The Summer Sky Hotel, Sidra, Thursday (Fandom Time)
The was the most luxurious hotel in Sidra, where traveling aristos and the wealthiest of merchants stayed. Hothar, the Summer-sky Jeweled didn't owner did not take kindly to Karla showing up with her Court (including landens, shudder) and demanding the top three floors for her Court's exclusive use. Later, he would tell everyone he knew that he had been on the verge of kicking them all out for even approaching him and that he'd insisted the landens not sleep in any of the beds ("I told her they could sleep on the floor and only if she provided them with sheets and blankets!"). In reality, his reservations about letting them stay and his supercilious demeanor had vanished when Karla's Steward pulled out a stack of goldnotes that were easily twice what the rent of all three floors would have cost in the first place.
***
There were more than enough bathrooms for everyone, which was why Karla didn't think twice before drawing herself a very hot bath and planning to stay there for over an hour. If she didn't get her muscles to relax, she'd end up with a rampaging headache, one she could ill afford tonight if her suspicions were correct.
She'd won. She was technically the rightful Queen of Glacia. Tomorrow, she should be returning to the estate, installing her own Court, and beginning to rule. She put odds of that happening at roughly the same odds as she did Glacia successfully growing pineapples in the north. Everything that had happened today was a show. Politics. Being the lawful Queen meant nothing if no one else played by the rules.
Ludmilla, if left to her own devices, just might. Hobart would never let her, though.
The vote had gone off much like she'd expected. Hobart had declared her Court invalid with the additions of 'foreigners, landens, and foreign landens,' but Draca had pointed out that Karla had the appropriate number of Blood males sworn to her First Circle. Then had come the vote itself.
"Six and six," Ludmilla said, looking around the gathered Province Queens. "I guess it's a tie. Umm...who wins in the case of a tie?"
"There sshould not be a tie," Draca said, frowning. "None of the Kaeleeran Territoriess have an even number of Provincssess." Most had thirteen, after the number of males it took to make a First Circle. "You musst be misssing a vote. No one can win without a majority."
"I am?" Ludmilla frowned. "Oh. Oh! There are thirteen, yes. Sidra Province, too. But that's me, right? And I vote for me! So that's seven votes in my favor! I win! I win!" She began bouncing up and down, clapping her hands with joy.
She looked so happy, Karla almost--almost!--felt bad for bursting her bubble. "You are incorrect," she said. "You are the Queen of the city of Sidra and of Glacia as a whole, but you are not the Sidra Province Queen."
"I'm not?" Ludmilla looked confused again and on the brink of tears. "Well, who is?"
"The last Sidra Province Queen on record is Lady Raydrinn," Karla replied. "So hers is the deciding vote."
"Lady Radrinn?!" Hobart demanded, panicked now as he finally grasped Karla's own plan. "But she retired years ago! She must have!"
The door to the small council room slammed open and in walked a tiny, practically ancient woman, escorted by thirteen equally old men. "I didn't," she said, voice sharp. It was the kind of voice that regressed everyone back to childhood, getting in trouble for stealing cookies, or not minding their manners closely enough. Even at ninety, Raydrinn looked like she would enjoy nothing more than to grab someone by their ear and yank. "I just went home when I saw all this horseshit happening." She curled her lip at Hobart and Ludmilla. "Girl, you wear too much makeup," she said. "You look like a clown, not a Queen."
Nor did Karla escape her judging glare. "And you, girl, stop looking so smug. It's not an attractive expression on you. That was your mother's besetting sin, too. All that pride. Now look where it got her." The only person she did greet politely was Draca, with a cordial nod, before turning towards the sideboard. "No wine? No refreshments? I shouldn't vote for either of you."
Hobart hastily sent a servant out for tea and snacks. Raydrinn shouted, "I said wine!" after the boy's scurrying back.
Draca ascertained that Raydrinn still qualified to be the Province Queen ("The Council's gotten Sidra's taxes and tithes every Quarter, ain't they? Do you need to see my Court's cocks to make sure they're still wearing my Rings?") and then asked Raydrinn to cast her vote. Raydrinn refused to do any such thing until she'd drunk her wine and eat her slice of cake, smacking her nearly toothless mouth in satisfaction. "All right, let's get this over with. I want to go home before my bowels remember this cake was too rich for them," she declared. "Hobart, you're a greedy, power-hungry bastard and you always have been. I told your father when you were ten that he should have drowned you in a sack like a litter of unwanted kittens. Of course, I'd also told him not to wet his cock in that munter that was your mother. The stupid male never listened. And you, girl." She pointed to Ludmilla. "You had some promise when you were younger, but you've been fed steaming pile of dung for almost twenty years now and you still haven't realized it's shit, not a gourmet meal. And worse, these other flighty twits are just like you."
Onto Karla. "You. I think you're a hot-headed idiot that has a couple of victories under her belt and that makes her think that she's capable of being a Queen. You're vainglorious, stubborn to the point of being stupif, and too young. I wouldn't trust you to rule my farts, never mind a Territory full of people." She sighed and shook her head, longing for the days when they had a decent pool of Queens to choose from. "But you're the only one standing up to this nonsense and even if I don't like you, I can respect that. So, yes, you have my vote. Try not to disappoint me too much with what you do with it."
And then she'd turned and stomped out, leaving Karla a little shell-shocked, even with Draca reciting, "With sseven votess to ssix, Lady Karla is the new Territory Queen of Glasscia."
A knock on the bathroom door and Alba's voice informing her that dinner was being served jolted Karla out of her reverie. The now-cold bath had relaxed her enough that she was indeed hungry, and so she got out, toweled off, and slipped on loose pajamas before going to join her Court for dinner. They had much to discuss.
***
Later that night, long after the moon had risen and all the lights in the hotel had been extinguished, a man stood in the shadows. He had been waiting there patiently, hidden by darkness and a sight shield, for hours. Cold, he decided it was time to warm up a bit. With all the Craft at his command, he channeled his power into one giant ball of witchfire and used it to set the hotel ablaze.
[NFB, for the usual suspects, OOC welcome, I dun wanna think about tags right now.]
***
There were more than enough bathrooms for everyone, which was why Karla didn't think twice before drawing herself a very hot bath and planning to stay there for over an hour. If she didn't get her muscles to relax, she'd end up with a rampaging headache, one she could ill afford tonight if her suspicions were correct.
She'd won. She was technically the rightful Queen of Glacia. Tomorrow, she should be returning to the estate, installing her own Court, and beginning to rule. She put odds of that happening at roughly the same odds as she did Glacia successfully growing pineapples in the north. Everything that had happened today was a show. Politics. Being the lawful Queen meant nothing if no one else played by the rules.
Ludmilla, if left to her own devices, just might. Hobart would never let her, though.
The vote had gone off much like she'd expected. Hobart had declared her Court invalid with the additions of 'foreigners, landens, and foreign landens,' but Draca had pointed out that Karla had the appropriate number of Blood males sworn to her First Circle. Then had come the vote itself.
"Six and six," Ludmilla said, looking around the gathered Province Queens. "I guess it's a tie. Umm...who wins in the case of a tie?"
"There sshould not be a tie," Draca said, frowning. "None of the Kaeleeran Territoriess have an even number of Provincssess." Most had thirteen, after the number of males it took to make a First Circle. "You musst be misssing a vote. No one can win without a majority."
"I am?" Ludmilla frowned. "Oh. Oh! There are thirteen, yes. Sidra Province, too. But that's me, right? And I vote for me! So that's seven votes in my favor! I win! I win!" She began bouncing up and down, clapping her hands with joy.
She looked so happy, Karla almost--almost!--felt bad for bursting her bubble. "You are incorrect," she said. "You are the Queen of the city of Sidra and of Glacia as a whole, but you are not the Sidra Province Queen."
"I'm not?" Ludmilla looked confused again and on the brink of tears. "Well, who is?"
"The last Sidra Province Queen on record is Lady Raydrinn," Karla replied. "So hers is the deciding vote."
"Lady Radrinn?!" Hobart demanded, panicked now as he finally grasped Karla's own plan. "But she retired years ago! She must have!"
The door to the small council room slammed open and in walked a tiny, practically ancient woman, escorted by thirteen equally old men. "I didn't," she said, voice sharp. It was the kind of voice that regressed everyone back to childhood, getting in trouble for stealing cookies, or not minding their manners closely enough. Even at ninety, Raydrinn looked like she would enjoy nothing more than to grab someone by their ear and yank. "I just went home when I saw all this horseshit happening." She curled her lip at Hobart and Ludmilla. "Girl, you wear too much makeup," she said. "You look like a clown, not a Queen."
Nor did Karla escape her judging glare. "And you, girl, stop looking so smug. It's not an attractive expression on you. That was your mother's besetting sin, too. All that pride. Now look where it got her." The only person she did greet politely was Draca, with a cordial nod, before turning towards the sideboard. "No wine? No refreshments? I shouldn't vote for either of you."
Hobart hastily sent a servant out for tea and snacks. Raydrinn shouted, "I said wine!" after the boy's scurrying back.
Draca ascertained that Raydrinn still qualified to be the Province Queen ("The Council's gotten Sidra's taxes and tithes every Quarter, ain't they? Do you need to see my Court's cocks to make sure they're still wearing my Rings?") and then asked Raydrinn to cast her vote. Raydrinn refused to do any such thing until she'd drunk her wine and eat her slice of cake, smacking her nearly toothless mouth in satisfaction. "All right, let's get this over with. I want to go home before my bowels remember this cake was too rich for them," she declared. "Hobart, you're a greedy, power-hungry bastard and you always have been. I told your father when you were ten that he should have drowned you in a sack like a litter of unwanted kittens. Of course, I'd also told him not to wet his cock in that munter that was your mother. The stupid male never listened. And you, girl." She pointed to Ludmilla. "You had some promise when you were younger, but you've been fed steaming pile of dung for almost twenty years now and you still haven't realized it's shit, not a gourmet meal. And worse, these other flighty twits are just like you."
Onto Karla. "You. I think you're a hot-headed idiot that has a couple of victories under her belt and that makes her think that she's capable of being a Queen. You're vainglorious, stubborn to the point of being stupif, and too young. I wouldn't trust you to rule my farts, never mind a Territory full of people." She sighed and shook her head, longing for the days when they had a decent pool of Queens to choose from. "But you're the only one standing up to this nonsense and even if I don't like you, I can respect that. So, yes, you have my vote. Try not to disappoint me too much with what you do with it."
And then she'd turned and stomped out, leaving Karla a little shell-shocked, even with Draca reciting, "With sseven votess to ssix, Lady Karla is the new Territory Queen of Glasscia."
A knock on the bathroom door and Alba's voice informing her that dinner was being served jolted Karla out of her reverie. The now-cold bath had relaxed her enough that she was indeed hungry, and so she got out, toweled off, and slipped on loose pajamas before going to join her Court for dinner. They had much to discuss.
***
Later that night, long after the moon had risen and all the lights in the hotel had been extinguished, a man stood in the shadows. He had been waiting there patiently, hidden by darkness and a sight shield, for hours. Cold, he decided it was time to warm up a bit. With all the Craft at his command, he channeled his power into one giant ball of witchfire and used it to set the hotel ablaze.
[NFB, for the usual suspects, OOC welcome, I dun wanna think about tags right now.]