Karla's Family Estate, Thursday (Fandom Time)
Karla was somewhat surprised when she and her entourage were allowed to walk to the audience chamber without being stopped. She had half-expected to have to fight the entire way and had cautioned everyone as much, but apparently Hobart wasn't all that keen on having his home damaged by violence and bloodshed. Considering all of the furnishings and decorations that had appeared since she'd left for school, she was trying to guess how much of Glacia's treasury had gone to refurbishing her ancestral home. With all the gold leaf, it was likely a tidy percentage, indeed.
If she discovered that any of the money he'd plundered from her accounts after he'd had her declared dead had gone to the hideous frolicking shepherdess statuary now 'gracing' the low tables of the hallway, she was going to pitch a fit. Irreverent thoughts, yes, but if she focused on all the things that could go wrong once they entered the audience chamber, she was like to go mad.
The changes continued into the audience chamber itself. If one didn't know better, they'd be forgiven for assuming that Glacia's colors were gold and more gold, not silver and blue. And if Karla didn't know better, she'd almost think all the gold was a subtle kind of weapon, blinding Hobart's enemies with the glare off the gold leaf. But Hobart had never been smart, just tacky.
Yet, even with all the gilding, the most blatant change from the time of Ilyse's reign was the lack of women in the chamber. Other than a few servants and trophies of the males present, she and the ladies of her Court were the only females present. Even Ludmilla, the Territory Queen, was absent. That difference chilled Karla. In a land where the females ruled while the males defended and protected, the complete absence of any woman in power was painfully striking. From the murmurs at her back, she wasn't the only one to notice.
But she couldn't let that stop her, or even give her pause. "Greetings, uncle," she said, forcing herself to be polite. "Miss me?"
Hobart looked up at her, the first time he'd acknowledged that anyone had entered the room at all. "Who is this that comes before me?" he asked. "I do not know her."
Karla gave him a brittle smile. "I know it's been awhile, dear Uncle, but I'm sure I haven't changed that drastically. Perhaps time has addled your wits?"
...Polite for her.
Hobart glared at her for that, but didn't deviate from the script he'd so clearly prepared ahead of time. "My niece is dead," he pronounced. "Has been dead these many years. How dare you pretend to be her? Foul usurper, be on your way!"
Mother Night, did he actually think he was in some kind of play? No one spoke like that. "Bullshit," Karla declared, puncturing his high and lofty tone with salty language of her own. "Being declared dead isn't the same thing at all. The bullyboys you sent to my bedroom failed. So sorry." Her smile was all sharp teeth. "I have people here who are willing to recognize me for who I am, including my own cousin, Lord Morton, my old tutor, Lord Mallory. They will vouch for my identity."
"You mean those traitors who now wear the rings that show they are your First Escort and your Steward?" Hobart sneered. "Traitors who were willing to swear to anything you asked in exchange for the chance to be in the First Circle of a Territory Queen? Give me real proof. Find me someone who will vouch for you that you haven't already bribed."
"I will do sso," hissed a voice from behind them. Draca, Seneschal of the Keep of Ebon Askavi stood in the large double doors of the audience chamber, the heavy Blood Registry in her arms. Karla was hard put not to laugh at Hobart's expression as Draca glided forward towards his seat. Many people shuddered at Draca's appearance, even those in her own Court. A human figure with unmistakably reptilian ancestry, Draca was known to unsettle even the scholars who traveled to the Keep to confer with her. Unleashing her now onto a room of people that didn't expect it was almost cruel.
Karla was willing to bet that's why Draca had decided to come and to assist Karla, rather than Geoffrey. They both had wicked senses of humor.
"I repressent the Keep," she said, a cold edge to her sibilance, her gaze pinning Hobart like a mouse caught by a snake. "I have with me the Regisstry of the Blood, the volume where Lady Karla'ss Birthright was recorded by her parentss, Queen Ilysse and Prinsse Audric. Iss there any who would deny the Keep'ss neutrality?"
Mute head shakes from around the hall.
"Exsscellent," she said, a very small smile toying at the edges of her mouth. She flipped to the page that recorded Karla's birth and read, "Karla. A Queen who wearss the Birthright Ssapphire. Sseven yearss old. Healer, and a sstrong posssibility she'ss a natural Black Widow. Livess in the Realm of Kaeleer in the Territory of Glasscia."
"Quite right," Hobart said hastily, trying to regain his composure. "That is--was--my niece's entry. But what--?"
"Sstanding before you iss a Glasscian Queen who wearss the Ebon-Gray, which can only be obtained by ssomeone with the Birthright Ssapphire or darker. Her pssychic sscent provess sshe iss a Queen, a Healer, and a Black Widow, ass does the ssnake-tooth under her right ring-finger nail. No one elsse in Glasscia hass been recorded before or ssince ass a triply-asspected Queen and the darkesst Birthright Jewel in the Regisstry in the lasst fifty yearss bessidess Karla'ss own iss a Birthright Opal."
Which was a fancy way of saying, "Fuck you, Hobart." At least as far as Karla could tell. But Draca wasn't done. "Even if sshe iss not who sshe ssayss she iss," she added, just to rub it in a little further, "any Queen can put forward a petition to be Territory Queen of the Territory of their birth. The sstamp of Glasscia iss ass much on her featuress ass being a Queen iss on her pssychic sscent."
Point. Set. And mother fucking match.
This wasn't going the way that Hobart had intended. Karla gleed inwardly at the way his face ran the gamut to confused to concerned to impotent rage. She caught his eye and dimpled at him. Maybe, if she were incredibly lucky, he'd have an aneurysm and her problems would be solved completely!
And then she had to talk herself out of using Craft to induce an aneurysm right then and there. They were doing it by the book, dammit.
"This is...happy news," Hobart said flatly. "Though very much a shock. Perhaps we should adjourn for the day and--"
"No, I don't think so, dear uncle." Karla cut in, voice sweet as oleander honey. "We have important things to do. We can set our familial reunion aside for more pressing matters. One shouldn't let personal feelings get in the way of the Territory's best interests, after all."
"Quite right," Hobart grit out. "So, then, I take it you're here to attempt to take Glacia away from the rightful Queen, Lady Ludmilla?"
"I don't intend to take anything away from the rightful Queen. But, yes, I am here to assert my claim."
"Ahh!" Hobart was grinning now. "What claim is that? Lady Draca, in your capacity as neutral observer, would you mind telling us all whether there is any requirement in Blood law that the Queenship be passed from mother to daughter, even if the daughter is a Queen herself." He clearly thought himself very clever to have thought of this defense.
"There iss no ssuch law," Draca agreed, inclining her head. "Where there iss presscendenssce--"
"But no law," Hobart interrupted, nodding. "So you want to bring discord and strife to our fair Territory for what, Karla dear? You have no claim. Now, perhaps when Ludmilla is ready to step down, the Ruling Council might consider you as a replacement, based on your strength and bloodline, so long as you comport yourself as a proper witch in the meantime." His lip curled as he looked over her Court. "And stop consorting with...rabble."
"No." Karla dropped her facade of politeness. "I will not do any such thing. Your idea of what constitutes a 'proper witch' is disgusting. I won't let myself be mutilated or my Craft broken in order to bow to your whims. I won't pretend to be less than I am in order to make a male feel superior. And I'll be damned to the bowels of Hell before I give up any of my people, including the landens." Her voice was made of razorblades and broken glass. "And this is my claim. Not my bloodline, not my strength, not even my caste. I am here to cleanse Glacia of the filth you spew, dearest uncle mine. I'm here for the landens and the broken witches, the males who are Ringed against their will and the females who chain them out of fear. I am here to defy everything that you and the Ruling Council stand for and to bring us back to the Old Ways. My claim is predicated on my willingness to end you."
"How dare you come into my audience chamber and threaten me!" Hobart yelled.
"Your audience chamber?!" Karla snapped back. "So you admit Ludmilla is nothing more than a mouthpiece for your sick ideas!"
"I could have you all killed right here and now!"
"Technically, you cannot," Draca said, her calm voice in direct opposition to Karla and Hobart's yelling. She gave Karla a look and Karla hunched over a bit. Right. Cool. She was supposed to be cool. Draca, please stop looking at her like that. "Lady Karla has announssced that she iss petitioning to become Territory Queen. Until that iss ressolved, Blood Law sstatess that any interferenssce iss illegal and iss punisshable by exile."
And thus, the real reason Karla had requested a representative of the Keep be present. Not to prove her identity, but to have a witness there that even Hobart couldn't silence. Whatever happened here today, Draca would see and it was a matter of public record. And should he be stupid enough to harm her, every other Territory in Kaeleer would have just cause to take up arms against Glacia and crush them into the mud.
Watching Hobart come to that same conclusion almost made up for the posters this morning.
"I, err, misspoke," he said. "Heightened emotions as I'm sure you understand. It's still hard to believe that this isn't some imposter trying to take my niece's place."
"Of course, did you wish to have Ludmilla's Court face mine on the killing field, that isone way to decide who is Queen," Karla suggested. She was helpful that way.
Sweating now, Hobart looked around the chamber and then darted his eyes back to Draca. "Are Queens allowed to take part in such an endeavour?" he asked, trying to figure the odds of success or failure.
"It iss unussual," Draca said gravely. "But not unheard of. It dependss on the Queen."
"I volunteer," Karla said, quite deliberately. And deciding the time was right, she dropped a bit of Craft she'd been holding up since noon.
"That's unnecessary," Hobart said stiffly. "Such barbarism is not required here. Not when we have peaceful means of settling a dispute. I call a convacade of the Province Queens," he announced, ignoring that was technically something only the Territory Queen could do. Since it suited Karla's purpose, she let that stand. "Of course, it may take some time for the more northern Province Queens to arrive and they'll surely want to rest after their trip. Perhaps tomorrow morning would--"
"Hobie!" The woman who came scurrying into the audience chamber was at least a decade older than Karla, though it was hard to tell under the curls, the elaborate makeup, and the yards of fabric, lace, and jewelry. "Hobie, the oddest thing just happened! I was in the garden when all of a sudden--"
She stopped short, seeing Karla and the rest of her Court. "Why, is that little Karla?" she asked, gasping in surprise. "Look at you, all grown up! I almost didn't recognize you--" Hobart smiled "--with a decent haircut and wearing a gown!" Hobart slumped again, finally giving up the ruse. "Oh, and isn't that a pretty gown!" she said, clasping her hands together. "I mean, a trifle plain and silver doesn't really suit your complexion, but at least it fits. You look so nice!"
Karla was trying to keep her jaw off of the ground. Ludmilla had always been kind--dim, but kind--but Karla hadn't expected her to come in and welcome the Queen making a bid for her position. "I--I--thank you, Raven, my Court Healer, gave it to me..."
That got her a happy squeal. "You have a Court?! How exciting! Is that why you're here? To let us know that you're alive and well and ruling somewhere else? Karla, I'm so happy for you!" And while Karla stood there and blinked, Ludmilla reached forward to envelop her in a cheerful hug. "Congratulations! I'd wept for ages when I heard you'd died."
That hug was short-lived, however. Karla hugged her back, then plucked her hands from around her neck and gently moved her aside. "You didn't tell her?" she snarled at Hobart, hands balling into fists. "You've been keeping this--all of this--from her?!"
Ludmilla turned confused eyes back to Hobart. "You've known she was alive, Hobie? And you didn't say?"
"I didn't want to hurt you with this news, my dear," he told Ludmilla. "How could I burden you with the news that my beloved niece was indeed alive, but had only come back to try and turn Glacia against you? And, I admit, I was hoping that the rumors were wrong, that it was someone simply pretending to be Karla, but alas, I was wrong. I even had the Keep bring the registry to confirm it. I'm so sorry, my girl."
Now Ludmilla was transferring that look of betrayed confusion back to Karla, and Karla winced. She been prepared to find an adversary to fight against, not a confused girl who'd been so happy to see her alive again. "Really, Karla?" she asked, lip trembling. "You came back for that?"
"Oh yes," Hobart supplied. "She's been marching for months, inciting the entire north of Glacia against you. You remember getting the news that Ladon, Tarren, and Ferrick had died? I have it on good authority that they were ambushed by a group of landens that Karla had been agitating and were murdered. Then they traveled for days, carrying those poor lads' Jewels in boxes, bragging about the kill, rather than returning them to their families to mourn."
"That's a lie!" Karla cried out. "That wasn't what happened at all!"
"So you didn't kill them?" Hobart asked, smug and oily.
"They ambushed us!"
"Well, we'll sadly never know for sure, will we?" Hobart asked. "They're dead now, Jewels shattered. I would be inclined to take your word for it, but it's hard to know what's true, now that it's revealed that you faked your own death so you could find a way to take Glacia by force."
"How dare you!" Karla knew she needed to keep her temper, especially with the way her Court was not-so-silently fuming behind her, but it was getting difficult.
"Are some of the murderers here with you now?" he asked. "The bird-man with claws, perhaps, or the disturbing blue giant? Did you fuck them to say thank you or was that just a landen-recruitment method?"
The audience chamber when cold. In less than seconds, the temperature had plummeted to below freezing. Courtiers shivered and wine in glasses grew a skim of ice. In the center, where Karla's Court stood, ice was several inches thick. A nearby porcelain statuette shattered and icicles formed stalactites on the ceiling. That was enough to make Karla get a grip on her own temper, though, especially as little Alba growled like a feral wolf. *Enough!* Her mental voice whipped through their minds. *Leash your tempers. That is an order. We will not rise to his bait.*
Slowly, the cold receded as her people fought to control themselves and pass her command onto those who would not have been able to hear it.
"You are a sick and twisted little man," Karla said. "You disgust me and so do your insinuations. Call the vote, I am tired of looking at you."
"I'd love to, but we have to wait for the other Province Queens to arrive. The southern Queens should be here within a few hours, but it will take much longer for the northern ones. After all, they have so much further to travel. Unless you'd prefer to take the vote early...?"
"Oh, that reminds me," Ludmilla said suddenly. "That's why I came in! The northern Province Queens are here! They just appeared in the gardens while I was outside with my ladies. Did you invite them?"
Karla gave Hobart a brittle smile. "No, I did. Now what was that about taking the vote early, you bastard gutter son of a whore?"
[Oh god, who let me start typing? This is ridiculously long. NFB, NFI, OOC is love but I won't blame anyone for going tl;dr and skipping.]
If she discovered that any of the money he'd plundered from her accounts after he'd had her declared dead had gone to the hideous frolicking shepherdess statuary now 'gracing' the low tables of the hallway, she was going to pitch a fit. Irreverent thoughts, yes, but if she focused on all the things that could go wrong once they entered the audience chamber, she was like to go mad.
The changes continued into the audience chamber itself. If one didn't know better, they'd be forgiven for assuming that Glacia's colors were gold and more gold, not silver and blue. And if Karla didn't know better, she'd almost think all the gold was a subtle kind of weapon, blinding Hobart's enemies with the glare off the gold leaf. But Hobart had never been smart, just tacky.
Yet, even with all the gilding, the most blatant change from the time of Ilyse's reign was the lack of women in the chamber. Other than a few servants and trophies of the males present, she and the ladies of her Court were the only females present. Even Ludmilla, the Territory Queen, was absent. That difference chilled Karla. In a land where the females ruled while the males defended and protected, the complete absence of any woman in power was painfully striking. From the murmurs at her back, she wasn't the only one to notice.
But she couldn't let that stop her, or even give her pause. "Greetings, uncle," she said, forcing herself to be polite. "Miss me?"
Hobart looked up at her, the first time he'd acknowledged that anyone had entered the room at all. "Who is this that comes before me?" he asked. "I do not know her."
Karla gave him a brittle smile. "I know it's been awhile, dear Uncle, but I'm sure I haven't changed that drastically. Perhaps time has addled your wits?"
...Polite for her.
Hobart glared at her for that, but didn't deviate from the script he'd so clearly prepared ahead of time. "My niece is dead," he pronounced. "Has been dead these many years. How dare you pretend to be her? Foul usurper, be on your way!"
Mother Night, did he actually think he was in some kind of play? No one spoke like that. "Bullshit," Karla declared, puncturing his high and lofty tone with salty language of her own. "Being declared dead isn't the same thing at all. The bullyboys you sent to my bedroom failed. So sorry." Her smile was all sharp teeth. "I have people here who are willing to recognize me for who I am, including my own cousin, Lord Morton, my old tutor, Lord Mallory. They will vouch for my identity."
"You mean those traitors who now wear the rings that show they are your First Escort and your Steward?" Hobart sneered. "Traitors who were willing to swear to anything you asked in exchange for the chance to be in the First Circle of a Territory Queen? Give me real proof. Find me someone who will vouch for you that you haven't already bribed."
"I will do sso," hissed a voice from behind them. Draca, Seneschal of the Keep of Ebon Askavi stood in the large double doors of the audience chamber, the heavy Blood Registry in her arms. Karla was hard put not to laugh at Hobart's expression as Draca glided forward towards his seat. Many people shuddered at Draca's appearance, even those in her own Court. A human figure with unmistakably reptilian ancestry, Draca was known to unsettle even the scholars who traveled to the Keep to confer with her. Unleashing her now onto a room of people that didn't expect it was almost cruel.
Karla was willing to bet that's why Draca had decided to come and to assist Karla, rather than Geoffrey. They both had wicked senses of humor.
"I repressent the Keep," she said, a cold edge to her sibilance, her gaze pinning Hobart like a mouse caught by a snake. "I have with me the Regisstry of the Blood, the volume where Lady Karla'ss Birthright was recorded by her parentss, Queen Ilysse and Prinsse Audric. Iss there any who would deny the Keep'ss neutrality?"
Mute head shakes from around the hall.
"Exsscellent," she said, a very small smile toying at the edges of her mouth. She flipped to the page that recorded Karla's birth and read, "Karla. A Queen who wearss the Birthright Ssapphire. Sseven yearss old. Healer, and a sstrong posssibility she'ss a natural Black Widow. Livess in the Realm of Kaeleer in the Territory of Glasscia."
"Quite right," Hobart said hastily, trying to regain his composure. "That is--was--my niece's entry. But what--?"
"Sstanding before you iss a Glasscian Queen who wearss the Ebon-Gray, which can only be obtained by ssomeone with the Birthright Ssapphire or darker. Her pssychic sscent provess sshe iss a Queen, a Healer, and a Black Widow, ass does the ssnake-tooth under her right ring-finger nail. No one elsse in Glasscia hass been recorded before or ssince ass a triply-asspected Queen and the darkesst Birthright Jewel in the Regisstry in the lasst fifty yearss bessidess Karla'ss own iss a Birthright Opal."
Which was a fancy way of saying, "Fuck you, Hobart." At least as far as Karla could tell. But Draca wasn't done. "Even if sshe iss not who sshe ssayss she iss," she added, just to rub it in a little further, "any Queen can put forward a petition to be Territory Queen of the Territory of their birth. The sstamp of Glasscia iss ass much on her featuress ass being a Queen iss on her pssychic sscent."
Point. Set. And mother fucking match.
This wasn't going the way that Hobart had intended. Karla gleed inwardly at the way his face ran the gamut to confused to concerned to impotent rage. She caught his eye and dimpled at him. Maybe, if she were incredibly lucky, he'd have an aneurysm and her problems would be solved completely!
And then she had to talk herself out of using Craft to induce an aneurysm right then and there. They were doing it by the book, dammit.
"This is...happy news," Hobart said flatly. "Though very much a shock. Perhaps we should adjourn for the day and--"
"No, I don't think so, dear uncle." Karla cut in, voice sweet as oleander honey. "We have important things to do. We can set our familial reunion aside for more pressing matters. One shouldn't let personal feelings get in the way of the Territory's best interests, after all."
"Quite right," Hobart grit out. "So, then, I take it you're here to attempt to take Glacia away from the rightful Queen, Lady Ludmilla?"
"I don't intend to take anything away from the rightful Queen. But, yes, I am here to assert my claim."
"Ahh!" Hobart was grinning now. "What claim is that? Lady Draca, in your capacity as neutral observer, would you mind telling us all whether there is any requirement in Blood law that the Queenship be passed from mother to daughter, even if the daughter is a Queen herself." He clearly thought himself very clever to have thought of this defense.
"There iss no ssuch law," Draca agreed, inclining her head. "Where there iss presscendenssce--"
"But no law," Hobart interrupted, nodding. "So you want to bring discord and strife to our fair Territory for what, Karla dear? You have no claim. Now, perhaps when Ludmilla is ready to step down, the Ruling Council might consider you as a replacement, based on your strength and bloodline, so long as you comport yourself as a proper witch in the meantime." His lip curled as he looked over her Court. "And stop consorting with...rabble."
"No." Karla dropped her facade of politeness. "I will not do any such thing. Your idea of what constitutes a 'proper witch' is disgusting. I won't let myself be mutilated or my Craft broken in order to bow to your whims. I won't pretend to be less than I am in order to make a male feel superior. And I'll be damned to the bowels of Hell before I give up any of my people, including the landens." Her voice was made of razorblades and broken glass. "And this is my claim. Not my bloodline, not my strength, not even my caste. I am here to cleanse Glacia of the filth you spew, dearest uncle mine. I'm here for the landens and the broken witches, the males who are Ringed against their will and the females who chain them out of fear. I am here to defy everything that you and the Ruling Council stand for and to bring us back to the Old Ways. My claim is predicated on my willingness to end you."
"How dare you come into my audience chamber and threaten me!" Hobart yelled.
"Your audience chamber?!" Karla snapped back. "So you admit Ludmilla is nothing more than a mouthpiece for your sick ideas!"
"I could have you all killed right here and now!"
"Technically, you cannot," Draca said, her calm voice in direct opposition to Karla and Hobart's yelling. She gave Karla a look and Karla hunched over a bit. Right. Cool. She was supposed to be cool. Draca, please stop looking at her like that. "Lady Karla has announssced that she iss petitioning to become Territory Queen. Until that iss ressolved, Blood Law sstatess that any interferenssce iss illegal and iss punisshable by exile."
And thus, the real reason Karla had requested a representative of the Keep be present. Not to prove her identity, but to have a witness there that even Hobart couldn't silence. Whatever happened here today, Draca would see and it was a matter of public record. And should he be stupid enough to harm her, every other Territory in Kaeleer would have just cause to take up arms against Glacia and crush them into the mud.
Watching Hobart come to that same conclusion almost made up for the posters this morning.
"I, err, misspoke," he said. "Heightened emotions as I'm sure you understand. It's still hard to believe that this isn't some imposter trying to take my niece's place."
"Of course, did you wish to have Ludmilla's Court face mine on the killing field, that isone way to decide who is Queen," Karla suggested. She was helpful that way.
Sweating now, Hobart looked around the chamber and then darted his eyes back to Draca. "Are Queens allowed to take part in such an endeavour?" he asked, trying to figure the odds of success or failure.
"It iss unussual," Draca said gravely. "But not unheard of. It dependss on the Queen."
"I volunteer," Karla said, quite deliberately. And deciding the time was right, she dropped a bit of Craft she'd been holding up since noon.
"That's unnecessary," Hobart said stiffly. "Such barbarism is not required here. Not when we have peaceful means of settling a dispute. I call a convacade of the Province Queens," he announced, ignoring that was technically something only the Territory Queen could do. Since it suited Karla's purpose, she let that stand. "Of course, it may take some time for the more northern Province Queens to arrive and they'll surely want to rest after their trip. Perhaps tomorrow morning would--"
"Hobie!" The woman who came scurrying into the audience chamber was at least a decade older than Karla, though it was hard to tell under the curls, the elaborate makeup, and the yards of fabric, lace, and jewelry. "Hobie, the oddest thing just happened! I was in the garden when all of a sudden--"
She stopped short, seeing Karla and the rest of her Court. "Why, is that little Karla?" she asked, gasping in surprise. "Look at you, all grown up! I almost didn't recognize you--" Hobart smiled "--with a decent haircut and wearing a gown!" Hobart slumped again, finally giving up the ruse. "Oh, and isn't that a pretty gown!" she said, clasping her hands together. "I mean, a trifle plain and silver doesn't really suit your complexion, but at least it fits. You look so nice!"
Karla was trying to keep her jaw off of the ground. Ludmilla had always been kind--dim, but kind--but Karla hadn't expected her to come in and welcome the Queen making a bid for her position. "I--I--thank you, Raven, my Court Healer, gave it to me..."
That got her a happy squeal. "You have a Court?! How exciting! Is that why you're here? To let us know that you're alive and well and ruling somewhere else? Karla, I'm so happy for you!" And while Karla stood there and blinked, Ludmilla reached forward to envelop her in a cheerful hug. "Congratulations! I'd wept for ages when I heard you'd died."
That hug was short-lived, however. Karla hugged her back, then plucked her hands from around her neck and gently moved her aside. "You didn't tell her?" she snarled at Hobart, hands balling into fists. "You've been keeping this--all of this--from her?!"
Ludmilla turned confused eyes back to Hobart. "You've known she was alive, Hobie? And you didn't say?"
"I didn't want to hurt you with this news, my dear," he told Ludmilla. "How could I burden you with the news that my beloved niece was indeed alive, but had only come back to try and turn Glacia against you? And, I admit, I was hoping that the rumors were wrong, that it was someone simply pretending to be Karla, but alas, I was wrong. I even had the Keep bring the registry to confirm it. I'm so sorry, my girl."
Now Ludmilla was transferring that look of betrayed confusion back to Karla, and Karla winced. She been prepared to find an adversary to fight against, not a confused girl who'd been so happy to see her alive again. "Really, Karla?" she asked, lip trembling. "You came back for that?"
"Oh yes," Hobart supplied. "She's been marching for months, inciting the entire north of Glacia against you. You remember getting the news that Ladon, Tarren, and Ferrick had died? I have it on good authority that they were ambushed by a group of landens that Karla had been agitating and were murdered. Then they traveled for days, carrying those poor lads' Jewels in boxes, bragging about the kill, rather than returning them to their families to mourn."
"That's a lie!" Karla cried out. "That wasn't what happened at all!"
"So you didn't kill them?" Hobart asked, smug and oily.
"They ambushed us!"
"Well, we'll sadly never know for sure, will we?" Hobart asked. "They're dead now, Jewels shattered. I would be inclined to take your word for it, but it's hard to know what's true, now that it's revealed that you faked your own death so you could find a way to take Glacia by force."
"How dare you!" Karla knew she needed to keep her temper, especially with the way her Court was not-so-silently fuming behind her, but it was getting difficult.
"Are some of the murderers here with you now?" he asked. "The bird-man with claws, perhaps, or the disturbing blue giant? Did you fuck them to say thank you or was that just a landen-recruitment method?"
The audience chamber when cold. In less than seconds, the temperature had plummeted to below freezing. Courtiers shivered and wine in glasses grew a skim of ice. In the center, where Karla's Court stood, ice was several inches thick. A nearby porcelain statuette shattered and icicles formed stalactites on the ceiling. That was enough to make Karla get a grip on her own temper, though, especially as little Alba growled like a feral wolf. *Enough!* Her mental voice whipped through their minds. *Leash your tempers. That is an order. We will not rise to his bait.*
Slowly, the cold receded as her people fought to control themselves and pass her command onto those who would not have been able to hear it.
"You are a sick and twisted little man," Karla said. "You disgust me and so do your insinuations. Call the vote, I am tired of looking at you."
"I'd love to, but we have to wait for the other Province Queens to arrive. The southern Queens should be here within a few hours, but it will take much longer for the northern ones. After all, they have so much further to travel. Unless you'd prefer to take the vote early...?"
"Oh, that reminds me," Ludmilla said suddenly. "That's why I came in! The northern Province Queens are here! They just appeared in the gardens while I was outside with my ladies. Did you invite them?"
Karla gave Hobart a brittle smile. "No, I did. Now what was that about taking the vote early, you bastard gutter son of a whore?"
[Oh god, who let me start typing? This is ridiculously long. NFB, NFI, OOC is love but I won't blame anyone for going tl;dr and skipping.]