The fucking Temple? What have the Gods ever been able to do against LongNight? It’s stupid, and Wessex clearly thinks so. Not only that, but Amalia knows better. Unfortunately (or fortunately) she doesn’t have to justify herself to Loren in this regard. It is a decision that can wait another couple of weeks. “I’ll take those feelings into consideration. Regardless of their refusal - we need to keep preparing, ” the Queen says and promptly moves on. By then Jigano, who she thinks likes to oppose her just to oppose her, may not be in any shape to have input, so there.
“Zariah had a Prison built. I personally resolved not to use it unless absolutely necessary… but depending on what happens, it may end up being absolutely necessary.” She makes a sound like a frustrated growl, betraying her feelings on the matter. And unbeknownst to Loren, at being left out of knowing what’s going to happen. She decided to trust her Lady, she agreed to be bright, to endear herself, to lead. And that involves making the hard decisions, but there are so many unknowable factors. How to get them in to the prison? Will they kill themselves - or each other - in there? “I should probably take a look at this Prison, just in case. Do you know what might make others wary of the Manor? What could Zariah have done to it? Other than the rumored ways to listen in on conversations.”
Which means that Zariah might have heard a lot of sex going on upstairs. And downstairs. And in the Queen’s chambers. What a kinky little thing to put in place.
As for the rest of his explanation, Wessex is quiet for a long time, thoughts obviously running haywire behind her eyes. She takes her gaze off of Loren as she formulates her thoughts, knowing that it is necessary to know exactly what she wants to say and how to say it. This is important speech-making time.
“I understand that you have had prior experiences that make you think a certain way. Caution isn’t bad. It’s very necessary. You know nothing about me and so - you want to protect those you love. I get that.” She looks around the room, out the window to the world outside. Her world. “I’m not in the habit of justifying myself. Never have been. I tend to think that what people don’t understand is their own problem and move on. But you and the rest of the people here need to know something: I’ve personally changed wet smallclothes on about a quarter of the Naturals when they were toddlers. Helped raise Amalia.” Ha, lot of good that did. “These are my people. This is where my family is buried, where my heart lies. And when I fight - and I do fight - it is with those who can defend themselves. Ask anyone here what Wessex’s word is worth and they’ll tell you I always make good on it. I do not hurt children. Is that clear?”
Settling back into her chair, she turns her eyes back to the Launceleyn. She’s not here to debate her ruling style with him. “I will protect everyone equally, as best I can. We do not tolerate discrimination against anyone. Or retaliation.” Had they posted that change? Fuck, she can’t remember but makes a mental note to check the Notice Board. “Now is that really what you wanted to say, or are you dancing around something?”
Cause they might as well have it out if he is. WESSEX come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts
unsex me here
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strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff
