The soldiers that had led them in proceeded to the walls of the room, lining it. Unlike the Academy's Hall, this was a space that could only truly hold an audience to around a small number. Past two hundred, it would have struggled, whereas that Hall of Judgent, or Hall of Ministers – as others called it – could hold upwards of a thousand.
The walls bore the traces of an art style ill matched with the Queen herself. There were murals that painted images of war, all the way up the walls, and towards the high ceilings. Only halfway up could the Queen's influence be felt, in traces of gold, green and silver, with softer images of so strength.
"Her Majesty Queen Asabel Pendragon welcos you to Valance!" Lancelot announced. He'd leaned in close to Asabel, as she said sothing in his ear, and then had announced it on her behalf.
Finally, Oliver was forced to look at the woman herself, and imdiately, he regretted it.
The very sight of her was like a blow to the heart. She was a beautiful woman, beyond beautiful, if it be put truthfully, but that was not the only thing that gave her such a fearso aspect. There was a danger to her, of the sort that a lioness carried. rely eting her eyes felt like inciting a feline to pounce.
In the short year since Oliver had seen her last, she'd changed imnsely. She'd grown – she was truly a young woman now – but that was not where her biggest change lay. The biggest change, by far, was in her presence. Though there were so many people in that small audience chamber, it was Asabel's presence that pervaded them all.
One could say that was rely because it was she that was on the throne, dressed as a Queen should be. It was only natural that a Queen should have presence, after all, but Oliver felt it to be different. He felt it in the sa way Lombard had felt it of the soldiers that held the gates. These were not rely n in the service to Queen Asabel.
They were not n simply doing a job, because they were ordered to. They were her n, as a good General's n were his n. There was the scent of Command in what she held, though it was different to the Command that Oliver knew.
He found her to be looking right at him. Her lips were in a flat line, but he could have sworn that her eyes were smiling, though it was hard to tell from such a distance.
She leaned in to speak to Lancelot once more. "I imagine you have travelled all this way for good reason, have you not?" Lancelot said, once more loudly speaking on her behalf.
'So this is a Queen,' Oliver thought. Her voice ca from twenty different people. It was like a many-headed monster. All of their eyes looked their way, and all of their eyes contained their Queen's words.
"Indeed, we have co with reason, Your Highness," Lombard said, bowing. "First, we must thank you for receiving us so warmly. I wish to pay complints to your guardsn at your gates and toll roads. That you have instilled such discipline and order in them so quickly is a testant to your aptitude as a leader."
Blackthorn took the complint for the Queen with a distinct glow of pride about his broad face. Lord Farley Idris had to silence him with a quiet elbow to his side, before he could speak up on the Queen's behalf.
"Your words an a great deal, Captain Lombard," Lancelot said, once more speaking for the Queen. "They do, however, carry the tone of a man comparing our guards to elsewhere. Did you et trouble passing through the Pendragon mainlands?"
The Captain stirred with a raised eyebrow, surprised to have been seen through. "I would not make comnt on allies to the Asabalian throne, Your Highness," Lombard said carefully, but his response seed to be all the confirmation that she needed.
"That is misfortunate. I will have to speak to my father, King Pendragon and have him soften his attitude towards my visitors. Given my position, after all – geographically – I shall be unable to exist if he does not give passage to those that seek ," Queen Asabel said, speaking through her mouthpiece.
They were words filled with all sorts of implications. One could sense, even without hearing her say them, what kind of emotions lay behind them. No one doubted she was being t with trouble. She'd Quarter Inherited, and been given lands as was her right, but the way she'd been positioned geographically made her powerless before the Pendragon main house.
"A castle on the Yarmdon border might solve such a problem," Lombard said. "Though, we would have to push back the Verna border to make proper accommodations for it."
"You speak for the benefit of your Lord, even in matters that you need not have tied to him," Queen Asabel noted. Lancelot made her tone sound accusatory.
Lombard imdiately dipped his head with a sudden humbleness. "Forgive , Your Grace," he said, kneeling. "I have overstepped."
"Rise, Captain Lombard," the Queen said. "Anyone would know rely from looking at you that your words are not to be disregarded. You gave your arm in defence of the peasantry – a fact that unites you and I, in our outlook. We have considered, as you have said, such a castle – but as you are well aware, we could not intend to make such matters happen alone."
"I acted upon the orders of my Lord Blackwell," Lombard said. "It would be unbecoming of to accept praise for the strategic decision to defend a re village. Ordinarily, I would have allowed it to beco a sacrifice for greater goals."
"I see," Queen Asabel said. It ought to have sounded sad, given her expression, but from Lancelot, it only sounded distasteful.
"As you have already gathered, Queen Asabel, my Lord would like your support in the matter of our campaign to the East," Lombard said. "You have offered it to us in the past, and we have been forced to refuse your assistance. Now, we dare to ask it of you again."
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