501-12-09 Council Log
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Friday, December 09, 501 A.G.
As the Emperor falls ill after an attack of a demon to the Imperial tower, the Empress calls his council to the audience chamber to discuss plans to carry on in the Emperor's absence.
A knight, most likely, announces the Baron's arrival. Such as it is. For his part, Raziel looks mildly intrigued as to why he would be summoned, yet, he walks in with an easy, though openly curious gait and expression.
Empress Mena is standing in the middle of the chamber, hands clasped in front of her tightly. The Mogur stands just behind her to her right hand side, with Aileana is resting in a chair close to the standing pair.
Aileana is sitting in one of the chairs not too terribly far from the Mogur and Empress, but there is definitely distance from the grumpy old mage. She does offer a strained smile to Raziel and inclines her head to him.
As Raziel is announced, the Empress looks in his direction. "Good evening, Your Excellency," she says in a solemn sort of tone. "Thank you for arriving so quickly."
Raziel bows, gallantly. "Your Highness," he greets of the Empress, first. "Your Grace," he says, bowing again. And, then an incline of his head to, "Mogur Imperius." He does not ask why he is summoned, mind. He knows he will be told, soon enough. Instead, he merely responds, "I was, fortunately, nearby, Your Highness."
The Mogur Imperius remains in his spot behind the empress. His bejeweled silver wand is in hand, and the arcane item is tapped idly against his thigh.
"Fortunate, indeed," the Empress answers. "We have decided that it is within the best interests of Mists, and therefore the best interests of this Empire to announce you betrothed to the Lady Meredith and named Regent to the heir that she carries, until such a time her child is ready to assume the duties of the duke or duchess." She pauses to take a breath, her gaze remaining intently upon the Baron. "Are you ready to accept this duty?"
Aileana just folds her hands to rest on her knee since her lap doesn't really exist any longer. Her gaze lingers on Raziel to wait for his answer.
Not /quite/ prepared for that. Yet, Raziel is a man of smooth etiquette, and smoother policy. The fact of the matter laid so bluntly before him slips as surprise over his face for only a moment, before a more neutral front is forced into play over his features. He clears his throat, hands slipping to link behind his back. He nods, once, voicing quitely, simply, "I am, Mogur Imperius." A pause, "Your Highness. Your Grace." Quite sure, of course, that all know in this room of his plans and plottings to do so anyways.
"I would that you call me Your Majesty, my lord," Mena states, with weight in her tone. "I support you in your new position. Your Barony will be handed to another to run. As Regent, you will have... an advisory... that's to say influence...," she trails off and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "You know.. you'll have a hand in picking that replacement out," she finally manages to get out. This one is trying very hard to hide a bundle of nerves that is just below a calmer surface. "I will need your support in return."
The Mogur briefly rests a hand on the shoulder of the Empress.
Aileana keeps her hands on her lap as she looks between the others present, a small smile of support cast towards Mena.
Raziel remarks, gently, "Your Majesty," he begins, quietly, "You ever had my support from the beginning of my - affairs," he assures her. His tone is sincere, as his expression. "As you will always. If I had not the love for the Empire, or Mists, as I do - if such convictions that I hold to my breast had not the strength they do, I would not have risked such as I did. For surely," he admits, "Such things as were undertaken were - dangerous, to one's potential for self-preservation. Twice, then, shall we say, that I have put my life in such peril for the better grace of the Empire. Only moreso now will I do that; for my responsibility is greater. And, having ventured with you," he says, quietly, "My appreciation - and my love for the Empress of Gateway is all the more." Pretty words, to be sure. And well spoken. But, he does seem to mean them. Quite intently.
Mena turns her head only slightly in the Mogur's direction before refocusing upon Raziel. "There was a demon attack upon this tower. My husband did not fare well," she tells the man, her hands tightening their grip upon one another. "All of the strength that remains in him is focused solely on keeping the Gate. He is not conscious, and there is no sign how long this will last. In his absence, I will take the reins of his Empire. Your support and the support of Mists is something I treasure, and it will not be forgotten."
Raziel notes, "Mists will do as we can; stronger, perhaps, with one who can inspire such people that are his responsibility, and who can earn their faith through deeds and convictions. Neither I, or the Isle shall fail, Your Majesty. Either yourself, or the Empire." Gentled convictions in his words, for the young Empress. Perhaps he feels for her position, and her pain.
Taptaptap. The silver wand is all of the movement to the Mogur.
Aileana's eyes widen a little bit at Raziel's reaction, "She her husband was attacked by a demon." For a moment, she can't seem to fathom how the man can be so...calm! And so goes the plight of the young.
There is a knocking upon the door, coming from the direction of Foyer -- Imperial Tower -- Gateway Castle.
"Then do stand with me, Your Grace," Mena says, motioning with one hand for Raziel to enter the room further. "I have sent for Draught. They shall..." she trails off again at Aileana's words, bowing her head and closing her eyes for another moment. "We will not fall." She says this more to herself than anyone else.
"And His Grace, the Duke Regent, has said that he and his will be a solid support," the Mogur answers Aileana in the quiet lion's purr.
Aileana just looks over to Mogur and offers a nod of her head, "Yes, of course." She goes back to sitting still with good courtly posture save for her burgeoning belly.
Mena's gaze lifts toward the door as it is knocked upon, calling out for the person to enter.
Empress Mena shouts, "Enter!"
The double doors open, and Duchess Draught enters from the foyer of the Imperial Tower. Her blue eyes glancing around with an arch of her brow as if in thought. A dip into a curtsey, "Empress.." is gently stated as she takes in her surroundings.
The Empress is standing in the middle of the room, the Mogur Imperius standing just behind her to her right. Aileana is resting in a nearby chair, and I don't know exactly what Raziel is doing. That's his pose!
Raziel takes Mena's hand, as prompted. A pause, though his mismatched eyes seem strangely foreign, now. His face turns towards the Duchess of Green Fields, "He was," agrees Raziel, his tone still that schooled gentlity. "Attacked by a Demon. I do not doubt that, Your Grace. But," he points out, pragmatically, "We neither do the Empress well by reminding her of such; for such is already weighted upon her mind. Nor will our worry and distraction for such news aid us, or the Keeper, in any manner. We must behave, in all facets and fashions, as if little is wrong. I do not wish to think what would happen outside these walls, should news of the Emperor's state fall into the wagging tongues of the gossipers," he points out, squeezing Mena's hand.
The Mogur's gaze flows over the Duchess draught with idle indifference. He smooths the silver wand along his thigh.
Aileana just stares at Raziel now, her mouth dropping open a bit before she snaps her jaw shut. She shifts in her chair for a moment before groaning, "I'm doing it again. I so entirely hate it when I prove him right. Ugh!"
Mena nods slowly to Raziel. "If it goes on for long, then the truth will come out. He is a very public figure," she murmurs to the mage, then turns her attention to the arriving Duchess. The incline of her head is a slow one. "Do come in, Your Grace. You know now that we have much to discuss."
Catelyn Claremont listens to the commentary for several moments. Her gaze is stoic. Her time at this position has given her the ability to maintain a gentle neutrality in the face of news which often seems unsettling. It happens when you're Duchess for almost 15 years. Her voice, simple and soft, "It would seem so, Your Majesty.." is the only offering of words as Catelyn advances to the center, her gaze shifting towards the assembled personages slowly.
Raziel murmurs, almost absently, "Your Majesty - if it goes on for - long," he surmises, quietly, "There are ways to assure the people, publically. Though, they would require permission, and consent." The Mage will leave it up to the others in the room to deem their own understanding from this. And, having said his part, he waxes quiet, waiting for the rest of the news.
The Mogur Imperius slants a look at Raziel. His lips lift subtly.
Mena gives another nod to Raziel before she gives all of her attention to Catelyn. "I will tell you as I have told the others," she starts before drawing in a slow breath. "Our tower was attacked by a demon this evening. My husband did not come through it hale. He remains in an unconscious state, all of his strength maintaining the gate, which does remain stable. We are unsure how long he will remain in this state. However, until he awakens, this Empire needs leadership. I am the Empress, and I intend to rule as such. I cannot do so without the support of Draught."
Aileana watches the other Duchess with lifted brows and almost curiosity to her reaction of the news. She just takes a deep breath and remains silent.
Catelyn levies her gaze first at Mogur, then at Raziel. Hm. Her lips press together before turning towards Aileana and then finally Mena. Catelyn's eyes reflect her thoughts, though it's brief and then veiled again. There's shock, and concern, and then finally resolve, but those emotions are vanished as fast as they rose. "The Baron is here...?" Catelyn's question remains unfinished.
Raziel does not, for his part, answer Catelyn. It is not his part, perhaps, to impart the news to her. Instead, his eyes shift to consider her for a moment, then to Mena.
"It was the wish of my husband that Raziel Devonshire be betrothed to the Lady Meredith and sit upon the council as Duke Regent until Lazarus' heir comes of age and is ready to take up the ducal seat," Mena states, her calm and serious exterior holding, though the nerves and a myriad of other emotions flash through her green eyes. "And so it will be. The council came up with no other solution, and Lady Larriane has already stepped down as Marchioness. He stands here not as a Baron any longer."
"The Council was afforded two weeks. It's not been such." Catelyn points out quietly.
The Mogur Imperious looks off at a far wall. His gaze is distant, and the agitation of wand to thigh continues.
"The council was given the two weeks before the Emperor was incapacitated," Mena states in return. "These are and will be difficult times, Your Grace. This Empire needs strong leadership. I plan to see that it has it, and quickly. It is my wish that Draught stand with me. I understand that time may be needed to consider such. But time is not something we have in spades."
Raziel remains quiet, still. Instead, however, his gaze returns thoughtfully to Catelyn. Speculative, of her words. The hands behind his back unlink, and slip to his side, brushing against his breeches. Despite his curiousity, there is little other than conviction, and confidence in his expression.
Aileana looks to Catelyn, her lips pressing together for a moment as her brows dip down a bit in thought as she looks over to Raziel and then back to the wand tapping Mogur. As a brief precaution, she looks over her shoulder to make sure zombies aren't arriving to serve tea.
Catelyn's gaze does not include Raziel. Duke Regent or not, Catelyn's done this job since Rourke was barely out of diapers. Her voice remains ever so soft, and warm, even if she makes comments that disagree. "You begin a slippery slope, Empress. Your husband and I were friends. I understood many of his choices, and respected them even if I disagreed. I don't appreciate individuals who usurp their rightful leige to be rewarded for doing such." And at this, Catelyn turns her gaze to Raziel and stares at him. "However, it is as you state, your choice in doing such. Try not to forget to include an announcement to us in your decisions. Things get hectic when the Dukes and Duchesses aren't made aware of things."
The Mogur's brow furrows and he whispers something softly to the Empress. He steps back and bows to the Empress. "The support of the High Council is yours, Empress," he enunciates. The ducal figures are given their entitled nod, and he depart.
Yes, Aileana totally notices that the word usurp comes out and the Mogur tucks tail and runs! She just shakes her head a bit and then looks back to Catelyn, her lips staying pressed together for a moment.
Raziel offers, quietly, "Perhaps, Duchess, you will not understand such; perhaps, you cannot - though, it be from cultural difference, rather than lack of keenness of mind or intellect." He pauses, considering her, "The Isle of Mists was becoming stagnant. Many of which reasons were fostered from uneasy faith in it's leadership, despite the gentle and good heart of he who stood behind it. I bore, nor do I bear such leige's of the past ill. What I do bear is strength of conviction, for the best for my people, for the Empire. And one who has not the faith or trust of his people - you know as well as I the results of this." A nod, then, to the Mogur. He voices, quieter, "What I sought, Your Grace was not possible, if other minds were not of similar thought." Not, mind you, that he will state which minds were. "Still. As I said. I did what I did for love, for conviction of heart for my Isle. For the Empire. And I will do nothing to weaken it, Your Grace. Least of all, cause offense amongst those whose fate the Empire rests upon. Your Isle, as much as mine, Duchess. And of Green Fields. And of Guardian. Dislike me if you will, such I can tolerate. But I have faith that your duty and oaths of fealty will not blind you to such. Nor will they me," he assures her.
"You respect my husband's decisions," Mena echoes, her gaze intent upon Catelyn alone. "Then you should respect that he wished the Duke Regent's rise to his position kept within the council. I would expect that decision to be upheld, Your Grace. The Emperor does not want the public to put the stigma of usurper upon him. The Emperor supported Raziel, and I shall support him in his stead. If you call yourself a.... friend of my husband, and I do ask that you not refer to him in the past tense, you will continue to respect his decisions. This is not a decision that I have made. It is one I merely carry out." To Mogur, she inclines her head slowly, glancing at the man briefly.
With his last glance to the room once he reaches the door, the Mogur favors Aileana with a look of insouciant disdain. He smiles blithely to her to display his perfect teeth on his way out.
Cate looks at Raziel a moment. She wasn't speaking to him, so she pauses for several moments, seemingly to ignore anything he said, though she does give a pause another moment as if in thought. "I believe you and I should speak another time, when I am not addressing the Empress." and then she turns back to Mena. "I state such because it is true. I've not stated that I will oppose it, nor have I stated that I will make it public his actions. I've merely requested that when you do decide to do things, that you try to make sure the rest of the Council knows. Take that request as you will, Empress, I mean no disrespect by it." Catelyn says simply. "Green Fields, Mists, and Guardian have a sole leader. Draught has been led by Duke and Duchess for 15 years. You will understand that I cannot give you the support of my Isle, without conferring with my husband?"
Aileana just watches as Mogur as he's leaving, her nose wrinkling in complete totally utterly and inescapably noticeable disdain for the man. For a moment, she may have lost the thread of conversation taking place...maybe.
"That is what I am doing, Your Grace," Mena says, her eyebrows lifting. "Is letting the council know. The knights to find the members of council were dispatched at the same time. I have been explaining just as people arrive. There is no slight meant. I do hope you forgive me, it has been a...," she stops here, glancing at one of the windows for a long moment, breathing slowly. "It has been a very trying day. And of course," she says, looking back to the elder Duchess. "I do understand that you need to speak with the Duke. I very much wish the support of you both."
Raziel appears to take little affront to the coldness, percieved or impercieved, implied or accidental. Instead, he merely inclines his head to Catelyn, waxing quiet as the two ladies speak, his eyes shifting between said speakers.
Aileana looks back to Catelyn for a moment, apparently just in a sour mood in general, but that happens when the way of life as she knows it was threatened today. She takes a deep breath then, "I would prefer, Your Grace, if you wouldn't point out my lack of a husband at my side. Our year ruling together was a very good one."
One of the Empress' hands lifts to rub slowly over her face at Aileana's statement.
Catelyn draws a breath. Her brows knit as she murmurs, "It was not intended as an offense, Your Grace. It was intended as an explanation as to why I cannot merely cast the support of Draught in this Audience Chamber, personal feelings aside." Catelyn address Ana slowly, "And I apologize if you took it as one." Maybe it's just raw feelings all around! Catelyn doesn't look pleased to have to defend her statements to two others so she turns back to Mena and finishes, "Empress, I understand how difficult this must be for you. I am aware of how it feels to see someone through a difficult situation. You need no forgiveness, and if you took my words as insult, I meant them not. Perhaps all words this evening are a little raw-edged, regardless, you shall have the answer as soon as I can speak with my husband. In the meantime, nothing will be said from my lips and of that you have my word."
Raziel's said his peace, for his part. And thusly - remains quiet. As this seems to be more between the others, than him, now.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace. I'm a little worried about the state of the Keeper, and that has me...on edge." Aileana offers as she takes a deep breath and goes back to sitting still and likely dreaming of ale.
"Thank you, Your Grace," Mena murmurs toward Catelyn with a bit of emotion edging her otherwise calm features. "You have always shown me kindness, and I do not forget such. I really do believe that with Providence to guide us that we can keep this Empire strong while the Emperor recuperates. I will be a strong Empress for the people in this time of need. I will continue to follow my husband's dreams of opening Gateway to the outside world, welcoming ambassadors to its shores. It is my sincere hope that I have the support and assistance of the council as I do so. I will need it."
Raziel inclines his head to the Empress, a silent indication that he's of the mind for such approval. Still, three emotional females in the room, of various ages. He won't say more than he has to.
Don't forget that two of them are pregnant!
And two pregnant ones! Cate is not in the mood for another outburst from a busybody usurper who talks when he's not addressed! Fresh blood to the Council or not! Catelyn nods to Aileana, "No need to apologize, Your Grace..." and then to Mena, "You've but to call on me if it's personal, Empress. R-..His Majesty would expect that much of me, and you can do the same. This, however, is business, and I mean no offense when I ask for my leave so I may go and prepare to discuss with His Grace."
Mena frames a faint smile to Catelyn, though understandably, the expression does not reach her eyes. "Of course, Your Grace. My best to you and your family. I'm sure we shall speak again soon."
Aileana just smiles to the Duchess Draught, "Have a good evening, Your Grace. You look splendid pregnant, by the way."
The pregnant Duchess Draught gives a small curtsey, "Good night, Empress." Catelyn mentions, "Your Grace.." a nod to Aileana, and then to Raziel. A brow lifts, "..Duke Regent. Good night to you as well." A pause, and then she actually gives a small blush, "Thank you, Your Grace. As do you.. " and then she turns to head towards the door.
Raziel inclines his head to Catelyn, musing quietly, "Your Grace." He bows, slightly,t o her as she leaves. His gaze then turns to the other two, who remain.
"Good night, Your Grace," Mena murmurs as Duchess Draught takes her leave.
Mena blows out a breath as Catelyn leaves, stepping over just enough to set herself bonelessly within a chair. Her hands scrub over her face for a moment before taking one of those cleansing breaths. "I don't think that went very well. Ahh, well. Can't win them all, I suspect." She looks up at Raziel, then. "I'd ask that you not make any announcements of your new position until it is announced publicly. That would assist me a great deal. I wish things to go forward as smoothly as possible."
Raziel observes, "It would be ill-advised to do so, Your Grace, before Draught has given their answer." A pause, "Still." He looks to the Empress, "I am grateful for the faith Your Majesty, and His Majesty lay upon me. And I will do the best of my ability to honor that faith, and uphold it." He smiles, then, to Mena. A sincere smile. It is then turned, upon Alieana. "I understand your uneasiness at this, Your Grace. But. You understand, deeply, the import for leadership to be an example. Someone for your people to find faith, and trust within. Mists - did not have that leadership. And I could not have lived with myself, if I let it lessen, for my own inaction. I hope," he continues, "You sincerely believe me, when I say that."
"I don't know if she understood me," Mena says. "I wasn't asking her support in the decision to make you Regent," she explains. "I was asking for Draught's support as me in the role of political leader of this Empire. The decision to make you Regent had already been made by the Emperor."
"Well, if you want to bring up /that/ topic, I am probably more in line with Her Grace of Draught. By allowing someone to steal a position, we put all of our positions in danger." Aileana gives a small shrug to that, "I understand where your heart was, but it can make for difficulty for all in the long run...if that knowledge of your plans get out."
Raziel notes, "Do you also realize, Your Grace, such would have been unacheivable, without support of the Council of the High Mages? And others? I understood, well, the risks I took to my personal well being. The odds, I estimated, as a matter of fact, were quite against me. This is, in part, why I sought your approval for the bid." He exhales, then nods, "But, it is done. And, I agree that it will be recieved more aptly if it is done thus. I can only hope that you will not hold such against me, or my Isle. And that perhaps we can - come to an amiable understanding amongst ourselves, for the greater good of both our Isles."
"But you didn't seek my approval at all. You sent in someone else to feel me out." Aileana's brows lift a bit in surprise now, "I wish you /would/ have sought me out."
Mena just sits quietly for the moment, staring at the fire in the hearth.
Raziel admits, "Perhaps," he agrees, "I should have. I am hardly infallible. Yet, I knew you little. And your mind less. I had no desire to expose myself to a party where such conversations would be ill recieved." He bows, low. "I erred, in that, Your Grace. And all I may do in compensation, and forgiveness, is assure you I will not hesitate so in the future."
Aileana nods once, "Well, I would just prefer that you don't make it known that you were actively working to replace your Duke. That's all I would ask."
"We would all prefer such," Mena says, once more her attention on the conversation.
Raziel nods, once. "It shall not be so," he conceeds, firm. A bow, to the Empress, but a promise in the words spoken.
Mena inclines her head slowly. "Thank you," she says to Raziel. "I shall not be long in making the announcement of your betrothal and position. I do need to speak with Duchess Asha first, however. And hear back from the Duke of Draught, of course. Not that he will stop this from happening. I will do as the Emperor wishes in this."
Aileana just nods to that, "Then I do hope you can recover some of what Duke Lazarus has lost for your Isle." She does rise then, "I hope you'll forgive me, but I really must rest, Your Majesty."
"Thank you, Your Grace," Mena says sincerely to Aileana. "From the bottom of my heart, thank you."
"Patience," says Raziel in return to the Empress, "Is a virtue a mage may learn early in life, Your Majesty. I believe I can wait until you feel the time is right." A smile, honest, to Aileana. "I have strong Barons; despite the unfortunate loss of the Baroness, Your Grace. It shall take effort. But, there is little that is unaccomplishable, when desire and passion fill the hearts of man." He adds, after Mena, "You have my thanks, as well, Your Grace. Be well."
Mena pushes up to her feet slowly. "I believe that I need to spend some time with my children," she says, inclining her head to both. "Thank you for attending so quickly. And for your support. I have a feeling I will need it very much."
Aileana dips into a curtsey and then starts to leave the tower to sleep!
Raziel asks, quietly, "Is there ought you wish to say to me in private, Your Majesty, before I leave you to your children?" He watches you, faint concern now, showing.
Mena just looks limp right now, after the rest have gone. "I wish to say that I am very glad to have had the opportunity to know you better. It has given me confidence in the decision to make you Regent. I know you will be good for Mists. And I am... very glad for your support. Two members of council is almost a majority."
Raziel takes your hand, if allowed to do so. Bowing, he kisses it, regally. "And I," he admits, "Am glad for the opportunity to know you, Empress. For it gives me faith. Appreciation, more, for His Majesty than I ever had. Faith, in -you-. For I have seen, with keen eyes, you are much more clever of mind, and strength of heart than the more simple and supporting face you present. The Keeper shall hold the barrier. And you shall hold the Empire." There is the same conviction in his tone of when he spoke, back - back there. In the city of the damned. "And whatever you need of Mists; of me, Empress. You only need ask." A smile, then. Small, but sincere. Light. Unfettered. "Rest, now. Enjoy your children. We will have time enough for more speech later. It is - important, that you be with them now."
Mena does smile, but it is faint. "We shall not fall," she agrees, nodding. "Good evening, Your Grace. Until the next time we speak."
