>>5958278>One week later…You were ready to fulfill your role as Countess of Rusalka. According to Gerald, several petitioners from all over would be coming to the castle to ask for your aid on various matters. With only a week to be brought up to speed on the situations surrounding your land, you were feeling less than confident about how you might perform. Fortunately, you had Corrine and Yara by your side to offer their invaluable opinions. The two of them flanked you in the castle’s audience chamber, where the Count would once meet with his subjects. The room had seen better days. A ray of sunshine peaked through a large hole in the ceiling, and large amounts of rubble had been moved to the sides of the room so as not to serve as a tripping hazard. Even the Count’s throne, which had by all accounts seemed like a comfortable and daunting seat of power, had been destroyed during the Titanus’ attack. Instead, you now sat on a rickety stool, placed at the top of the chamber’s steps.
>“I understand that the old throne was destroyed, but was there really not a more comfortable chair for me to sit on? Wedge couldn’t possibly have broken EVERY chair we had, right?!” You grumble, trying to adjust yourself comfortably. Rather than the armor you’d grown accustomed to wearing, you now had on a silk dress handpicked for you by Corrine. She claimed it would help you look the part of ruler, but you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious in it.“I know. Crazy, right?” Corrine says, nonchalantly.
“Throne or not, you’re still these people’s ruler.” Yara says. “Sit straight and quit fidgeting so much, or they’ll never take you seriously.”
>“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one having to sit on this damn thing.” You restrain the urge to grab the stool and smash it on the ground, instead opting to futilely fidget in it for the eighth time that afternoon.“We all have our burdens, Blair.” Yara sighs. “It won’t do good if your subjects hear you complaining about your choice of furniture when many of them are fresh from forced labor at the mines. So, shut up, and grin and bear it.”
“What’s gotten into you?” Corrine asks Yara. “You’re a lot more angsty than usual.”
“Sorry.” Yara says, not sounding sorry at all. “I’ve had a short temper ever since I stopped smoking.”
>“Well, maybe you should start again.” You grumble, adjusting your ass for the ninth time now.“I can’t. It’s not good for the baby.” Yara says.
“Tristan?” Corrine asks. “Who cares? He’s all the way in the back of the castle. He won’t mind.”
“No. Blair’s baby. Supposedly it is unwise to smoke around a pregnant woman.”
“Oh.” Corrine says, nodding her head affirmatively. “Yep. That make sense.”
>“Ahh, I see. You’re right. That does make sense.” 