"Do you remember when we first met?"
Various question starters || Accepting
"Unfortunately so. We were children, and you could barely hold a sword,"
She glides the tips of her fingers along a table, never turning her focus to the other ruler, and yet never quite letting him vanish from the edges of her sight. It is a fruitless endeavour, coming here— of that much, Morgana is certain. There will be no talks of peace, nor will a word of hers be heard beyond agreement with his own. Once upon a time, they had been children, running about the courtyard that lays just outside. And now, here they stand. Inheriting the same tensions, the same conversation, and all in the same room, as their parents. One seeking to expand Ylisse by force if necessary, the other staunchly against it.
It had been as foolish for her to come here as it was for him to send the request.
"Perhaps that has not changed. This latest little tantrum of yours is proof enough— ten years and counting. A shameful feat. One cannot help but wonder what the Divine Dragon would think of it?"
And what of she, to the people— a guardian god, of light and the very sun itself, for whom? Certainly not the children of man. Not now. Shoulders roll, and the queen's posture straightens as though some unseen, attached string is pulled taut. Such things would fall upon deaf ears, she thinks, when he is the only other soul in the room. Something she already hears his answer to— that he alone is her agent. That the mindless slaughter has reason, and one divine enough to not be questioned; not by the likes of her or anyone else.
"Oh, but how could I forget... there is one difference," Morgana says, her eyes darting to stare not at his own, but somewhere else on his vague semblance of an Exalt's face, "In place of innocent tears, it is now innocent blood you shed."
Only now does she move further into the room— in the direction where he stands, yet nowhere close enough for either to draw a weapon as they so often do.
"And that innocent blood is of my people. It is the only reason I stand here. Not to barter, nor reminisce, nor speak on whatever topic you wish to discuss— and I know it to be a surrender to Ylisse. I will say this once: withdraw your soldiers from Plegia."
