The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Coquette Blacquin]

"A dozen lashes with a cat-o-nine-tails?"

[NPCs]

"A... cat-o-nine tails," Feythal repeats slowly, a hinted demand for clarification in her voice. "A regional preference?"

"A whip of thin fabric with nine ends," Tenachka answers without looking up. She's forced her arm straight and is clamping her hand down on the break, as if to fuse the bone together. "Most often an unraveled cotton or hemp rope."

Lips pursing, the Matriarch nods slowly. "Twelve such lashes is... not an unreasonable suggestion for the insult. And what would you ask for as reparation for the wound, my pet?" 

Eyes smoldering with malicious lust, Tenachka purrs, "him, as my pet, from sundown to sunup tonight."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Agreed, though I would ask that you return him in a shape in which he can still be useful to me," says Noire, over the clamor of voices in her mind. 

[Zevran]

Zevran's eyes flash open for a split second, shock and betrayal plainly showing before his expression shutters tightly closed.

"Very well," Feythal decides after a few seconds. "Claudia. See my granddaughter to a guest room and ensure she is comfortable. A dressmaker will be by later tonight so that she might be properly attired for lunch. You are all dismissed."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Thank you, Grandmother," says Noire, executing a curtsey. Her face twitches a few times, as though she's struggling to control her emotions, but she says nothing else as she departs behind Claudia. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

That waver continues as they walk back, though she orders a servant to fetch her trunk with a steady tone and even face. When they reach her rooms, she sets about inspecting them, wavering a few times as though she is feeling faint. Finally, when she reaches the lavatory, she drops to her knees, retching into the basin fervently. 

[Claudia Emerison]

"-send for dinner, we'll be staying--" Claudia's voice, coming from the small tea room in the front of the suite falters. "That will be all, thank you. Go." Seconds later, the door opens and closes even as Claudia hurries back to the lavatory. "Coquette? Coquette, what's-- oh. Fuck. Uh." Moving gingerly, Claudia moves to her side and reaches for Coquette's hair to pull the silver locks away from any risk of splash back.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Pregnant," she croaks, but she can't really explain the stream of tears rushing down her face so easily. 

[Claudia Emerison]

Huh? "But it's evening?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Happens. Too much activity. Stress." 

[Claudia Emerison]

Oh, I get it. More 'my condition has worn me down so I react' rather than 'normal course of my condition.' Okay. So. "That sounds horrid," Claudia admit with a wince. "Err, what you're going through, not, uh, the sound you're-- I mean, you do sound bad but--" She cuts off again, scowls darkly, then says firmly, as if reciting, "I'm concerned and want to be supportive even if my anxiety makes my words awkward. How can I help?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

She holds up a finger and retches again, though very little comes up. In fact, not a lot came up overall -- she must not have eaten a lot today. "Sorry," she says, wiping her mouth. "Sorry. I-- that was... it reminded me. She is very much like my ex-wife."

[Claudia Emerison]

Claudia whimpers softly, head snapping around to glance at the door as if expecting the Matriarch to burst through atop a burning devil while dual wielding unholy barbed death-whips. "Heh-heh-heh, okay, maybe not say that sort of thing? Just-- just in case, okay? Oh! But, uh, here," she adds, stretching over to grab a glass from on the sink. "It's mineral water with a dash of salt, honey and, err" don't tell her it comes from slugs, "a kind of zesty sorta flavoring we use because lemons are really expensive. It helps with recovering from sicking up."

[Coquette Blacquin]

Coquette takes a sip, then another longer one once she's sure the taste is fine. "Thank you," she croaks. "I am sorry you had to see... my public face." 

[Claudia Emerison]

See her what? Public face, face for-- oh. Sounds weird in common. "Is that what that was?" the merikos gnome asks quietly, studying her.