonetheless. With fear settling like lead in her fingertips, Sophia forced open the great doors to the throne room. The long hall had, as a child, been her favorite place to race herself or her guard, as it allowed just enough uninterrupted running room for her to run out of breath by the end. Now, though, it seemed too, too, too long as she took each step with deliberation. Now was not the time to turn back and keep her fears to herself. Still, something told her to halfway down the hall and wait to be told she could go further. So she did.