[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PLyfcLV.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/7CEeryv.png[/img][/center] [color=lightgray][color=ef82a5]Time:[/color] Evening [color=ef82a5]Location:[/color] The Dungeon [color=ef82a5]Interactions:[/color] Alibeth, Wulfric, Auguste [color=ef82a5]Attire:[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/zNTRc78.jpeg]Dress and Hair[/url] [hr] Anastasia had no idea where to begin to process all she had heard. For a long moment, she just stared at her mother through the bars. [color=ef82a5]“Then how,”[/color] Anastasia whispered, [color=ef82a5]“after all of that… how did you end up with Father?”[/color] Alibeth's gaze drifted, not away from Anastasia, but past her. [color=a187be]“After Polina,”[/color] she said, and the name landed like a stone in still water. [color=a187be]“After what she became, our street stopped seeing us as neighbors. We were no longer children who shared a stoop and borrowed salt.”[/color] [color=a187be]“Our mother was dead,”[/color] she continued, and that was all she allowed that grief. [color=a187be]“Our father vanished as he always did. And I was left with a house full of mouths and the certainty that innocence is a luxury granted by stable walls.”[/color] Anastasia’s lips parted, but nothing came out. Alibeth’s gaze sharpened. [color=a187be]“You are imagining, I assume, that the townspeople pitied us. They did not.”[/color] Her mouth tightened. [color=a187be]“We had no money, not since our mother had fallen sick.”[/color] And then, with the same steadiness she used when she spoke about hunger and death: [color=a187be]“So as I grew, I filled her place. I did what kept the little ones breathing.”[/color] Anastasia swallowed, the motion audible. [i][color=ef82a5]“So you—”[/color][/i] [color=a187be]“So I chose,”[/color] Alibeth cut in. [color=a187be]“Not a pretty choice. Not one I would ever wish on you.”[/color] She tilted her head slightly, as if examining Anastasia’s face for understanding rather than comfort. [color=a187be]“Over those years, I formed a plan.”[/color] A pause followed, and then her eyes went briefly distant again. [color=a187be]“The book we stole came from a baron’s house. That mattered.”[/color] Anastasia frowned faintly, trying to follow. [color=a187be]“Because money is not the most valuable thing a noble possesses,”[/color] Alibeth said. [color=a187be]“Not even land. The most valuable thing is the belief that their world is clean.”[/color] Her voice lowered. [color=a187be]“And that means what they truly hoard is not wealth.”[/color] [i][color=a187be]“It is fear.”[/color][/i] [color=a187be]“I went back,”[/color] Alibeth continued. [color=a187be]“And I did not beg them to save us.”[/color] [i][color=a187be]“I informed them they would.”[/color][/i] Her eyes did not flicker with shame. [color=a187be]“I told them precisely what I knew,”[/color] she said, [color=a187be]“That two girls had slipped through their servant’s door. There was a hidden corridor behind their shelves. That there was a private library and a pedestal and a book with a mark that did not belong in any respectable household.”[/color] Her mouth curved, humorless. [color=a187be]“I reminded them that the street had eyes. That a ‘witch’ had risen and torn our little town apart. That people were already hungry for someone to blame... and nobles are always the most delicious target.”[/color] [color=a187be]“So I offered them a choice,”[/color] she said. [color=a187be]“They could adopt a lie that served them, or they could gamble on the truth and pray it spared them.”[/color] Her gaze held Anastasia’s gaze. [color=a187be]“I became Lady Alibeth Dragunov.”[/color] [color=a187be]“They provided a story clean enough to repeat,”[/color] she continued. [color=a187be]“They did not do it out of compassion. They did it because I made myself expensive to betray.”[/color] Anastasia stared at her as if hearing her mother in an entirely new language. Her voice shook when she spoke again. [color=ef82a5]“And… Father?”[/color] [color=a187be]“Patience, Anastasia... I tried, at first, to do it the safer way,”[/color] she admitted. [color=a187be]“Patrons. Minor lords. The sort of families who enjoy being seen performing charity, so long as it comes with a ribbon and applause.”[/color] Her voice remained even, but Anastasia could hear the disgust under it. [color=a187be]“But then the Dragunovs took me to a ball in Caesonia, and Edin Danrose chose me for a dance.”[/color] Alibeth’s eyes moved over her daughter’s face with an expression that was almost weary. [color=a187be]“And I played him like a fiddle.”[/color] She let that land, because it was the truest thing she’d said about Edin in front of his children. [color=a187be]“I presented a curated version of me that fit the shape of what he wanted,”[/color] she said quietly. [color=a187be]“And he married me.”[/color] [color=a187be]“I secured my siblings a beautiful home, protection, stability, the kind of safety that does not exist for people like us...”[/color] Her eyes held her daughter’s, unwavering. [color=a187be]“And in the same stroke, I understood the cost with absolute clarity: I would never see them again.”[/color] She drew a slow breath, the sort taken by someone who has already made the choice. [color=a187be]“I knew then that I had reached the outermost limit of what I could do for them without destroying what I had managed to build,”[/color] she said, [color=a187be]“After that, the only rational use of my position was to ensure that the machinery which ground my family into the dirt would not be allowed to do the same to others; to take the authority I had acquired through compromise and wield it against the very conditions that made such compromises necessary.”[/color] Her voice lowered in emphasis. [color=a187be]“I told myself that if I could not keep my own blood close, then I would at least keep the world from becoming the kind of place that devours daughters for being born in the wrong street, in the wrong season, to the wrong name.”[/color] Her gaze narrowed in resolve. [color=a187be]“And I decided, above all, that all of you would live good lives.”[/color] Only then did she let the conclusion arrive, inevitable as an ending already written. [color=a187be]“That is how I ended up with your father.”[/color] A hush came over the dungeon; even the air felt tighter for it. Then, finally, her eldest spoke. [color=ab274f]“My, my,”[/color] he drawled in a manner that was ironically gentle. [color=ab274f]“What devotion you expect.”[/color] A brief huff of amusement left him; it never reached his eyes. [color=ab274f]“Do not mistake me,”[/color] Wulfric continued, unhurried. [i][color=ab274f]“I have no intention of paying you with sympathy.”[/color][/i] [color=ab274f]“Of course you would turn Polina into a sermon,”[/color] he said, as if remarking on the weather. [color=ab274f]“It’s efficient. It’s tidy. It lets you call your choices ‘necessity’ rather than what they are.”[/color] He paused just long enough to force her to sit inside it. [color=ab274f]“Your dead sister is not proof that magic is evil,”[/color] he said. [color=ab274f]“Polina is proof that power collects a debt. And that someone always wants the public to believe the debt belongs to everyone but them.”[/color] [color=ab274f]“You see,”[/color] he went on, voice almost pleasant, [color=ab274f]“it is remarkably easy to say [i]‘witch’[/i] and feel virtuous. Father calls it faith. The court calls it purity... And the men who applaud it will continue to sin in private.”[/color] [color=ab274f]“So do not reduce this into ‘Polina fell into ruin, therefore all will.’”[/color] A faint tilt of his head followed. [color=ab274f]“That’s simply propaganda. Though I suppose you're clearly accustomed to [i]lying[/i] for survival.”[/color] [color=ab274f]“If you want a question worth asking, ask who benefits,”[/color] Wulfric said, still calm. [color=ab274f]“Because the answer is never ‘the kingdom.’ It is always the person who gets to decide who counts as pure.”[/color] [color=ab274f]“And that is what you want, isn’t it?”[/color] he asked softly. [color=ab274f]“Not safety. Not order. [i]Authority.[/i]”[/color] His gaze held hers. [color=ab274f]“What you've done will not save Caesonia, [i]mother[/i],”[/color] he finished darkly. [color=ab274f]“You are simply doing what you've always done.”[/color] Alibeth lifted her chin silently, watching her son all the while he spoke. As he finished, her eyes slid to Auguste, knowing he'd chime in next. Auguste had been still throughout it all, gaze fixed on the bars. He stepped just enough to angle himself between Anastasia and the cell, not shielding her, but reassigning the room’s focus by force of presence alone. The chain on Alibeth’s wrist gave a soft click as she shifted her weight. His hand found Anastasia’s upper arm; the princess had been clearly overwhelmed by it all. [color=#EEDC5B]“Anastasia.”[/color] His tone was low. [color=#EEDC5B]“Breathe.”[/color] [color=#EEDC5B]“Look at me.”[/color] Only when her eyes steadied did he turn his head slowly toward their mother. [color=#EEDC5B]“Very well.”[/color] he said, as if concluding testimony. [color=#EEDC5B]“What you've said is… comprehensive.”[/color] His gaze sharpened, pity and irritation warring briefly before discipline won. [color=#EEDC5B]“I understand what you are trying to explain to us,”[/color] Auguste continued, voice still calm. [color=#EEDC5B]“That you were cornered, that you ‘chose,’ and that therefore you have earned the right to reshape the kingdom in your image.”[/color] He held her eyes, unblinking. [color=#EEDC5B]“That is not how legitimacy works... Nor is it how law works. If you want to speak of ‘machinery,’ then speak of it properly,”[/color] he said in finality. [color=#EEDC5B]“Who do these witch hunters answer to?”[/color] [color=#EEDC5B]“Because it seems to me they now answer to Father.”[/color] A humorless curve threatened at his mouth and failed to become a smile. [color=#EEDC5B]“I have no interest in watching Father discover he’s found a new toy.”[/color] Auguste looked at Wulfric with a frown. [color=#EEDC5B]“I do wish you had consulted me. Your objections to Mother are not without merit. But Father’s appetite for performance is more volatile. He will hurt more people in desperation to clear the Danrose name.”[/color] [color=ab274f]“I’m aware.”[/color] Wulfric replied evenly. [color=ab274f]“That is precisely why I intend to keep him on a short leash.”[/color] Auguste’s gaze lingered on Wulfric. [color=#EEDC5B]“And [i]how[/i], exactly, do you intend to keep Father on a short leash?”[/color] Wulfric’s mouth curved, not quite a smile, but more the suggestion of one, as if he found the question amusing for reasons he did not plan to share. [color=ab274f]“If he believes he is holding the leash,”[/color] he began, [color=ab274f]“then he will not notice whose hand is actually guiding it.”[/color] There was a pause, the faintest tilt of his head. [color=ab274f]“Do not worry,”[/color] he added, almost courteous. [color=ab274f]“He is predictable in the ways that matter.”[/color] It might have invited another question from Auguste. But then Alibeth spoke. [color=a187be]“You are both still doing what privileged men always do when faced with blood,”[/color] she said. [color=a187be]“You are searching for a version of this where you can keep your hands clean.”[/color] [color=a187be]“You have decided Polina is the central argument because Polina is the only version of this tragedy you can tolerate holding in your mind,”[/color] Alibeth continued. [color=a187be]“[i]Polina was just the first[/i],”[/color] she said, [color=a187be]“But long before her, and long after her, there were others. Young girls began with small tricks and ended with hunger in their eyes. Men who swore they were careful, who preached that they were the exception... Right up until the moment they were not. I've seen it many times. Over the years, we've executed many. Addiction is not always a frothing madness,”[/color] she said. [color=a187be]“Those who try magic encounter suffering beyond imagination—and too often proceed to inflict it on others as well.”[/color] [color=a187be]“You do not discover the volatile mage at the moment of temptation; you discover them when the street is bleeding, and everyone is screaming that the Crown should have prevented it. And do not pretend you will reliably ‘decipher who is being responsible and who is not.’”[/color] She let the contempt show. [color=a187be]“Polina seemed fine, too, when she first began. That is the entire problem.”[/color] Alibeth’s gaze settled, unblinking, on Auguste. [color=a187be]“So when you ask me about legitimacy and law,”[/color] she said, [color=a187be]“understand this: I agree with you that law is the only tool that outlives a single ruler’s temperament.”[/color] Her tone did not soften. She shifted her focus to Wulfric then, as if placing the next piece directly into his hands. [color=a187be]“If you permit magic to exist socially, informally, romantically—if you allow it to become something people do in alleyways and bedrooms—then you create a world where enforcement begins only after catastrophe.”[/color] she told him darkly. [color=a187be]“If you insist on restraint, then you make restraint enforceable,”[/color] Alibeth said. [color=a187be]“You draft a registry that is not decorative: names, affiliations, capabilities when known, and mandatory reporting of any sanctioned use. You bind magic to a royal warrant. ”[/color] she said. [color=a187be]“You require witnesses. You require a written cause. You require records that can be reviewed after the fact, because the kingdom cannot rely on any one man’s memory of what ‘felt justified’ in the moment.”[/color] Then, only then, did she let the personal truth surface. [color=a187be]“All I ever did,”[/color] she said quietly, [color=a187be]“was choose the kind of ugliness that produced fewer corpses.”[/color] Her eyes did not waver. [color=a187be]“I made decisions you would rather debate because I have lived in the world that debates produce.”[/color] Alibeth stood. [color=a187be]“And yes,”[/color] she added, gaze drifting between them all, [color=a187be]“I will soon die. When that happens, the question will not be whether you liked my methods. The question will be whether you were wise enough to replace them with something that holds even when your father is bored, angry, vain, or afraid.”[/color] Her mouth curved. [color=a187be]“If you intend to remove him,”[/color] she said, [color=a187be]“then it will be in your hands, Wulfric.”[/color] [color=ef82a5]"...What do we do about Callum?"[/color] Anastasia's voice was small as she whispered the words. Alibeth’s eyes settled on Anastasia as if the question had finally given her something solid to grip. For a moment, she did not speak. [color=a187be]“...[i]Callum died the moment he opened a book[/i]. The brother you knew is gone, Ana.”[/color] Her mouth tightened, and the next words came out lower. For the first time, her eyes shone with tears, and her head dipped. [color=a187be]“How I loved him.”[/color] Anastasia stood up fast. [i][b][color=ef82a5]“No.”[/color][/b][/i] [color=ef82a5]“No—no, you can’t just—”[/color] Her voice cracked hard on the last word. She shook her head violently. [color=ef82a5]“That’s not true.”[/color] Tears poured out of her eyes in constant waves. [color=ef82a5]“Callum isn’t dead,”[/color] she insisted frantically [color=ef82a5]“He’s—he’s Callum. He’s my little brother. He’s—he’s the only one who—”[/color] The sob came up unexpectedly. Anastasia pressed her fists to her eyes, but it didn’t help; it only smeared the tears. She looked up again, furious with herself for crying, furious with her mother for making her cry, furious with the world for daring to be this cruel. [color=ef82a5]“He wouldn’t,”[/color] she said, voice trembling but intense. [color=ef82a5]“He knows what he's doing. He wouldn't go too far. [i]He wouldn’t.[/i] He’s not—he’s not selfish like that.”[/color] She buried her hands in her hair, fingers tangling like she could hold her own head together by force. Her pupils had blown wide, fear swallowing her whole. [color=ef82a5]“You don’t get to say that!”[/color] She snapped suddenly, the words ragged. [color=ef82a5]“You don’t get to decide he’s [i]gone[/i]!”[/color] Her voice went shrill on the last word. Auguste tried to wrap his arms around her, but she shoved him away in a wild and desperate manner. [color=ef82a5]“He can stop,”[/color] she said, pleading now, though it was unclear who she was bargaining with. [color=ef82a5]“He can choose not to. He can—he can listen to me. He always listens to me.”[/color] Another sob broke loose, and this one she couldn’t swallow. [color=ef82a5]“He’s not dead,”[/color] Anastasia repeated, the certainty collapsing into a child’s refusal. [i][color=ef82a5]“He’s not. He’s not. He’s not.”[/color][/i] She wiped at her eyes again as her brothers stared at her. [color=ef82a5]“I don't want this,”[/color] she choked, the words suddenly small in her mouth. [color=ef82a5]“I don't want you to die, Mother, and I don't want Father to have to die... This is so FUCKING CRAZY!”[/color] For a moment, no one moved. Even the torchfire seemed to hesitate. Then footsteps approached the threshold. A guard appeared, face taut with urgency, eyes flicking to Wulfric first as if he already knew who mattered most. He bowed. [color=gray][b]“Your Highness. You’re needed. There’s been an incident—A tavern has been held hostage by bandits... They had mages with them.”[/b][/color] Wulfric’s gaze didn’t lift. Then a slow, controlled inhale left him, which made him look like someone tired in a way sleep could never fix. He turned without a word. As he passed, his expression stayed downcast. The guard fell in beside him, already speaking again, already pulling him away. Auguste wrapped his arms around his crying sister, more successfully this time, though she fought him with shaking hands and frantic, useless strength. He held on anyway because if he let go, she would collapse to the stone. [color=ef82a5]“He’s not dead!”[/color] Anastasia sobbed, the words turning into a wail as Auguste hauled her toward the stairs. [color=ef82a5]“He’s not—he’s not—he’s not! I'm going to go get him!”[/color] Her cries echoed up the corridor, while Wulfric walked the other direction without looking back, as the dungeon swallowed what was left of Anastasia's voice. [/color]