No pain no gain - Drink it

Alice glances at the arch-bishop coolly as he pours the tea, her expression betraying nary a thought as she considers the brew sitting in front of her. She had spent her youth with her tutors as they taught her all sorts of proper manners befitting a lady of royal lineage, from proper dinner etiquette to ballroom dancing, and indeed, how to probably drink tea. If it wasn't for those repetitive lessons, she might not have recognized the peculiarity of the scent that wafted up from the cup, but Taria leaves were a rare import, and their sweet fragrance was part of the attraction. This cup in particular held a potent bitterness within, a cloying stench that was immediately obvious to her, but she doubted that the arch-bishop himself even realized it. As always, she was underestimated, and as always, it played right into her hand.

"I appreciate it, Currell," Alice said, trying out his name, and finding that she wasn't particularly fond of it. Add that to the ever growing list of reasons to dislike this decrepit old fool. Did he really think that she would fall for the simplest trick in the book? She wanted to kill him just for thinking so lowly of her intelligence, but she stifled her bloodlust, taking a few calming breathes before reaching for the cup, downing it in a single gulp. The smooth liquid went down easily, but the putrid taste of the additive became even more obvious as she drank. It didn't match the taste of any poison she knew, so it probably wasn't going to kill her. Probably.

Humble? This damn cathedral cost a fortune to build and rivaled the royal palace in its grandeur, and this man calls it humble? Alice wondered if the citizens who donated every day knew that their hard earned coin was going to all these luxuries. Would they stop donating if they knew the truth? Or is their fear of the Sun God greater than their own sense of self-preservation...

"I agree, my time is limited," Alice replied, waving for her knight to leave the room. Even he wasn't stupid enough to misunderstand the gesture, and he nodded, bowing and closing the door behind him when he leaves. He'll no doubt be within earshot though, in case of emergencies. He had many issues, but loyalty wasn't one of them. "I understand that you'd rather not have my brother Jamis sit on the throne?"

Currell blinked, not expecting her to be so blunt about her inquiry. In fact, he hadn't expected her to be talking about the succession at all. After all, such matters are beyond a woman's grasp. Scrambling to compose himself, he managed to put together a hasty reply: "well, we don't technically endorse any particular succ-"

"Not above the table you don't..." Alice interjected, not caring to hear his entire spiel about the church and their stand on neutrality. Plus, there was a feeling of fatigue creeping up her spine, draining her energy. It was common knowledge that they were in negotiations with Del and Blake, hoping for either of them to contest the succession, with Del being their primary hope. He wasn't as pious as they'd like, but he was better than Jamis who actively denounces the church as corrupt charlatans. It was one of the few things she agreed with Jamis on. "But let's be real for a moment: how much have you tried sabotaging Jamis already...? And yet, he's a military man, and your spies and assassins can't touch him, isn't that right...?"

Each word Alice speaks feels like they had to squeezed out of her mouth, and a numbness was settling in her extremities. Her fingers and toes tingled, and the lightheaded feeling in her head was overwhelming. Any verbal advantage she held against the arch-bishop crumbled when he noticed her weakness. She couldn't tell, but she could guess that her cheeks were probably bright red. Even just mustering the strength to stand would be a herculean task.

Ignoring her scathing accusations, Currell leaned in, trying to hide his excitement as his plan came to fruition. "Your highness! Are you quite all right? Did you perhaps catch an illness?" He asked with faux concern, going around the table and grasping her arm.

Fuck. Whatever was in that tea, it was incredibly potent. But even so, the visceral disgust she felt when the man touched her gave her a tiny boost of strength. Would it be enough?