Sydokai Palace - Arc, Sergei, Ghanima, Nabonassar [TRANSFER]

[Ghanima]

Log so far

[Ghanima]

Ghanima’s eyes narrowed at something Sergei mentioned— there were details she wasn’t aware of and it had something to do with the mother of one of the Primoris. Did they mean the pale empress of raven hair Esarhaddon? How could that be? From what she understood these Kings were as young as they were powerful and the empress was somehow only a few years old much as Nabonassar was and someone, if not Esarhaddon, had been taught a lesson through physical means.

Briefly, Ghanima gave Sergei a puzzled look over her shoulder. What was this that he knew and she did not? The fist slamming into the floor of the Sydokai palace caused the diminutive woman to startle a bit only to be calmed by Nabonassar speaking to her consort and protector in a manner meant to bring him back down to earth. What an interesting disposition she was caught between.

However, in the end...she was the crowned head of the empire. Not the King and not the Warrior. This absolutist mindset would come back to haunt her once Arcerion began to speak and then heaped a wager and an offer into her lap that resulted in the tired woman not only being stunned but confounded. Never in her three decades of living would she imagine being given the offer to join him upon a dias that ruled worlds and not simply a continent. The room brightened and there he was in all of his frightening glory— and he was approaching her. Ghanima stiffened if only for a moment as her chin was seized and tilted upward. The amount of shattered protocols in that moment would have caused members of the council to become faint and, yet, the Empress Reagent met his eyes with her own even if they did look somewhat on the tired end of things. She’d not fight or stray away from the grip...even if it unnerved the Advisor or her protector and lover. Shock only crossed her regal gaze for a moment.

It was a hell of an offer. She wasted no time answering to it even though she imagined some form of ill fortune may creep her way in the future due to how the offer was answered. Truly, it was a rock and a hard place.

’I will follow you, Arcerion.’ she’d say; blinking slowly after delivering the answer to his request. No talk of consulting the heads of any houses or her council would come about— and those who knew Ghanima well (such as Sergei or Nabonassar) would possibly recognize such a moment from the empress as reckless and impulsive; perhaps a result of her sleep deprivation. Did she truly understand what she was agreeing to and was it fair of the other crowned head to deliver such terms in her state?

It probably didn’t matter. The contract was sealed, so to speak.

[Sergei-Deker]

Sergei listened to the words of Nabonasar and tried to steady his breathing from his planted spot in this realm. As the advisor used his vast intellect he would look up at him appreciatively and nod. There was a silent understanding to Nabonasar that Sergei was the muscle for black sun, and if that made the King the brains, then Ghanima was surely the soul that linked them. His voice was a whisper in comparison to the usual bass of his body. “I thank you advisor, my nature makes me quick to defend, and sometimes slow to think about the larger picture.”

When Arcerion retracted his own trap in the palace, normally Sergei should of been able to banish his armaments, he simply refused that. Allowing his blades to remain manifest in case things should turn sour. And sour they would seem to turn of course as the words his former emperor spoke became more damning. As he approached Ghanima Sergei rose, to his full height, and used his left hand to grip at a blade on his back. In but a moment he would attack the lord here if things turned south, he had no doubt that the advisor would have his back. “She’s not a play thing for you Arcerion. I’ll sooner kneel to Celesin, then let you harm a hair on her head.”

Every word held a beastial rage that was barely contained. Every muscle in Sergei’s massive frame was tensed, and waiting to be unleashed. It was almost like this wasn't the first time the empress consort had been at odds with the emperor over a woman. This time, he wouldn't kneel to save his life. This time his life was forfeit if he so much as dragged this out a second too long. Despite Ghanima’s words, Sergei thought he knew better. Until the Emperor let go of his Empress, he would be ready to intercept any attack.

[Nabonassar]

Nabonassar saw the situation spiralling out of control before his very eyes. Arcerion was there, tilting up his Empress’s chin and uttering that fateful offer. Barely a pair of heartbeats had passed before Ghanima was accepting the offer and Nabonassar breathed a slightly frustrated sigh, lost amidst Sergei’s saber rattling. He stepped forward, “My Empress, might I suggest we speak on this matter before the deal is sealed and graven in stone.” He Would lift his hand and, provided Arcerion did not seem opposed to it, he would lightly relieve the Emperor of his grip on Ghanima’s chin. That, also, might very well put Sergei more at ease. The Champion Prima truly was most like a loyal hound. Bristling at the sight of someone touching his mistress. Someone he knew was the unfriendly type.

Nabonassar was attempting to control the spin in his mind, trying to minimize the backlash that this would cause. Black Sun would become an outpost of Dorian, however, Nabonassar doubted he would truly share the governance of Dorian with Ghanima. She was the ruler of continent. Not a world, or worlds, but a single continent upon a single world. This was no doubt one of the few times she had even been off her tiny backwater. And She truly believed she would be involved in the governance of dozens of worlds, possibly hundreds? This was the poor judgement caused by the fact that she had not slept.

[Arcerion]

Arcerion was more interested in Ghanima, her reaction to everything that had happened or had been said were key to what he did next. This close, and with all of his power at his disposal, there was a frame of maybe 3 seconds max, where he could of just snapped the empress’ neck, called in guards and had the others taken out. Theoretically he could use that to get in Celesin’s good graces, and save his empire from their prying eye’s preemptively. Not a bad plan all things considered. However that was clearly his queen’s influence speaking. With her confirmation that she would follow him, the hand of the advisor was noticed and he allowed it to remove him from such contact. He looked to Sergei and grinned with sharpened teeth. There was indeed a history between them, and it did not need to be retreaded this evening. He retracted his hands to be placed behind him, as he paced, away and about halfway towards his own throne.

“I’ll send some of my cleanup forces to the destroyed sites, mayhaps I can find out more about this malevolent force. With your permission of course.” Was he ignoring them all? Hardly but there were things that needed to be addressed that the sleep deprived women had not given answer too. It was understandable, they had so much more on their minds. Raising a hand dismissively he gestured plainly in the air. “Sergei, I suggest you calm yourself. Your sabre rattling is cute at best. However don’t forget your place.” He crossed his arms behind his back, and continued to stare at the throne.

“Do not let my presence deter you from speaking freely about the pro’s and con’s of my offer. I would normally suggest this meeting be adjourned, but alas the clock is ticking. We can fight them, on a planetary and system wide scale. My entire reign has been in preparation for the day they decide to attack, and our defenses are as good now as they will ever be. If you have any other ideas to bring to my attention, I would of course love to discuss them with you.” His gaze and intention was clearly upon the most level headed and not sleep deprived of the three envoys here.

[Ghanima]

An enormous amount of tension and interesting subtext took place the moment Ghanima expressed an answer to Arcerion. As soon as she spoke the words they were somewhat regretted— but it was the King reaching over to free her chin from the large hands of the malevolent emperor towering above her that caused her to expand her understanding of her empire’s troubles outside of a both pragmatic and desperate desire to survive.

Without even considering the physical heights of the trio around her— impressive in all their own ways— Ghanima had never in her life felt so small. Anger surged within her as she fought to isolate and deconstruct whatever path had lead to her and her people being a pawn between powers from the heavens. Even if Dorian was an ally, she still understood that they had her “Over a barrel” as Matheson used to say. And there was no way to lift oneself out of the position without the mercy of another.

But for the sake of all the Djinn she could at least give such a heavy decision some thought!

”My allied crown, within the confines of honor and dignity, I hope, I will need longer than time allotted for a casual conversation to speak of such advancements and partnerships. I have one my advisor a dishonor and removed he importance of his duties from him— please consider a single night for us to discuss and decide the future path for my humble empire.’ Smooth, thankfully. Strength, poise and dignity— and perhaps alertness seemed to flood into Ghanima. she slipped it on like an old glove. The spike in a low level promise of violence in the throne room between Sergei and Arcerion had put the petite woman’s feet in the fire. She even held a small hand up toward her consort and protector as if to say she would be fine and could take care of herself. Could she? who knew. ’I do hope we have not insulted you in any way, Emperor Arcerion. Our alliance and your lack of hesitation to assist the Black Sun fill me with hope and gratitude. There will be much we can accomplish together— even if a merging does not rest over the immediate horizon.’

Ghanima performed another graceful and traditional bow or curtsey between equals and then would rest one brown hand over her heart. It was symbolic of trust— she wasn’t quite naive enough to put true faith in any power that could bowl her entire empire over in a single rush, but alas, it was all part of the game. Chess pieces moved even with such small, serene gestures.

’Might we speak over the ultimate conclusion of your offer tomorrow? Over Sigha and at first light? It would be an honor to host you once again.’

[Sponsored content]