[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Lb2yTBk.png[/img][hr][hr][b][colour=yellow]Event:[/colour][/b] Envoy of ReTan [b]|[/b] [b][colour=yellow]Location:[/colour][/b] Ersand'Enise[hr][hr][/center]
In the hallowed halls adorned with intricate tapestries and lanterns, Yawen, the envoy of the Twin Emperors of ReTan sat in regal composure amidst the fervent discussions of the Central Alliance. The air was thick with the Constantian’s apprehension, an unease that palpably overshadowed the proceedings. They spoke of Perrence, a looming spectre that haunted their every deliberation, a nation so dominant that its name was interwoven into every plan and suggestion.

Yawen observed the Constantians with a quiet disdain, her patience wearing thin with their incessant fixation on their perceived threat. When the opportune moment arrived, she gracefully rose to her feet, an aura of elegance and authority enveloped her.

[colour=yellow]“In the realm of ReTan,”[/colour] she began, her voice carrying the weight of wisdom, [colour=yellow]“we pay no heed to the snarls at the gate when the true danger lurks with the wolves in the chicken coop.”[/colour] With a measure gesture, a servant placed stone ships and figures on a map depicting the lands of the Constantian Yasoi, showcasing the Grey Fleet. [colour=yellow]“Allowing the wolves to feed and grow unchecked would only lead to their ravenous appetites expanding.”[/colour] Further models were placed on the map, indicating occupation of Paggon, and the suggestion of expansion to southern Virang as they blocked the strait to the Ensollian.

The Constantian envoys reacted with a mix of amusement and scepticism, their jeers cutting through the solemnity of the discussion. One envoy, his tone mocking, addressed the Torragonese representative as he gestured to the placement of the new models. [colour=teal]“And HOW is THAT a BAD thing? We might even see the fabled Torragonese Crusader Knights in action in Constantia after all, no need to fear the Darhannics if they are tied up in a war with the Tarlonese.”[/colour] Some bemoaned the effects of the war on their own nations, [colour=green]“Those aberration addicted vermin plague our cities as they flee for refuge.”[/colour]

As the room buzzed with varied responses, Yawen remained composed, silently contemplating the dynamics at play. The ReTannese envoy raised a hand, signalling for attention, as the servant clapped his hands and announced, [colour=white]“Listen, as the Envoy of ReTan speaks,”[/colour] he declared, drawing focus back to Yawen.

[colour=yellow]“The strait connects the Asperic to the Ensollian,”[/colour] Yawen continued, her words carrying the weight of diplomacy. [colour=yellow]“This connection is the lifeblood between the people of ReTan and Constantia. It is through this strait that wealth, prosperity, and military might flow. The Tarlonese do not care for your politics.”[/colour] The implication hung in the air - without the strait, there is no access for ReTan. Intervention from her nation would be indispensable if there was to be an impending war.

A discontented murmur spread among the envoys as a recess was called, marking the end of formal discussions. Yawen only hoped she made her friend proud at this moment as she reflected on the discussion. Unofficially, the real talks began in the shadows, where fellow envoys engaged in clandestine negotiations to shape the destiny of the Central Alliance. 

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Amidst the opulent setting of the evening’s diplomatic exchange, the Torragonese envoy, a man with a suave trimmed beard and adorned in a fine silk doublet, took the floor, adhering to the customary formalities. [colour=red]“You made the impression,”[/colour] he began, his words weaving a tapestry of diplomacy, [colour=red]“it goes without saying that Torragon and ReTan have often stood together in advocating for peace.”[/colour] A corner of his mouth twitched as his gaze shifted toward Yawen. [colour=red]“We can understand why a daughter of the Emperor was sent when ReTan advocates for war.”[/colour]

Yawen, with an air of regal stoicism, raised her eyes toward the Torragonese envoy, meeting his gaze with a silence that resonated with authority. The envoy, slightly taken aback by her silent response, listened as she spoke, [colour=yellow]“ReTan has adopted a new policy and wishes for greater prosperity with our allies. Tarlon threatens not only the Alliance, but also the people within. Whether it be Retan, Severa, or Constantia. The Tarlonese have made their intentions known after Ai Medda, and they will not squander this opportunity while our allies do not resolve their petty squabbles with the Perrence.”[/colour]

As he spoke with a flair, the Torragonese envoy reassured Yawen, [colour=red]“The Tarlonese envoys have repeatedly announced that their affairs pertain only to the Yasoi. If they move on Paggon, Virang shall move to keep them in check. Our spies have indicated that the ruler of Paggon has petitioned Osman directly for assurances against a future invasion by Tarlon.”[/colour] he declared, his hand absent-mindedly stroking his beard, [colour=red]“Our spies have indicated that Osman will respond to this request, and has sent word for mobilization in the south to deter Tarlon. In Torragon, we have given notice for our lords to prepare themselves, just in case they grow too impatient waiting for Tarlon and catch us unaware.”[/colour]

Yawen, acknowledging the gravity of the information, nodded thoughtfully. [colour=yellow]“We believe King Sancho is a wise ruler of peace. In ReTan, we have a proverb. When the blades of adversaries forge a plough, fields of harmony flourish.”[/colour]

The Torragonese envoy raised his eyebrow, his scepticism evident, [colour=red]“No puedes estar en serio, esto es Virang, they would never accept such terms.”[/colour]

[colour=yellow]“Like the silk threads weaving through the looms, our prosperity weaves through the nations of Severa. Silk, Porcelain, and Spices.”[/colour] Yawen responded with unwavering resolve, and gestured a subtle reference to the man’s doublet. [colour=yellow]“We can enforce such an agreement if it may come to this.”[/colour] The Torragonese envoy prepared to protest, [colour=red]“Is Tarlon such a priority to invoke such measures?”[/colour]

[colour=yellow]“If we say yes, will you suggest our proposal to your king?”[/colour] Yawen pressed, her eyes locked onto his.

[colour=red]"King Sancho escuchará las palabras de la Envoy de ReTan,"[/colour] the Torragonese envoy conceded.

[hr]

Within the sanctum of her personal quarters, Yawen was disturbed by a growing commotion among her servants. Irritated, she called out to them, [colour=yellow]“What news do you bring to disturb me with?”[/colour]

The two servants approached, the superior one speaking first, [colour=blue]“I am sorry, she insists- a nuisance calling herself the Governor of Longwan requests an audience with you,”[/colour] he explained dismissively. The other servant attempted to interject, [colour=pink]“But she insists she is a close friend of Lady Yawen-”[/colour]

[colour=blue]“Be silent and mind your tongue in her presence,”[/colour] the superior servant snapped, cutting off further protest. 

Yawen, feeling a flush to her cheeks as she smiled shyly inwardly, stifled a giggle, appreciating the irony of the situation. She extended her senses towards the so-called ‘nuisance’, and instructed them to grant her an audience befitting the Governor of Longwan. The superior smiled insidiously whilst the woman issued apologies toward Yawen.

As the servants left to manage the situation, Yawen moved to the audience chamber as she seated high on the platform, regal in her yellow hanfu with her sword of office across her lap, as she awaited the arrival. The doors swung open to reveal the Governor of Longwan, Maura Mercador, escorted by armed guards. Dressed in a splendid blue hanfu, adorned with a dragon knot-tie, Maura was seated in her thronechair that moved seemingly unassisted. She was accompanied by an array of puppets, each expressing a life of their own.

As they approached, the superior servant called for all to kowtow to the Grace of ReTan. The puppets mimicked the gesture as they arranged themselves in front of Maura, while she bowed in reverence. The servant, displaying insolence, demanded that [b]everyone[/b] should kowtow, and as he clicked his fingers, the guards withdrew their weapons towards Maura, causing the girl to look concerned.

Yawen, impassive until now, stood up and declared, [colour=yellow]“[b]All[/b] must Kowtow.”[/colour] Her steel gaze swept the audience, compelling them to all get down before her. Slowly, the assembly registered her command, including the guards who shortly followed suit. The superior servant, however, remained rigid as a puzzled expression crossed his face.

Descending from her platform, Yawen approached him, her dragon knot-tie hanging from the front of her outfit. [colour=yellow]“[b]All,[/b]”[/colour] she uttered, drawing her blade to cut him at the knees. He howled in pain, collapsing before her. Turning toward Maura, Yawen extended a hand, declaring, [colour=yellow]“Allow me to assist you,”[/colour] Maura hesitated before accepting, and Yawen supported her to stand.

[colour=yellow]“The Governor of Longwan is my personal friend,”[/colour] Yawen asserted, [colour=yellow]“Those who show her disrespect, disrespect me.”[/colour] She gestured for the superior servant to be attended to, whilst the other who accompanied him earlier was instructed to get refreshments.

[colour=yellow]“Walk with me to the garden,”[/colour] Yawen insisted, tugging on Maura’s hand, signalling the girl to follow. In the relative seclusion of the garden, Yawen embraced her friend with a girlish giggle, [colour=yellow]“Life is really simple, but people insist on making it complicated. I have missed you.”[/colour]

Maura returned the hug, her expression softening, [colour=C0C0C0]“We were worried for a moment.”[/colour] The conversation flowed easily between them, as it touched on the trials. [colour=yellow]“Xiulan and Ai have kept me informed of the events, they have spoken well of your Teatro Sorridente”[/colour], Yawen intrigued, inquired about its meaning.

[colour=C0C0C0]“It means the Smiling Theatre”[/colour], Maura replied with a wide smile, with Yawen following suit.

Seated in the garden, surrounded by blossoms and tranquillity, the two friends continued their conversation. After a satisfying exchange, they parted ways, and Yawen watched as Maura, in her chair with puppets in tow, left. [colour=yellow]“Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart,”[/colour] Yawen murmured to herself, returning to her work with renewed focus. These stubborn envoys won’t convince themselves of Tarlon’s threat.

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