>>5967707You frown a little. The thought of benefitting the ancestral enemies of our homeland isn’t exactly ideal, but you suppose if it can help neutralize their ambitions or reorient them AWAY from the Sylvan Realms… Well, you can work with that. But as for an expedition… Wouldn’t that carry you away from Old Maple Hill and from Hawksong, yet again? You can’t just abandon your responsibilities here again so soon, even for this ‘Unseelie Star’ project… Can you?
“Speaking of the Sylvan Realms,” you say, as a thought occurs to you, “have we heard back from the carriage-drivers? We were forced to… Well, to leave them behind. I’m a little worried about them.”
The Queen and her Dragon King exchange a glance, the former visibly more concerned than the latter.
“We haven’t heard from them either,” the Queen admits.
“Not YET,” she hurried amends. “I’m certain we will.”
“They were exxxpendable asssetss,” The Thief says, drawing a sharp glare from the Queen.
“But they will be treated well, yesss?” Prince Long Wang asks—more to save The Thief from his wife’s wrath than out of any actual concern, you would wager. “To kill or torture prissonerss iss not the way of your people, isss it?”
“Of course not!” you balk.
“Then all isss well,” the Prince Consort says, resting a hand on his wife’s arm appeasingly, as she sighs in exasperation. “They are ssafe and ssound is what I am led to believe isss a quite beautiful and hossspitable land.”
“When this whole diplomatic, ah, INCIDENT is sorted out, we’ll retrieve them,” the Queen pledges. “Their families must be worried sick…”
You frown a little at that, feeling a little guilty, and a little unnerved by Prince Long Wang’s lackadaisical response.
“And what about your other agents?” you probe.
“Other agents?” Queen Ekaterine asks, with a dangerous edge that makes her draconic paramour cringe.
“Infiltratorsss were dissspatched, only to sseek out my sson, and to protect Hawkssong and Bloodrise interesstsss,” he explains. “The intention was to exxtract them asss well, in due coursse.”
“And now?” you ask.
He is quiet for a moment, face still but eyes locked upon you with some inscrutable mix of emotions. Eventually, he seems to settle on something that—in his reptilian naivety—he seems to believe will bring you comfort.
“They are creaturess born and bred for a purpossse,” he explains. “They have no familiess to misss them.”
“…Right.”
