Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK II - Scene II

Queen Aglaia Fetterina Fiorina Maquella stepped up to the lectern in the House of Elders. The lone woman in a room of perhaps four hundred men. The sense of gloom was palpable, and the ragtag assortment of statesmen that now waited on her speech sat with shoulders hunched, clutching and shuffling their papers. Fretting over the way things had so quickly escalated. It was very late in the evening, which only added to the sense of dangerous tension. Usually the house sat during the afternoon, but in rare occasions of emergency sessions could run into the early morning hours. Some of the very elderly members looked ghostlike under the pull of night, but their lively eyes showed no concern for bodily demands, as the wider body of the state consumed all thought and concern.

The Maiden Land navy had just, without provocation or warning, decimated almost the entire fleet of the Eastern Kingdom. Every harbour torched, every ocean going vessel, large or small, burnt or boarded. The unsuspecting crews, unto that moment compatriots - at least in theory - in their war of quarantine against the Western Islands, forced to abandon ship or cruelly put to the sword. Their guilty executors carrying out their orders from Queen Aglaia to the letter, though their hearts and sense of honour inwardly recoiled at the actions they were taking.

"History will judge me," opened the Queen, as she stepped up imposingly. "I know few of you agree with the executive actions I've taken today, but every one of those Eastern Kingdom vessels represented a potential threat to our peace and to our freedom. The mainland kingdoms now have black powder - at this moment in time we do not. I simply could not allow a situation to transpire that would result in us being completely surrounded by superior enemies; our supply routes cut off. Our people isolated and held hostage, no longer the masters over our own seas - as would've been the case once the Eastern Kingdom had equipped their ships with cannon."

"To those who say our actions were an unnecessary and unprovoked declaration of war, I say to you: we are already at war, and it is not a war of our choosing. The war began the moment the gilded arrow pierced Prince Aralak's skull, and the wheel of history turned the instant the mainland kingdoms acquired their knowledge black powder. War became not just threatened in those moments, but inevitable - and given this grave situation we have just two options: surrender, and take the servitude that follows, or fight. As our people will always choose the latter it naturally followed that I had take this dreadful decision the moment it presented itself. We stood at a pivot, where failure to act would've meant overwhelming odds and total defeat ..and I believe were any of you in my position you too would have made the same judgement. Yes, countless innocent lives were taken in these actions I ordered, and there is little honour in waging war under the cover of darkness, but again, I do not reign to see my people enslaved on their own shoreline. And as your Queen - and now your warlord - I take full responsibility for this violent act of war. May my conscience, our future generations, and the gods themselves judge me. I feel the weight of it, and I wish it were not so."

As the Queen spoke the final lines a few unexpected tears began to stray down her face, and as she spoke the last few words she collapsed into her seat, holding her head in her hands in exhausted despair. Not even lifting her eyes to gauge the response of the chamber.

As was standard with Queen Aglaia it was difficult to know if these emotions were true. Or if it was all just calculated theatrics, performed purely with political effect in mind. Still, no one watching, not even her greatest cynics, could've judged the tears insincere; and the force and feeling of her words carried the hearts (and heads) in the room. The gravity of the situation, and the magnitude of the decision she'd made, now transferring, through osmosis, to all the eyes upon her. Actions that, just a few hours earlier, had seemed wild and barbarous, now rationalised as a calculation on which the kingdom's very destiny depended. The bloody realisation of a war that had began, taking over from fears that a war would soon start.

Following the very briefest of silences a roar organically erupted from those that already shared the Queen's view of the crisis. A multitude of other house members, many whom, up until that point, had been far from on her side, cheered and patted each other on the back. Whipped up in their sense of collective fate. Some waved their papers and banged the seating. While some of her most loyal advocates simply stood in silent relief that she'd carried the house. As Queen Aglaia listened to the rallying support she wiped the wet tears from her face. The inky make-up adding to the sense of performance and theatre.

As this stoic resolve fomented, across the sea, fires raged in the harbour of Patina, burning bright against the now black night. It was a stark and cavalier move, worthy of an angry response. News of which was quickly carried by horse to the mainland kings further west.