[P] to never do anything by half-measures;

[Seraphina]

S E R A P H I N A

in the absence of everything
ABSTAIN FROM FEAR

--

Seraphina’s reply came somewhat stiff, but nonetheless respectful – Maxence had put forth more effort than she’d seen from authority in her life to genuinely improve the conditions of the Solterrans, and she wouldn’t even consider taking that from him. “I know the work you have been doing to change Solterra; your efforts are commendable. I’ve never seen so much green in the Court.” She was being honest, but, then, Seraphina rarely saw the need to lie. On the subject of the advisors, she continued coolly, the intonation of her low, throaty voice not changing in the slightest as she skimmed through her next series of comments. “I would hope they’ve been preoccupied, though they may somehow be under the illusion that their position exempts them from the efforts of day-to-day life. In any case, if you believe we’ve dealt with our immediate concerns, perhaps we’ll have the time and resources to pursue whatever suggestions they might have.” It was a strange notion, to consider more than survival, but Seraphina had attempted to throw herself wholeheartedly into her new duties; she had discovered that it took more than efficiency to keep a nation satisfied.

She nodded briskly as he approved her plans to contact Dusk for a celebration. Seraphina would be remiss to admit it, but she felt herself second-guessing her own suggestion as soon as it was out of her mouth, if only because she hadn’t the slightest idea how to plan a celebration. That would primarily be Bexley’s work, she imagined, which meant that she’d likely have to speak to not only Florentine the Champion as well. Though both girls were about Seraphina’s age, by her own approximation, she couldn’t understand them at all. If it depressed her to be so distant from her fellows, to be so horribly alone, she was unwilling to believe it. She told herself that it was simply a working relationship – she didn’t need to.

His remarks on the Night Court might have brought a ghost of a smile to Seraphina’s lips, were she a more emotional creature; as they were, she remained cold, but noted the way his face fell, as if in defeat. “Denocte is crafty – they always have been. They are prone to work in the shadows rather than the light.” For all their talk of honor, Seraphina saw nothing particularly praiseworthy in their use of espionage to achieve their goals, though she cared nothing for the concept to begin with. Solterra had always had the stronger force, but there was a reason why they had remained in deadlock until Zolin’s death; whether that could truly be chalked up to Denocte’s prowess rather than the Sovereign’s despotic nature and ruthlessness was something of a toss-up, but she knew better than to underestimate their enemy just because they had less bodies to throw at Solterra.

The greatest dangers, after all, most often came from within.

Her tone was somewhat reluctant as she continued, as her next point was largely a matter of speculation. “The fact that they are aware of Rostislav’s presence here makes me inclined to believe that either our own have far looser lips than I’d like to believe, particularly given how few have seen him, or that Denocte has eyes in our midst. They are not so militant as we are, but they are a people of a great many talents, and that is precisely why they are dangerous.” She’d heard stories from Denocte, and she’d spent more time in conflict with its people than she’d care to admit – beautiful as their lands might be, they still made her stomach twist from the memories. If Solterra’s warriors were a polished, restrained regiment, Denocte’s were wildlings, volatile and spastic. She hadn’t the time to waste on romanticizing their respective armies, however. “I would suggest we be particularly secretive with our sensitive information, at least until we can discern whether or not Reichenbach has eyes among us.” Seraphina wouldn’t want the Solterrans to think that they were mistrusted, of course, but if her suspicions held any water…

His response to her prodding was something of a surprise to Seraphina – she hadn’t expected him to initiate conversation with the Night Court so quickly, much less to do it himself. Then again, Maxence struck her as a blunt man, not particularly fond of the constant deference and pomp of politics. (She could only hope that Reichenbach, for his lavish celebrations and perhaps more sensitive nature, felt the same.) Seraphina could not discern if Maxence’s intention to speak to Denocte’s Sovereign set her mind at ease or was a cause for further concern; they were both hot-headed and temperamental, and she was not sure that either would think rationally under such tense circumstances. “Careful with that one – he’ll be irrational. Don’t let him provoke you. How do you intend to proceed?” If he was set on speaking to Reichenbach directly, then the least Seraphina could do was attempt to offer what help she could in preparation.

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@Maxence - <3