Thread: An Empire in 100 Nights (Rosewood x LeatrixSage)

The snow crunched under the heavy boots of both him and his personal guard as they headed towards the hall. The guards were alert, as always, they had been trained for years on end for the specific purpose of protecting the Emperor from harm and they were devoted to that task, expecting attacks and threats at all times. He wrapped his furred cloak tighter around him and shuddered, this weather did not agree with him. Though he wouldn't be quick to say it, he would be glad when they could leave this frigid place and move on to somewhere warmer and more hospitable. Luckily the walk to the hall wasn't far and soon he found himself greeted by a crowd that he had not expected. He had expected angry glares and hateful looks from peasants working in the field, yet what he found was a crowd staring at him with a mixture of fearful curiousity and restrained resentment. As he walked past them, he made sure to nod to as many of them as possible, with a polite smile on his lips. Even to those who glared with the utmost contempt he nodded politely and respectfully. They were his subjects now and they were under his protection now. Even those who didn't want it and wouldn't be grateful to him for it. Ravenswrath was a fine place and he genuinely admired it's construction, which was simple but practical and with a certain stout beauty to it. The road he followed led to the heart of the city and to the enormous pyre that had been built there. This was clearly a ritual or ceremony of some sort, judging by the solemn looks and organized positions everyone had. He approached respectfully and stood off to the side, head slightly bowed out of respect. But his eyes followed everything that happened and soon caught the exchange between the nobleman and the queen. He wasn't close enough to catch the full exchange but he could at least hear the tones in their voice. The queen was firm and defiant and the man difficult and mocking. He watched closely and noticed when it turned into a scuffle. His guards became alert, hands tightening on their weapons and their muscles almost visibly tensing as they readied themselves for the possibility of conflict. As the queen and the baron struggled with one another, the Emperor weighed his options. Stepping in could resolve the situation in the queen's favor, but it would no doubt weaken her position and for now they would need her. Yet not stepping in could result in the queen losing to this man, who was certainly no weakling. And he really didn't want to lose this queen. Yet ultimately he chose merely to wait and watch and have faith in the queen, who had certainly proven to him she was worthy of that trust. And she did not disappoint him. First she showed skill in denying him his weapon and then cunning in stealing his and finally, brutality . He felt a warmth stirring in his loans as she brutally stabbed the man, again and again, and the blood splattering on her clothes, hands and face sent his own blood rushing through his veins. So she can kill and has killed before.... he thought to himself. The first kill wasn't usually so...resolved. It was messy, frantic and sloppy, which this most certainly wasn't. She seemed distraught yet not surprised or shocked or horrified, this had been expected. So there was internal strife to capitalize on then, her position wasn't quite as stable as she made it look, though it certainly didn't seem to be in much danger if this was how they were attempting to get rid of her. His musings were dashed aside as she approached him and held out the torch for him. He nodded in response to her words and reached out with one hand to grasp the torch, resting the other on her hand briefly. Thank you, he said respectfully before taking the torch from her hands and approaching the pyre. He thought of saying a few words, either before or after lighting the pyre but he felt that would be inappropriate and disrespectful. Thus, without further adue, he approached the pyre and held the torch to it. For a few seconds nothing happened and he grew concerned he was making a mistake until he saw it had simply taken the fire a while to get started and grow separate from the torch. The fire gradually spread as he turned to Solveig and held out the torch for her to take as they watched the flames consume the pyre together. He said nothing as they stood there together, letting her decide if words were appropriate and neccesary. Here he was much on her playing field and at her mercy and he waited patiently for the next move in this intricate dance of theirs.