>>6087663The Kingdom of Lindan is well known for the privileges given to its nobles and even its commoners when it comes to governance. A shining example is when a Magnum Concilium, Great Council, is called to discuss matters of great importance with people from all walks of life attending and given equal opportunity to speak to the king. But given how messy this whole situation is, only the Curia Regis, Royal Court, has been called into session. It comprises a much smaller group of year-round members, all very high nobility or, in one case, of the eight members, an exceptionally wealthy merchant. Even Duke Edwin de Cendre is in attendance; a rider must’ve been sent to him as soon as the attacks started. Other than the king and his advisors, two different people of importance are in the room you enter, your brother Arthur de Lindan and the Lord Inquisitor, a bald and very fat man with an uncomfortably large smile as he looks in your direction.
Everyone looks in your direction as you enter the highly formal and secretive meeting with a tremble. Not because you’re nervous, mind you, but because you’re ill. You feel somewhat underdressed here, especially so with how “fashionable” some of the nobles here are. Your mother and Red trail a few feet behind you; the latter gives a half-wave to her husband. Your father’s face does not look all that happy to see you, “Lorina…” He trails off.
You give the best bow you can manage. A curtsy is too hard right now, “Esteemed councilors, may I please have a moment of your time? I believe I possess information that will be vital to the discussion here.”
A wave of confusion ripples through the advisors, soft whispering, and raised eyebrows. You understand the last thing you should be doing is attending a high-society gathering, and you haven’t even had time to brush your hair. Yet, here you are, “Lorina, this is not the time for-”
Surprisingly, the Lord Inquisitor cuts your father off with a wave of his sausage-like hand; with such little regard for your father’s authority, you glare, “Oh, don’t look so dour, Lewis, let the poor lass speak. Is she not the woman of the hour? I’m sure whatever she has to say will have our interest piqued,” Wait, is his voice familiar? You quickly disregard that thought as the man grins more at your staring, and you look away.
“Fine, Lord Inquisitor, just this once. Lorina, you have one minute to state your piece before you’re dismissed so you can stop making a mockery of court customs. Speak,” Your father commands.
