[color=#ff851b]“No, what coin he has will go to funding the education of our youth and his assets seized and distributed accordingly. As is within the confines of the Law.”[/color] Unless he had a will, but so far Malachai’s investigation had resulted in nothing of note, nor much worth. Ignoring the dispersing sheep from around them, the Chancellor appraised his old student and colleague.
[color=#ff851b]“Pity. I do miss the old days, battle robes make for more comfortable attire than stuffy parties, but I will hold you to the alternative.”[/color] Anything to make this appearance as short as possible. His role was only to step out when needed, to apply pressure and ensure it was understood by all, that rules of Law protected them and no-one was beyond charge. Protect the status-quo.
Valentius had denied his son’s existence until his final few years of life, suddenly his legacy had meant something now that he was dying slowly. The mask had been inherited, worn since his days as a glorified babysitter and guardsman to the Archon Demetrius. At least the ‘Eye’s’ had proven interesting and challenging in ways he hadn’t scratched since his war-torn days.
With less wagging tongues around, Mal’s grin dropped back to a line of indifference, eyes rolling as she mentioned her kin. [color=#ff851b]“I do wish you would take up my offer. One day I may take it upon myself. I am someone's favourite after all, I could easily be pardoned.”[/color] They’d have to time Deme’s mood perfectly, but the spy was confident, his position was more than comfortable, his contingencies put in place should things turn.
[color=#ff851b]“Pity. I do miss the old days, battle robes make for more comfortable attire than stuffy parties, but I will hold you to the alternative.”[/color] Anything to make this appearance as short as possible. His role was only to step out when needed, to apply pressure and ensure it was understood by all, that rules of Law protected them and no-one was beyond charge. Protect the status-quo.
Valentius had denied his son’s existence until his final few years of life, suddenly his legacy had meant something now that he was dying slowly. The mask had been inherited, worn since his days as a glorified babysitter and guardsman to the Archon Demetrius. At least the ‘Eye’s’ had proven interesting and challenging in ways he hadn’t scratched since his war-torn days.
With less wagging tongues around, Mal’s grin dropped back to a line of indifference, eyes rolling as she mentioned her kin. [color=#ff851b]“I do wish you would take up my offer. One day I may take it upon myself. I am someone's favourite after all, I could easily be pardoned.”[/color] They’d have to time Deme’s mood perfectly, but the spy was confident, his position was more than comfortable, his contingencies put in place should things turn.
04-04-2024, 06:03 PM
