I'm Sorry, Evelynn Can't Play Right Now

[Lira Dajenn]

As Evelynn mentally screamed her name Nemene could only laugh. A shrill evil laugh echoed throughout the halls, running through the palace like a child with no inhibitions. It echoed and called throughout the desert stone, sending chills up spines and causing tears in slaves. The Queen of Rattatak had won this little game, she had defeated her sister, though not in the most subtle of ways.

Still caked and soaked in blood Nemene gathered up her favorite slaves, a cadre of the Sirens, and even a Verinth or two.

Then she headed for her ship. Evelynn would be seen to by slaves, and her sisters rage needed to subside before the two of them could speak. She would need time, and Nemene had errands to run. Word of one of her Fathers vaults had reached her, located beneath the city of Contruum. She would need to venture there, to Mandalorian space. That made her scowl, but the expression didn't remain on her face for too long.

No, her mood was far too good for that.


When she returned however, Nemene would not be so pleased, not at all. An hour after her ship departed a woman scurried through the halls of the Palace. She followed blood trails and broken statues, wandering towards the room of the Silent Sister, until she reached it.

A meek little thing, a tiny blonde woman. Pretty, if she had not been so covered in filth.

Rolling sobbing tears fell down her face, a sniffle escaped her every few minutes, and as she wandered towards the seething woman she seemed to shake with fear.

“Mistress...” She stammered as she approached the woman who sat in complete silence. “I have something to tell you...about your sister...”

She trailed off, but her next words were pure horror.

 

[Louise]

Evelynn had been left to seethe, left to stew in her own rage and metaphorical bile. Checkmate. She was left staring at the splintered doors with wild grey orbs, her meager chest rising and falling rapidly. There was rage, and there was only rage.

It had not subsided, not even by an inch by the time that the slave had scampered into her wrecked chamber.

The mound of flesh still sat upon the bedding.

Evelynn's granite gaze bored into the eyes, no the soul of the timid woman. It was a surprise that given her mood that the Silent Sister didn't kill her right in that moment. However, whatever information this woman held had to be significant. For her to come straight into one of the Queen's chambers unannounced...

Speak.

 

[Lira Dajenn]

“I-i-i-” The Girl stammered over and over again. The voice in her head scared her. She was not a house slave clearly, she was one of the girl that worked on the edges of the palace in the gardens. She had never encountered Evelynn, and this had been done on purpose, by Nemene's design. It was she who had been supplying the plants that Nemene used to create the poisons, it had been she who harvested them and gave them to the Queen.

“You are being poisoned Mistress.” The word seemed right. “By your sister.”

Oh what an accusation, what a trivial little story. No one would believe it normally, but for Evelynn, for her the pieces would fall into place. The Slave girl however still shook. Fear was in her eyes and goosebumps rolled across her skin.

Why was she doing this? Why was she risking her life for someone she did not know? Who by all rights despised her for even existing?

For her love, Johnny. "She made me harvest the plants. She made me grow them an give them to her. It was what has kept you sick all of this time."

For Johnny.

 

[Louise]

The big reveal.

Evelynn's face became blank as the slave told of her sister's actions. The events of the past year began to flash before her mind, little memories. Moments here and there that indicated that there was nothing but truth to this grand accusation. The little details, that her condition had worsened every time she thought herself well enough to travel it would all go pear-shaped, she would find herself bed-ridden the next day. Slowly those eyes widened, bile rose in her throat.

The night of her leap.

The mute had briefly come-to, with bloody pouring from an expert slash made in that tiny wrist. She was being bled. Somebody had made a mistake. Evelynn's mouth began to water as her lower jaw trembled slightly. Somebody had made a mistake, and she had almost perished.

The fate of the slave before her balanced on a knife's edge.

As the tainted blood within her own veins began to boil with hatred and fury, the blonde looked straight through the slave, through her mind and saw all that she is, all that she was and all that she would ever be. Johnny the slave boy stood at the forefront of her mind. In that moment Evelynn could have slaughtered her a thousand times, but she had held courage and love, stared in the face of death in the memory of her lover.

Run.