Daavor carefully rolled onto his side and looked at the Queen. She always seemed perfectly ravishing no matter her situation. She raised her eyebrow at him seductively.
"How was your day?" he asked in a low voice.
She sighed. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, my pet." She reached straight for him with no preliminaries. "The only thing I want is your next dream." She readjusted her bed-mate in a commanding way. "What do you have for me?" she breathed in his ear.
Daavor breathing quickened and his eye rolled back into his head. "Anything you want."
"Good." She knew what would to do to make him like putty. "Your dream, dear boy."
It was hard to say anything through the sensations he was feeling. "Michiana and Lanolylc couple t-tonight." He thrashed about a bit but she held him tighter.
She looked at his face, the man writhing between ecstasy and pain. "Daavor, I don't care about a Lady pleasuring herself." It was vaguely good that her high princess was bedding someone besides that Weslyn. He was a cunning man and she didn't trust his motivations at all. "Give me something I can use, my dear man."
His breath was ragged. "I see a dark place with two Matrons plotting..."
She blew gently on his face. "Tell me," she whispered.
Coryn turned as Symantha entered the space. The older woman carried a lantern that only partially lit up a dusty, unused table and its surroundings. "I haven't been here in a long time." She dragged her finger across the table, which made a line in the accumulated dust. "I am not accustomed to being summoned."
"This seemed an appropriate place to meet in secret." Coryn pulled her luxuriant hair back as she was accustomed to doing in her younger years. "I need a favor. I need a potion."
Symantha sighed. "You are the potion-mistress now." She set her lantern on the table and looked at the small bowls and pestles still lying there. "You want something, you can make it yourself, my apprentice."
There was only petulance from the other woman. "You know...," she brushed down her dress, a run-down affair suitable for clandestine activities in the warehouse district. "You know that I was never much good at these things."
"I think 'pathetic' might be a more accurate word. You were never more than another silly delivery wench in all your years serving me."
Coryn narrowed her eyes. "You didn't teach me one really useful thing."
Sym smiled like a cat. "I took you in. I gave you work when you were nothing." She picked up a bowl, sniffed its ancient contents, and then tossed it back on the table. "I elevated you into the Matriarchy."
"I got there on my own merits!" The younger woman huffed, sneezed a cloud of dust, and set her hands primly on her hips.
The older woman snorted. "Merits? I have no idea what you could mean by that. You are still not much more than nothing."
"I have killed for you!" Coryn blurted it out, not sure to be proud or incensed by her service to the Matriarch. "After all the help I gave you, I was hoping you would finally help me."
It wasn't contrite at all, nor grateful, but Sym was willing to assist her sad little acolyte.
"What do you need of me?"
"Yes...," Evette breathed. "Give me more."
Coryn lowered her voice. "I want an elixir that will kill Mullicynda...slowly."
"Ah," the Matriarch breathed out. "You want to destroy your old rival, do you?"
"She threatens the very essence of the Convocation! She would pull down everything that the Matrons have worked for all these years to build. Surely you see that?"
Another derisive snort. "What haughty words," the older woman giggled. "This is your rationalization for getting rid of the woman who stole your investment as a Lady. You told me once that you would be a Duchess today if it hadn't been for the wicked Mulls-tramp." She breathed out derisively. "How could I forget such a lament?"
Coryn seethed and shook her fist like a little girl. "Yes, I want her dead for revenge! To hell with the Convocation or the Matrons, I want that obnoxious woman destroyed!"
Symantha laughed to the full. "Finally," she managed after a moment. "I welcome your candor." She sighed out a great breath. "You brought us to the right place. Yes, I will help you poison Mullicynda."
"Good work, my precious prophet," She said exultantly. "You serve me well." She cast Daavor out of her bed like a dirty garment and he fell to the floor, gasping.
The Queen looked every bit the conqueror on her knees atop her covers, both ravishing and demonic. "I will finally destroy the Matriarchy!"