BRING ME THE HEAD OF ISHARA ALASTOR
It is a time of peace and prosperity. Having secured a powerful and lucrative naval
alliance through political marriage, ONDERON no longer fears assault by pirates.
Months have passed since the wedding of RAZIELLE SHADANA and TRISTAN ALASTOR,
whose seemingly happy union has since been blessed with the arrival of beautiful daughter.
Having heard of this birth, the HAPAN QUEEN ISHARA has requested that her grand-child be
brought to HAPES to be celebrated and recognized as an official scion of the CONSORTIUM...
***
Iziz, Onderon.
Anastasia Trevino didn't know where to look. As personal assistant to the Prime Minister of Onderon, her duties included managing Mr. Ave's communications and relaying any messages of patent importance to the man himself, as soon as they arrived. On this particular morning – and what a morning it was, the winter frost dusting Iziz in a dazzling whiteness – she had received a message which, immediately, she had felt the Prime Minister would be excited to receive, and yet upon delivering it, she found his response, as she watched him reading, to be... rather subdued.
Salem sat, looking over the data flimsy, re-reading the letters contained therein for the second time. The summons - and it was a summons, in spite of its polite tone - had been addressed to the Queen Adraudia, but Ave had been in the habit of micro-managing his sovereigns affairs for a long time. Whats more, the communication did not really concern the Queen herself, but rather the city's other notable royalty.
“Shall I fetch her highness Razielle?” Anastasia ventured. It had been some time since any of them had visited the Hapes Consortium, and Salem was by no means eager to return there, but Razielle loathed it even more so. It was she who had suffered the pomposity of the Queen Mother, who had endured long days of being chastised, patronized and, eventually, begrudgingly accepted as worthy of marrying the son that Ishara didn't even wish to have.
At this thought, the faint hint of a frown pulled at Salem's lips. The Hapan Prince... his absence from Onderon had not gone unnoticed. Though the people did not cry out for him as they would have their Queen, he had – in his time since arriving – won over a heart or two, but his departure had pushed Razielle into relative seclusion from the public. Her daughter, it was perceived, consumed so much of her time and though the attendants of the court were always on hand to aid in the girls upbringing, the Princess was characteristically stubborn in her desire to care for the girl herself. She did not appreciate the meddling of others in her business, an attitude which Salem shared.
“Prime Minister?” Anastasia again. Salem looked up this time, the frown still pressed into his features.
“Yes.. inform the Princess that I require an audience with her, in the state room.”
The girl bowed her head slightly and moved to leave, but a hand held up by Ave stalled her.
“Ensure that Mandalore is in attendance too,” Salem added, straightening his tie as he rose to his feet. “We have a great deal to discuss.”
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