A lesson on the Green

Cannon Green -- Imperial Palace (Kaitain)

        This expanse of green sward sits before the massive archways leading into the Reception Hall of the Imperial Palace. Surrounding it are the extensive serenity of the Imperial Lily Gardens. This swath of meticulously groomed verdance is the shape of a semi-circle with its radius extending 300 meters. In the center of the green, resting on a bed of gravel and surrounded by a one meter tall chain-link barricade, is an ancient cannon.

        Some Imperial courtiers and tourists walk around the green while others sit and stare either toward the city or the palace. Representatives of the Imperial historical society are available throughout the green for conversation and to answer questions passersby may have. As well the occasional group of courtiers or visiting dignitaries walk off towards the great glass height of the Imperial Conservatory, its many-storied house of the rarest and most beautiful plans in the Known Universe rising in the distance.

        The green is divided neatly into four sections by a series of walkways. At the center of the right and leftmost walkways are patios, each with a black stone table and four seats.

                        (OOC NOTE: Type '+places/help')

Players:
Scaurus                                            Slade
Objects:
Pain Amplifier
Exits:
Golden Archway <GA> leads to Imperial Courthouse -- Imperial Palace (Kaitain)
Glass Doors <GD> leads to Exhibition Hall -- Imperial Conservatory (Kaitain)
Grand Entrance <N> leads to Reception Foyer -- Imperial Palace (Kaitain)

Behold assembly of forces is gathered in the Cannon this early morning. Banners wave in the pre-morning air marking off individual levy companies. Little guess is given to who is in command. It is non other than the Hegemon who looms over his men wearing a stoic face. A weapon of the most dangerous type few would dare cross a Sardaukar, particularly this one. The Count Burseg holds his ground near the pain amplifier. Two other levies stand near him guarding a man clad only in a pair of gray shorts and shackled. An area has been roped off for observers non-affiliated with the business to stay out of the way.

Malia comes from the Reception Foyer.
Malia has arrived.

Emylie enters, in step with her two, ever faithful, omni-present guards, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Yawning, she takes in the surroundings, her step faltering. Squaring her shoulders, she pulls her cloak more closely around her against the chill morning air and strides into the center of the morass.

The Imperial Treasurer happens to be one of those observers, having taken a relaxed position just inside the boundaries. Two levies stand at either side of him, being the guards personally attached to Scaurus. The Treasurer stares at the man in the gray shorts, tilting his head curiously, though he doesn't seem all that interested in the proceedings themselves. More than likely, Scaurus has seen enough use of the pain amplifier in his time.

Malia isn't far behind Emylie, her own pair of Noukkers in tow like the good little trained pets they are. She's not sure what the point of the suggestion of her going to the Green was, but Malia's hardly one to disobey even a mild suggestion.

Emylie approaches Slade, nodding once. "Hegemon." she says, her voice flat, emotionless. "I didn't know Her Imperial Majesty ordered this a public gathering."

There is a small path made between the rows of levies for someone to approach. In that deadly deep voice Slade shouts out an order to the area that could rattle the metaglass windows. "This shall be a lesson to all. None shall fail or dishonor this house. For now, Lady Fenring you will be silent and observe. Is that clear?" There is no negotiation only a strict unyielding tone of discipline.

Folding her hands, Emylie inclines her head slightly indicating obediance. Her eyes flicker to the Treasurer, but quickly return to focus blankly on the pain amplifier.

Scaurus leans in the side of his seat, a slight smirk appearing on his face, perhaps in some sort of sickening triumph. The smirk disappears quickly, however, replaced by a cold gaze upon the prisoner and the pain amplifier. <<No, no one shall dishonor this House. Including you, Lady Fenring. Let us hope that this lesson teaches you the manners you need to succeed. I do this for you own good, child, even though you don't realize it now...>>

Malia moves forward slowly, until she is able to see what happens. The former slaves hands wrap around one another and settle in front of her hips as she looks over the shackled fellow, only to shift her gaze to the amplifier before she pales. She doesn't, however, say a word.

The Hegemon looks out over the crowd with his icy glare scanning about searching for signs of weak stomach folk. Dare none should happen to be a levy or an even worse fate awaits. "This lieutenant was caught being intoxicated while on duty. For this abomination and failure he shall be cleansed through pain. He shall suffer for his deeds. Purity is to be regained. Suffering is cleansing. Captain, step forth." The last part was directed to a levy captain who steps forward with what appears to be an inkvine whip in hand. The captain appears nervous as he nears the Hegemon, all most as if he is not up to the command.

"Five lashes from the whip shall be admonished, then he shall think about it in the pain amplifier. Should he live...if he lives we will see if is he able to server the Emperor. Captain, proceed." Slade bellows out again in a command. The captain hesitates for moment but glancing at the Hegemon gives him new found reasons to continue. The levy captain proceeds to strike the man. The first strike cause the man to cry out in pain. Inkvine whips hurt more and cause more damage than the traditional leather whip. Even as the third lash is given the first two marks swell up already on the back. The fourth is given and the mans cries out in pain, he begs for it to stop but there is still one more to go. The fifth is given. The captain stands down. After which the man is placed in the pain amplifier and Slade takes control. "Lady Fenring, do you know what this is?"

Mutely, Emylie shrugs faintly, her face an expressionless mask save her angry, burning eyes.

Pain Amplifier
        In the middle of the Green, morbidly ringed by a colourful spray of yellow tulips, is a glass-walled pain amplifier, the pains and depredations of those unlucky enough to be within its confines visible to everyone in the Green ... and apparently calculated precisely for that effect.

Malia lifts her arms to hug them silently around herself as she takes a small step back, only to bump into the Noukkers who don't seem inclined to go anywhere. She cringes with every stroke of the inkvine, her head bowed forward now and her eyes closed while her teeth bite down on her lower lip. Seems she

Slade leans down some almost looking her directly in the face. Voice booming in her ears. "Does you tounge not work? Are you too good to speak? I do not care if you are the Chancellor's daughter. You will answer, girl, when spoken to. Is that understood?"

Emylie snaps back at the man, her voice betraying her anger. "You told me not to speak, Hegemon. 'Be silent and observe' were your direct words."

"My God, do not play a smart ass with me. I am not some noble working for your daddy that lets you have your way. You are in the palace grounds now. You are under my protection. You will respect those at a higher station that yourself. Is that understood? A yes or no will do." Slade's tone is colder than the dark side of the moon and deeper than a black hole.

Emylie says, "Yes."

Malia remains off to the side, listening to the conversation as well as to the sound of the poor man being punished.

The Hegemon regains his full height from bending over. As the sun peaks over the horizion and the torch light ripples the Sardaukar casts a shadow over her small frame. "Seeing that the intelligence was denied to you at birth I will explain to you what this is. This machaine is a pain amplifier. It causes pain to any individual through never induction. The victim suffers pain seeing that the maching causes the person being insides pain receptors to activate. Like so." Slade pulls a lever slightly and the man inside cringes falling to all fours. "There is even levels of pain that can be inflicted." The lever is pushed further more and the man begs for release. He whimpers calling out for his mother and to God but there is none. "I have not even gotten to the upper levels that this machine can create. Do you like this machine, Lady Fenring?"

"No." Emylie answers simply.

Malia shudders as she listens. She knows what it's like to be in one of those machines...even the smallest cut is like fire. The poor woman is as pale as a ghost.

Pavel comes from the Reception Foyer.
Pavel has arrived.

The lever is more pushed and the man screams out to those watching for help. His eyes close and blood pours from his mouth, ears, tear ducts, and nose. The lieutenant pulls out chunks of his hair as he suffers in high pitch screams. Slade studies the girl. "Why do you not like it? The faster the answer the sooner this is over with, for you and for him. He is counting on you, Emylie. Do not let him down."

As the man's screams flood the area, Malia's own soft cry, almost immediately stiffled, is really just drowned out. If only the Noukker weren't so certain that she, like the others still watching, had to be here to witness this.

Fahahd climbs up the Stairs.
Fahahd has arrived.

Behold assembly of forces is gathered in the Cannon this early morning. Banners wave in the pre-morning air marking off individual levy companies. Little guess is given to who is in command. It is non other than the Hegemon who looms over his men wearing a stoic face. A weapon of the most dangerous type few would dare cross a Sardaukar, particularly this one. The Count Burseg holds his ground near the pain amplifier with Emylie as they watch together the suffering of a man in gray shorts and shackles. Malia stands watching as well. The man inside the pain amplifier screams for help as blood pours from his orifices An area has been roped off for observers non-affiliated with the business to stay out of the way.

Squaring her shoulders, Emylie's soft contralto floats across the Cannon Green, interrupted only by the screaming man, and the hot breath of the Hegemon. "I do not like it because pain is a useless tool for inspiring devotion and loyalty among the populace. And," she says, clasping her hands together tightly, "Because I am a human being do not derive joy from watching the agonies of others."

Pavel enters just after the girl speaks, a frown upon his face, "Well said, young lady. I never was one for such a contraption." The Justiciar glowers at Slade with disdain, "Must you play with your prey, my Count?"

Fahahd steps up from the entrance, a set of books under one arm that gives the impression of a student rather than a soldier. He eyes the spectacle going on at the pain amplifier with slight distaste, and mutters under his breath.

Caro climbs up the Stairs.
Caro has arrived.

Behold assembly of forces is gathered in the Cannon this early morning. Banners wave in the pre-morning air marking off individual levy companies. Little guess is given to who is in command. It is non other than the Hegemon who looms over his men wearing a stoic face. A weapon of the most dangerous type few would dare cross a Sardaukar, particularly this one. The Count Burseg holds his ground near the pain amplifier with Emylie as they watch together the suffering of a man in gray shorts and shackles. Malia stands watching as well. The man inside the pain amplifier screams for help as blood pours from his orifices An area has been roped off for observers non-affiliated with the business to stay out of the way.

Emylie's attention is caught by the Lord Justiciar. She drops an ever so slight curtsy at his arrival. But she soon returns to face the Hegemon, preparing for his next onslaught.

Caro comes up the stairs slowly, stopping every few steps to catch her breath before continuing on. When she finally reaches the Green, the assemblage is the least of the surprises she confronts. The screaming and blood of the man in the pain amplifier just about over-sets her and she sits down abruptly on the nearest bench, closing her eyes and covering her ears with her hands as she gasps for air.

Slade glances over to the Justiciar. "This is Imperial business. Remove yourself to the veiw area. It is not wise to critize this machine. After all the Emperor did have this installed here in the Green." Not waiting for an answer the Hegemon locks back on to the girl. "Did I say you could move? You are not in some debutant's lesson. You are in my school house now until it is said other wise. I did not give a rat's ass if you do not like this machine. You are right you are human. You are not a Sardaukar or the Emperor. You suffer pain. Would you like to suffer pain? Would you like to bleed out of your nose and pull chunks out of your pretty hair? Remember you are making him suffer."

Emylie catches sight of Caro out of the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she starts to go to her. However, her two guards hold her back. Ewan remains with Emylie, Karl crosses to Caro, kneeling anxiously before the young woman.

Malia isn't even watching the display anymore, though she can't lock out the sounds accompanying it. If it weren't for her own training, the woman would probably have stepped forward by now to try and stop this in some way.

Pavel glides defiantly up next to the Chancellor's daughter, his expression daring the Hegemon to have him removed. The man may be in charge of the Emperor's Levies, but the Justiciar has his province as well. With a wide beaming smile and irritating gleam in his eye, "I don't see why you should be so rough with the girl, old chap. Simply the indiscretions of youth, eh?"

Emylie's eyes trail down focusing keenly on the control box in the hands of the Hegemon. "I cause his pain?" An eyebrow lifts questioningly, but she shifts tact. "No, of course, I do not wish to be in his place."

Fahahd has wandered up to the edge of the viewing area, face utterly impassive. He bows slightly in the direction of the assembled Corrino, but the bulk of his attention is clearly on the man within the amplifier itself. "So, what'd he do to end up in there?" he wonders to the nearest of the guards.

Tat'iana comes from the Reception Foyer.
Tat'iana has arrived.

Caro responds when the guard, Karl, touches her shoulder, opening her eyes and keeping her gaze full on him, though her hands remain over her ears. She dare not look toward the source of the screams and answers Karl's inquiry with a hoarse whisper. Whatever she says to him, the result is that the guard sits on the bench beside her, blocking her view while she continues to draw in deep shuddering breaths.

The sight of Karl kneeling before Caro sickens the Beast. "You come here now!" A grim smile spreads over the leathery lips of the Hegemon. "Why, my lady, it seems the Great Almighty did give you a brain. Why would you not trade places with him?" The guards who are at attention ignore Fahahd.

Behold assembly of forces is gathered in the Cannon this early morning. Banners wave in the pre-morning air marking off individual levy companies. Little guess is given to who is in command. It is non other than the Hegemon who looms over his men wearing a stoic face. A weapon of the most dangerous type few would dare cross a Sardaukar, particularly this one. The Count Burseg holds his ground near the pain amplifier with Emylie as they watch together the suffering of a man in gray shorts and shackles. Malia stands watching as well. The man inside the pain amplifier screams for help as blood pours from his orifices An area has been roped off for observers non-affiliated with the business to stay out of the way. Pavel stands next to the Lady Fenring while Caro sits at a nearby bench. Fahahd is trying to speak with one of the guards.

As the Hegemon suggests Emylie takes the fellows face, Malia's stomach drops within her and she finds herself nearly being ill. She's not really watching rightn ow, her eyes being closed and her head tilted forward while her hands knot around themselves. As she continues to listen, she takes a small step forward.

Nataliya climbs up the Stairs.
Nataliya has arrived.

There is a small procession making its way down the path from grand entrance, albeit a slow one. The usual overly-large contingent of Noukker guard the small group of women as they make their way, the Empress also surrounded by the usual small knot of ladies in waiting. The screams on the green draw the eye of those who might be curious, but most separate from the group and head off towards the conservatory on their own. Well, all of the ladies in waiting depart the company of the Empress actually, the last two to hold out deciding as they near the scene that it's not to their liking either.

Tat'iana approaches, signalling the closest Noukker to her to hold his silence and not announce her presence. She'd rather watch a moment, to see precisely what it is that is happening, an eyebrow cocked as she notes the number of witnesses gathered.

Emylie closes her eyes, inhaling deeply, stilling herself. Opening her eyes again, she answers the Hegemon, her voice even, devoid of her previous anger. "Why, Hegemon, I would think that was self evident. This man is in horrible pain. Why would any person wish that on herself?"

"Because there can be nobility in assuming the suffering of another, especially if there's no point to their suffering..or if one has been the cause of it," Fahd replies, offhandedly. He's turned away a little to survey the rest of the gathering, green gaze still rather vague...and thus he spots the gravid Empress amidst her entourage, and drops with almost insolent slowness into the proper obeisance.

Pavel just shakes his head in disapproval, "A fine lesson, Count. A fine lesson in how /not/ to rule. Pain for pains sake only serves to enrage the populace. Even a Sarduakar can fall to a horde of commoners." Feeling confident that even though the Burseg blusters at the girl, no actual harm will befall her, he turns to leave and notices the Empress. He bows in acknowledgement silently as he begins to walk into the Palace.

By stark contrast, the Rastanyev appearing from the opposite direction of the far-loftier kinswoman now called 'Empress' has but one attendant, a single guard who walks just behind his charge. Nataliya does not engage in conversation with him, of course, but her attention is on a far different matter than the scenery of the Palace, as evidenced by the tardy manner in which she registers the appearance of Tat'iana. With the softest of exclamations and the most evident of surprise she greets this royal entourage as she should, by lowering herself to the ground in a full curtsey, eyes trained before her. At least she knows her courtesies.

A squad of guards turn to look a Fahahd as he speaks. They don't seem pleased with comments being made at this point from outsiders. Back up to the front the Hegemon lowers the lever decreasing the pain on the man. "Amazing what you can learn, child. Do you want to be in his place? Yes or no?""

Sighing, Emylie replies, "For the second time, no. I do not."

Layard comes from the Reception Foyer.
Layard has arrived.

"Enough," Tat'iana's voice rings across the morning air. She waddles a step closer, letting her eyes rest on the unfortunate being tortured a moment. Long enough to pale, and rest a hand protectively across her enlarged belly, but no longer. "Enough," she repeats, though much more quietly, "Lady Emylie has learned her lesson, I think. It's enough.... no more."

And hovering at the edge of her voice are tears just barely held in check.
Layard exits from the Palace. Of course he has watched the entire performance from his sitting room window, but nevertheless, he makes his exit...Defiant, and bearing notes.

Quite the scene indeed. Nataliya rises slowly, once propriety allows such, and a hand discreetly sweeps over her skirts to ensure their lie is without fault. She cannot help looking toward the pain amplifier, despite the fact that its sight and sound drain color from her complexion: a necessary evil, this.

Kainin stares at the scene, his anger held in check. Surely, he thinks, this is no way to treat a human being.

Dropping into a straight-backed regal curtsy, Emylie lowers her dark lashes to hide the emotions in her eyes. Rising out of the curtsy, she seems to suddenly become aware of the crowd. She takes a step backwards, taking it all in.

Something does hold a leash on the Sardaukar's neck, the voice of the Empress. He goes to 'instruct' his pupil again but stops in mid action and bows low to Tat'iana. Though the Beast uses all his might to calm himself his great muscles still tremble from the pain he has caused. All the while the man inside still suffers on the lowest setting. The blood has stopped pouring from his ears and nose at least.

Pavel glances back over his shoulder, an approving nod offered indirectly to the Empress as he halts his egress into the Palace to see what comes of her instructions.

Fahahd keeps his gaze humbly lowered, for the most part, as is proper...though he does allow himself one glance of scorn at the Empress, before he again looks down to the turf, one hand resting on it.

Galen climbs up the Stairs.
Galen has arrived.

Nataliya's sideways glance takes in the Harkonnen and his sneer, a far better (in some ways) focal point than the pain amplifier and its victim. Brown eyes narrow, the ebon brows furrowing in growing temper.

Layard steps infront of the respective groups, removing his chevalier peacock plumed hat, and bowing to the Empress, as well as the nobles in the audience. The Marquis Corrino makes his words clear, "The Forms /MUST/ Be Obeyed. The Imperial House of Corrino for thousands of years has set this phrase into flesh, forging it out of blood, sweat, pain, sorrow, and joy." He turns to the kitchen servant, who bleeds from almost every limb, "Let these be a reminder to those who bite the hand that feeds them. Let this be a reminder for those who do not follow the forms, for those who do not know their place within this fragile society!" He glares back at the crowd, looking at them all sternly, a terrier for the Emperor of course. "The Forms Must Be Obeyed. God Save the Emperor and the Empress!"

Caro responds to a word from the guard at her side, calling her attention to the Empress' presence. From the bench, Caro moves to curtsey, her gaze lowered, though she crosses herself surreptitiously and murmurs a silent prayer as long as the cries of pain continue.

OOC) Layard says, "I was informed that the prisoner was not a kitchen servant but a drunken soldier. Well change kitchen servant to scotch whore. ;)"

Tat'iana's eyes do not leave the Hegemon, noting his lack of motion towards the amplifier to shut it off. Her lips purse, and her face reddens, her own tempestuous anger rising. "Hegemon!" she snaps, "I said /enough/! Turn that bloody thing off, /now/!" Layard's speech is completely ignored, unfortunately, as she takes another waddled step towards the beast and his machine.

Emylie clasps her hands behind her back, her empression a carefully composed stony mask. Her eyes betray her intense, burning anger. She stands behind her Lord Corrino, looking at him, but not focused on him.

Galen saunters up from the pipes, with an air somewhere between boredem and casual sadism. He seems not quite suprised to see such an august gathering on the green, but then again this is the Imperial Palace so one had best be prepared for anything. Attracted by the writhing, blood smeared mass within the pain amplifier he draws near to watch the fun and games.

Fahahd is apparently doing an intensive survey of the blades of grass immediately in front of him, as he keeps his face pointed towards the turf. HE glanes up from under his lashes as much as he dares, gaze flicking mostly between the Empress and the Hegemon. Perhaps she doesn't have as much control over that pet monster as she imagines.

Immediately Slade rises and turns the machine off. The lieutenant lies there cringing in his own fluids. The Hegemon nods to the two guards who retrieve the man and carry him out of the way. Making sure that orders were followed, the Hegemon stands at a tight attention before the Empress.

So many watch the Empress and Hegemon, along with the garish creation of the machine, that Nataliya finds her interest lingering on Fahahd. She has not yet espied the Mentat of her House, one of the few here that she knows by sight immediately, nor shall she so long as she studies this Harkonnen from the corners of her eyes.

Kainin looks at the Empress with a look of admiration in his eye. He applauds her, inaudibly.

Layard steps back, passing the Lady Fenring with only a sidelong glance...his face stoic as always in these situations. He observed the removing of the sickly tortured flesh that is pulled out of the womb of torture.

Fahahd remains crouched patiently, as if the submissive posture bothered him not at all. Incongruously, a set of books sits beside his knee, bearing the markings of the Imperial Library. His expression has lapsed back into its usual polite neutrality, though he seems faintly absented now, as if not really paying attention to the situation at hand.

Caro's gaze remains lowered, out of respect for the Empress, and out of a sense of self-preservation. Now that the screaming has stopped...mostly likely to be replaced by pathetic whimpering if not death-like silence...Caro stops the repetition of mumbled prayers and waits for whatever will happen next.

The Hegemon stands keeping his ground and holding his face in an impassive expression. The Sardaukar's muscles still tight, twitch under the uniform. The smell of blood has a powerful effect on the faithful.

Pavel offers a mixed expression of disappointment and puzzlement, his trained ear detecting the Empress' hand in this act. He tentatively nods to her as her eyes pass over him, respect present, but admiration lacking.

The noble guard Karl, hovers by Lady Caroline. Removing his jacket, he places it over her shoulder to warm her against the chill of the early morning.

Library books? Nataliya skitters a glance toward Tat'iana, who is plainly occupied with another matter, and sidles toward Fahahd. Not too close, no, but close enough to see who he may be and what he is reading (just out of interest). *WHAT* he is at least is plainly stated by his uniform.

Galen offers a formal nod to the Emperess as her gaze sweeps across the crowd before folding his arms across his chest.

"We hope the rest of your day progresses more pleasantly," Tat'iana says, nodding to each of those gathered. And then, quietly, she adds, "The Forms must be obeyed." Her tone is mechanical in uttering the phrase, flat and toneless. Gathering her skirts, she turns and begins to make her slow way towards the shelter of the gardens within the conservatory, where her ladies in waiting have long since fled.

Layard eyes remain completely on the buisness at hand. His chevalier cap lies under his arm, and the gold on his uniform shines in the rosy fingers of dawn. His expression is stoic, emotionless...and quite serious.

As the sun peeks its golden rays over the Palace walls, the light falls on the
little Lady Fenring, standing stoically with her guard. The chill morning air causes her breath to steam as she speaks, "My Lord Corrino?"

Fahahd notices the noblewoman approaching, but makes no move to scuttle away, or hide the reading material: it's an odd assortment of texts on ancient music and the history of pre-Guild Terra. As the Empress departs, Fahd rises slowly and gathers up the volumes, apparently intent on resuming his journey to the library.

Layard turns to the Lady Fenring. He raises an eyebrow, "Yes, m'Lady?" He sniffs a bit, his aqualine nose twitching a bit in the crisp, dawn air.
Long distance to Tat'iana: Emylie sighs. sorry. had it written a while ago

Galen mumbles under his breath, "How quaint.

Not so interested in him as to detain him, Nataliya lingers a handful of feet away from Fahahd to study him, what he is reading, and where he may go. She is, at least, not too obvious about this sort of attention.

Fahahd isn't entirely oblivious to the scrutiny...but it's not his place to speak unless spoken to. He offers a faint nod, and turns towards the entrance to the Palace, looking quite at home.

Emylie gathers her skirts about her, advancing the few steps to the Lord. "So that I may be clear on the lesson that is meant to be presented here today, I would be ever so grateful if you would recite for me the specific Forms that have been called into question and require obedience through this particular form of punishment." She curtsies. "Thank you, My Lord."

Grim Soldier of Death holds at attention though all the while watching those about the green. The gathered units of guards remain at attention as well untill word is given from the Hegemon. So cold that single eye is as it lays upon those gathered. Slade waits for another order.

Tat'iana walks to the and passes through the Glass Doors.
Tat'iana has left.

Kainin cocks an eyebrow at the movement between the noblewoman and the Harkonnen. What could they possibly be up to?

Layard looks to the girl, and says in almost a Louis XIV tone, "The Forms? My Lady Fenring, His Sublime Majesty is the incarnation of the Forms themselves. They will be obeyed."

Caro softly thanks the guard for his consideration and pulls the jacket tighter around her shoulders. Her face is drained of color, but at least she's no longer fighting for every breath.

Pavel follows the Empress into the Palace, still somewhat puzzled at the origins of such a demonstration.
Pavel passes the Grand Entrance.
Pavel has left.

Emylie nods slowly, taking this in, "So there are no written Forms that spell this out? it is His Majesty's will?"

Lips pressing together, Nataliya gives a cursory nod to her guard and pivots to go, her back to Fahahd and whatever else remains in the courtyard. It is then she espies Galen, and, startled, she queries, "Master Galen, what brings you here?" when she is near enough to ask such a thing.

Layard states, "A House Major shall have /absolute/ rule over their subjects as long as such actions are not treasonous." He wets his lips, "Do you require more, Lady Fenring?"

Galen bows to the Countess, "Hello your ladyship. I had some....socail business to attend to here at the palace and happened upon this impromptu....specticle. Pray tell, what happened here, as I missed all but the final moments."

The Empress leaves and the Hegemon activates once more. His eerie deep voice rangs out over the green. "Detatchment stand, dismissed." With that the entire mass of levies depart the area in military parade. The different unit batle standards waving in the air. With the greens cleared of the nonessential personal, Slade scans the area looking not to please with one guard in particular. Janitors begin to mop up the amplifier while making sure Slae is not near the control while they are inside.

Kainin watches the the conversation between Layard and Emilyie intently, smiling at the strength of the woman.

Emylie scans the faces in the crowd, shielding her eyes against the bright sunlight. She smiles mildly. "None at this time, My Lord." She curtsies to the Lord Corrino. Gathering her skirts, she crosses to the Lady Caroline, speaking to her softly.

Scaurus, Imperial Treasurer, finally rises from his statued position, though his face remains impassive and stoic. He paces his steps, making his way over to Emylie and the Lady Caroline and clearing his raspy throat, "Lady Fenring. If you have the time now, I will take you up on your apology, and the offer for a tute on economics." He glances momentarily at Caroline, and inclines his head just a tad in respect.

Caro nods in response to Emylie's softly spoken question and returns the guard's jacket as she prepares to follow the Lady, but they are both detained it seems by the Treasurer's approach.

Emylie drops a deep curtsy to the Treasurer. Rising, she looks at the man, relief painted upon her youthful face. "My Lord is very generous and considerate," she replies. "I will attend you this afternoon at the place of your choosing."

Scaurus nods, tilting his head to the side slightly, "My office, certainly..." he then looks to Caroline for another moment, "Extend us a moment in privacy, Lady Zaug?" he requests deeply, though it doesn't seem like he'll take no for an answer, as he already steps away from the Ginaz woman.

Layard approaches the Lady Zaug in suave stride. His hat rests under his arm, and the red sash of the Imperial Family that he wears seems to match finely with the shades that rest in the morning sky. "Good morning, Lady Zaug."

Caro blinks and nods to Scaurus, "Certainly, Your Excellency...I'll just...um...have a word with Lord...um...." She smiles weakly at Layard, "Um...good morning, My Lord."

Emylie pads obediently after The Treasurer. She looking up at him, her expression patiently questioning.

Fahahd comes from the Reception Foyer.
Fahahd has arrived.

Layard nods to Caro, "Yes. A fine morning isn't it?" He breaths in the clean Kaitainian air. Nothing like the smell of corruption, solaris, and blood. A fond perfume that he has devloped a taste for.

A gesture toward the pain amplifier is followed by Nataliya's answer of, "I do not know, Master Galen, beyond that it seems someone was being made an example. And it angered her Imperial Majesty, or displeased. This I could see but more I do not know." If her attire did not brand her Rastanyev, certainly her purring accent would do so neatly enough.

Scaurus leans in, murmuring to Emylie, his face impassive and serious, though that isn't unusual for the Treasurer.

The Harkonnen guard returns after some little while, having exchanged his set of texts for a new book, a packet of musical scores, and...a little girl? For balanced on his hip is a pre-school aged child, babbling happily and brandishing a stuffed Laza tiger.

Caro seems relieved by the rote pleasantries, life returning to normal, at least normal as she prefers it, "Yes, a fine morning...as a matter of fact, I'm happy to have run into you, My Lord. I had something I wished to...discuss?"

Scaurus whispers: Let us hope that despite these difficulties that we have begun with, our relationship may be a mutually friendly one. Your apology is most graciously accepted, and I do hope that we should put this matter behind us. As a Lady and a Lord should, given that our House is one and the same.

Layard ahhs, "Well then perhaps we should go somewhere private, to discuss these matters?"

"Ahh yes I see. How...interesting...... Say, have you yet be formally introduced to her Imperial Majesty since your arrival on Kaitain?" He seems decided bored by the prentenses surounding an perfectly normal torture session. Pomp and blood seem to elicit little in the way of awe or even respect from the callous Mentat.

The fleshy golem of armor and swords remains where he stands continueing to savor the air. The nose tests the air like wolf would test the fresh snow for blood. There is no mistaken that his man is a Sardaukar, a rare sight indeed.
Caro nods, "Please, just until Lady Emylie is finished with His Excellency."

Fahahd's return garners some attention from Nataliya but only until Galen mentions introduction to the Empress. "Nyet," she answers immediately and with a vague implication of panic, "I have not. She is...she has too many things to do that are more important than the meeting of a countess of a House Minor."

Layard nods, gesturing to the Palace for enterance.

Kainin scratches the back of his head. Noticing the gaze of Nataliya, (and over hearing her comment,) he turns his head to the ground and coughs, embarrased from last night.

Caro follows Layard to the Palace entrance, happy to be leaving the Green behind.

Galen smiles, "Well then that is something we shall need to remedy. I believe I saw her enter the Imperial Conservatory. Perhaps, if you would care to join me I can arrange for you to be introduced this very moment?"

Layard passes the Grand Entrance.
Layard has left.

Caro passes the Grand Entrance.
Caro has left.

Emylie steps back, reasessing the Treasurer. "My Lord is too kind," she murmurs demurely. "Bygones."

Nataliya swallows and mumbles, "Now her Imperial Majesty may be occupied, perhaps resting." Stall, stall, stall.

Fahahd shifts the girl into a piggyback carry, and heads across the green at a swift jog. She squeals with delight, and points at the entrance to the Conservatory, before beginning a long, involved story about the monsters that apparently dwell in her closet.

Scaurus raises a brow slightly, then inclines his head, speaking with more politeness than usual, "Indeed. I shall see you this afternoon, enjoy your time with the Lady Zaug." He pauses, pursing his lips, then nods, more to himself than anyone else, and turns to leave. The squeal from the girl catches the attention of the Treasurer, and he watches Fahahd for a moment, licking his lips. They do have nice morsels, the Harkonnen.

Fahahd walks to the and passes through the Glass Doors.
Fahahd has left.

Galen says, "Now, your ladyship, there is nothing to be nervous about. I assure you that her Imperial Majesty will be delighted to meet you. However, I do not wish to pressure you unnecessarily."

Emylie curtsies to the Treasurer. Turning on her heel, she departs the green head held high, shoulders set determinedly as the sun rises higher in the sky burning off the last of the morning dew.