[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

The queen sat perched lightly on a low black stool in her dressing room, with Habeth behind her pulling the stiff brush gently through the queen's tangled hair. An elaborate silver gown had been pulled from the back of the wardrobe and pressed for the dinner that the King was nearly certain to summon her to that evening. Miaama looked at the dress with disgust. Frills everywhere, and made in the very latest style. How degrading for her poor mistress to have to dress up in that lighthearted garment when she was so obviously miserable.

The cat flap opened wide and Arye entered, a smug look on his black face. I caught him, I caught him, I found him first... came the thought in a singsong tone. Miaama smiled indulgently at the young cat's enthusiasm, and sure enough, the door pushed open to reveal one of the King's pages just a few steps behind the feline herald.

Making an elaborate bow, the boy delivered his message, his words precise and studied. "My Lady Beruthiel, His Majesty King Falastur requests your presence at a welcoming dinner for his nephew and Heir, Prince Earnil. It shall be a private affair, with only the family and a few members of court present. What message shall I take His Majesty?"

Miaama snarled with irritation. Her Mistress was tired, her Mistress was unwell. These human creatures, how dare they meddle in her Mistress's private affairs? But the queen rose from her seat as Habeth stepped back deferentially. "You may tell His Majesty that, though it brings her no pleasure, Her Royal Highness Queen Beruthiel will be in attendance at his dinner, along with the Lady Morwen. Now go." She waved one hand at the boy in a condescending manner as he made another sweeping bow. Miaama sniffed. Curious the custom of humans, that their fine words covered their hatred with sugar.

Stalking through the cat flap and into the hallway, Miaama let out a low gutteral sound. Halfway between a growl and a purr, it was a menacing sound, a sound that conveyed her great displeasure at the fact of the Heir's escape. Tonight she would go, then, while the Mistress was busy with her husband's family. It would be safe for her to leave long enough to deliver her message, her message of contempt for the worthless human who had agreed to deal with this "prince", but then let it escape. She glanced back at Beruthiel's apartments nervously. She knew that the Queen relied on her to translate for the others, but she'd had no idea the effect her absence would have on the Mistress. She barely dared leave the palace grounds again, for fear that she might notice and be afraid. But it must be done. This man could not be allowed to let Earnil escape a second time. She must impress upon him the seriousness of this mission, and she must do it in person.

Yawla? Arye? She called the cats in her mind, one from each group, so hopefully their absence would be less noticeable. Tonight we shall go, next time we must succeed. Two black figures slipped carefully through the cat flap. Two voices of assent cutting through the silent air.

[ August 04, 2003: Message edited by: Sophia the Thunder Mistress ]