Emma
Emma
Genosha
“My lords and ladies, tonight we celebrate!” Flagons of spiced wine, sweet hippocras, and peach brandy were brought out at Shaw's behest. There was never a dull moment in the Hellfire Keep. The large castle was a half-diamond, with three towers, one at each point. The Tower Black, the Tower White, and the Tower Red each housed their own “king” and “queen” and “court”. In the center building, the Inner Circle hosted their guests, powerful people with large appetites. Emma knew every one of them and had made it her mission to learn what made them tick. Hellfire Keep served each twisted fantasy, satisfied every perversion, and sated every appetite its guests arrived with. Though Emma disliked these people, she dealt with them pleasantly. She was not one to suffer fools lightly, but she knew they were her ticket to greatness.
The White Queen of the Hellfire Keep's Inner Circle could boast a noble birth, though she did not care to. The Frosts had been the lords and ladies of Boston, located just next to Westchester, for centuries. Emma had left her oh so noble family years ago. She had been her father's chosen heir, but left him behind along with the rest of her family. There was no turning back now. She had been atainted. Boston could no longer be hers, but it made no matter. She had already achieved a great deal more wealth than her family ever had. She used dyes from the east to change her hair from the mousy brown and auburn of House Frost to a platinum blonde that drew every eye to her. That was her intent, of course. The men and women of Hellfire Keep dressed fancifully, but never covered up in the way nobles were expected to. Emma found that revealing even a single inch more of skin could go a long way towards getting what she wanted. Everything is a weapon, she recalled her father saying. The slightest of smiles, the way you sip your wine, the batting of an eyelid. Everything you do serves your cause. She had not forgotten.
Nor had she forgotten the names of the nobles attending Shaw's festivities. She glanced around the room recalling names as well as secrets she learned from them. A piece of information is ten times the worth of a piece of gold. Too true, father. Winston Frost had been nothing if not cunning. He knew how to read people. He knew how to work people. Emma had learned well before setting out on her own. Serving boys and girls with only in straps of leather to preserve their modesty were sent out from the kitchens with trays of food. Emma downed her peach brandy before she picked a cube of cheese from a platter. She sniffed it and popped it into her mouth, savoring the smokey aged flavor. As she ate, she espied the Monegasque. Targeted. The tanned man stood proudly with a woman on his arm. That is not your wife, Cartier, she thought to herself. Interesting. Emma sauntered over the pair.
“Cartier, how lovely to see you again,” Emma said, smiling. She turned to the woman. “And who might this be?”
“Eh, Lady Frost, you look beautiful as always,” the Monegasque responded, his voice flavored with the accent of Monaco, his homeland. “Ah … this is Whitney.”
The raven-haired woman turned to Emma. “Whitney Frost.” Curious.
“You are no kin of mine, I hope,” Emma said. “If you were, I should hope to have recognized you already.”
“No relation,” the woman said. “Simply coincidence.” Coincidence?
“I'm sure,” Emma responded. Nothing for me while she's here. “Enjoy your evening, Cartier.” Whitney Frost. She had to look into that later. But for now, there was other work to be done. Emma downed her brandy, and picked up another from a servant traveling about the room. Drink in hand, Emma decided to tour the room once more. Captain Braddock, Lady Elizabeth … no Jamie. Odd. Bryan and Elizabeth Braddock were twins, she knew, but Elizabeth had used dyes from the east to transform her blonde locks to a brilliant lavender hue. They both bore upon their persons the emblem of House Braddock, rulers of Avalon. As she neared them, she noticed the lavender-haired Lady Protector of Briton talking to the Lord of the Aerie. That could be something. She stored the information away for future use. Right now, there were other things to discuss. She noticed Shaw slip away, and Selene had disappeared long ago. That was her cue. She excused herself, and turned away with a swish of her cloak. All in white, she was as a most beautiful apparition stalking the halls of some haunted castle. Hellfire Keep was haunted only by the drunken debauchery and scheming that occurred from within.
“My lady, we are ready to begin.” It was Emmanuel Da Costa who greeted her. Her White Rook. Da Costa was a Nova Roman, likely planted in the Inner Circle by Selene. The Black Queen would doubtless try to glean information from Da Costa about the White Queen's plots. Emma would never allow her that satisfaction. It was all too easy for her to win over Da Costa. At first, she thought she'd target her White Rook's son, a boy, Roberto. She realized later on that it was not family that the man cared about, but money. He was too weak to take power, so he latched on to the most powerful person in the room, and he judged power by wealth. That was a mistake, one that Emma had been quick to exploit.
“Very good,” Emma waved her Rook away, and entered the council chambers of the Inner Circle. There were sixteen seats in the chamber. Only six were filled. Less than half the court was assembled. Shaw was seated in the center, as befitted his rank as Black King and Lord Imperial. Selene sat to his left, one leg resting atop the other. Emma claimed the throne opposite Selene. Da Costa took a seat near her. Seated to her right was Lord Donald Pierce, her White Bishop, a man of great wealth and power. He had resources, yes, but the man lacked the imagination to use them. Give me a single crown, and in a day, I shall have turned that sum into something greater. Give this man a crown, and he would place it on a pedestal and stare at the thing.
“My lords and ladies, kings and queens, there is much to discuss.” Sebastian Shaw was a tactful man, but he never liked to dance around an issue. “Leland, if you will.” The Lord Imperial of Hellfire Keep's Inner Circle beckoned to a man on his right. His Black Bishop was lord by the name of Harold Leland. He was a very prosperous man, and it showed in his manner of dress and the size of his gut.
“Yes, my lord,” the man nodded to Shaw. “It has come to our attention that the Lord Hand intends to wed the Lady Grey to one of the Summers boys of House Essex. There is to be a feast to celebrate the betrothal.”
“This is hardly news,” remarked Pierce. “We have been hearing rumors for some time now.”
“I assure you these are no rumors,” Leland continued. “And this bodes ill for us.”
“Nathaniel Essex, Lord of Utopia,” Emma said bitterly. “The man is … sinister.”
“Coming from you, that means quite a bit,” Selene chuckled. “He is an ambitious man. A power monger. He seeks the alliance of House Xavier, but to what end?”
“Westchester is the largest piece of land in the Monarchy,” offered Shaw. “And of the Isles, Utopia is second only to Genosha in wealth. Why not wed the wealth and power of both?”
“We have no foothold in Westchester,” Leland complained. “Less so in Utopia. If they were ever to come into greater power, we would be suffering from without.”
“That can be remedied,” Emma said. “One of the Inner Circle should be sent to Westchester as an envoy. Join them. Study them. Gain their trust. And break them, if need be.”
“I will go,” Da Costa suggested. “The Lord Hand holds my son as a ward. That will be reason enough for my visit.”
“No, no,” objected Selene. “You would break up this marriage between Lady Grey and Lord Summers? How? By beguiling the Lady Grey with your obvious charm?” That comment earned a few laughs.
“No, no,” objected Shaw. “My Black Queen has the right of it. We should send Emma to Westchester. Let her deal with Summers.”
“I am glad you think me so capable, Shaw,” Emma began, “but I have work to do here. You may recall the little meeting we both attended earlier this day. I must dismantle the Punishers or give them purpose.”
“A task well-suited to you, I do not doubt, but our need for you in Westchester is greater,” Shaw explained. “Selene will deal with the Punishers.” The doors of the chamber opened, and tall woman with hair like fire walked into the room.
“My lords and ladies, do forgive my tardiness. I was delayed.” The woman sat in a large throne, ruby red in color.
“Madelyne,” Shaw greeted the woman, “my Red Queen. I am glad you could join us. We were just discussing plans to have Emma ruin Lady Grey's betrothal to Lord Summers.”
“My pathetic oaf of a husband? The man could ruin that betrothal all on his own,” Madelyne said sourly. There was bad blood between Madelyne Pryor and her former husband, Scott Summers. She had given birth to his child, and still he left the woman. The Red Queen of Hellfire Keep was originally from Utopia, an associate of Lord Essex, but after her husband left her, she came to Genosha seeking refuge in the halls of Lord Magnus. What she found instead was the Inner Circle.
“Be that as it may, we need to ensure that it happens before they are wed,” said Shaw. “It is settled. Emma will take care of our business in Westchester. Selene, you will deal with the Punishers.”
“My lord,” Leland said, “we lack for a representative in Utopia. Our gracious Red Queen is of Utopian heritage. Why not send her back as our envoy?”
“Are you as daft as you are fat, Leland?” Madelyne's voice was acid. “I would not even be accepted there. Summers disgraced me. If I return to Utopia, it will be as a conqueror.”
“She speaks truly,” Pierce chimed in. “About the first part, at least.”
“You need not worry, my lords and ladies,” Shaw said. “I am working on that. There is a woman in Essex's court. She is very close to him. She will aid us, given time.”
“What is this woman's name?” asked Da Costa.
“All will be revealed in time, Da Costa,” Shaw said. Emma saw him smiling. That almost terrified her.
“Will that be all, my lord?” she asked, more curious than concerned.
“No. Our good king says he will deal with the new situation in the east. He neglects two major territories,” Shaw said.
“Egptia,” offered Pierce. “And ...”
“Limbo,” finished Madelyne. “Belasco has been training the young Rasputin girl.”
“With Xavier's knowledge?” asked Shaw.
“Of course not,” replied the Red Queen. “I know these things. Leave this matter to me, my lord. I will treat with Belasco, and help train the girl, but she will be our weapon to wield when the time comes to remove the Lord of Limbo.”
Everyone must be placed where we need them to be.