Felicia
**Cyprien de Lysse - The Maith Mansion**

Asgarov had not lied. The chambers were certainly fitting for Lordsblood. They were arguably more than he deserved, since they had been arranged for kings and queens of foreign lands. Lavish and exotic in their own right: Cyprien wondered if the baths would be the same. He had heard tales of communal pools, where nude men and women alike indulged in massive orgies. More Araedian lies probably. He should stop holding onto his assumptions if he didn't want to offend the King of the Isles. His support was vital, and Cyprien could not risk losing it over some cultural misunderstanding.

It was for this reason that he stood ready to depart for the Mizzen as soon as he could, even if he would have preferred to stay in the luxurious chambers. He waited until both his daughter and the senechal were present before adressing Asgarov:

"We are ready to depart," He told Silas.
Cedric
Claude Valmour
The Maith Mansion

Claude let out a low whistle as he was escorted into the Maith home. It was so vibrant and lively. Extremely fancy. Lots of pretty girls. It seemed like it would be a fun place to stay at, after all. Not the stuffy, regal setting he had originally been thinking of. *The Pirate King has taste, I'll give him that.*

After a decent bit of walking, the servant directed Claude to where Cyprien's guards were. He thanked the servant, and then smoothly placed himself by the squad of men. "Hello, gents," He whispered with a charming smile, not wanting to disrupt the conversation of Lord de Lysse. "Miss me?"

"Hardly," Replied the man he was next to. But Claude saw the crooked smile on his face. Claude had already succeeded in charming Cyprien's hired squad of men while they were on the boat together.

Claude glanced over to see Lord de Lysse, Fleur, and Fleur's new lady-in-waiting talking to probably the most thoroughly-groomed man Claude had even laid eyes on. He listened in on what was being said.
John
Puckgordon Snæch
The Maith Mansion

Against Puckgordon's better judgment (he didn't have a lot of common sense), his new little friend came with him, like a darling neckpiece that made him look more exotic than he already seemed thanks to his Melsi complexion. He had changed into a teal and black surcoat that fit snugly and comfortably, and he already dreaded working in the heat with it on, but he didn't push his luck toward anything to do with the King or the Seneschal.

He seemed like a proper Lord now, as funny as it sounded, but with his hair combed back and his shirt tucked in, his pretty-boy features really spoke volumes. He hardly seemed like a beast at all, even with the snake coiling itself loosely around his collar. He just looked... Well, *Good*.

It made him uncomfortable. He felt people staring for a different reason. He knew he didn't look awful, or at least he hoped, he really tried to put himself together after all. The nausea was still present in the pit of his stomach, and his nerves felt like frayed threads whenever he saw someone coming around a corner, but he eventually found Silas... Talking to fancy people again. He instantly stopped, looking back down the hall before creeping forward, leaning against a wall and waiting respectfully for them to be done. He reached up and gently brushed his fingertips against the scales of his friend, staring at the floor.
Rhonda
The Pirate King and The Seneschal
The King's Solar

He pinched the end of his reading glasses between his thumb and forefinger, picking them off of his nose and whipping them to the letter on his desk. The thin gold chain around his neck caught them, and it briefly grew taught as it sent the small circular lenses down to his chest. 

"Vhey're fucking..." Bradai grunted, picking up the paper to reexamine it with his eyes, squinting as he brought it close to his face. 

_The Magistrate has left Taemar and proceeded to the countryside. The area was sparse. People would see me. I can no longer follow her. I will head to the capitol to treat with the garrison force. There is no sign of Queen Charity Lane._

The Pirate King crumpled the parchment in his fist, twisting his face into a deep frown. He threw it onto the desk and placed his hand against his face. All he felt was the cold shanks of the rings that shackled his hand. All at once, he grit his teeth and slammed his fist onto the table. 

"GODS _DAMNIT!_" He shouted, "Tha bitch is going. She's going to—" He picked up the ball of parchment and held it above his head. It was gently plucked from his fist, and the letter was unraveled with deft fingers, so that the script could be read.

"It would appear," Silas began, "That your Wisdom will soon be headed to Sol to—"

"I know!" Bradai shouted. "I know. I know what she plans to do wiff 'im." It had to be a man. Carney would never accept the throne. Caspian and Castor were dead, as far as anyone was aware. 

"A bastard?" Silas asked, rounding around the side of his husband. For an instant, he contemplated putting his hands onto his shoulders.

"Yes." Bradai grit his teeth and stood. "Make sure vhat Caderyn will make 'is speech today. At tha joust." 

Silas moved to speak, but closed his mouth. There was something deep inside him that wanted to go to war. The Isles had engaged in small conflicts in Amoroth, where the longevity of their Kingdom was of no consequence. The Xandrians were not in the position to cross to sea. Not now, and not when Ilona was to take the throne. There was something about it that had set a fire deep in the pit of his stomach. It was something about his King killing their men. Spilling them open. _The sweet stench of death,_ he thought. 

"This is..." Silas stepped forward and nodded slowly, "Surely you do not expect to go, what with all of this..." He looked at Bradai's ringless fourth finger. The battered mess on office carpet had set his chest to fluttering. He stepped closer, moving to put his hands in their rightful place. He wanted to soothe him so badly so that he began to consider the King's words. "We can not wage war if—" 

"I'm not. Ilona will be vhere. She will 'andle it. I was going to 'ide her, but I can simply shift 'er to a position of power, beside Caderyn and my Admira—" 

Silas interjected. He had only spoken for a second. Not even a word. A prolonged noise, the weakest protest.

"She is a WOMAN!" Bradai Maith shouted, every word a knife. "I 'ave grown tired of waiting! Sending 'er..." He threw a hand up in rage, "Galavanting across Marin to discover what it means to be a Shitblood while I protect 'er all the while! I am tired! She is my HEIR!" 

There was a moment in which the both of them knew what was to come next. Silas looked at the ground then, and Bradai looked directly at him, his dull grey eyes boring deep into the Mage. "Say it." He said. "Say it, Silas." 

"What if?" Silas posed the question so lightly it had almost seemed a courtesy. "War is... Dangerous." 

"Vhen we will find anuvher." Bradai placed his hands upon his desk, palms down onto the stacks of cool parchment. He let his fingers move them apart, closing his eyes and sighing. "My heir does not die in battle. She will not be captured."

"Because she would rather die!" Silas' hands began to shake, open, pleading. 

"My heir does not die in battle." Bradai repeated. "Vhere are uvhers. You know vhis. My company could assume control. I will not 'ave my 'opes pinned upon one girl 'oo will never sit my chair wiff dignity. She will win and win the respect uff my people, or she will die and I will choose anuvher. Any man 'oo captures 'er will ransom 'er for everyfing I've built. If she is truly mine, she will figure—"

Bradai rose sharply from his seat, the chair flying out from under his legs. When he straightened them, they struck so hard against the seat of the chair that it sent it crashing to the ground, tipping over onto its side. The Pirate King's mouth was pursed hard behind his curled beard. _"ENOUGH!"_ He shouted. 

Silas flinched and recoiled, his feet catching on themselves. His lunged began to fail him, and his voice came out in a whisper. "But she is—" She began, and although he had talked so silently the King had seemed to hear it in perfect clarity

"I AM SURROUNDED BY SNAKES AND FUCKING MORONS!" He bellowed. His arms hung heavily at his sides, seemingly pulled by the weight of his rings. "A nest of well blooded, affected, suckling fucks! And at my teat! I beat my WIFE!" He shouted the last word, thrusting his fist into the air. "Which one of vhem knew what to do today? When vhey came in and saw? Which one, Silas?! Who?!"

"None." Silas said. "None of them knew. Only you. You told them what to do." 

The Pirate King turned to the Seneschal and laughed, although there was no mirth in it. "Well." He puffed out a laugh, "Vhat's it." He raised a hand and pointed a finger. "We are going to war." Bradai began to purse his lips and shake his head. He turned his finger inwards, to press against his chest. 

"_She will win. We will win,_"