Even if it doesn’t matter, there’s the appearance to maintain. In lieu of actually being able to to do something the Queen believes must find a way to provide comfort where there is none to be found. Like right now, when Jigano’s rage is in full force and she has no idea what he was going to say. His outburst would likely be more scintillating than Phoebe’s, filled with words well-practiced and thought out, aiming to kill - not wound. Sitting back in her chair, Wessex crosses her hand across her stomach, elbows at the arm rests. “No,” she says, truthfully. “I didn’t. And I hope that in the same way I don’t hold anyone responsible for the Old Gods hatred of me, you don’t hold me responsible for my Goddess’s actions. This is their war. Time and time again we have been unwitting pawns.” Which is exactly what she’d told Ronin.
And then far more softy than the previous statement, she looks at Jigano and the way he’s doing his best (it is admirable, she will happily admit that) to keep from exploding and ruining the pow-wow. “If it would be better to say it, you can. I have… a thick skin.” A slight shrug. He doesn’t have to, but the offer is there, if he needs an outlet.
When Loren’s siren idea is partially shot down, Wessex sighs and leans forward again, putting her chin into her hands. It’s an unnatural position for her - but it betrays her frustration and her lack of ideas. “Please do. Thank you. I would rather us stay together. Or in two places that are close. If you're alright with the Guild, as a definite place, I am. Might ease some sense of claustrophobia. Then we can choose a second place from there if need be.” She’d heard the concerns about the Launceleyn Manor loud and clear, and even with the two of them taking down the magic walls, the ghost of Zariah still haunted the rooms. It’s fine. But she should probably tell Loren to focus his preparation efforts elsewhere.
And then far more softy than the previous statement, she looks at Jigano and the way he’s doing his best (it is admirable, she will happily admit that) to keep from exploding and ruining the pow-wow. “If it would be better to say it, you can. I have… a thick skin.” A slight shrug. He doesn’t have to, but the offer is there, if he needs an outlet.
When Loren’s siren idea is partially shot down, Wessex sighs and leans forward again, putting her chin into her hands. It’s an unnatural position for her - but it betrays her frustration and her lack of ideas. “Please do. Thank you. I would rather us stay together. Or in two places that are close. If you're alright with the Guild, as a definite place, I am. Might ease some sense of claustrophobia. Then we can choose a second place from there if need be.” She’d heard the concerns about the Launceleyn Manor loud and clear, and even with the two of them taking down the magic walls, the ghost of Zariah still haunted the rooms. It’s fine. But she should probably tell Loren to focus his preparation efforts elsewhere.
