Heather
Cecilia Lyanah
The Council Room

When Heath spoke for her, Cecilia furrowed her brows in confusion as she stared towards the ground. She didn't know how to react. Perhaps he was just as confused with his actions, knowing the two of them had a long history yet she had threatened his family and injured his Mistress. When he began questioning her motives, Cecilia slowly shook her head while exhaling deeply before raising her gaze until they met his. 

"How long have you known that *Child*? More than than two decades? Probably since he was born? That hardly makes him a child. In fact, he is a killer just like myself. He is no longer wearing a disguise yet you are all too blind to see who he truly is. I was doing you all a favour by taking his leg." She responded before casting her gaze towards the rat. "He stuffed his own foetus sister in a Jar. Doesn't that say a lot about his own character? He has just as many bounties on his head as I do on mine and what was he doing when the Duchess got attacked? She got attacked because he used her as a damn shield!" 

Towards the end of her small speech her voice began to raise until she was close to shouting.
Robert
Prince Nickles
The Council Room

"I am eleven years old," Prince Nickles piped up, "Perhaps younger now that you've taken off the better part of my leg."
Heather
Cecilia Lyanah 
The Council Room

"You have been Eleven years old for over a decade! How is that even possible?! You should be twice that age by now." She argued back.
Katherine
Anyanka Durkhan
Council Room

"He did step behind me and grab my legs to put me between himself and the shifter." Anya confirmed, although quietly.
Robert
Prince Nickles
Council Room

"And a poor meat shield you were," Nickles tutted at Anyanka.
John
**King Dennon Bigsby
A Trial With The Worst Defense He Had Ever Witnessed**

Dennon rubbed his brow using a free hand with his eyes closed, listening to the girl confess to being a murderer at a murder trial before leaning over to whisper in Kirk's ear. "If I ever met Dack again, I was going to tell him that he wasn't the last shifter, that I had found a female of his kind, but I'm getting the feeling this one will be dead before we ever get back to Ibethiel. No wonder they're going extinct."
Robert
Sir Heath Romanov
Council Room

Heath blinked as Cecilia confessed to being a killer. "Well, it seems she did not intend to kill Duchess Anyanka. She should be sent off with the paladin as punishment," Heath said with a shrug. "Watching an execution hardly seems like a priority for this meeting and the paladin offers a fine solution. I have no doubt that he can handle her."
John
**Kirk Pinewood
Throne Room**

Kirk leaned over to whisper back. "They called her Cecilia. Isn't she the shifter Cleburn wrote about in his journals?"

Dennon's eyes shot open and stared at the accused woman.
Katherine
**Anyanka Durkhan
Council room. **

Angelica tensed. 
Mikhail tensed. 
Anyanka blinked, and her brow furrowed deeply "She said she would start her murder spree with me, Heath, the intention was _very_ clear!"
Heather
Cecilia Lyanah 
The Council Room

She rolled her eyes for the millionth time today when Anya spoke. "I lied. Why do you think you're still here in this room with a heartbeat?"
Katherine
Anyanka Durkhan
Council room.

"The same reason Bradai is here: because you've got shit aim."
Heather
Cecilia Lyanah 
Council Room

"Bradai is constantly surrounded by his Pirates and Silver. You on the other hand? That would have been too easy but I didn't."
Shelly
Charity Lane
Vallen, Taemar just before the trial started

Charity was quite surprised when the Pirate King approached her so casually. While she certainly respected Bradai Maith, she'd also made her dislike for the man very well known. The fact that the Wisdom accompanying her was also making deals with him was rather strange, but perhaps she was taking initiative with and offhand comment Charity once made, "A talk between the three of us would do well. I had actually wanted to speak to you about trade and another proposal anyway so this works out quite well."


Charity Lane
Vallen, Taemar now

It had been some years since Charity had seen Nickles Ramsalot two Councils ago, but she could be sure this Clarabella Cooch was Nickles through and through. Between Nickles appearance, a fetus, and personal attacks this trial was more of a farce than Nickles' trial.

A mention of an origin to the plague caught her attention, but she couldn't help but feel like the information was soon buried under an avalanche of more farcical trial.
Robert
Sir Heath Romanov
The Council Room

"You were not her intended target," Heath said, "I'm thankful that she did not murder you because she could have, if she wanted to. You were being held in place and she was too fast for me. That is not to say that she was *Justified* In what she did. She should be punished severly and I think that the paladin offers a fair solution."
Heather
Cecilia Lyanah
The Council Room

*A solution that simply delays my death.* She commented to herself.
Katherine
Anyanka Durkhan
Council Room. 

Her tongue moved over her teeth and she shot Romanov a look she never thought she would. She rose from her seat, and Angelica subtly raised her hand from her lap, revealing a palm sized daggar. Anyanka snatched it, circling the table to the shifter. 

She had been gifted a shawl by someone earlier, but she was otherwise nude, and looked unarmed. As unarmed as a shifter could be. Anya moved to stand before her, and in a swift motion pushed the blade into the shifters belly. 

It wouldn't kill her, she'd personally had a blade this size in her hip once, so she knew that for a fact. Still, warm blood pooled where her hand curved on the hilt. 

"This trial is over. Give her to the paladins, but if she survives them and steps foot in my territory I'll have her head." Anya held the shifters gaze, fury behind her eyes but knowing she couldn't react further without incident. She withdrew the daggar, and turned to leave. 

"Prince Mikhail Durkhan-Maith speaks for Astoria in my absence." She announced, feeling like she would vomit and needing to get out of the room.
Robert
Sir Heath Romanov
The Council Room

He looked away when Duchess Anyanka plunged her dagger into Cecilia. It would not kill her, nor would it leave a lasting wound, and yet it was not something that Heath cared to see. He himself had plunged his silver sword through Cecilia's lung. He had done so in a moment of anger and fear for Anyanka's life. Hurting Cecilia while she was helpless and vulnerable in front of the council, at the trial that would determine whether she would be executed, seemed excessive. He grit his teeth, jaw flexing at the motion. 

King Gregor barked with laughter as blood spilt from the Shifter woman's womb. "That's that, then. She belongs to the paladins," He said, "Take a ten minute break and then we will reconvene for the council. Lord Bennard has his announcement and the paladin can illuminate us on the source of your plague."

Heath stood, muttering something about needing a cigarette, and exited the room. As the doors slammed shut behind him, he wasted no time in lighting his cigarette on a lit sconce and bringing it to his lips.
Heather
Cecilia Lyanah
The Council Room

Being stabbed in the stomach wasn't fun. Being stabbed three times within twelve hours was pain in the fucking ass, especially when she was still recovering from her silver inflicted wounds. A groan left Cecilia's lips as the dagger was stabbed into her stomach but refused to allow her legs to give way from the pain. She wasn't going to show weakness in front of a bunch of humans. "Why not stab me again, just for good measure?" She muttered to herself quietly enough so no one else could hear it.
Robert
Prince Nickles 
The Council Room

"Mayhaps the lady bleedth," He said, nodding at Cecilia.
Shelly
Charity Lane
The Council Room

Given what happened the night before, Charity understood Anya's attack against the shifter. But even so, Charity had never seen this side of Anya before and was stunned to see it. With the mention of a small intermission between events, Charity stood up from her seat to catch up to the departing Queen. In light of her injury it should take but a moment. "Hey Anya, hold up a second"
Charles
Lady Anna Barrmount
Grunewald Castle, Vallen

Anna didn't know how she managed to not scream when Anya stabbed Arabella. Her eyes went wide and her hand clasped over her mouth as she gasped and her breath got shaky.

*Brutes, barbarians! That's what they all are...* She thought to herself as tears dwelled on her eyes from witnessing such an act.

Anya had just stood up and straight up stabbed the person being judged, and everyone was ignoring that a doubtful *Dame* Was there being accused of being an immortal and with a shit cover for it.

Would she end up the same way? She had heard enough from the royalty of the room to know they would barely hear her, who knows if they would all agree with Gregor and just decide to give the north to Vivayn?

Loneliness set in her heart and coated it with it's vile sentiment. They were alone, the north was alone, and if no one would help the north then the north would have to save itself. 

Anna clenched her jaw, her head spinning thoughts she believed impossible for her before.

*If this is what fate decided, then I hope fate is ready for a dissapointment*
Kari
Vex Gresham
Council Room

"As always, the brilliance of the Taemar royalty let's reason pave the way!" Vex dramatically bowed a final time, his hand sweeping so low to the ground it probably needed to be disinfected. The man then leaned against the cage, his right arm propping itself above his head.

"Now then, my dear. Don't go anywhere while I fetch a trolley!" He chuckled, his lips giving away to show his pointed smile.
Heather
Cecilia Lyanah
Council room

She looked towards Vex with narrowed eyes as she felt her wound already begin to heal before raising both her hands so she could flip him her middle fingers. "Again, Fuck. You."
Kevin
Danico Felrantres
Council room, Vallen

Danico sat, arms crossed, smoke plumes rising from his mask as he darts his head from side to side, following the conversation. He didn't find himself with much to say at the whole debate, other than noting that this *Clarabella Cooch* Was clearly some child in disguise. Though he sighs as the Dutchess Anyanka plunges a blade into the shifter, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air, an eyebrow raised in partial curiosity, partial judgment at the crowd's lack of self control. It reminded him as to why he chose not to associate himself with the rich. Though, should the days events go the way he hopes, that may change.
Kathleen
Valentine Godwin
The council room

Viola covered her mouth, hiding a gag after watching the queen stab the shifter. *How very fucking barbaric*.
Lawrence
Bennard Wrencrest
The Council Room

Bennard clutched the scroll against his breast as Anyanka stabbed the woman. *By the gods, Felix was right—these people are ruinous!* He expected the accused to cry out and fall to the ground, yet she remained quiet and still. The stories about the shapeshifters were true, and apparently, this woman was, indeed, one of them. The thought of such a deadly creature being present in the castle filled him with apprehension; into what other dangers had he walked his poor daughter and niece?

Surprisingly, the situation seemed to deescalate from there. When Gregor announced an intermission and affirmed his investment in Bennard's imminent contribution, the lord's body lost much of its tension. He returned to his seat beside his wife.

Adelhayd began rubbing the back of his neck comfortingly, but her eyes turned to Anna. "May I ask what the 'long story' is, Anna? How do you know that creature?"

Ivagneth & Feineth Wrencrest
The Council Room

"Are you Sir Heath?"

Feineth was staring at him from the far end of the landing with wide, fascinated eyes. With her angular features and pale colours, she almost looked like a phantom, dressed in the image of the midnight heavens. Ivagneth stood behind her, curiously eyeing his cigarette. Jade was cradled in her arms, a feline of distinct Trenton breeding.

Kallophon Dikegora
The Council Room

Kallophon had heard the stories. He knew that 'shifters', which, it now appeared, *Were* Real, were impervious to unsilvered weapons. He figured that Queen Anyanka knew that as well; walking up and stabbing Cecilia in the belly had been nothing but a show of power. And oh, that exit! Kallophon grinned brightly at her as she walked out. Now *That* Was the kind of monarch for whom he would gladly perform; one who kept nothing hidden.

His primary target for patronage—matronage?—had now departed, possibly for the entirety of the intermission, but he still decided to get a tune out. He stood off the windowsill and made his way over to the throne, bowing before King Gregor.

"I shall play a piece now, Your Majesty. I shan't ask that you command a silence as you did yesterday, that won't be necessary this time around. I say, may those who wish to listen listen, and may the rest perhaps find some distant comfort in the ambience of my notes."

He turned to Wilhelmina and was about to speak when his eyes caught the glinting of her hairpin. The sight of that silver dragonfly struck him dumb on his feet, and in a breakdown of his facade, his face softened considerably as he ruminated upon the item. He thought he heard something cracking elsewhere in the room. He shook himself out the daze and gave the princess a warm smile. "Your Highness, do you still have my handkerchief? I only need it for a short while, and then you may keep it until I depart." He wondered if it was unmannerly to be all 'you *May* Do this until' to a royal.
Charles
Lady Anna Barrmount
Grunewald Castle, Vallen

"It is not a mere creature, Arabella is a friend" She responded to Adelhayd in a discreet voice "I got lost last night and found her, we maintained a rather pleasant conversation"

Worried eyes fixed over the shifter as her sentence was dictaminated. Would Anna be able to help her?
John
**King Dennon Bigsby
Throne Room**

Dennon shook his head as Anyanka stabbed Cecilia in a sudden horrifying act of vigilantism. *Don't pity the shifter.* Dennon thought to himself. *Pity the people of Astoria and South Feyshore who have an Amorothian ruling them.*
Rosa
The Pirate King Bradai Maith
The Council Room

Bradai Maith placed a hand on his stacks of papers and looked over to Rhetto and Gitten. He gave them an uncharacteristically warm and reassuring smile before returning to his work. For the first time in living memory, the Islanders were well and truly behaving themselves. 

He watched as the Paladin ran out of the room, looking for a trolley to wheel Cecilia out. He had to admit, for all of her faults, she was excellent at getting captured. Maybe some time in the silent monasteries of Northwind would do her some good. Bradai wondered about Shifter tongues, and that if you cut one off, would it grow back? He wanted to go up and ask, but he didn't want anyone to think he was taking his turn in the "Stab a prisoner" Game. 

He looked across the table to Mikhail, who seemed to be pretty upset over the whole thing. Bradai wanted to tell him that his mother was a serious piece of work and had somehow managed to make herself the villain at her own assassination trial. Instead, he gave him a shrug. 

"Boy." He said, "You can some over 'ere and sit wiff us, if you like. We promise not to stab anyone out of turn."
Robert
Sir Heath Romanov
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

He leaned his back against the cool stone, cigarette lingering just before his lips as he thought over the events that preceded his solidarity. Cecilia would have to go with the Paladin, a fate that she undoubtedly cursed him to hell and back for. He merely saw it as a way to buy her more opportunities for escape. She was the dumbest person he had ever known, but he figured that even she could bide her time until the chance to escape arose. 

Anyanka was angry with him and, by the withering looks that Mikhail had cast him during the trial, he probably would not be hearing from him. *Are you Sir Heath*? 

He turned his head and looked at the ghostly girl who addressed him, accompanied by a peering girl cradling a cat. He was not surprised that the halls of the godsforsaken castle were crawling with spectors. Upon a second glance, Heath recognized her not as the ghost of a starved little girl, but of one of the Northern lot. The girl's cat was of a breed most familiar. Heath's mother had five while he was growing up. He hated every single one of them. 

"Aye," Heath said, blowing a tight stream of smoke in the other direction. "I beg your pardon, but I'm afraid I have yet to catch your name."


Princess Wilhelmina Grunewald
The Council Room

Princess Wilhelmina reached from under her sleeve and produced the handkerchief that the bard had given her just last night. She silently handed it over.
Lawrence
Ivagneth & Feineth Wrencrest
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Feineth was silent, her pale cheeks turning a striking shade of pink. Ivagneth stepped forward and, taking a light hold of cousin's arm, saying, "My name is Ivagneth, daughter of Bennard, Lord of Wrencrest. This is my cousin, Feineth." She gently deposited Jade into Feineth's hold, then looked Heath over with crossed arms. "What's that?" She asked, nodding towards his cigar.

Feineth gawked at him, her cheeks taking on a striking shade of pink. Ivagneth stepped forward and, taking a light hold of her cousin's arm, said, "I'm Ivagneth. Lord Bennard and Lady Adelhayd are my parents, and this is my cousin, Feineth." Feineth gave a curtsy before she found Jade being gently deposited into her embrace.

Ivagneth folded her arms, eyeing Heath's cigarette. "What's that, Sir Heath? I've never seen one before. And we see a good deal in Wrencrest."

Kallophon Dikegora
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Kallophon took the handkerchief with a gentle hand. He gave her a gracious bow. "Thank you, my lady." He glanced at her hair. "Your hairpin is a lovely addition."

With that, he turned away. As he walked towards the nearest windowsill, he thought about Bertolt. He'd been a chancing rogue to steal from an aristocrat; moreover, a complete *Fool* To rob a *Princess*, especially one of such an uncivilised, unscrupulous household. Still, he hadn't deserved to die for it. He sighed dolorously as he sat upon the windowsill, and, after a moment of gazing upon the landscape of Taemar, he placed his lyre between his knees and clapped thrice in the air. He didn't expect this to get much attention over all the din of conversations, but it mattered little to him.

"Dear audience, I bring a grave tune today. This is a time of great death, and it's shadow will hang over us for long after the crisis itself is finished. For all those who have passed, I pray that they fare well in what lies beyond."

He raised his lyre into position, closed his eyes, and began to play a long, dynamic ode to Lockaster. Soaring, falling, soaring, falling, and onwards into the haze of sorrow, a journey which he accompanied with his voice in wordless expressions of grief ...
Katherine
**Anyanka Durkhan
Vallen, Taemar
**

A voice called out for her behind her, and Anya closed her eyes, tensing against the idea that someone would stop her and _comment_ on what had just happened. She'd let fury overtake her senses, and though it felt _really_ good to get the only vengence she'd likely see against the shifter for having attacked her, she was very aware that the others would either see it as a crazy display of power or a powerful display of crazy. 

She paused, exhaling, and turned halfway to see Charity following after her. Her hand moved to her skirts, idly wiping the blood on the rich colored fabric to get it off her hands. "Charity." She breathed, stopping to let the woman catch up.
Robert
Sir Heath Romanov
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

"It's nice to meet the both of you, Ivagneth and Feineth," Heath said after a momentary pause in which Feineth stared him down. 
 
He snuffed out the cigarette on the wall behind him, crushing the embers until their dim orange glow faded to ash. "It's something that adults smoke. It's not good for you, but it is something to do. I'd advise against partaking, if you can help it," Heath said with a slight laugh. He thought it odd that the north was not accustomed to smoking. He figured that there would be nothing else to do there, between freezing their balls off. That, or the adults were much better at hiding their smoking from the younger ones. "How are you liking the council thus far?" He asked with the flick of his brows. Perhaps Lord Wrencrest should have left his daughters at home. They already wittnessed a naked prisoner getting stabbed in the belly by an angry duchess and there would surely be more discord as the council progressed. 

Princess Wilhelmina Grunewald
The Council Room

The princess brought a lithe hand to her prized dragonfly pin as the bard complimented it. It had been hers since she was born, and she would bring it with her when she died. Beneath the fine silk of her sleeves were angry scratches that she had inflicted upon herself when she thought she had misplaced the pin the night before. Thankfully, Kenmath had found it in a bowl of nettle soup and gifted it back to her.
Lawrence
Ivagneth Wrencrest
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

*The Council?* "I'm disappointed, Sir," She answered firmly. "I thought I'd be inspired, like Mother and Father said, but all I've seen is disgrace. All those horrible things the king mentioned? That *Jest* Of a trial just now? I thought I'd feel like I was watching the work of gods, but I ... I-I honestly feel confident that I could take a kingdom for *Myself*, and make Jade a grand prince." She gestured to her cat as it crawled around Feineth's shoulders. "I don't even know what to make of that 'Clarabella Cooch.' As a Witherlander—a *Well-informed* Witherlander—I've never heard of her." 

Ivagneth gave him an honest frown. "I wish they could be more like your own kin, Sir. I've heard men call you a 'traitor', but, personally, I've seen enough for that word to lose all its effect. You seem a good man to me. A good, forthright man. I know King Daniel to be a very good man also, with a good heart, just like Father ... A-aught to be. And Queen Elsinore—full of poise, just like Mother." She shook her head.
Katherine
**Mikhail Durkhan-Maith
Council Room**

With his mother having effectively ended the 'trial' he looked to Angelica, who looked bored, at best. 
"Why did you give her a dagger?" He questioned, his voice low. "Why did you even _have_ one?" 

The blonde looked to Mikhail, a tired look in her eyes. "Because I thought she might need it. The Romanovs aren't your mother's friends, despite what she thinks of them. They weren't going to let anything happen to the shifter or the kid, and if she did nothing, it would have looked like she was in their pocket." Angelica paused, her attention back on the soiled spot the woman had occupied before the intermission. "She's shown up despite the wound, and proven she's not going to be fucked over by North Shore. They may think she's a bit volatile, but at least they don't think she's a doormat." Angelica mused, her voice low. There was a pause, like she might say something else, but she nodded to the Islanders, pulling Mikhail's attention from her to the Pirate King.

"She's never _been_ a doormat." He countered, and paused when he caught Bradai's eye. The offer to go and sit with the Islanders was tempting, until the comment about stabbing out of turn. Mikhail grit his teeth, and pushed himself from his seat to cross to where the soiled dagger had been tossed aside. He lifted it carefully from the hilt, not wanting the blood on his skin, and produced a handkerchief from his pocket to wrap around it carefully before carrying it out of the room, figuring it wasn't a good idea to leave the damn thing lying around if the rumors about shifters blood were true.
Robert
Sir Heath Romanov
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

"I'd consider this to be one of the more tame meetings, if I'm being honest. Perhaps eveyone's tempers will cool once the recess is over. Trials tend to bring up a differing of opinions in the worst of ways," Heath said with the shrug of a shoulder. The north was more serious, more stoic. They would not be accustomed to the raucous dramatics of southern politics. However, the north was also at a seemingly never-ending stalemate, so perhaps their syrupy way of doing things wasted more precious time (and lives) than it was worth. "Which kingdom would you take?" Heath asked, mildly. He ignored the comments about Clarabella. That was territory that he did not care to tread for the remainder of the council. 

He was surprised to hear Ivagneth's comments. "I do appreciate that you think that of me," He said with a warm smile. It was rare for him to be called a good man. The term was relative, of course, depending on who was asked. The general consensus, however, was that Heath's morals were questionable, at best. "Queen Elle and King Daniel would be happy to hear that you think so highly of them, as well. You both would be more than welcome to visit the Northern Feyorian court, if you ever find yourselves in the Northshore. Princess Cassiopeia and my daughter Serena would adore you."
Katherine
**Mikhail Durkhan-Maith
Castle Grunewald**

No sooner did he step outside the council room was he met with voices. He recognized Queen Lane's, calling for his mother, and Anya's in return. He paused, not wanting to continue down the hall that they were heard from, nor the stairs that the others who had taken to leaving the council room had descended. He didn't want to talk to anyone, and yet, it didn't seem like he'd have a choice. If Anya didn't return for the rest of the meeting today, he'd be taking her place. 

He took a moment alone in the hall, drew in a breath to fill the bottoms of his lungs, and then slipped the wrapped dagger into his pocket carefully. He'd have to dispose of it later. 

Instead, he headed back inside, intending to return to his seat with the Astorian party. However, he paused, and moved over to Bradai, dropping into the seat that had been offered to him a moment before he stepped out to take a breath.
Rosa
The Pirate King Bradai Maith
The Council Room

The Pirate King didn't look up from his work as the Astorian prince sat next to him. He had assumed that his comment about his mother's errant stabbings had offended the boy, but here he was. 

"What do you make uff all vhat?" He asked, setting the quill down across the pages of his open journal. He waved for Ollie to come by and fetch the pitcher. The secretary came behind him, filling up a cup of water for both he and his ward. Bradai took a slow sip and wiped at his mouth with his sleeve, "Drink your water, boy. It'll be a long Council at vhis rate. 's good news about tha plague, vhough."
Katherine
**Mikhail Durkhan-Maith
Council Room**

Mikhail glanced at the page that was open before the Pirate King, his eyes tracing over '_ELSINORE ROMANOV_' written large on the top of the page. He'd seen Maith taking notes during the 'trial', but didn't know why he has written down his aunts name in such a menacing way. 

"A trial and decision that should have been handled in private by the affected parties was made into a spectacle." He answered, watching as a glass was filled and placed before him. He didn't touch it, instead crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward, placing his forehead to his crossed forearms for a moment. He'd never realized how humid it would be, and the heat and yelling was giving him a headache that pulsed at his temples. 

He inhaled deeply, sitting back up fully, returning to a proper posture or as close as he'd get. "They need to reconvene so we can hear what the paladin and the others have to say about the plague. The sooner we get an answer the sooner this council is dismissed. Mother doesn't need to be here, she needs to be home."
Rosa
The Pirate King Bradai Maith
The Council Room

The Pirate King followed the boy's gaze as he read over the rapidly growing list of conspirators in the upcoming trial of Nickles Ramsalot. He pursed his lips and closed the book. "Are you looking for somefing?" 

Bradai sat for a moment and considered the boy's answer. "Vhat's a fair answer." He concealed a smile as the boy leaned forwards, rubbing at his temples. "But you know what I'm talking about. Your muvher didn't bring a dagger in wiff 'er, not in vhose robes. Was it yours?" 

He placed his fingertips on the bottom of the boy's chalice, sliding it closer to him. "If you 'ave an 'eadache, you _should_ be drinking water. One Durkhan passing out is a tragedy, two Durkhans passing out is a conspiracy, and frankly, I don't fink we need any more uff vhose, aye?" He gave the boy a small smile. It was the first time he felt comfortable around him after Amalthea.
Katherine
**Mikhail Durkhan-Maith
Council Room**

When questioned, Mikhail shook his head. "No, more curious what you're looking for." He returned nodding to the book that he had just closed. He wasn't going to push on it further though, and when Bradai nudged his water towards him, there was a moment when he contemplated rejecting it. He wasn't keen on accepting things from others, but he doubted Maith was acting on ill-intentions, so he took the water. It didn't help, but it gave him a moment to listen to the rest of the man's words. 

"It wasn't mine, no." He answered after draining half the chalice that was offered to him. Mikhail cleared his throat. "It was Lady Stafford's, she always has one on her." He muttered, not feeling like that was a secret in any way as he closed his eyes once more. Was it always this bright in here?
Michael
Wisdom Serafina
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

The Wisdom watched the trial with a mask of passive indifference, listening to the squabble of the nobles. 'These are the rulers of the surrounding kingdoms?' She scoffed. 'Such behaviour would not be tolerated by Shitblood Visions in the Abigreth.' At the mention of Nickles Ramsalot, her eyes shot over to the pathetic creature sitting in the barrow. The shouting match between the Barrmount child from the Witherlands was amusing and she was sad to hear it come to an end when Gregor ordered people to be quiet. 

Further discussion of what to do with the shifter disinterested her as Serafina had come to the conclusion this excuse for a trial was really one woman's vindictive call for justice. The shifter had not murdered anyone and, in her eyes, that saved her from death. The girl would face the consequences of her actions in the Neither and the next life. As to how much lower one could go from a non-human. Well, that was for the gods to determine. She had never considered rebirth as a defective plant, but perhaps it was an option. 

The stabbing of the shifter was not was made the Wisdom's stomach curdle, but the attitude of the Duchess. Her eyes narrowed as Charity followed the woman out of the throne room. 'Perhaps the rumours are true, the secret infidelity of Charity Lane. First her advisor, now the Duchess.' Serafina folded her hands in her lap, inhaling deeply to calm the annoyance rising in her chest. 'I sincerely hope the Paladin returns quickly so we can hear his diagnosis and be finished with this circus.' Her eyes glanced back towards the door, waiting for Charity to reappear. Allegedly, the Queen had come seeking a cure for the plague, but upon the start of the plague discussion by the Wrencrests, she was nowhere to be found in the room.