[b]Nahla![/b]

For a moment, everything hangs in the balance. Ruz's eyes are boring through you, as if trying to find the real girl underneath the performance. Then, amazingly, she begins to chuckle. "She really is a ridiculous thing, isn't she? Far be it for me to hold you back from instructing your slave in the ways of the Faith, my sultan. In fact, I think this is an excellent opportunity!" Her smile is a wicked, flickering rapier. "Go and teach her. I expect her to provide me a demonstration on what she has learned tomorrow night."

Grace-of-Heaven freezes up for a moment as she imagines how, exactly, her guardian might want you to demonstrate. You have to squirm and give her a little discreet pinch on her rump before she stammers back into life. "Of course, ma'am! That's my responsibility, after all! How can I hope to lead the host of the Faithful if I can't even teach one barbarian?"

So saying, she drags you out of the room awkwardly by your hair. It's a difficult performance, whining and squeaking all the way out while also being nimble enough on your hands and feet to keep her moving-- and even outside of the room, all she can do is help you up and keep leading you by the hair, making you walk backwards. But she's starting to get a little shaky; she's still exposed, she's likely got thoughts of you alone with Ruz swirling around her head, and she's [i]also[/i] so close to succeeding that the adrenaline's likely turning her head.

Maybe you should pull her into an empty room for a brief reassurance and congratulations?

[hr]

[b]Soot![/b]

"Hmmm." Ruz flicks through the sketches you provided her as you finish dinner. Together. "Yes, you do have an eye for quality. Naturally." She lingers on the sketches of herself, and drinks in the sight of that self-insert sketch, before devouring the kiss with her eyes. There's a lot of feelings churning there, which you're only beginning to unpack.

"She's not ready," she says, finally. "Isn't it obvious? She can barely control one of her girls; she'd tip all of our dominion into chaos if she took full responsibility for the administration. And my heart aches for her, it really does, but I will not fail her sainted predecessor by failing to carry out my own duty. If she sat on the throne today, she would be the next Ejelgarn: she would march our armies to defeat, provoke the populace to riot, and simper and whine about how unfair everything was before being deposed and bringing the Vulenid line to an unceremonious end." Her sigh is more than a little theatrical. "Can you imagine how this weighs on me, my dear? If anything were to happen to me, and she lost the support of the soldiers I brought in to assist her, everything would come undone. And this is the axis point of the entire world! I bear the weight of civilization itself while a silly girl lets her concubines paw all over her."

Ah. She's reacting to the picture of Grace-of-Heaven, looking so sad. Don't pity her, Ruz is arguing: give me sympathy, instead. A chance for you to reaffirm your loyalty, and Grace-of-Heaven would never need to know. Just flatter her. It's fine. What could possibly go wrong?

[hr]

[b]Birsi![/b]

Just you, because you have a choice to make, pinned up against the wall.

You've got Silsila's sword locked hilt to hilt. If you pull off just the right twist (and you can, you know how to do it), you can disarm her. The sword will clatter at her feet and you can bring the tip of your sword up to her chin, informing her that you have won and you will carry out your duties. It's questionable whether the Fire Wheels would stick around or try to run away now that their champion has failed, but you'd have done your duty. You would be upright and righteous, carrying out your oaths to the House of the Vulenid. And you would, doubtless, make an enemy of Silsila Om.

Or you could let that opportunity slip (no one would know you let it pass, probably not even Silsila herself), and you could accept her terms. Likely you could even add on an extra obligation or two on Silsila's part. And if you brought Silsila to your commander, the Strategist Hai Lin, you would likely be commended, given a duty that only a Host and a treasured guard could carry out, and given the opportunity to spend more time with the rambunctious, powerful Host.

What's your choice, Birsi of the House Guard of the Vulenid? Your oaths or your desires? Thankless righteousness, or praise from your commander and the thanks of this powerful, playful, bullying Host?