You speak with the diplomats and meet up with Laoda.

You glance over at Atheas who still had your mother’s sword tucked away on her belt. You know full well that if you decide to skip out on meeting with the diplomats she would protest; she will pretty much demand that you follow through with her desire for you to try to act like a diplomat for a change. She doesn’t really have the power to stop you, of course, you were the queen and could order her to return your mother’s sword and even have her reprimanded for her insubordination. The only thing stopping you from doing so, however, is that deep down you know that she is right.

She gives you a pointed stare, reminding you of what you need to do. You glare back at her, much like a defeated teenager might before turning to Raxius, “Very well. Lead the way, Lord Marshal.”

You and Raxius started to leave when Atheas stops him by placing a hand on his shoulder. “Make sure she stays out of trouble,” she says in a hushed voice, perhaps hoping that you wouldn’t hear. You just roll your eyes and keep walking alongside your honor guard wishing for the hundredth time since arriving at Athenapolis that your mother was here and you were free to be the wild princess of Accor and not its stately queen.

Upon your return to the command tent, you once again draw the attention of the entire room, though for a slightly different reason than last time. Sure, there are men still eyeing your lovely young body but you could also hear them whispering to each other about your fury and strength, and unfortunately questions about your relation to the King of Masson. Apparently, Thanos’ public outburst did little to hide the secret of your birth. People are already starting to put it together that you were in some way related to him.

As you mingle with the diplomats the first thing, they ask is if you and Thanos are related in some way, and every time you tell them that you were asked not to talk about it. For some, it is enough but others are not put off so easily. Apparently, the precarious line of succession for the throne of Mannos is an ongoing topic for the rumor mill and because of your loud exchange with King Thanos, you are now part of the discussion. Thankfully all you have to do is glare at the more persistent of these and they are reminded of your temper.

Once they realized that you aren’t going to answer any questions about your heritage and that it is apparent that everyone already suspects the truth anyways, the questions gradually change to more neutral topics. They ask about your land and culture, apparently, most of what these fools know about your people are tales spun by bards who never once set foot on your island. You do your best to correct the worst of the misconceptions, (male babies born to Amazon mothers are left in the fields to die, the Amazon's legendary strength comes from sucking the life **** of from the men that you seduce, and your favorite - Amazons hate men, and hate sex of any kind.) History wasn’t your strong suit, but anything was better than the wild tales that these fools seem to believe. As you speak about your land you are careful to bring up your potential trade resources, namely the large amounts of exotic woods you use to build the rot-resistant galleys of your fleet and the many different types of Accorian oils and tropical fruits.

Thankfully Laoda eventually finds you in the crowd and is able to whisk you away. “Sorry I couldn’t find you sooner your Highness,” she says as she hooks a soft, pale arm around your elbow and leads you to quiet corner of the sprawling pavilion, “I had to reassure the owner of that very expensive desk you so skillfully destroyed that we would pay for the damages.”

You blush and looked away from her, “Sorry.”

“Oh don’t be,” she replies with a smile on her full lips, “The wealth we will gain from sacking the city will more than makeup for it, and as you might have noticed, your display of power and Thanos’ rather ominous outburst has made you into a minor celebrity. So I took full advantage of your fame and tried to build on it by reminding them that Accor is very rich in natural resources and a fleet that is more than willing to protect their trade routes for the right amount of coin, after we had some time to recover of course.”

You have to admit Laoda is a lot better in the diplomatic theater than you and you wonder how much of her success is because of her elegant beauty and dulcet voice. Did men (and women too probably) choose to engage with her just because they wanted to be close to her? You are glad she is working in Accor's interests although you can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable that she is putting your queendom up on display like a merchant showing off her wares.

“So is their anyone I should speak to?”

“Oh plenty,” she replies showing her white teeth again in a gentle smile, “First is the wife of the governor of Deni. They don’t really have much of an army but because of there location, they are quite skilled at trading. You mother had set up an arrangement with them, metals for protection. We can’t really provide much protection right now so I would recommend some of our oils, namely our Aphra oils.” This time her smile is slow and sensuous and she places her hand on your arm almost like she needs your strength for support. “Oh, that stuff can make the limpest of men as stout as an oak and a frigid old spinster as hot as the sun.”

By the way her eyes light up as she speaks about Aphra, it's pretty clear she is speaking from personal experience, and you wonder if you should ask around to see if there is any available. An image of this petite beauty massaging you with glistening hands almost takes your breath away and instead of letting your imagination take you into dangerous waters you turn your attention back to the matter at hand. “What about horse and Drakes?” you ask her, “Atheas specifically mentioned that we need those.”

Laoda rolls her eyes, “Oh I know she would love horses, but as I keep explaining to her, a carvery charge isn’t going to do us any good on an island covered in dense jungle or in a naval battle.” You smile as you picture this delicate flower of a woman standing toe to toe with your scarred general. “No, we only need war horses in long land campaigns. Honestly, General Althea takes part in one carvery charge and ever since then…Anyway, as for Drakes, those are going to be difficult to acquire.”

“So, I’ve noticed,” you respond. One of your first priorities as queen was to try and rebuild the fledgling drake corps and you have, as of yet, to find a nation willing to part with their drakes. The heavy losses suffered by the United Armies as they cleared the skies above Athenapolis will only aggravate the situation. So for now, all that remained of the first wings of Accor were the two drake carriers that survived the Battle of Elaina, and three Riders with drakes that were too young to join their peers. “Who would be willing to trade with us?” you ask.

“The only nation that comes to mind is Kalion.” Laoda moves her hand from your arm, and you have to fight the urge to capture it with your hand. “They have an overabundance of them but they are miles away from here,” she shrugs her shoulders daintily, “Maybe after the war, I can travel there and see if the new king would be willing to part with some; don't get your hopes up though my Queen, they could still turn us down. Ever since the war with the East our relationship with Kalion has been strained at best.”

“Damn.” You really wanted some drakes, if anything to dedicate the corps to your mother's memory, but it seems that you'll need to wait for a few years to see that come to fruition. You were about to ask Laoda if there was anything else you need to do when out of the corner of your eye you spot a noblewoman directing her son towards you. He is about your age and seems to be looking at you almost hungrily. In fact, now as you look around the tent, there are a lot of noblemen and woman directing their sons to you. Slowly you turn back to Laoda, glaring daggers at her.

Laoda is quick to catch on to why you are upset and gulps hard. “Explain,” you say through gritted teeth.

For the first time, you can remember in all your interactions with the blonde diplomate Laoda looks uneasy, she strives to maintain her composure, but all she can do is give you an uneasy smile. “Yes, well w-when I was building up your fame I…might have gotten a little carried away.”

“As in,” you say crossing your arms and leaning into her until you are almost touching the petite woman.

“I…might have let it slip that you were not only young and beautiful but…single…and a virgin.”