FADE RIFT [INBOX]

[shri]

ＬＡＤＹ ＬＡＫＳＨＭＩ
( Lady Lakshmi, Bai Saheba, Rani Lakshmibai )

ＶＯＩＣＥ | ＡＣＴＩＯＮ | ＮＯＴＥＳ

Unavaliable To All:

• 30mins around dawn
  
  Only to Voice:
  
• Hour training morning and evening
  
• Any time she's gone riding.
  
• When she's in the field.
  
  Only to Book:
  
• When she's otherwise in a meeting, leave a message.
  
• Very late at night or early in the morning.
  
  Other:
  
• She usually takes her morning meals in the mess hall with everyone else.
  
• Her days are usually spent in Kirkwall seeing to either her personal business or Inquisition tasks.
  
• She has a bath twice a day, every day.
  

Comments

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty feels dizzy with rage. She snaps after her, voice a snarl, her accent inflected with the commoners' mode of speech that her mum and her teachers had tried to beat out of her - ]

There's no one that'd give their lives for me. Sorry we're not all your-bloody-majesty who can pretend to be humble. Some of us actually are humble, and the moment we start kissing the feet of animals is the moment it's all over for us. We haven't got fine silks and pretty manners to put back on afterwards. We're stuck in he mud.

[shri]

[ She reaches the horse as Kitty finishes. Snagging the reigns, in a hand that grips so hard it turns white. ]

Enough.

[ Just the flat word, empty of anything else, holding still and still and still, easing the deep breath that never quite drew in all the way anymore. Old bullets and old bones kept in a young face. ]

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty, though, just laughs, her voice high and contemptuous. ]

Enough? Enough? Sorry about this, ever so sorry, but you aren't my queen. You can't tell me what to do. You know that doing away with monarchies means that you don't get to order other people around like they're your servants, right?

[shri]

[ And the contempt is met with something far, far, far uglier. That cold, and that flat, and that angry. They kind of woman that burned London at its heart. All the woman that is kept for moments away from this, unforgiving on battlefields, where it surely knows its place. It's not shouting and snarling, it's the same, deep, perfectly toned voice. Neither rising nor falling. Because it is too much, it is too much to listen to an English Child tell her after so much, about losing all. ]

Yes. Enough. You will take these reigns and you will get on this horse and you will leave.

[ In through her nose, out in a hard line. A simple equation. ] Or would you like me to remember what the commoners from your homeland did in the streets of my home. I will remember being Queen, and I will remember the screams as English voices that talk like you do now that did not care whether they killed rich or poor and burned everything - everything - I love to the ground. I can be that if that is what you wish. Because it seems whatever respect between us hinges upon who we were before we came here. So I can, of course, oblige.

[ And she lifts the reigns up, directly up to her. ] Or would you like to say enough, and take the reigns, and leave?

[rathercommon]

[ With hot, ferocious anger, she leans forward, and snaps in return - ]

Yes, ever so sorry for the way my people were victimized and forced to go to war. So sorry for the way they were used and exploited.

[ And then she leans back, and says with a queenly hauteur of her own - ]

I'll walk.