>>5688179“Princessss Ekaterine of Hawkssong, Daughter of Paladin King Archosss” you announce, “and The Chaplain’ss Daughter, Noviccce of the Order of Fleshweaversss, whom you all know. These two BOTH shall be Queensss of Bloodrise—one Reptilian, one mammalian.”
You clear your throat, and gesture to Glowie expansively.
“And the Greatworm Queen—who you alssso all know well the value and majesssty of, and who is in truth the very CREATION of the Mother of Dragonsss herself!—she, too, shall be my Queen… And yoursss…”
You regard the retinue, looking for signs of defection or defiance, as you finally state it plainly:
“…Jussst asss her ssonsss are my ssonsss… Her wyrmlingsss Wyrm PRINCESSS of The Bloodrise, carrying my blood in their veinsss.”
You can see the shock (and poorly-hidden disgust, in most cases) upon the faces of those you have here assembled… But none speak against you. Yours in the <Voice of the Metatron>. Yours is the most <Fearsome Presence> in Bloodrise. Your will is law here. Your will is DESTINY. None here dare defy you, or question you.
“…Wang?”
…Well, save one or two.
You look to Ekaterine, who covers her mouth again, and corrects herself: “I mean, Theral. King Theral…”
She looks to Glowie again, and then back to you, brow creased.
“What… What is this…?”
“Thisss iss Glowie,” you explain, lowering your voice from your regal volume and softening it somewhat from its authoritative octave. “She isss… Alsso a wife.”
“THIS,” Ekaterine asks, voice sharp and almost panicked before she calms it, “this, ah, this woman is your WIFE?”
“Well,” you pause. “’Wife’ isss not really a term appropriate to… Reptilains do not usse it, exxxactly, let alone… That isss…”
“We are in love,” Glowie hums happily, sootching her throax closer to you and leaning gently against you. “And he gave me hizz preziouzz zeed~”
Ekaterine’s face has, you suspect, never BEEN more crimson. You cannot quite make out if the reason is humiliation or rage.
“It’s complicated,” you hasten to add. “She wasn’t quite… Like this… And there were other considers beyond—"
“It izz a pleazzure to meet you, zzizzter.”
Ekaterine and you both turn to Glowie, and regard her outstretched hand-equivalent. Ekaterine, in spite of all her outrage, terror, and clear revulsion at the bug-woman, is simply too polite to refuse such a diplomatic overture; she accepts, though she pulls her hand back rather quickly. She thereafter falls silent which you take for—or HOPE is—a good sign.
