James takes his seat at the overlong ornate table of the meeting room, and helps Marietta into her own seat by pulling the chair out for her as she pulls her dress forward to sit down without tearing it. He is tempted to make a joke at her expense, and he probably would, but the number of people at this meeting, and with how she admonished him before the previous meeting the other, he decides against it.
Incidentally, the nobles that are more ‘aware’ of royal families affairs are smart enough not to comment on why the two are allowed to sit next to each other, as opposed to the standard seating arrangement of male heirs to the left of their parent and females to the right. James eyes each of the major players at the meeting, mentally preparing the information he knows about each, as well as potential motives and their relations to the crown.
There is Marquis Plumwell, James notes that all of the minor lords have rallied behind him to oppose the crown on numerous issues as of late. Also Duke Kaulderfield, James and Marietta’s uncle and someone who takes the side of the crown over anything but his son. Said son, the duke’s eldest, John Kaulderfield, better known as the party leader of Crimson Mists, and a level nine cleric. After that are several noblemen and ministers of no real note to James, but General Arnester mixed in among them is noteworthy if only for the fact that he is not a general appointed to the role by James’s father. Lord and Lady Shatell are present, and James notes that, as usual, some sort of illusion magic is being used to prevent anyone in the room from looking directly at the pair, though James’s eyes can see through that with ease. More useless or unnoteworthy nobles, then circling back around to his side of the table, the seats are occupied by all of the various scribes, stand-ins, and one or two ambassadors from places James can’t remember.
Almost all of you are trash. James wants to spit his thoughts at them. Aside from his uncle and cousin, and maybe the Shatells, everyone in this room is someone James would kill without a second thought if he thought he and Marietta could escape afterwards. A bunch of spineless cowards, and the ones that do have them just have to be the ones most against what me and Marietta want.
“Now entering, His Majesty King Solomon Riverta!” An attendant declares from in front of the two ornate marble doors leading to the King’s personal access and preparation room. James eyes the two other attendants pulling the door open, and sees his father step through with pride and purpose.
His father, King Riverta, is dressed in a red robe inlaid with hundreds of green gemstones over a more decorated version of James’s own militaristic garb, complete with gold studs embedded in his bowtie in imitation of the Rivertan flag. The king waits for the two attendants previously holding the door to pull his chair out for him, and James turns his head to face forwards as his father sits down at the head of the table, directly to his right.
“You will now hear the voice of the King!” The attendant calls, before standing behind the king in a bulterly stance, one arm behind his back, and one in front of him, holding a tray with various items James’s father might use in the meeting.
“From here on, we won’t be standing on ceremony. The safety of the kingdom, its people, and the crown are to be the topics of this table. This is the second meeting since Princess Marietta’s prophecy, so no longer will I tolerate anyone here questioning the validity of her prophecies, and due to the presence of one of the people who was in said prophecy, I will not tolerate denial of established fact.” King Riverta looks around the table, setting his eyes on James and Marietta first, before nodding and confirming the presence of everyone else. “Begin.”
--
“My scribes tell me they’ve read every book they have on the subject, and they say that a Pactbond between an undead and an elf isn’t possible!” One of the loudest voices of the last fifteen agonizing minutes, Marquis Plumwell, finally shouts over the attendant that had been re-reading the full contents of Marietta’s official report.
“That’s exactly right, Marquis, and to add to that, it is inconceivable that there are any mortals currently alive that could be on an equal footing in terms of martial prowess as Maxmillion Caul and Violet Nondila!” A man James has come to hate, Lord Lloyd Kisen, shouts his opinion immediately after.
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Over all of the arguments that have broken out here, the king simply hangs his head in his hands, obviously preparing to explode in rage at all of the men not being productive. James turns, and sees Marietta’s blushed face in a mix of rage and fear, and he slides a hand close to her under the table. He watches her sigh of light relief as she takes it, and he turns to look at his cousin. John starts talking as if on queue the moment before James thinks his father was about to shout.
“Marietta’s prophecies have always been useful to the kingdom, and it is the official opinion of Crimson Mists that we heed them. If you won’t take this seriously, Crimson Mists will be withdrawing from the discussion. Additionally, I would like to note that if Vi herself overheard how highly of her you think, she'd admonish you for putting her on a pedestal.” John waits for everyone to stop talking before he continues, and James nods in thanks to him before his cousin begins. “Whether or not a member of the living can Pactbond with an undead is irrelevant, what matters is where the danger in this prophecy is coming from. Crimson Mists will investigate any suspected location where this undead army or either individual in the prophecy might be, but we can’t see the future. Everyone here should listen to the person who can. This threat is real, even if it isn't currently present.”
John sits down as silence falls over room as the various nobles opposed to the current issue process the implications not being in John's good graces or of Crimson Mists not being around if the threat happens to be somewhere on their lands, and James watches in disgust as none of them show a single hint of the bravery or confidence to even try and handle it themselves. The plan that Duke Kaulderfield, His Majesty, and James himself had suggested to the meeting was preplanned, but also the best option for defending the kingdom from unknown internal threats; in James’s words, fuck the standoff at the border with Etrest, fuck your petty sense of power over others, the royal family is assuming full control until this is stopped. Duke Kaulderfield’s wording had been better, hence why he'd been the one to do the actual talking, but many of the minor houses and less significant powers had obviously been protesting as much as they could.
Since even John and the Duke weren’t getting through to these idiots after a full minute of silent contemplation with no further discussion, James was about to stand and speak himself, until he feels Marietta squeeze his hand, and then release it. James wishes he’d had the time to squeeze back to assure her, but she stands and begins speaking before he can even try.
“There… is another possible preventative measure. If each of you will submit all of your domains for an inspection by some of the capital’s garrison, as well as providing food and camp for the soldiers as well, we could root out the source of the danger without subsuming the rule over any of your lands, temporary or otherwise.” Marietta’s suggestion is a sound one, and James wishes he could congratulate her on giving it, but alas, the moment she sits down, all of the lesser nobles begin chattering and whispering amongst themselves as if they had completely ignored her, and James feels his temper begin to boil over.
“Silence.” King Riverta declares with cold anger in his voice, and he looks past James to Marietta with what James thinks is probably approval. “We will now discuss the feasibility of The Princess’s plan, with all of the respect her opinion deserves.”
Unfortunately for James’s appreciation of the king’s statement, several nobles immediately begin arguing aggressively against the plan, using every bit of weaselly logic and outright refusal that they can. The king looks at his brother, and James watches the duke just shake his head in denial. James is about to lock eyes with Marietta, when he sees several of the nobles stand up or slam their fists on the table, trying to out-loud or intimidate their peers. The loudest voice comes from a familiar detestable creature, Lloyd Kisen
“Your Majesty! You can’t honestly expect those of us in smaller, less fertile lands to support a small army of soldiers while they ransack our peasant’s farms just because your daughter had some bad dreams, that is entirely-”
“Shut up or I kill you all.” James growls at no one in particular after ripping the golden ring off of his right hand, allowing his curse into his voice as he stands. He knows he’ll most definitely receive some sort of punishment for this, but- “Need I remind you that the daughter you speak of with such accusations is my sister? I could wipe your pitiful domain off the map if I felt like dying that day, are we understood?”
James doesn’t sit back down, instead, he lets the cackling negative energy wreath his body for a moment, before he suppresses the passive effects of the curse again by donning the ring. He sees his father start to stand, but doesn’t let a little thing like ‘consequences’ slow him down from instilling a proper amount of respect and fear into all of the wretches before him. Yet, before he can speak, his father does something he hadn’t expected ‘Kind’ King Solomon Riverta to do.
“Twin [Dominate]. Lloyd Kisen and Nathaniel Plumwell, kill yourselves. Princess Marietta’s proposed plan is accepted. Would anyone else like to test my son and daughter?”
--
Curse of Martyrdom: Gate(Realm of Torture and Suffering)
Martyrdom curses mark afflicted individuals with an effect that will occur upon their death, the effect is determined at the time they receive the curse, and cannot be changed or prevented, except by the god that granted the curse.