Woman with beauty that knows no limits and common sense that is little to zero. She'd always been on your nerves, and you never understood why the late Emperor took a liking to her and her stupidity.
No matter the circumstance, she'd take her son's side, even if it means pushing a helpless child into a pond and running away, leaving her to drown.
You stand beside Latille as she looks down at the pitiful woman, "It's nice to see you Anaktcha. You remind me of when I was a child." She starts with a bubbly bright attitude, a contrast to the atmosphere if the prison cell.
The older woman sits on the floor, skin dirty and unwashed, thinned to the bone and voice hoarse as she speaks, "You're right. Seeing you reminds me of the better times. As I remember it, you were sly and twisted, even as a little child, your Highness." she smirks, forming wrinkles as her blue eyes turn cold.
It takes everything within you not to pull out the dagger by your waist and neatly cut her head off.
"There are only two Emperors I acknowledge...Your father, and my son!!" She dramatically exclaims as you inwardly sighed.
'Okay. It's not like the whole empire is going to put Latille down as the Emperor just because of your insignificant opinion.' you roll your eyes, crossing your arms and shifting your weight to one foot.
"Being an Emperor has taught me much about letting go of the silly little things in life." The ravenette sighs, "When I was young, I'd tremble with anger whenever you'd say such terrible things to me. But now, all I feel is pity towards you. You're just drowning in your own hatred of me. You lash out because that's all you know." Latille continues before laughing aloud, throwing her head back.
Her laughter continues to echo around the room as she begins to tone down, howling lowering into a snicker, "whew! So, why did you request an audience with me?"
"My son...where is my son?"
You perk up at her question. Has she not heard that her son was executed?
Latille goes quiet before answering, "your son is dead. I had him executed as soon as I was seated as the Emperor." She hums as if it was joyful celebration-it really is a joyful celebration.
You stare at the pink haired mother, feasting on the sorrowed and soul crushed look plastered on her wrinkled and dirtied face.
"No, that can't be..! How could you!? Thula is my son, he's your brother!"
You inwardly scoff in disbelief. Although she was Thula's mother and Latille's half parent, the only child she has ever cared about was her biological pink pig.
"He was your son, but he was never a brother to me. He tried to kill me and steal what was rightfully mine."
"You..!"
"You made my mother's heart bleed." The Emperor's eyes scowl into a glare, years and years of repressed hatred and anger buried deep beneath those black hued pupils.
"You vile thing! How could you kill your own brother!?" Anaktcha shrieks, gripping the bars and violently pushes, alerting the guards that stood around Latille. "If Thula had become Emperor, he would never have had you executed!!"
"He was foolish enough to destroy the loyalty he had with your husband and had him murdered in cold blood. What makes you think piggy would have left her alive?" You interrupt, no longer able to hold your tongue.
"My Thula is no cold-blooded monster like any of you!!" she counters, pupil dilated in delusion.
"Oh, Anaktcha. I am not a cold-blooded monster in my mother's eyes either." Latille chuckles, gritting her teeth when the pinkie spits on her face.
Before another breath is taken, you draw the dagger from the strap on your thighs, both your blade and Sir Sonnaught's sword pointing directly at Anaktcha's throat. "Traitors! You were his Majesty's knight," she turns to glare at you, "and he saw you as his own daughter! He saved you from those insane cults! And you two had a hand in his most beloved son's death!! You vile disgusting things!"
Chuckling, you retract the dagger, sheathing it back before kneeling to whisper directly in her ear, "Did you know His Majesty's oh, most beloved son also killed our late Emperor?" Her eyes widen, "No! Thula wouldn't!-"
"Of course he wouldn't Anaktcha. Only in your own pitiful, delusional world he wouldn't." Standing up, you turn back to Latille, "well your Majesty, I think she's done with her oinking. Let's head back."
"You vile, cold-blooded, murderer! -"
"Oh, yes I am vile, alright. So vile that I wouldn't even blink if you starved yourself to death. So don't bother trying that again"
You grin, walking alongside them as they continue to the exit, not bothering to turn to the woman as she speaks.
"You think you've won don't you!? One day...you will be betrayed by the one you trust most. Mark my words, Latrasil. This is no curse, I speak only the truth. Remember my words...as you weep on the day of your betrayal!"
You stare at her, stopping in your tracks before sighing, "Soul as dark was the shadow of the moon, words as wicked as the sword that pierced Goddess Gaia's heart, with the price of my flesh shall I take this curse in her stead."
by now, Latille and the others are too far to hear what you've said, good for you.
"( y/n ), are you coming along?"
"Ah, sorry got lost in mind!"
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It's a day after Anaktcha's outburst, and Her Majesty has decided to walk around town undercover, hoping to have interesting encounters with her future consorts.
You, and a few others, are tasked to make a scene and cause disturbance to the one and only heir of a rich trading company.
Dressed in commoners clothes, eyes shielded with a pair of round glasses and hair tied into a messy style, you trail Emperor Latille and Sir Sonnaught, a loose bag of scrolls in hand.
You're lead to Hotel Grandier, known to be one of the most luxurious Hotels in the Capital. Renting a room could bury deep holes into your pocket, even as a noble. And to think that Tasir had rented half of it for himself and his retinue made you feel a tad bit poorer.
