[color=#DEC5D6][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/m6hY3dZ.png[/img][/center]
[color=#8D3B72]Time:[/color] Evening
[color=#8D3B72]Location:[/color] Banquet Hall
[color=#8D3B72]Interactions/Mentions:[/color] [@Apex Sunburn] Iyen & Sjan-dehk [@Oso] Killian, [@Silverpaw] Wulfric, [@princess] Alibeth & Edin
[color=#8D3B72]Aesthetic:[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/58FOu03.jpeg]Outfit[/url]


[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1064772112633569330/1100627858638000148/Banner.png[/img][/center]

Kalliope’s fingers still lingered near Sjan-dehk’s, a touch meant more for grounding than comfort. Her jaw had long since tensed, her breath carefully metered, but her expression remained composed–deliberately so. Only her eyes betrayed the storm behind it all. Keen. Calculating. Ever-moving.

And then she leaned in.

Barely. A subtle tilt of her shoulders. Just enough for her words to pass unnoticed by anyone else–but not by the two seated closest.

Her voice was barely a whisper. A breath in Sjan-dehk’s native tongue.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“They’re watching for reactions,”[/i][/color] she murmured. [color=#8D3B72][i]“That man is a witch hunter. I’d bet my life there are more of them here tonight.”[/i][/color]

Her gaze slid back toward the bound woman, then to the nobles–whispering, gasping, posturing in false outrage. But she saw what others missed. The white-haired woman at the hunter’s side. The casual familiarity. The lack of fear.

Another one.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“Magic is illegal in Caesonia,”[/i][/color] she continued, soft but certain. [color=#8D3B72][i]“It is hunted. And those found guilty are usually burned at the stake.”[/i][/color]

Her eyes returned to the two beside her, letting the gravity settle between them. [color=#8D3B72][i]“They won’t just kill the user. They’ll kill anyone who protects them. Publicly. To make an example.”[/i][/color]

She paused. Inhaled.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“If you brought any with you who use it… hide them. Tonight. Tell them to keep their magic buried. If they’re caught, there will be no mercy.”[/i][/color]

Her fingers brushed her glass again, the motion automatic.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“I don’t care if someone uses magic,”[/i][/color] she added, quieter still. [color=#8D3B72][i]“Magic can be twisted, yes… but so can a blade. Or a stroke of a pen. Or a lie. Anything can be dangerous. Doesn’t mean it always is.”[/i][/color]

Her tone remained even, but her eyes sharpened like cut glass.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“These people–”[/i][/color] her gaze cut to Killian, then to Alibeth, [color=#8D3B72][i]“–they want fear. They want someone to flinch so they can drag them off next. To them, to the church, magic isn’t just criminal. It’s demonic.”[/i][/color]

And then, [i]Wulfric[/i] spoke.

She heard his voice–and the faintest tremor passed through her fingers in her lap. A twitch. Nothing more. But it betrayed the shock running cold down her spine.

Not rage.

Not fear.

[i]Shock.[/i]

[color=#8D3B72][i]Did he just…?[/i][/color]

Wulfric hadn’t accused Alibeth outright–but he may as well have. His words had been clean, calm, measured. Not a sword swung in fury–but a dagger slid between ribs. A carefully placed cut. Deliberate.

But not perfect.

[i]“A few days ago.”[/i] That phrase echoed in her mind. To most, meaningless. But not to her. Not to anyone skilled in court politics. Not to anyone looking for blood in the water.

It was a crack.

A timeline that didn’t add up.

A delay that raised questions.

If he’d seen magic, why wait? Why not act then? Was he shielding his mother? Was this a ploy for power? Did he hesitate because of love… or strategy?

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that others would ask.

Loyalists to Alibeth. Enemies of Wulfric. Even cautious allies might start to whisper. His words were enough to damn her, but they left just enough room to damn him too. Was he a magic sympathizer or just power hungry?

And Edin?

Still smiling. Still indulging.

But even he had to know, he couldn’t challenge Wulfric without unraveling his own legacy. The King’s hands were tied now. He couldn’t afford to appear divided. Not in front of the Church. Not in front of this hall.

Which meant…

Kalliope’s eyes narrowed, the smallest of smirks ghosting at the corner of her lips.

Which meant the game had shifted.

There was a way to spin this. To make it look like hesitation. Like corruption. Like an heir willing to sacrifice his mother for power. Or a witch corrupting the sacred family, creating a sympathizer from the heir.

She didn’t need to create a scandal. Just amplify it. One whisper here. One nudge there. A letter left just carelessly enough. A truth hinted at, never spoken.

Let the court turn inward.

Let them eat their own.

She lifted her glass, letting the motion mask the glint in her eye. The flame had already been lit. All she had to do now… was let it spread.

She took a sip, hiding a smirk as she did so.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“Oh,”[/i][/color] she murmured, tone wicked and just a touch amused, [color=#8D3B72][i]“how delicious.”[/i][/color][/color]