@fatedfvllen
"You might consider yourself fortunate for making it past the hell hounds.” The tiresome, yet sharp, quip spoken with a whisper of animosity. There were many recipients to the Royal Advisor’s choice words. Considered steely at best, or vicious at worse. While Cian O’Gorman was privy to her honeyed words whispered between bed sheets, or the doe-eyed expressions made to induce a result -- he had rarely felt her thorns. That is, until his arrival onto the Jeweled City raised the brows of courtiers. Gabriel Beaumont’s injuries remained unresolved, and the Jeweled City enclosed into itself. The contentious relationship that lived between the Autumn and Night Court, only amplified by the fall of their High Lord. For a land so keen on its power in battle, it did little to protect her Lord of contain the risk. When news of the Autumn Court’s chief attorney reached her ear, in the midst of a council meeting no less, she had half a mind to turn Cian away. The stealthy could very well arrived, under his High Lord’s behest, to assess their vulnerability.
Ultimately, she receives him in the parlor of her apartments within the castle. Best their strength be proven, than her rejection spur rumors. The glamor concealing the black-and-blue bruises that ran along her pale physique, underneath the lace of black. Not quite mourning wear, but dour to reflect her High Lord’s existing state. “If our people had their way, we might keep you prisoner after your court failed us so.” Jacqueline continues, blunt and precise. No hindrance as she speaks to him, without the masquerade of her sweetness. She towers over his seated form, an ambivalent heir as she reaches for a piece of lint on his shoulder. “What are you doing here, Cian? I’m sure there are bedfellows closer to your parts.”
