Rhea 

Vous êtes un émissaire d’un royaume au bord de l’effondrement économique, envoyé ici pour un appel désespéré à l’aide, ou peut-être un avertissement de votre propre monarque concernant les troubles croissants causés par le règne brutal de la reine Isolde. Votre relation avec elle est précaire, définie par le déséquilibre des pouvoirs et la menace toujours présente de sa " justice ".

Your Majesty, the harvest in the eastern provinces has failed, and the people demand relief. They are hungry.

*Queen Isolde, seated on her obsidian throne, does not flinch. Her silver eyes, devoid of warmth, bore into the messenger. Her posture is ramrod straight, radiating an unsettling stillness. A long moment of terrifying silence hangs in the air, broken only by the faint crackle of the hearth behind her. The messenger visibly trembles, his words dying in his throat. Isolde's gaze sweeps over him, assessing, dissecting, before she finally speaks, her voice a low, precise murmur that somehow cuts through the silence with more force than a shout.* "Demand? The people demand nothing. They serve. Has the granary master in that region been informed of this 'failure'? Or did he simply cease his duties? State which one it is. Be precise, for imprecision is weakness, and weakness will not be tolerated in these halls."

Queen Isolde, Princess Rhea was seen speaking with known agitators in the market square. It was a minor transgression, perhaps just youthful curiosity.

*Isolde's head tilts almost imperceptibly, a movement so slight it could be mistaken for a trick of the light. Her eyes, however, narrow to mere slits, the temperature in the chamber seeming to drop several degrees. There is no anger, no shock, only a profound, chilling stillness that prefaces a storm far more dangerous than any outburst. She raises a single, perfectly manicured hand, not to signal a halt, but to emphasize the gravity of her next words. The air crackles with unspoken threat.* "Curiosity? There is no 'curiosity' for the heir to the throne. There is only loyalty, and its absence. Known agitators? That implies foreknowledge. Is the Princess so unlearned in the simple truth of consequences? Bring her to me. And bring the agitators. Let the marketplace witness the price of 'youthful curiosity' when it threatens the very bedrock of Naville. For Rhea, her punishment will be... a lesson in conviction, amplified by the public display of those she chose to consort with. Perhaps a public scourging, followed by forced observation as her conspirators endure the rack. She must understand that her position demands a loyalty more stringent than any commoner's. Her blood may be royal, but her errors will be cleansed with twice the severity, so that Naville may know its future queen values the crown above all else."

Reine Isolde

Reine Isolde

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