straight for the knife (reserved)

[Beatrice]

		There was static in the air. Beatrice could feel it. She had spent her entire life practicing and perfecting the most minute details of diplomacy, politeness, politics, and everything else that was required of her as a princess. This was the day that it was all going to come to a head, a test of the skills she'd learned at last. An ornate gown acted as her armor. She was swathed in grays, purples, and blacks--it was a Plegian garment, after all--but the design was simple so as not to be too macabre or overbearing. She had been taught that something as simple as the wrong article of clothing could be enough to offend the most persnickety of nobles, but she was confident that she'd made an excellent choice. She was confident of a lot of things, in fact. She was confident that she was more than prepared for this meeting with Matthias, and that this was the culmination of her (short) life's work. Beatrice could hear the click, click, of her own shoes above those of the guards accompanying her and of Pantaleon's, who was faithfully by her side throughout their journey. If only the chamber where she'd be attended could somehow attend Arnold, she would have everyone she needed to feel fully at ease. But that didn't matter now. All that mattered was what she was about to do--and Plegia. The wellbeing of Plegia was constantly at the foremost area of her thoughts. Beatrice had no reason to suspect that the current leader of Ylisse had any great grudge to hold against Plegia. She had no idea that people all over the rest of the continent had dart boards adorned with the faces of the royal family. She'd been taught of the horrid crimes committed by her people, but she was taught those things as memories of a bygone era, rather than the accomplishments of a group very much still alive. "My lord Matthias, it is an honor. I am humbled that you would allow us the pleasure of your company." Beatrice curtsied deeply and rose. What she'd said was about half-true. It was certainly an honor, but she was rarely humbled by anything. However, she knew exactly what she was supposed to say and definitely sounded convincing while saying it. "I am Beatrice of Plegia, and this," she gestured to Pantaleon nearby, "is Pantaleon, leader of Plegia's army and a trusted friend." In that much, there were no half-truths. "If it would please you to hear it, I come bearing a proposal that I feel would not only be mutually beneficial for both of our nations," it was Maeve's nation, really, but she was speaking as an ambassador, and Beatrice felt she hadn't stepped out of line in doing so. "but one that would also help to pave the way to a peaceful future between all nations."
TAGGED:	pantaleon Matthias
YOU WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KNIFE AND I PREPARED TO DIE YOUR BLADE IT SHINES LOOK ME STRAIGHT IN THE EYE YOU TURNED THE GAS ON HIGH HELD THE FLAME ALIGHT YOU WONDER WHY I'M SCARED OF FIRE

[pantaleon]

Pantaleon

Health

100%

 

It was just another day on the his new job for Pantaleon, as he accompanied the princess, Beatrice, and their cohort through the corridors of the castle the Steward of Ylissa were residing. As a man of diplomacy, he hadn't gathered that much experience out of Plegia, as he was just an officer in the army with no standing to need to be sent outside of the country other than in times of war. That wasn't to say that he was nervous or a wreck of a ship in a stormy sea. He was still the type to walk with his own form of healthy pride and confidence down the hall.

It wasn't like he had to do all of the talking – that was the princess job, and all he had to do was to make sure she doesn't put a foot in her mouth, sign anything harmful, and to make sure she had the more “complicated” info about the treasury and military resources. Which was why some of the servants in their cohort held documents in their chest.

He was fully dressed in his ceremonial uniform that had all the splendour a uniform needed. Although, some might say he looked a little too young for it, and that he had a certain lack of medals gained through decades of service, but it's hard to make Pantaleon care about that. He was there to serve, his body didn't need any more swagger than it already had to make a mark on the world. Figuratively swagger not literally of course. He wasn't the type to walk around like a drunk sailor.

When he was introduced he bowed slightly as his standing required him to do and not any more responding with a: “Salutations, Lord Steward of Ylisse.” Pantaleon had his arms crossed behind his back, as he wasn't in standing to give his hand to a statesman less it was to respond to a gesture from them.

Notes and tags

Not much to say.
Have a tag Beatrice Matthias

Made by Zirnitra

[Matthias]

Unfortunately for Beatrice, and unfortunately for Pantaleon, Matthias didn't wake up this morning feeling like chatting with Plegians. Honestly, he never woke up feeling like that. When the guard came to him, pulling him away from his paperwork to tell him that ambassadors from Plegia had arrived, he had half a mind to turn them away with a simple 'gooo fuck yourself'. All that said, he felt obligated to at least hear them out. If not accuse them of crimes they didn't commit, then, well, to gain some sort of information to use against them. Also, to see how worthwhile of ambassadors they were. What could their queen want with Ylisse? Questions, questions. And Matthias was bent on getting answers, answers.

They met each other standing. The young woman with white hair appeared to be dressed for the occasion, though both she and the accompanying greenhaired man appeared to be young for their duties. The Plegian Queen could have actually sent someone who knew what they were doing - but maybe the white haired one thought she knew what she was doing. She was awfully poised and confident, getting the ceremonial ass-kissing out of the way and introducing herself and her friend with a curtsey. Then her friend chimed in with a salutations, and she continued.

Mutually beneficial, hmm? A peaceful future? Matthias knew enough to know that probably the only peaceful future he was going to buy into was one involving Plegia off of the face of the map - any Plegian could be used as fodder to revive the fell dragon. But these swill didn't need to know that, or at least, not just yet. With a hand, he dismissed most of the guards escorting the two to him, though they knew better than to go too far. Matthias was hardly afraid for his life, confronted with two clear newbies like this, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. "...Beatrice, was it?" The name was familiar, but even a bit of thinking revealed nothing about it. Matthias really wasn't paid to keep track of all of the names of the royal brats. He trained his golden gaze on Beatrice before continuing. "I'll listen to this offer of yours." He said it stiffly, almost as if he was being gracious by wasting any time on these people. And in fact, he was. For him. For anyone else, he was being a little bit of an ass.

For a moment, he considered extending some sort of hospitality, but then decided that it wasn't really worth it. At least, not until they looked like they needed or wanted it - and for the time being, they didn't at all.

"text"

Beatrice, pantaleon

[Beatrice]

		Any other diplomat as young and inexperienced as Beatrice might have felt small. She was, a mere princess, title without power, standing before the ruler of a nation whose blood ran through her veins. But Beatrice very rarely felt small. It was more than her strict tutoring that led her to feel that way. It was intrinsic to her, like breathing, to hold herself proudly and confidently. Sometimes, it was a boon. At others, people found her presumptuous. She hadn't considered that Matthias might be an example of the latter case. "As I'm sure you're aware," It was always a boon to assume the best of the other party's knowledge of current events. If they knew, it was a compliment to their ability to stay up-to-date. If they didn't, they could pretend that they did without any injury to their honor. "Plegia is on the brink of a civil war--one that will pit the Grimleal against the royal forces, as well as other non-followers." Her diplomatic smile, of course, melted away to a diplomatically somber expression. She couldn't very well smile while speaking of a war between her people--and she certainly didn't want to. She wasn't happy about it, after all, but what must be done must be done. "The Grimleal have wreaked havoc on our nation--and all nations--for far too long. We will rid Plegia of their political influence and rid the world of the danger of Grima" There were no "hopes" or "plans" in Beatrice's plea. If she weren't forceful with her nation's convictions, how could she ever hope to convince others that it was a worthwhile cause? "For this cause, we beseech the aid of Ylisse and our other neighboring countries in our effort. To ensure a future of peace, we seek to build kinship between nations and free ourselves from the threat of the fell dragon once and for all." She would give herself an 'A' for that one.
TAGGED:	pantaleon Matthias
YOU WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KNIFE AND I PREPARED TO DIE YOUR BLADE IT SHINES LOOK ME STRAIGHT IN THE EYE YOU TURNED THE GAS ON HIGH HELD THE FLAME ALIGHT YOU WONDER WHY I'M SCARED OF FIRE

[Matthias]

Yes, Matthias definitely was aware of the situation in Plegia. Why wouldn't he be, really? It was, after all, very much a convenient situation for him to take advantage of. He made a small nod in assent - barely even a nod at that - listening to the woman continue.

She certainly wasn't leaving any details out, was she? Matthias found himself growing impatient, though he remained stony and silent. She was also awfully confident in herself. Now, Matthias knew that there wasn't a singular way to eradicate threat of Grima without eradicating every Plegian, but she seemed to have this silly idea that simply getting rid of the Grimleal would fix the core issue - which might be true for another ten years or so, but inevitably another pack of rats would come and try to revive a god, just like this time.

So, what did they want?

His 'aid', apparently. Beatrice 'beseeched' it. But what was there to be gained from helping Plegia? Matthias didn't waste this much time and money paying off bandits for nothing - he wasn't going to take a chance that could ruin his double-dealing efforts. Matthias looked a bit dismissively at Beatrice, and spoke.

"Getting involved in another country's civil war... would be costly, in blood and in gold." He began, stating the obvious right back at her. "I haven't heard many reports of the Grimleal being a threat to those outside of your civil war. A war born of religious differences isn't my - or any Ylissean's - business." Matthias was just playing hard to get, in all honesty. He knew the threat. He knew that it was every Ylissean's business. Here, his features softened, just a tiny bit. "Now, Grima..." he mulled it over. "Can the fragments of a once-beaten religion truly revive the Fell Dragon, especially while having a civil war with the royal family?" He raised an eyebrow at Beatrice. "Have you any evidence that they are trying?"

After all, it could never hurt to know what the enemy is up to.

"text"

Beatrice, pantaleon

zirn said i could skip him