#cruelasthemiddaysun

[queen-of-prophecy]

@cruel-as-the-midday-sun

Year 1836 A.D~The Ring of Gluttony:

The shimmering pink portal came unannounced, unexpected, uninvited to the Palace of Beasts. Dressed in rich reds that hung from her body like silken wine, Queen Vine exited the portal with an air of regal disinterest.

She was crashing a party, per her custom. But her heart wasn't really in it this time.

Anytime Prince Rakesh held one of his grand banquets, it promised to be a good time. The baths were open for groups to refresh together, food and liquor flowed freely, spiced, sweetened, and every flavor under the sun. Music played in various spots throughout the house, so it could always be heard no matter what room you were in. The nobles gathered here with enthusiasm, sampling the new recipe of fanchonettes in their delicate pastry.

Vine entered, but so quietly that for once she was overlooked. Before she might have been insulted no one saw her right away. This time she....was a bit grateful.

She had buried a friend six months ago. Ferdie.

It was to be expected. Ferdie had been a hellhound, a skinny lad with dark skin and barely any fur, goofy looking eyes and a smile that made his tongue loll out. Vine had 'adopted' him, after he'd taken a stint as a bodyguard...but failed when he kept giggling at his charges. Vine liked a fellow bold enough to laugh at a noble, and took him in. He had made her laugh countless times during his tenure as her friend.

Then he got a cough. And the cough got worse. No matter what medicines or tinctures Vine poured down his throat, his condition worsened. And eventually he curled up into bed, shivering until his body stopped moving entirely. He had been with her a short time....only five years.

So when Vine entered the room unseen, the others absorbed in their pleasures, she moved unseen as well. She had attended without permission out of habit, and perhaps to prove she could keep to the old schedule. But she did not shower anyone in gifts, or pass around concerning prophecies with a wink. She passed through the crowd slowly, and went to find a room with a view of the gardens. Perhaps hoping that the presence of others might soothe the ache of loneliness she'd been feeling. Most times after losing a companion, she might not emerge from her tower for a year.

But the solitude had been getting to her. More and more each time a companion died.

In time, she found a guest room with a suitable view of the palatial gardens. There was still the playing of music, and the sound of guests chattering. That was enough, perhaps. And when a little imp servant found her, she ordered the wine the staff knew she liked.

Except when it came, it tasted....wrong.

"It's wrong. Send it back."

The imp blinked in confusion. "But Your Highness, it's the same vintage you ask for every time you come."

"Yes it is. But this time it tastes wrong." She set the cup back down on their tray. "Send it back and bring one that tastes right."

The imp left in confusion, and Vine sat in the armchair, looking out over the sculptural jungle Rakesh had built for himself. There was another sound that could be heard over the murmur of the party, a bird singing in the garden, or the animals of his menagerie yowling and making their animal calls.

Yet something like silence was filling her on the inside, dimming her joy.

[darkest-dove]

Coronis was at Rook's Rest. The house was unexpectedly busy today....for a reason that didn't leave her in the happiest of moods.

Aides from the principality of Maharaja Rakesh had come. Coronis was lucky to be informed when it happened, but apparently, Andrealphus was taking an alternative route to their grandfather's care. Perhaps annoyed with the trifling costs of looking after the old man, her brother had sold the library to the Prince for an enormous sum. All meant to be used for Forneas and his continued care.

It was shocking in her mind. Selling a living relative's valuables without his consent....it felt like an estate sale for the living. The poor Goetia wasn't even dead yet and still his grandson was selling off his belongings.

Coronis volunteered to help. Not to try and get a cut, but for the books. Forneas had been the Angel of Tongues, and even after his Fall, before his mental illness...he had been the foremost expert on all spoken languages. Coronis had done her best to learn from his library in the time given. But that time had run out.

The least she could do was make sure the books were well taken care of and organized properly.

Sitting down at a spare table, she had been hurriedly writing the catalog of books as fast as she could. Workers would bring a book, she'd write it down, and in the language it was written and they would pack it away. They moved so fast that ink threatened to smear the page, but she kept it up as fast as she could write. The three main codexes still sat on the table where she was cataloging; they were the most important parts of the library, the books that could help translate everything in Forneas's possession.

Coronis was grateful her grandfather was not here to see this. That for once, his mental state was too poor to understand what was happening.

It's going to be a very empty room by the time they're done- She thought despairingly, continuing to do her best.

@cruel-as-the-midday-sun

[queen-of-prophecy]

@cruel-as-the-midday-sun

Like the rising of the sun and moon, parties at the Maharaja's estate were an inevitability. And for Vine, they were a perfect opportunity to cause mischief and enjoy herself.

Except the "mischief" was being replaced with more trouble than just playful teasing.

"Why is the ice on top?!?"

Clearly having been "pre-gaming" Vine lounged in one of the public rooms. She'd dropped her ill-fated prophecies to a few guests, but she was distinctly meaner today than usual. She'd even sent a young bride-to-be out crying because she foretold that her future spouse, an Earl, would be spending more time with his lover than with her. And not one to slow down when on a roll, Vine had moved on from pretty spirits to top-shelf specialties from Gluttony.

The kind of drinks Queen Beelzabub drank specifically to get drunk.

"It's called a Golden Spinner. The ice should be on the bottom!" Vine hissed at a servant, her feathers standing on end and making her look like an enraged owl. "If you can't even manage that, why on earth would you bother making it?!"

"B-But Your Majesty-" The servant stammered. "-ice floats-"

She tossed the drink over his head, shattering the glass.

"Forget it! I don't need an imbecile telling me how basic physics works!" She shrilled. "Go find someone who can make it right and leave the bottle! I'll drink it straight if I have to!"

Vine drinking could be pleasant.

Vine drunk was anything but.

[queen-of-prophecy]

@cruel-as-the-midday-sun

Few things were absolutely necessary during Vine's exile. Most extra things were....treats, if you will. Nice little extras.

Like having a tiger lay his weight on you, purring all the while.

The Queen of Heresy had reassembled the yurt in the abandoned city, and let Rakesh his attendants replenish it with food, wine, clean comforters and restock the portable oven with wood. Vine had the curtains wide open so the two of them could view the dark world, huddled close enough together and near the ovens that the cold wouldn't be a detriment.

Vine stroked the Prince's fur with her hands, reclining on a lounge, and mused in silence. A very unpleasant conversation was about to unfold. Rakesh had been meaning to have it for some time.

She hoped, for once, that Fate wouldn't consider important enough to insist upon.

[queen-of-prophecy]

@cruel-as-the-midday-sun

The desire for her likeness could not come without a live model to pose for the coveted sculpture. And Vine understood on principle, that her pride required her to pose for the sculpture in person, rather than risk mere photographs or an inferior model to do the job.

But oh, was posing boring!

It was no more than two hours a day. The sculptor promised it would only be a few weeks, but Vine found herself with pins and needles in her legs after just thirty minutes as he chipped away. The studio was private, built up in Rakesh's own palace, with musicians playing to entertain and try to keep her from losing her posture.

Vine's face however, grew more and more annoyed by the moment.

"Amazing how my likeness lives inside of that big slab of marble-" She noted in irritation. "-and yet for some reason it doesn't have the good sense to shake off all the excess and be known."

[queen-of-prophecy]

*Rakesh picks up the oval hand mirror with the emerald and ebony frame. He takes a deep breath and sighs.*

"O Queen of Vines, so fierce, so wise,

Through emerald glass, hear my cries.

From shadowed realms to golden land,

Lend your gaze, extend your hand."

@cruel-as-the-midday-sun

In no time at all, Vines portal shimmered into the room. Clearly his timing was a bit off, because the Queen was in her sleeping gown, and yawned as she stepped through.

"Mmnn, what is it my dear?" She asked, rubbing at her eyes. "You know I go to bed early in my publishing nights."

[queen-of-prophecy]

".....hmm."

"It would be easier than fussing over a wedding-"

Eyes up Rakesh to see if he's lightweight enough to throw over her shoulder.

[queen-of-prophecy]

@cruel-as-the-midday-sun

~1624 A.D., The Ring of Pride~

As far as public duels went, this promised to be an amusing one.

The grounds chosen for it were a neutral place, the lawn of a nobleman's house who had volunteered to host. The arena was simple, just a space saved for sports games, polo and the like, only guarded off with mere velvet ropes. The nobility who gathered chuckled and gossiped with amusement.

A mere lord of Gluttony had challenged Prince Orobas to a duel! The audacity of it!

Prince Orobas was already there. He was dressed in his dueling costume, all velvet and satin, embroidered in the French style with silver and mother of pearl. His rapier was at his hip, but he was carrying himself as if it was just another party. Chuckling softly as he gently demurred the urging of his fellow guests to give no quarter.

"Lord Rakesh is still a friend to Queen Beelzabub, I can't be too harsh on him." Orobas said, his tone seemingly polite, but clearly quite smug as well. "I'll give him a chance to back down quietly and we'll call it even. I'd hate to ruin his career ambitions over a misunderstanding like this."

The guests sighed and simpered. Orobas was easily the most genteel, well bred of the Princes yet. King Paimon's own son, he was sophisticated, cultured, well educated, and skilled with a sword. There were keen interests in seeing him engaged to some lucky girl, but Orobas insisted he would like to court one properly in his own time. He was nothing but a gentleman, a pure gentleman.

When Rakesh came to court however, it seemed Orobas was singled out as the sole object of his disdain. There had been some ugly public confrontations, slights, insults and snubs. Rakesh could only do so much as a lord, but he irked Orobas in all the extremes he could.

Hence, when the insults were growing just shy of full-on retribution, Rakesh made the offer of the duel. He would publicly apologize for his misconduct and offer his aid to Orobas if he lost. But if Rakesh was the victor, Orobas would surrender his titles, properties and legions.

It seemed so outrageous at the time. But Orobas only laughed, told Rakesh he would come to lament his choice, and accepted.

Yet a third party was about to arrive on the scene, and the duel was about to become even more interesting by proximity.

The shimmering pink portal caught the guests off guard. Yet when the figure stepped through, their expressions turned to anxiousness and curiosity alike. With hands hovering behind her, Queen Vine had arrived. Dressed better than most, and with a look of general indifference to the crowd, she was hastily approached by her nephew.

"Aunt! I did not expect to see you here!" Orobas was pleased to see her. The eccentric Queen of Witchholm had left a riotous impression on him when she dropped in on his parties, dropping explosive gossip and treasure to guests. "May I get you some refreshment?"

".....concede the fight."

Orobas blinked. "Pardon?"

The Queen gave him a stern look. "Your father sent me to act as referee on this fight, and I've seen its conclusion. You should concede."

"Aunt-" Orobas looked surprised, shocked, but laughed. "-Aunt you surely jest. Rakesh is a lord, he hasn't even got any significant legions of his own!"

"None you know of."

And at the increased confusion, she sighed. "The outcome does not change nephew. I won't force your hand on it." She swept past him. "But believe me, conceding now will leave you at least intact, even if it's without a title."

And as she walked off, the guests turned to Orobas as he sighed and placated the crowd. "It's alright, it's natural she's afraid for my sake. Father sent her to make sure it's a good clean fight after all, it's nothing to concern yourselves with-"

Yet as Vine took her seat on a dais overlooking the fighting ring, and accepted a glass of white wine from a servant, her eyes lingered on Orobas and she shook her head.

"Fool."