Elskia's beatific expression froze. "What?", she said.

"Oh hey, I'm just passing on the message. A few of the rebel leaders were talking y'know and, well, they all think that dress doesn't suit you. Or was it that you don't suit the dress? Anyway, they told me to pass it on," I replied, absentmindedly scratching my nose.

"W-w-well, that's n-not a very nice thing to say, but I'm sure that the stress of the day's events has inspired some harsh words which no one really means," she rallied.

A rebel leader encased in a gibbet sighed in relief, again, for what I'm sure were entirely unrelated reasons.

I shrugged, it was none of my business after all. "I guess you don't want to hear the rest then?"

Elskia had begun to stand, but my comment dragged her attention back to me.

"The rest?"

And I took that as an invitation.

"Well...," I began to count on my fingers, "white isn't really your colour; your demeanor is off-putting, a put-on girlishness that isn't fooling anybody; you're stuck up, down bad, and don't know left from right; they had a lot to say about your taste in interior decor, but the takeaway was just 'clashing was never in'; and based on the violin recitals they've heard drifting over the moor you're tone deaf too."

A look of relief passed over Elskia's face, "oh now I'm sure they must mean someone else. I don't play the violin, I sing. This must all be a misunderstanding."

"Right, to be exact, they said they hoped it was a violin, as, and I quote: 'fallen gods preserve us from whomever would do that to a cat'...Now, do you have a reply for me or not? I don't have all day."

"Y-yes, I do have a reply," Elskia managed to vocalize through gritted teeth. I could see a muscle in her jaw spasming, flickering her face between expressions of utter peace and incandescent rage, "but I shall deliver it myself thank you."

I gave her my best version of insolent ambivalence and took a few discreet steps back, sneaking to the side of the stage and deactivating Doppleganger to avoid any... misplaced unpleasantness.

Elskia rose to her feet and faced the woefully unprepared crowd. They continued to party, but wherever her gaze fell conversations stumbled and revellers paused to shiver, as if they sensed the gaze of a great predator had been turned upon them. She began to breathe in, her mouth so wide it looked like a snake unhinging its jaw to swallow prey; her chest grew and grew until I would swear she had grown to twice her own size.

"INSOLENT WORMS!"

The wall of sound slammed the guards below her to the ground. The delicate glasses of the gentry shattered, splashing fine wines in a wave of stained laundry.

"THE FLOW OF BLOOD, THE CRACKING OF BONE, THE SUNDERING OF FLESH, THESE WILL NOT SATE ME! OF YOU I WILL MAKE A RUIN: A MONUMENT OF PAIN TO SUNDER HISTORY AND BREAK THE WILL OF ALL WHO WITNESS!

A DARKNESS WILL COME AT MY BIDDING TO REND HOPE AND CUT THE TIES OF MAN—MOTHERS WILL SMOTHER THEIR BABES; FATHERS WILL END THEIR SONS; THE LAST GESTURES OF MERCY STOLEN BEFORE THE INFINITY OF MY WRATH!"

Elskia glared into the crowd, and where some would have shook in their anger, hers was one of absolute stillness, of perfect, terrible control.

"You heard her you louts," I barged into Elskia's group of underutilized soldiers, "go find the rebel leaders and bring them back here!"

And bless them if they didn't scurry into the crowd like mice before a cat. We didn't have to wait long before they began to return.

"Git yer hands off me!" A rebel leader shouted. A confused guard was being half dragged by them, hands forcibly held to the leader’s neck as they were 'captured'.

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"I'm trying! You won't let go!"

The remaining six came in like that, bedraggled guards half-dragged along by their supposed prisoners. The rebel leaders didn't even have the decency to feign dismay, the best they could manage was a half-hearted pantomime of anxiety broken up by giggling while they elbowed each other in excitement.

Elskia's temper had faded by then and she was looking on with a mixture of disbelief and delight.

"What did I tell you my lady," I called up to Elskia, "Speak from the heart and anything is possible."

She looked at me with bemusement, but her eyes narrowed as she noticed I was still wearing Hugh's clothing. Well crap, need to work that out later.

"She! You cheated!" Roderick charged over to Elskia's side, "You conspired with the mudmen to surrender to you after that..that display!"

"On the contrary Roderick, or can I call you Roddy? No matter, all the same really. You see, I can't believe I have to explain this to you, they threw themselves upon the mercy of our Lady after her powerful threat, in a desperate bid for leniency. I'm sorry Roddy, do you need any of those words defined? There were some bigguns afterall."

But the bluebloods were gathering to the scene, and Roderick visibly reigned in his temper at the approach.

Elskia became the centre of attention, the subject of many 'jolly good show's and 'put them exactly in their place my dear', but among them I could see a faint sheen of sweat on most brows and a certain nervous licking of lips had become fad. The winds were blowing in one direction it seemed.

But Roderick had one more trick.

"Well sister... let's hear it then. The promised torments. What terrible fate shall we inflict on these creatures who offended you so?"

Elskia was immediately on the back foot, without the right provocation she simply didn't have the cruelty at her fingertips. But that's why she had me.

"They shall be bound and half submerged in the mud on their backs, then the entirety of the stables will be sent over them at a gallop."

The gentry oohed and ahhed at the sentence, and I could already see the stifled grins on the mudmen. How did no one figure this shit out? They were not a subtle bunch, except for the one who was crying out in fear very authentically... Hugh!

“...Except for one, who will bear witness to the suffering of his brethren, that their fate never be forgotten... Picking entirely at random... that one! Bring him down!”

A pair of guards leapt to my order.

"Is that truly what you want? Gentle Elsie... I just don't see it in you," Roderick declared, his eyes locked with Elskia's. I could see her wavering, her essentially gentle nature coming to the forefront.

"My Lady!" I yelled. She broke the gaze of Roderick and looked to me, 'trust me,' I mouthed, and after a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

“A-as Hero said. Let them suffer the fate they brought upon th-themselves.”

And with that, things moved swiftly. The nobility fetched their destriers and chargers while the condemned rebels were trussed up and laid in a row to await their trampling. Roderick threw one last black look at me before abandoning the festivities with his men, and I knew there would be some kind of trouble later.

Elskia and I stood apart from the crowd as the horsemen began their gruesome parade display and, to my surprise, she didn't look away.

"Did I just condemn nine innocent mudfolk to die to secure my title?" she asked, and for the first time I heard the Baroness she could be. She spoke with steel, sounding neither like her usual airy, insecure self or the terrible tyrant she sometime embodied. I knew that even if I said yes, she would let things proceed, even while she hated me for it.

I sighed; this was going to be tricky to explain. "Look closely at the mudfolk. Do they look like they're witnessing the brutal execution of their friends?"

The mudfolk in the crowd were doing their level best to look cowed, but the effect was regularly ruined whenever a particularly brutal blow landed and they joined in the cheers.

"The mudmen have an insatiable love of bloodsport, and few social ties. I do not blame them, their circumstances would produce the same in any people—but I want more for them! And I'm sure the apathy of their kindred is little comfort to the dying."

I'd only embodied two mudmen at that point, but in both of them I had felt a strong love of their family—the only things that came close were their feelings for mud and, admittedly, ultraviolence. The latter mostly enjoyed when delivered unto themselves. Everyone here had a fundamental misunderstanding of the mudfolk, one that I'm sure had been cultivated by the mudfolk themselves.

"Look there, do you see those mudmaids and mudmen carrying the baskets? Those are the wives and husbands of the condemned. Are they carrying on in despair? No, they look bored. I'll tell you what's going to happen: after this 'brutal execution' they're going to collect the 'remains' of their beloveds, which to all appearances will be naught but a bunch of scraps of skin, but who's really willing to look close?” I lectured under my breath, careful to make sure no one else heard.

“And tomorrow you'll see nine new slim mudfolk will have taken up with the bereaved widows and widowers. Did they move on so fast? No! Those are their spouses, fresh and nimble after they've unloaded some deadweight. But don't take my word for it, wait here after dark and you'll see nine mudstreaked figures squirm their way out of the muck and amble back home with a spring in their step," I paused to catch my breath, before finally closing my argument with a contemplative air.

"Frankly, I'm not even sure they have bones. I think it's mostly cartilage? Or maybe they've got more joints or something, I'm not sure. The point is that none of this is even coming close to hurting them."

"You make them sound...inhuman," Elskia murmured.

"Hell, I'm pretty sure they're not—human, that is—just doing a very good job of resembling them. But does it matter? They don't hurt anyone; and, appearances to the contrary, they're having a great time."

Elskia looked deeply troubled, and I worried that I’d revealed too much to her. I’d scarcely had time to consider it myself, only bits and pieces had come together as I’d learned more about the mudfolk and intuited the connections.

"I-I understand Hero. Thank you, y-you'ved opened my eyes. If you'll excuse me, I need to think."

I took my cue and left her, discreetly grabbing Hugh on my way out.

"C'mon Hugh, let's get you out of there."