Althaea

Orfea knew she was going to be in a large amount of trouble for the way she had acted, but they didn't understand. Of course she was going to miss her only friend!
Deciding that she'd answer any questions once they'd been asked,she turned her attention back to her parents.
"It's trouble that shall come to me, my actions were all but acceptable. Sorry I am, Mother. I let the old heart out whilst I should have been on duty... Even if the day is one for my own." She stated shamefully, bowing her head.
She'd noticed the Magistrate approach Calvin and knew he'd tell. Why wouldn't he? She respected his duty and wouldn't get in the way. However, she was still curious as to how the Magistrate would react and watched closely.
Her mother ,and father, were speaking in the background - but she wasn't interested. She wanted to know, and she was determined to find out.

When the time came for the Sacrifice to be performed, Melody found herself halting her flute playing and like everyone else, she walked into the courtyard when the 'deed' was to take place. Melody dreaded these events, but it never appeared on her face. She acted pretty much like everyone else. This time though something was different and Melody wondered is something else was to happen? Her instincts were on high alert. She wasn't far from three men and overheard a few words. One she recognized immediately as Sven Khagal, whom saw with a number of orphans. She didn't bother looking in the direction of where it was coming from, but minutes later, she heard movement and figured Sven and the others leave. When Melody moved here some years ago, she made sure to find out as much as she could about as many people as possible. Performing in public places like taverns and on streets helped her. To most, it seemed like Melody was curious many things, but it was more to it than that. In 7 years, she managed to find her place in this society, but knew that was going to change someday. After all, change was coming and it was her job 'help it' along. For now though she would enjoy herself and blend in as much as possible. As she looked on though she felt pity for both the victim and the one called forth to kill him.

Everything had gone wrong, Calor noticed. He stood there as the God-Queen took her leave behind him, his head shaking slowly as the knights and those few who dared opposed the God-Queen's rule seemed to verbally duel back and forth, and as the figure known as Parem' Zel rushed through to try and save the woman who had refused to carry out the sacrifice.

"Are these people serious?" He asked, a brow raised as he heard them yell in the crowd. Words of unfairness, cruelty, of being unjust and tyrannical?

"SILENCE! I DEMAND SILENCE!" His voice roared out over the crowd; the silent blade that protected their 'beloved' Queen shocking most of them into silence.

"Cruelty? Witch? Tyrannical? Have you not looked at yourself, you disgusting hypocrites? I have walked as one of you, drank in your taverns, made friends and enemies of both the poorest and most comfortable of you. Let me tell you this, peasants: all of you are below the God-Queen, guilty of all things you accuse her of being."

He began to walk back and forth, his pacing speeding as he kept his head on the thousands below him.

"You people drink, you fornicate, you sit in basements and exchange coin as dogs tear each other asunder and cheer for more as men and slaves use all manner of lethal weaponry to slaughter each other in rings of combat. You laugh as men beat each other to death, as they slice and stab and butcher. You crave war and violence, you ignore those lesser than you in desperate need of help and charity and you seek nothing but to further your own wealth and power and are jealous of my beloved Queen because by right of divinity, she has it.

"Rule under her banner is far more preferable to the chaos you cretins yourselves would cause if you did not have her to follow. And do these sacrifices not resemble the executions many of you go to watch regularly? Where you shout, cheer and insult the criminals about to have their lives taken away? Do you not throw turds and rotten fruit and dishonour them with every movement, even if guilty only of stealing from a market stall, or wrongly accused in the first place? Why are these sacrifices, why are the things my God-Queen demands so much more despicable than what you yourselves do?"

"Our God-Queen is Queen by divine right. She will guide us to be a better people, she works tirelessly to love us all and rid us of the sins inherit in our kind, yet you do nothing but resist her and scream of foulness. By order of I, Calor Elohan, chosen husband of God-Queen Sarene Iracot, I order all of you to bow, re-pledge your allegiance to her and her state and immediately stop all thoughts of treason. If you do not, then you will no longer be welcome in this country and I hereby sentence you to be exiled and cast beyond our borders; your lands, possessions and titles stripped away from you, by force if our Queen's Knights deem it necessary! Those who do not comply with either of these orders will be restrained and taken for future sacrifices."

Oh, he wasn't sure his Queen would like his speech, but it was said and done and he had nothing else to do but turn and follow her back into her palace.

Ianthe was not at all surprised with the silver Knight's brusque manner. He knew her type: driven by a indefatigable sense of duty and obligation, loyal almost to a fault, and, perhaps, a bit guarded. Not the best, necessarily, at mingling at a function such as this. Perhaps she felt it superfluous, needless; why drink the night away when there was critical work to be attended to? Of course, the world needs people like this. But some people, from time to time, need an opportunity to unwind, to enjoy themselves, whether it be by losing themselves in drink or passing the night in the chambers of a breathless young serving wench. Though Ianthe, and, he assumed, the silver Knight, preferred neither. In this regard, Ianthe thought, we are doubtless alike.

Ianthe was, however, not one to pass such quick judgments. He met her stony glare with a broad smile, "Ah, a blonde you say? I've seen more than a few, though none, as far as I know, had the look of a Knight about them. Doubtless she is hereabouts, since this is, after all, a celebration for the most esteemed Knights of our God-Queen." He lifted his cup as if in toast, but did not drink. He continued, "I know that you must presently be occupied with more important affairs, as befits one of your station, but...might I trouble you to share my company for a moment? Your compatriots will no doubt find your blonde heartily enjoying her evening, perhaps not very willing to be disturbed. And, I must confess, I am rather lonely. I have only recently come to the Merchant Quarter--I am a jeweler by trade, and dabble in some commodities as well: pelts, teak and sandalwood, damasks, fine porcelains, the like --and I'm afraid that I've not yet made a single friend. You know how "these" people can be, I'm sure...Please. I assure you I'm much more accommodating than the more...what's the word? Lascivious party goers that you are liable to encounter." With a raised eyebrow, Ianthe gestured to a bear of a man bouncing a caramel haired serving girl on his knee, one hand eagerly exploring the hidden regions beneath her skirts.