Call on Madeleine

You find Madeleine back in her tent, celebrating the successful deployment of her latest invention, if not the killing it had facilitated. She's drinking, not a glass of her kingdom's red spirit, as you might've expected, but a typical Beathan ale.

"Edward! Kara!" The Dauphine perks up as she regards you both. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“First of all Madeleine, I want to thank you.” Kara says, stepping forward. “That concoction you devised... I've never seen anythin' like it. We would've lost good people in a more prolonged **** on the gate. You saved lives today.”

The look of Madeleine's face as she drinks in Kara's praise is ecstatic, almost rapturous. Painted lips curl into a pleased smile, displaying the princess' neat white teeth.

“Thank you, Kara!” Madeleine says. Reaching up, she puts her hands on the taller woman, smoothing down the furs worn over her armour. “You know, in Sinnabarrow, when thanking a woman of high placement, it's tradition to kiss her.”

“We're no' in Sinnabarrow, Maddie.” Kara reminds her. “Still, I won't turn such an obvious invitation down.”

Putting a hand around Madeleine's hip, Kara pulls her close, and kisses her. Not a dainty peck on the cheek, or a respectful supplication to the hand, but directly on the lips, with passion.

Madeleine's attendants, proper as ever, disregard the two princesses, as if two royals so entwined merited no more discussion than the latest spate of snowfall.

Not bound by propriety in any way whatsoever, you're free to be less coy. You watch them at it with interest, the display sparking something in your demonic blood. You needed to have both of them, again, together. Despite your travelling in close proximity to Madeleine, Kara had not taken her into your bed since that afternoon in Airgid Carran.

The two princesses part after a few tantalising moments, Madeleine pulls back, the red pigment on her lips ever so slightly smudged.

“Yes, well, I'd say that qualifies as sufficient gratitude.” Madeleine says, flustered, grinning as she regards Kara.

“We've something to show you. Thought you and your, er... man might be able to shed some light on it.” Kara continues.

“Benjy's not my man, Kara.” Madeleine smiles. “Hells, he's barely a man at all. I just keep him around because he's one of the only people in Sinnabarrow who isn't a complete idiot. But, what is it you have to show us?”

With that, Kara sets the box containing Hjordis' blue coral down on Madeleine's workbench.

“This is a magical artefact, isn't it?” Madeleine blanches. She grimaces, as if she can barely stand to look upon the coral.

“It's like nothin' I've seen before, so I'd say aye.” Kara comments.

“Where did you find this, Your Grace?” Ben Swain asks, approaching and regarding the coral with an inquisitive eye.

“On Hjordis' flagship.” Kara responds.

“Might I suggest asking the Jarl herself? I thought she was collaborating with you and your brother now?”

“To a limited extent, aye. Anythin' not strictly related to the war effort, an' she's tight lipped.”

“Drop it in the sea.” Madeleine suggests, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the sight of the thing. “I shouldn't have to tell you of all people this, but magic like this, like any kind, really, never did anyone any good.”

You're a little taken aback by Madeleine's sheer antipathy toward the object, until you hazily recall that one of her brothers had died of an injury, her father's court magicians powerless to prevent him slipping away.

“The giant kept this locked away on her ship. It's important, whatever it is.” Kara reasons.

“Would Her Grace permit me a closer look? I'll not pretend to have seen the like of this item before, but I have encountered magicks strange and uncommon on my travels, Deanian and otherwise.” Swain proposes. When Kara gives him a quick nod, the bard draws closer, examining the coral with one of his lady's magnifying glasses, avoiding touching it all the while. As Swain fixates on the coral, you cast an eye around Madeleine's tent.

The copper bathtub has been pushed into the corner. You feel a twinge of guilt as your last altercation with Madeleine, unbeknownst to Kara, repeats in your mind's eye. Elodie sits in the back of the tent, awaiting the snap of her lady's fingers.

Above her, pinned carefully to the canvas, is a piece of Deanian heraldry. You recognise it as the standard of one Jens Eight-Arm, a captain under Hjordis' command. The flag is a red octopus on a field purple. It crushes ships in it's tentacles.

“Interesting choice of décor.” you observe, nodding to the flag.

“Oh, that?” Madeleine smirks. “Well, there's nothing wrong with showing off the spoils of war, is there? Besides, it's rather fetching, I think. I've always had an affinity for octopi.”

“You shouldn't display their flags so proudly. These raider scum are nothing but butchers!” Kara protests.

“Kara, please. Regardless of any personal shortcomings, an evolved consciousness such my own can appreciate these northerners' good attributes. Take Hjordis for instance. Yes, she's a raider, yes she viciously brutalised me, but I'm mature enough to admit there's something attractive, alluring, even about her. In fact-”

“How can you say that?” Kara asks. “Even for a Deanian, Hjordis is a piece of work. She's shipped thousands of my people off to Spirits know where. She's a pure fookin' monster.”

“Be that as it may, that's... that's not fair.” Madeleine begins, struggling to find her words, the pitch of her voice increasing as she becomes defensively angry. "Besides, weren't you on about how I should respect her as a warrior not so long ago?"

"That's completely different! You-"

You decide to nip a potential falling out in the bud.

“Madeleine, you mentioned an affinity for octopi?” you deflect. “I, for one, would love to hear how you came to like such alien denizens of the sea.”

The Dauphine falters, but given the opportunity to converse on one of her favourite subjects, quickly redirects her energies.

“Have you ever read Vincent of Goldfield?” Madeleine asks, reaching for her ale. “His focus was primarily alchemy, but occasionally, he'd go into these wonderful digressions about the local wildlife. He had a couple of wonderful passages concerning octopi. Did you know, divers and some of the bolder naturalists have seen them using rudimentary tools? Can you imagine?! Beasts of the sea possessing that sort of intelligence.”

“It certainly puts them ahead of more than a few of my lords.” you say, eliciting a quick titter from Madeleine.

“Ooh, that's good!” the Dauphine smiles. “I'll have to remember that.”

“I must've read you those passages a hundred times.” Swain says with a fond smile of remembrance.

“Once, I was so enthused by hearing of them, I approached my father, asked him if I could adopt an octopus as my own personal sigil.” Madeleine recalls. “He didn't approve of that at all. Told me such things were hardly befitting of a proper Sinnabarrovian lady.”

“To the hells wi' him!” Kara chimes in, her earlier tension with Madeleine forgotten. “I say if you want tae be an octopus, you be an octopus!”

Madeleine smiles.

“How fares your father, by the way?” Kara asks. “I hope his health's improvin'.”

“Quite the opposite in fact.” Madeleine says. “I received a letter not long ago from the queen. He's ailing, and apparently my being here is only making him worse.”

“Headin' home wouldn't be the worst of ideas.” Kara suggests. “Not that we don't appreciate everythin' you've done for us, but things are only going tae get more dangerous from here on out. And besides, you don't travel on the seas, do you? Hard to get to Fresgoe Isles without a boat, hen.”

“Maybe you're right.” Madeleine relents. “I've done my part, and the Oro Elide can stick around, I'm sure. Sinnabarrow's less than official contribution to the coalition.”

“We'd appreciate that.” you intone carefully.

“An' most of all, we want you to be safe.” Kara adds, putting her hand over Madeleine's. “I think this soft southern coronation I'm tae have'll be a drab affair without Madeleine of Sinnabarrow to liven it up.”

“Consider the date saved!” Madeleine says, her spirits buoyed by your words.

“And Madeleine... if you ever want tae talk, about your father? I'm here for you. I know exactly what you're going through.”

“I find that a bit hard to believe.” Madeleine scoffs. “You wouldn't believe how ill my father is. He can barely talk!”

“Maddie, my da died a little over two moons ago.” Kara reminds her.

“He did? I wasn't aware.” Madeleine says offhandedly.

“It's why Donald is king now? It's why Einar's attackin' us?” Kara says indignantly. “And you weren't aware?”

“Her Excellency was informed of King Coinneach's passing, of course.” Ben Swain chimes in, one of the first things he's said since beginning his inspection of the blue coral. “Of course, milady's inventive mind was rather in overdrive at the time.”

“Yes, that's why it didn't occur to me at first.” Madeleine decides. “When you're puzzling out a new design, some things just go in one ear and out the other!”

“Yes, like my da's passing, apparently.” Kara says icily.

“Swain, what er, have you been able to ascertain from your inspection?” you say, desperately attempting to change the subject. Of course, you can tell from Kara's irritated expression, that she will not be as easily distracted as Madeleine had been before.

“I'm regret to relay to you, Your Majesty, that I have no idea what this is.” Swain announces. “It's quite unlike anything I've seen before. So I can only offer my own suggestion, to ask Jarl Hjordis, or repeat my lady's own: hurl this into the sea and be rid of it.”

As disappointing as Swain's lack of insight may be, you're not entirely crestfallen. You have one more card yet to play:

The Cult.