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Darth Malicia

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"Yours?" Malicia asked, tipping her head with a look of growing confusion and curiosity. "Is he a slave?" she asked. That'd be an odd bit of news considering the way the Darth behaved, though Malicia wouldn't be entirely shocked and she'd be compelled to ask further questions on the subject.

But since the lord had answered her question, Malicia decided she'd answer his, or part of his, for now. She could still see the threatening look in his eyes, but she didn't react, yet. If he lashed out, she would too, but she felt more curious than threatened in the moment. She still didn't entirely understand.

"Our marriage is political. He gave me heirs to secure my throne, and his bloodline continues through me. Our heir will be born into privilege and a powerful position in the Order," she answered with the same plainness, though her voice shifted to something softer as she continued, "But, I respect my vows to the Lord, and I enjoy his company. When he was around I saw to his happiness." She wasn't sure why he wanted these answers, and that was why she asked her own,

"Stolas," she said, unmoving as her gaze focused on him. "Why does any of this matter to you? I need an answer or I will leave, because I'm unimpressed with this," she finally gestured towards his face. "I came here to extend my thanks, not to be threatened."

@Mr. Teatime
 

Darth Stolas

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Morgan's eyes narrowed, flashing with anger above the fanged and furious smile the very instant Malicia uttered the word 'slave' in reference to his Emryc. Did she not understand the man she called her husband at all? Did she not understand a single thing Morgan himself had said? Such complete and utter disrespect that for an instant he considered immediate retaliation. Malicia was very much making things worse.

"We do not serve," Stolas corrected sharply as he tensed, growling out the words as iron fingers of his right hand began to curl-

But Malicia continued on speaking to give Morgan what he'd asked for, at least in part, and this belayed what he'd been about to do.

Mixed with the indignance on behalf of the man he loved was bemusement shown through an eyebrow that flicked upwards. He truly wondered how she could possibly have come to any sort of conclusion even adjacent to Raze being a slave. As she spoke further as to the nature of their marriage and pointed out it was a political arrangement. On the other hand she took her vows of marriage seriously, enjoyed his company, and saw to his 'happiness'. It was clear as day there was there some affection there for Emryc.

More tidbits of information, body language, words, tone, action and reaction were pieced together by Morgan in his head. The exchange at the beginning of Malicia's visit, the way she moved, the lack of perception. Each an important detail to form a cohesive impression of the other Darth, the same picking apart he did of every single person he'd ever met. He compared this impression with other details of Emryc specifically and Morgan's interactions with him over the course of their relationship and quickly came to a conclusion.


If love was a battlefield then this vapid, vacuous vacuum barely registered as a threat. She was far too inobservant and her' comments often showed a sense of being naïve or ignorant. There was no way in Morgan's mind that his Emryc could love this woman. Frankly he was even questioning the merit of breeding with her beyond her ability with the Force. This epiphany that she was likely not a true rival helped Morgan in reasserting further control of himself even in the face of her disrespect.

Of course he was still absolutely livid that any of this had happened in the first place. His skin did not shift on tone nor his eyes reduce in sharpness, ever watching the woman on the other side of the desk. While he now had determined she was Emryc's wife in name only he was still aggrieved she was his wife at all, and wearing one of Andraste's amulets no less.

Malicia's last question still irritated him further simply on principle. Morgan had just answered it moments prior and he was not fond of repeating himself. And apparently Malicia felt threatened enough to voice it as if Morgan had actually promised her some form of harm. A brow rose higher. This time he decided to be abundantly clear, gaze still not moving from Malicia's.


"You have not been threatened." Stolas leaned slightly forward in his chair, hands arranged before him on the desk. His head tilted just a little to the left, fanged smile curling up a little wider.

"Raze is mine. I am his," he explained matter-of-factly in that same icily polite fashion, "We are together. This has been so far longer than your political arrangement has existed. He is mine above all. This is why it matters, Malicia. " Morgan's head turned and angled imperiously toward her, looking very much the image of his most famous ancestor, smile never fading for a moment even as it almost became a vicious snarl.

"He is not a slave you bègwè he is my boyfriend, and if you call him that again there will be violence. That is a threat."

At this point Morgan considered the situation thoroughly transparent and would accept no excuses for further misunderstanding or confusion. The Drast prince straightened again in his seat after his clarification, the more polite smile reasserting itself as he gestured toward Malicia.

"Your thanks are appreciated, as is your decision to attempt fixing my mood. I would also appreciate the remaining details of the arrangement."



@Dread
 

Darth Malicia

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The lord went on to explain that he was with Raze. Maybe he thought that was enough information, but it only left her with more questions. Why was he getting this information from her and not Raze? Why was this news upsetting to him? Clearly Raze did as he pleased, and she assumed that included the company he kept. That Raze had a boyfriend was not surprising to her. At least, despite her growing irritation with the conversation and lord, she was glad that Raze had another person who could comfort him, if or when he returned.

Her thoughts and the answers she was forming were interrupted by his threat and he'd see the shift in her immediately as he said it. She shifted gears, discarding anything else he would've gotten out of her."No," she answered bluntly, a hint of anger in her tone. "If you want more information you can get it from Raze. As you said, you and him are together, so I assume he will be willing to answer."

Of course there was a small problem; Raze was still missing. Malicia had a good idea of how to find him, but since they clearly couldn't work together there was no chance she'd reconsider helping the lord now. In all likelihood, he'd find a way to track down and contact Raze so he'd probably get his answers anyway.

She allowed her gaze to linger for a moment more. The confusion and curiosity gone, only a look of irritation was left. "I'm leaving, my mood has soured," she said plainly, placing his datapad back on his desk and turning, leaving if she wasn't stopped. Clearly coming here had been a mistake. The lords moods were not only the typical violent ones many Sith had, but they were also entirely unnecessary, making him untrustworthy.

@Mr. Teatime
 

Darth Stolas

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Unbeknownst to Malicia some of the thoughts and questions she'd formed were a part of why Morgan was so upset in the first place. Originally he'd taken great pride in how desirable his Emryc was to others, and he still did even now strangely enough. But repeatedly confronted with his physical closeness with others Morgan had determined he was not merely frustrated with it. Emryc was his. The prince drank greedily and deep of him and he did not like to share.

Of course Morgan caught the change in the woman's expression and the new tone of anger she spoke with, a shift from the perpetual bemusement that seemed to colour everything else in response to a direct threat. It told him much more than she perhaps realized. Most of all she still did not understand the situation, that much was beyond clear.

She announced her intention to leave and turned around to leave. Morgan scowled at her, about to speak, then paused for a moment in his seat. Something was contemplated and considered quite seriously as he stared daggers into the pale woman's back.

Stolas stood steadily from his chair, face set back in the imperious and fanged smile that did not reach his eyes, head slightly tilted toward the right and both hands on his desk. Morgan felt he understood the situation enough now to make his choice. Speaking to Emryc on this matter was now its own adjacent affair for when the prince found him.

But first Morgan needed to process these new events and find some sense of balance of his own.


"So be it." The doorway Malicia approached was of course still shut from before. Morgan tapped a control on his desk to open it.

"Until next time, Councilor."

Malicia would be let out then and escorted back to her ship in the hangar unless she changed her mind and chose to stick around.



@Dread
 
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