The Camp of the Legal Queen, Glacia, Saturday Fandom Time
"You're joking."
Karla looked at Morton, who was doing his damnedest not to grin as he shook his head. "Not at all. Julian is out there with them now, escorting them through the camp."
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Karla repeated the information that he'd just told her. "So...a group of Blood from Sidra have traveled all this way to come beg an audience with me?"
"That's what they said," Morton agreed. "They made sure to refer to you as the true and rightful Queen, too. Julian thinks they want something from you."
"Of course they do," Karla growled. "Still, it's not like I can ignore a positive overture from Sidra. Especially since they had to tromp through snow and half the Bloody Territory to deliver it." She turned away from the medicines she was brewing, signaling for another journeymaid to come take over for her. "How long until they arrive?"
"You probably have about fifteen minutes," Morton assured her. "Julian's taking them the long way through camp. Deliberately."
"Good on him," Karla approved. "Okay, make sure we have warm food and mulled wine waiting in the front of my tent. Then round up the usual suspects and make sure they're medium fancy and in my tent in ten."
"Your will is my life, Lady," Morton said with an extravagant bow. Karla pelted him with a snowball from behind and ran off to her tent, laughing.
***
Ten minutes later, several members of her First Circle were assembled and waiting for their guests. Karla, ever the diplomat, had ordered several of the posters they'd taken from Sidra to be hung about the walls. She had a large and imposing chair to sit it, but had not yet called in for additional chairs. The attending Blood would stand before her until she had ascertained their motives for visiting, both stated and not.
She'd changed from her working clothes into a dress, warm and finely crafted, but with very little ornamentation. Her hair was pulled back to frame her face, but again, the style was attractive, but simple. There were more papers than gilding in her tent, and while everything was of high-quality, it all had the air of use to it. There was nothing here that was only useful for show. The food was heart, warm, and filling, but practical, and she ate no differently than anyone else in the camp. She was drawing a stark contrast between herself and the ostentatious Court of her uncle's.
Time to see whether they could really handle the Queen she was going to be, rather than the whatever kind of Queen they'd traveled here expecting.
"Game on," she murmured, just loud enough to be heard by Morton and Warren, who were flanking her chair, and Raven who was mirroring Mallory's position just off to the side. "Let's see what these folks are after, shall we?"
[For thems in Glacia with her!]
Karla looked at Morton, who was doing his damnedest not to grin as he shook his head. "Not at all. Julian is out there with them now, escorting them through the camp."
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Karla repeated the information that he'd just told her. "So...a group of Blood from Sidra have traveled all this way to come beg an audience with me?"
"That's what they said," Morton agreed. "They made sure to refer to you as the true and rightful Queen, too. Julian thinks they want something from you."
"Of course they do," Karla growled. "Still, it's not like I can ignore a positive overture from Sidra. Especially since they had to tromp through snow and half the Bloody Territory to deliver it." She turned away from the medicines she was brewing, signaling for another journeymaid to come take over for her. "How long until they arrive?"
"You probably have about fifteen minutes," Morton assured her. "Julian's taking them the long way through camp. Deliberately."
"Good on him," Karla approved. "Okay, make sure we have warm food and mulled wine waiting in the front of my tent. Then round up the usual suspects and make sure they're medium fancy and in my tent in ten."
"Your will is my life, Lady," Morton said with an extravagant bow. Karla pelted him with a snowball from behind and ran off to her tent, laughing.
***
Ten minutes later, several members of her First Circle were assembled and waiting for their guests. Karla, ever the diplomat, had ordered several of the posters they'd taken from Sidra to be hung about the walls. She had a large and imposing chair to sit it, but had not yet called in for additional chairs. The attending Blood would stand before her until she had ascertained their motives for visiting, both stated and not.
She'd changed from her working clothes into a dress, warm and finely crafted, but with very little ornamentation. Her hair was pulled back to frame her face, but again, the style was attractive, but simple. There were more papers than gilding in her tent, and while everything was of high-quality, it all had the air of use to it. There was nothing here that was only useful for show. The food was heart, warm, and filling, but practical, and she ate no differently than anyone else in the camp. She was drawing a stark contrast between herself and the ostentatious Court of her uncle's.
Time to see whether they could really handle the Queen she was going to be, rather than the whatever kind of Queen they'd traveled here expecting.
"Game on," she murmured, just loud enough to be heard by Morton and Warren, who were flanking her chair, and Raven who was mirroring Mallory's position just off to the side. "Let's see what these folks are after, shall we?"
[For thems in Glacia with her!]