The crowd began to applaud as Jularra finished.
“I thank you. Our people thank you. And now, I need another drink!”
The noise from the crowd tore into the air, going from a simple shout to a muffled explosion of sound, causing Jularra to grimace in exaggerated discomfort. It wasn’t enough to deter her from finishing her mug, however. She finished it off and whipped around for another refill. While her cup was being tended to, the cheering started to revert back to dozens of individual conversations.
Jularra picked up her refill, but held it closely. She had already had enough to get the evening started and wanted to take a moment to soak in the scene around her. She hadn’t seen such smiles or heard such laughter in recent times. The pride of her people was always present, and the strength in their blood and history was always honed and ready, but an uncertainty had been weighing on them all. Their future had been unclear, and the hope of securing that future had begun to slip from their grasp. But on this night, the dying embers of that hope had been stoked.
Her Bedrock and Spire officers radiated confidence as they strode around the courtyard. Their continued rigorous training throughout the years of peace and stagnation had served them well. Jularra was relieved to know that their readiness and expertise had been refreshed, and though she had no immediate idea of when they might be tested again, they had carried out this invasion on their terms, and with their plans. It was a success.
There is no better way to keep a culture’s warriors in shape, physically as well as tactically, than to fight. And fight we did.
The Acorilinian lords still in the city, obviously following up on the performance of whatever military elements they provided, were more active with their journey through the crowd. Jularra easily distinguished them from the rest of the gathering, with Latham and Maccail doing most of the waving and beckoning. Jularra swayed backwards with a chuckle as she watched them maneuver and negotiate their next political arrangement.
The remainder—and largest portion—of the throng was made up of aristocrats of varying location, nobility, and station. Some were prominent, native members of Torgurian society, who had personally and financially escaped the more violent aspect of the invasion relatively unscathed, for a variety of reasons. They would, of course, secure their own continued prosperity by providing Jularra with valuable intelligence, along with the promise of future co-operation.
The rest of the aristocracy in attendance were from Acorilan, and had traveled to align with those involved with the invasion and secure for themselves an early foothold of influence in Brinnock. Jularra loved the politicking, intrigue, and every sight, smell, and sound around her. It was a scene of victory with the predator relishing the spoils of war—spoils that she knew would benefit her people, and not just those there on that night.
Jularra’s peaceful reflection did not last long. Every member of the crowd wanted a few moments with her individually, to share congratulations and offerings of respect. Most were people she interacted with on a routine basis and knew not to waste her time, much less with politics or a request for an audience with ulterior motives. She wouldn’t abide that. They could trade favors and bicker with each other, but not with Jularra.
The queen stepped away from the kegs and strolled into the crowd in an effort to break up the small talk. She enjoyed and appreciated the well-wishes and congratulations, but she had to give her mind a break. As with all other things, Jularra had invested as much of her mental capacity as she could into the siege of Brinnock. She had a hand in the strategy, the organization, the deployment, the battle’s actual tactics, as well as selling the plan to any doubtful lords, advisors, and her people. There was no longer any immediate need for her input, and she sought to clear her mind of everything—including idle conversations. She continued to meander through the crowd, giving cordial but dismissive acknowledgment to those who sought her attention. She quickened her pace, appearing as if she was making for a particular destination in the courtyard, or for a particular person. No one dared delay the queen.
She reached her intended target: a platform with a musical ensemble. The musicians were full of life, bouncing their heads and knees as they played a fast folk tune native to Torguria.
They had just reached the loudest part of the piece. Jularra stepped closer to the group and lost the volume of the crowd in the volume of the musicians. She lowered herself to one knee and focused peacefully within the group’s blanket of sound. One of the lute players caught sight of the queen and immediately struck a sour note. Jularra laughed and held out her hand to reassure the musician. Ever the professional, the musician didn't stop playing and returned the queen’s smile before continuing the melody with renewed enthusiasm.
The two drummers, along with the stomping feet of the rest of the ensemble, pounded the beat into the queen’s heart. It wasn’t enough. She wanted to be closer to the music. She wanted to be inside the rhythm. She lowered her head until her chin touched her chest. She felt
