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 Amara Mandragoran
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Jan 7 2009, 12:05 AM |
Commander & House High Seat
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The throne room that Amara had imagined visualized before her. The heart of the castle, at the heart of the city, which was the heart of all Carthan. And the woman before, Queen Alliandre Trakand, the heart of its people. Little Ashling peered nervously from behind her mother's skirts. The deep sound of a man's voice beside her made her eyes widen with alarm and her fans moved almost of their own accord. The silk of her dress ripped itself free of his grasp as she spun between him and the royal family. His quick action kept her razor thin blades away from his throat. Amara cleared her throat softly and lowered her offensive position... a bit. Had he wanted to harm her or either of the others he would have been better off keeping his staff. As it was, Amara was not completely convinced of his benign nature, but she was enough of a diplomat to listen. She would just not be putting her weapons down yet... not for a long time yet. "You claim to serve our Queen but your tongue is not Kalimsheri, not even Carthian. Who are you stranger? Where do you hail from and what is your purpose? And, more importantly, where is it that you claim safety lies?" Amara's voice was cool, but not harsh. She did her best to keep the cool court mask on the features of her face. When she turned to face the man she realized just how stunning he was. Dark skin like the softest sand on the Kalimsheri beaches and eyes as deep a brown as the sweetest chocolate. She ignored the way his voice made her pulse quicken and furiously pushed away the thought of his hands on her skirts... and how she would not mind them returning there. She had a mission here, save the Queen and Heir. That was the Guild's purpose and she would not allow it to be under her command that they failed. |
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| No More Waiting... · The City | |
4:55 AM Nov 25
