"D'accord, Monsieur," Josephine announced once they'd retired to one of the Nox's private meeting rooms, her dark eyes narrowing viciously at the Sea King. "Quel est l'importance des revendications du prince?"
French
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"D'accord, Monsieur," Josephine announced once they'd retired to one of the Nox's private meeting rooms, her dark eyes narrowing viciously at the Sea King. "Quel est l'importance des revendications du prince?"
French
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"Claims taken out of context. What more can I say?" he responds in his Caribbean-acquired French. Rather than assume a stance of apology - or anything else particularly telling - he simply stands and endures her gaze for a moment. "I had hoped to surprise you by doing all of the legwork to make the arrangements. You are our Priscus."
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"Consider me surprised," Josephine replied in biting french. She held the glare a moment longer, clearing consider horrible concoctions of punishment, but at last relented.
"I shall give you one chance to explain yourself more thoroughly before I declare what your surprise has won you," she warned, the slender columns of chill, dead flesh within her sleeves crossing in front of her.
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To her last, he gives a slight bow of his head. "As you wish. I have been accustomed to meetings within clans from my... travels. At the last Court, I questioned the Whip as to why we did not have a meeting planned for ourselves." He lets out a small breath like a sigh of disappointment.
"I did not want to bother you, at the time, with something so trivial. So I took my questions to the Whip. She suggested I organize the meeting personally." It isn't spoken as an accusation, though there is a tone of confusion in the otherwise bold Lord's voice. "I did not realize this would cause offense... I had intentions to invite you all to discuss matters in the comfort and style of my own yacht." Gerald produces Josephine's invitation from his coat pocket and holds it out.
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"You did not realize that surprising the head of your family with a meeting that they are supposed to lead would be rude?" she demanded in scathing Parisian imitation.
"You did not realize how offensive or undermining it would be to withhold this information from me? It seems you also did not realize that, if you had spoken with me, I would have allowed you to organize the meeting with as much pomp and circumstance as you desired. For, if you had spoken with me, then yes, it would have been a relief from the burden of duty. However, when you connive behind my back like some would be usurper then I cannot allow you to escape without some reminder of my authority. Thus, I am revoking your feeding rights until further notice. You shall be consigned to feeding in the barrens only. I shall alert the Reeve to this matter, so do not attempt to poach or I have no doubts that he shall swing that katana he's so proud of at you."
She moved for the door, and then paused with one hand upon the handle.
"If you had told me that you desired the position of Whip then I would have helped you attain such. Perhaps I still will help you attain such, after your punishment. For now, however, you have forced my hand, so enjoy the fruits of your labor."
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Every scathing word the Priscus drops - every twisting of the Sea King's intentions - is another straw added to his back. The pronouncement of the sentencing is the one that breaks it. Pretense lapses for the smallest of moments, revealing something ugly underneath. His words come out in a ragged whisper.
"This is what I get for going out on a limb? I offered an invitation to my home! Now I'm to subsist on the fucking refuse!? He isn't able to contain his anger from rising to an outburst while maintaining eye contact. He glances away, fists clenching and unclenching in a few hostile waves. He knows she'll leave. He also knows he just doesn't care. I know that the alliance between their houses is longstanding, but she might as well be flying Invictus colors. Punishment for perceived insult.
And then reason - or something acting like reason - steps in again. She had given him a potential respite, after all. He isn't about to waste it. Turning to look in her direction, he offers a simple, humble farewell. "Au revoir, Priscus Sterling."
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For some moments, Josephine had considered flying from the room. She doubted she could best what was once a sailor in a brutal, close quarters fight. No matter that he would be punished for such a breach of Elysium, no, torpor was still torpor, and Final Death the final return to dust...Alas, it seemed that the Sea King did not yet intend to assault her. A small thanks to the Almighty was offered, and then Josephine opened the door and held it for him so that he could enter the Elysian Fields proper once more.
She waited for four seconds after he had left, and then likewise exited the meeting room...
Jojo returning to main thread...
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