The Red Crown of Eshan
Throneworld, a place where Mercy had parked herself to rule with her eldritch fist. The thought made Quinn roll her eyes as lately everything the Knave did irritated her to no end. Every little thing, down to taking a breath, made Quinn's stomach twist in ways she wished it didn't. The feelings were too similar, too close to how she felt before leaving for the academy.
As the Echani shuttle settled into port, Quinn gathered up the dark robes. If the visit had any other meaning or had another purpose, she wouldn't look so official. Remembering the comment about her attire back at the club made the girl's pale ears redden, flush from the predatory gaze. The attention, she wanted all of it and hated having to share it.
Quinn moved quietly as she was guided towards where Mercy would be waiting. As she walked, her eyes would look towards the large windows, showing space and the planet below. It seemed Mercy was too good to rule just the essential core world; she needed to loom over it like a god.
"Typical," she murmured to herself, remembering the conversations they had shared and the teasing she received. Quinn had always wanted to rule, to be someone to lead a people. Mercy, on the other hand, seemed to have no interest, often poking fun at the younger Echani. And yet, even after asking for the woman's help, she had become Empress, and Quinn was left wanting.
The thought alone infuriated her.
Arriving at where she assumed Mercy would be waiting, the graspborn… or guards would part, leaving her to walk through the opening doors. It was silent for the most part, in such a way Quinn wasn't used to when around Mercy. Perhaps they had grown differently, Mercy finally finding herself useful as a leader or warlord… as she often preferred to be called.
As she walked, Quinn remembered fondly (which also annoyed her) the quiet moments they had shared, even the last time she had seen Mercy before leaving for the academy.
Mercy knew everything about her; if she remembered it was another story.
The mountain of a woman had been a figure in her life for as long as Quinn could remember, a forever-lasting symbol of her mother's frustration and quiet longing for a semblance of attention.
Quinn hated it, but she also reveled in it.
"Surprised, I was actually able to find you alone." Quinn frowned, scolding herself as she didn't want to sound as annoyed as she felt. Even if she tried to hide it. Mercy could read body language to the smallest twitch of a muscle. She was as much of an Echani as Quinn was.
"I'm mad at you, I hope you know that. You're acting just like Ashin, you —"
Remembering her manners, a lesson the Knave had reminded her of. In proper reverence, the Echani bowed her head, cursing under her breath and fighting back whatever tears clung to the ends of her lashes.
They didn't fall; they would linger, but never fall.
"Congratulations on your conquering of the Core…"