Post by Vala on Sept 26, 2016 16:56:50 GMT 10
Title: Infallible
Rating: G
Summary: Berenene and Ishabal have a talk in which Berenene thinks she's infallible.
Warnings: none
...
When Ishabal entered the room and the Empress’ plump lips were curved upwards in a sadistic smile, she knew the news of Tris’s fall from grace – or rather the stairs – had already reached her.
Berenene laid a soft hand on Ishabal’s forearms and delightedly said, “Darling Isha you did wonderfully! A little too well, perhaps,” she pursed her lips, but continued, “But nothing that cannot be fixed by a word from my mouth that our bookish friend of Lady Sandrilene’s is not the most agile person around, and thus unable to save herself from the fall.”
“I did only what you asked of me, My Highness,” Ishabal’s voice was polite, clipped, her face drawn and pale.
“I only hope that my darling cousin does not suspect a curse,” Berenene murmured, “Now that would be most unpleasant to explain. But you can handle the accusations of course, can’t you?” This was a command, not a question. “For it wouldn’t do for me to get involved, not at all,” she tutted, “Now my reputation must not be tarnished. But as for you, you needn’t protect yours any longer, the whispers about your curse working have spread far throughout the kingdom.”
Ishabal nodded, hands clenched, though her face betrayed nothing of her true feelings. Of course the Empress would want her to take the blame, rather than risk herself. Who cared that she was the one who commanded it! No, the Empress was selfish and had always been, seeing others as nothing more than chess pieces on her game that she could maneuver and kill, puppets she commandeered on a string.
“What if Sandrilene does decided to go anyway?” Ishabal questioned, full well knowing what she was doing, and not caring. Her words could be easily taken as an insult that Berenene would fail in her goal, “She seemed quite adamant about leaving.”
Berenene gave a light an airy laugh, and waved her hand flippantly, “She will not. And if she does,” she added testily, cold calculation glinting maniacally in her eyes, “We shall raise the magic border and bring them back here on leashes. That should teach them not to try me. And then the winter shall soon come and they daren’t venture out in that weather, no matter how handy Trisana is with the weather.”
The Empress paused for a moment, savouring the taste of victory that she could foresee. Ishabal was less assured of their success, doubts swarming her mind. The Empress was so sure, so certain, but...she was so in control, so used to getting what she wanted, that it was possible she underestimated her opponents. That was what it was like, Isha thought, to not have an equal for so long. The board becomes so docile in your eyes and you begin to forget that the pawns have a mind of their own...
“Oh, they shall be assets to my court,” Berenene crowed triumphantly. “You saw how Sandrilene passed her first test of the poisoned cloth brilliantly, she, her money bags, and seamstress skills shall be invaluable to me and make the court a much gaudier place. Daja shall bring the Traders to me, Trisana provide assistance in weather and battle magic to you, and Briar will make my gardens the most envied all around.”
A cold, pleased, smile graced the Empress's face. Oh, Berenene knew she was in control, knew she was infallible, the knowledge that the magical barrier would not fail secure in her mind. The prize envisioned in her hands, Berenene's smile grew wider. She was the player and the pieces at her beck and call. She was never going to fail.
But she didn't feel Ishabal watching her. She didn't see Ishabal shaking her head, slowly, ever so slowly. You will learn, Isha thought. Someday you will have to learn what it’s like to not get what you want with a snap of your fingers. Someday those pieces you dismiss will revolt. Someday you will learn what it's like to fail, and I hope it’s soon, for the sake of us all.
…
And so, when the magical barrier was shattered, and Ishabal reported back to Berenene, she surveyed the Empress’s raging tantrum with a judgemental and critical eye.
You thought you were infallible, but you weren’t you fool.
Rating: G
Summary: Berenene and Ishabal have a talk in which Berenene thinks she's infallible.
Warnings: none
...
When Ishabal entered the room and the Empress’ plump lips were curved upwards in a sadistic smile, she knew the news of Tris’s fall from grace – or rather the stairs – had already reached her.
Berenene laid a soft hand on Ishabal’s forearms and delightedly said, “Darling Isha you did wonderfully! A little too well, perhaps,” she pursed her lips, but continued, “But nothing that cannot be fixed by a word from my mouth that our bookish friend of Lady Sandrilene’s is not the most agile person around, and thus unable to save herself from the fall.”
“I did only what you asked of me, My Highness,” Ishabal’s voice was polite, clipped, her face drawn and pale.
“I only hope that my darling cousin does not suspect a curse,” Berenene murmured, “Now that would be most unpleasant to explain. But you can handle the accusations of course, can’t you?” This was a command, not a question. “For it wouldn’t do for me to get involved, not at all,” she tutted, “Now my reputation must not be tarnished. But as for you, you needn’t protect yours any longer, the whispers about your curse working have spread far throughout the kingdom.”
Ishabal nodded, hands clenched, though her face betrayed nothing of her true feelings. Of course the Empress would want her to take the blame, rather than risk herself. Who cared that she was the one who commanded it! No, the Empress was selfish and had always been, seeing others as nothing more than chess pieces on her game that she could maneuver and kill, puppets she commandeered on a string.
“What if Sandrilene does decided to go anyway?” Ishabal questioned, full well knowing what she was doing, and not caring. Her words could be easily taken as an insult that Berenene would fail in her goal, “She seemed quite adamant about leaving.”
Berenene gave a light an airy laugh, and waved her hand flippantly, “She will not. And if she does,” she added testily, cold calculation glinting maniacally in her eyes, “We shall raise the magic border and bring them back here on leashes. That should teach them not to try me. And then the winter shall soon come and they daren’t venture out in that weather, no matter how handy Trisana is with the weather.”
The Empress paused for a moment, savouring the taste of victory that she could foresee. Ishabal was less assured of their success, doubts swarming her mind. The Empress was so sure, so certain, but...she was so in control, so used to getting what she wanted, that it was possible she underestimated her opponents. That was what it was like, Isha thought, to not have an equal for so long. The board becomes so docile in your eyes and you begin to forget that the pawns have a mind of their own...
“Oh, they shall be assets to my court,” Berenene crowed triumphantly. “You saw how Sandrilene passed her first test of the poisoned cloth brilliantly, she, her money bags, and seamstress skills shall be invaluable to me and make the court a much gaudier place. Daja shall bring the Traders to me, Trisana provide assistance in weather and battle magic to you, and Briar will make my gardens the most envied all around.”
A cold, pleased, smile graced the Empress's face. Oh, Berenene knew she was in control, knew she was infallible, the knowledge that the magical barrier would not fail secure in her mind. The prize envisioned in her hands, Berenene's smile grew wider. She was the player and the pieces at her beck and call. She was never going to fail.
But she didn't feel Ishabal watching her. She didn't see Ishabal shaking her head, slowly, ever so slowly. You will learn, Isha thought. Someday you will have to learn what it’s like to not get what you want with a snap of your fingers. Someday those pieces you dismiss will revolt. Someday you will learn what it's like to fail, and I hope it’s soon, for the sake of us all.
…
And so, when the magical barrier was shattered, and Ishabal reported back to Berenene, she surveyed the Empress’s raging tantrum with a judgemental and critical eye.
You thought you were infallible, but you weren’t you fool.