>>6116779“I’m sure you kept busy in my absence,” she adds, shifting her blue gaze towards the notebooks open before the Asterite’s hands. With a sigh from the blonde woman, the scribbled notes and ink on the page squiggles and shifts, turning into straight lines and then dots, concealing any meaning
“Nothing that may concern you. Or your ilk.”
“Now you wound me,” she chuckles, leaning against the chair. She’s full in her element now, portraying her character to the best of her abilities. She even pushes her sizeable rack forward, displaying her plunging cleavage, so different from the Asterite’s flat chest, just to annoy her. It’s what someone in complete control would do. Argia likes to think that she has learned from the best — and her Patron is the best among the best… even if she is a bitch.
“I’d rather not to,” Sandora replies, crossing her fingers over the table, displaying her the back of her scarred hands.
“Alright, sorry, sorry. I’ll write my apology letter to the Academia soon enough. Now, can we please go on? I may have an appointment with a cute wardrobe attendant as soon as we are finished here.”
The Asterite sneers and mutters something that suspiciously sounds like ‘dykes’.
“I won’t keep you more than necessary. The company is hardly a pleasure anyway.” The blonde taps her tanned and scarred fingers on the notebook — the ink turns into a face, precisely detailed, like a master engraver’s work. “This is your mark this time.”
“Looks Maduan,” Argia quips, noticing the robes and the symbol of Ansàrra.
“We think she’s a Strander, actually,” the Asterite sighs. “Salicera Fors. A promising new Knight of Ansàrra.”
“Ah, that’s why she has such a pretty smile on that sun-loving face,” Argia adds, pointing to the frowning portrait.
“I’ll let you grade her face’s beauty as much as you’d like. The Throne would just be happy with her head.”
“Oh, and what might have this cutie done to upset the Emperor so much?”
“She’s a zealot. Causing unrest in Madua, calling for a holy war against the heathens on the other side of the sea. Throwing the Frigéian merchants into the Sea, and their friends as well.”
“Ah,” Argia clicks her tongue. “Cute and crazy. But I’m sure the big lady upstairs won’t rock the boat. Lady Sunshine hasn’t done so in six hundred years. Why should she start now?”
“The Throne has no answer to this question. It would prefer to not have to answer it at all.”
“Understood,” Argia grins. “Well, if she’s a Strander… this is going to cost you.”
[cont.]
