T
he disorder continued to mount, and yet he remained strong. They come at him with teeth bared and insults dipped in venom. But it is a lack luster venom, at that, it barely nicks the surface of his otherwise ethereal form. The Emissary has endured far worser insults over dinner in his homeland, to be sure, than all the scathing remarks hurled his way. If they intended to see him flinch and crumble, they were going to find no satisfaction from the Kirin, no pound of flesh sinisterly carved from his porcelain hide.
They would go to bed hungry, starved and still oh so very mad, and he would retire to his chambers. Wrapped in his silks, held in the embrace of someone he loved.
Acton stepped forward and Isorath can only offer him a sugar sweet smile, as he takes his turn to try and aim a proverbial arrow, and it is deflected by an arrogant flick of those long white lashes, the shift of a hidden hoof beneath the silk velvet of his cloak to rest upon it's sharpened point. An elegant Courtesan humoring a rather rambucious and outspoken admirer, with naught to offer but words and thinly strung trinkets. Penniless, but quaint. The boy thought himself a dancer of dragons, some bastard-born slayer, that was to be sure. The childish threat provoked a silvery brow to raise and the barely hint of teeth to show behind those blush colored lips.
Ironic it is, that all of a sudden there is a handful of capable, knowledgeable diplomats and leaders in a crowd. Which is made up with vagabonds, thieves and crooks more interested in furthering their own agenda, and is part of the problem they are now facing. So eager are they now to find their voices and speak. Where were they a handful of days ago? Where were they when he flew to Solterra to have words with the Warrior Queen, Seraphina? To try and stem the tide of negativity and distrust between the two nations.
Where were the voices of concern, fear and diplomacy then? Where were these concerned citizens seeking their Regime out and voicing their concerns. Offering their suddenly acquired knowledge and insight into the finer points of ruling a Kingdom.
Raum followed similarly, and so did Rostislav. Somewhere a Dragon roared in the distance, and it's song of ice and fire brought comfort to his ivory bones. Dragon's do not bend their necks to the undeserving, and so he will not bend now.
The drunkard is humored at best, as he stirred the earth and his dog barked at his side. His words too, try and strike deep, and again they find themselves batted off with another flick of lashes. Rostislav is his own enemy, in this fight, if he had been more involved, especially given his position as Warden — Isorath would treat him with the respect he had bequeathed Lyra. He forfeited his right to speak and spit with the absentee role he had adopted for his prestigeous position.
Fortunately, his King of Smoke and Stars comes, and Isorath turned his lilac orbs to him. The faintest flicker of affection streaked across his face for the first time that night, like a star burning up as it hurdled towards the earth. Reichenbach spoke and made to placate the crowd with truths and promises. The Gates would open again, but Isorath himself is not placated by the words alone, even if he is relieved to see the King finally make an appearance.
"It is good to see that we have capable diplomats unfolding in front of us, so eager to say their piece upon the matter now that the time for deliberation is closed to them." Isorath finally sighed, but it is one filled with bitter humor. "I would of enjoyed to see you all reach out to us, any of us, prior to this night with these concerns. Our predicament is hardly scandelous news now brought to the surface to titter and gasp about. How to address them in a way that will not harm delicate sensibilities, and freedoms. Considering that is what I have been doing, seeing those among you now — stand accused of attempted murder of Bexley Briar, and are hereby exiled from Solterra under threat of death. Especially when the Court of Law that they have broken, demands that which is done be done unto them. Justice which is still to be settled through the proper channels." His gaze then flicked leisurely back to Rostislav.
"Your duty is not to our army, you are not our Champion of Battle." A quizzical brow rose, did the Warden not know his own duties? there is a faint line of a headache beginning to wrap around his delicately shaped head, tied neatly at the center of his forehead. "You are the Warden of Denocte. You are our enforcer, you make sure the laws are abided by and deliver our justice if they are broken. You have been absent in these roles." He paused, disappointment coloring his scaled face but for a moment. He cleared his throat and his body straightened, drawing himself to his full height as he glittered and glimmered in the fire's light. A dragon basking in a role he has been bred for.
"The Gates will remain closed, that is the will of the Regime." Isorath's gaze swept out across them again, piercing and unmoved. He is not here to be beloved of the people, to have them coo over him and worship the ground he walks on. To excuse the coldness in his veins or the arrogant tilt of his head, he has grown a thick skin in regards to that. He is here to ensure that the people are safe, and taken care of, to forge alliances and maintain them and deal with those that would jeprodize that. "Until we have addressed the issues which pertain to the greviences this Court has caused, and to ensure that there are no more attempted murders, assaults and roaming with malicious intent. Then, they will be opened by the will of the Sovereign. I look forward to the celebration that will no doubt accompany it." With that, the kirin turned toward Reichenbach and Aislinn both. "Unless there is more you wish to say, then I'm more than content to adjurn the meeting here. If there are any more concerns, you are more than welcome to seek us out. Or defer to our most capable Champion of Community." He has nothing left he has to say, the night has been a rather interesting one to say the least, and he's in need of a questionably large glass of wine.
The Prince moved, with all the elegance and serenity of a star twinkling in the night, into the depths of the Night Palace. Smoke across starlit waters, silk across water. The roll of heated breath against flesh. However, as he went, he leaned in close to Reichenbach his voice lowered to an octave that only they could hear. "Thank you, Amatus."
NOTES; Isorath has left the meeting! He will not be responding to anymore comments and is no longer in the vicinity.
@Reichenbach @Aislinn @Lavinia @Lyra @Raum @Acton @Jezanna @Eidolon @Rhoswen @Isra @Rostislav
