The Morlandian ambassador corners you.

"Your Majesty?" Comes a regal, dignified woman's voice.

You turn to see the Amelie Bistodeau, Baroness of the Verte Mer, and the Morlandian ambassador to your court standing behind you.

She's a tall, slender woman, perhaps a decade older than you. A crisp, aristocratic manner to her that befits her post. Her glossy brown hair is kept neatly trimmed and coiffed. She wears a gown of blue silk, a slit in the leg that most Itherian's would be too scandalised to pull off.

"Baroness." You nod, affording her the respect due a foreign diplomat. "I trust everything's well?"

"Everything's sterling, Your Majesty." Amelie assures you, her voice like cut glass. "I merely wished to ask if you had a moment, to share a glass of wine, and discuss a few things?"

Having nothing better to do, and desiring something to drink away, you agree. Besides, rumours circulated the court about the Baroness. You hadn't had the pleasure yet yourself, but more than one of your vassals had boasted of her tightness to you. The Morlandian court was meant to be the most depraved and decadent on the continent, and Bistodeau had come of age in amongst it. Even generally, the kingdom's womenfolk were considered easy targets, the punchline of many a ribald joke and song.

-

Amelie pours you a glass of a rich, red wine. Her chambers are warm, inviting, and nearly as richly decorated as your own. After a couple of months at court, Amelie had sent for some of her favourite pieces from her château back in Morland.

"I do hope you're doing well, Your Majesty." Amelie says. Though she masks it well, you feel her eyes appraising the right-hand side of your body.

"What is it you wish to discuss?" You ask, taking a swig of your wine. After weeks supping mostly on simple but intoxicating Beathan ales, the more refined Eastern beverage takes some adjusting to.

"Sinnabarrow." Amelie says finally.

"And what about it?" You ask again.

"Pierre is the spawn of usurpers and commoners. He has no right to the throne. The man is a glorified merchant!" Amelie recites.

"Every king on the continent has heard this from you Morlandians before." you note. "It's been nearly a century since King Nicolas was deposed-"

"Betrayed and murdered is how King Christophe would have it, merci." Amelie continues. "King Nicolas' heirs should be allowed their rightful throne back. We formally ask you to support our war against the Diacres, that we might take back our land and re-unify Morland."

Sinnabarrow and Morland had once been two halves of the same kingdom. The king had left each to one of his sons, that they might rule in concert. Naturally, the brothers' relationship had quickly turned antagonistic.

Nicolas, the King of Sinnabarrow had embraced a tyrant's, only to ultimately be deposed by a brief but bloody rebellion led by Guillame Diacre, his Chancellor. Guillame had been crowned King, and his great-grandson, Pierre II, still ruled today.

Relations between Sinnabarrow and Morland, frosty since the brother kings had grown apart, only became worse with time, with the rulers of Morland considering themselves the rightful heirs to Sinnabarrow. The two kingdoms have existed in an uneasy stalemate ever since. Bouts of war had flared up once or twice, only for the larger eastern kingdom's forces to be repelled by Sinnabarrow's small but well-equipped army, as well as freebooters, paid for by Sinnabarrow's ever-burgeoning wealth. (Crowning a Chancellor had definitely come with its upsides.)

“I'm sorry, ambassador.” You begin. “Though we acknowledge your grievances, this is simply not our fight.”

“That, and I can't imagine you'd be pleased to lose trade with the Sinnabarrovians.” Amelie muses. “Of course, I merely portray the wishes and requests of my king. Personally, I'd happily see our nations simply co-exist. I've family across the border to the west, as many Morlandians do. A Bistodeau is even Chancellor to King Pierre.”

“A... unique situation on the continent.” You note.

“To put it mildly.” Amelie notes. "It's not something I relish, having kinsmen I can only see during diplomatic functions. It does make life harder. Morlandian women who consort with Sinnabarrovian men are shamed, as well. Marked as whores."

"And are you?" You can't help but ask.

If the baroness is taken aback by the bluntness of your flirtation, her elegant face does not betray it.

"That usually depends on the man or woman and their desires, Your Majesty." Amelie says nonchalantly. "I must admit, I'm flattered you regard me in that way, honoured even. That is, if I'm judging your intentions correctly?"