[hider=Alejandra]
Conrad, loomed over Alejandra as she made her scene. He was as daunting as he could be listening to his guard lecture him about foreign policy. He had just enough patience to wait until she had finished. "By forcing us to select a champion, Pompey wants us to fight his battles." Conrad muttered through his teeth. "By forcing us to choose the champion, that makes us the belligerents, and the subsequent war would be fought between the Gauls and the Midlands. Whether we would win or not is inconsequential; Pompey just doesn't want to fight because he knows he can't fight wars like the Wandering King could. If he were around, there wouldn't /be/ any Gauls, and he knows it. He doesn't want a war to ruin his image. He's all books and no bulwark, is what he is." 

Conrad continued walking, taking his place back at the seat in the corner of the room where they resided before. "Councillor Ells would have done the same thing, especially considering that him and everyone else from Blackwater would be the first to have to fight the Gauls if we went to war with them. We want it clear that this Albany's war, and they won't get to toss it over our shoulders." Conrad then reached into his thick clothes to retrieve a set of notes. He waved them in his hand and continued, "And these notes confirm the sentiments of those whom I represent." Conrad then stuffed his thick hands into his clothes once more, putting the notes away. Conrad pointed harshly at Alejandra as he replied, "When [i]you[/i] are called upon to represent the near entirety of the Midlands to foreigners, I'll have a wider ear for your opinion. Until then, you guard."[/hider]

[hider=Eli]
The young queen turned a little paler, if possible with her alabaster skin. She looked down, seemingly contemplating something. Her chest began to heave nervously in her low cut green dress, and her cascading hair that weaved down her shoulders went up and down with it. her creaseless, seamless fingers fiddled as she faced a difficult decision.

Just as one might be inclined to awkwardly step away from the conversation with perhaps the most sought after young woman for miles, she blurted out, "It's all a trick, sir. What'll happen tomorrow will be no competition; they've invited the biggest, meatiest, ogre-like man to hack through noble warriors as they're tossed at him. No one's a match for him, and everyone who knows about him knows it. He's a known monster, murderer, and traitor to the South; it's all politics." 

Her eyes were closed during her outburst. Looking around her, no one else seemed to notice. As her head swiveled, her shining hair flowed back and forth with it, changing its position but never losing its beauty. Her whole body seemed to be trapped in its own personal world of panic as Julia feared that she had said something that she should not have... and someone was listening. Every inch of her twirled and fidgeted in anxiety... but it was ideal for anyone looking to see the king's new prize up close. 

She finally looked back up at her acquaintance, forgetting him for a time. "I'm so sorry," she stuttered, "but I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Especially not you. But I couldn't. It's all a big joke. They invited the medicine woman as part of it, but no one can heal what that man does to people. He brutalizes them." Julia shook her head, now lost in her own world of troubles again. 
[/hider]