The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Your wife, and superior."

[Zevran]

"Fuck that," Zevran snarls, pulling away from her a bit. "She was never my wife and absolutely not my superior. She enslaved me, tortured and abused me. She was never my better and never worthy of respect or loyalty."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Nonsense. We freed you."

[Zevran]

"You wanted to free me. She never did. I was not allowed to leave, I was given no choice about our marriage, my meals, my clothes, my activities; they were all limited or outright proscribed for me. It was from from the worst term of enslavement I have suffered, even the ending, but silk chains are still chains."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"That is just how marriage is in Alessa, and among the Drow. I was no more free to choose for myself, and I was the secondary wife. It is no insult."

[Claudia Emerison]

"Umm. Well. I mean... drow marriage is slavery? Just kind of went over this?" Claudia shakes her head. "And doesn't sound like Alessia is much better if what you're saying is true and all."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"This is very far off the topic, and I am still quite tired," She says firmly. "Anything else I need to know about tonight?"

[Claudia Emerison]

"You brought it up," Claudia mutters but shakes her head even as she says it. "Not that I can think of."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Then, let us get some more sleep, and deal with the rest in the morning."

[Zevran]

"Very well," Zevran says, voice a little tight. "Perhaps some sleep will... be of benefit."

[NPCs]

Sleep does bring the benefit of rest, but does little to settle the disagreement. It doesn't help that Coquette is off shortly after breakfast for the first of her long delayed 'lessons' with Tenachka. One-on-one lessons, in private. In the Matriarch's personal library in fact, behind a warded door. The tension of the meeting isn't helped by Zevran not going out of his way to escort her as close as the guards will allow him, as he normally would. He does have an appointment of his own, true, but Coquette can't help but feel he'd have squeezed it in were things between them less fraught.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Cindy nurses her hurt as Noire pilots them to Tenachka's, internally spewing nonsense about how he's only a male, intending to be comforting but honestly making it worse. So they're quite distracted as they knock on Tenachka's door. 

[NPCs]

The inside of Feythal's study-- as the elaborate writing desk, drafting table and lush divan along the left wall would make it more a study than a library, at least to Coquette's standards-- is pretty much what the merikos drow has come to expect of the upper echelons of the Enclave. Lots of leather, though in this case it's reptile hide instead of the almost bovinesqe, three hundred pound rodents that supplies the bulk of the leather and red meat for drow. The desk is actually wood, less a luxury these days but it carries a sense of age that implies it predates their move towards the surface and thus speaks of established wealth and privilege. Despite the availibty of paper nowadays, all of what Coquette can see in her initial, rapid scan of the room appears to be made from the old-fashioned counterpart: thinly shaved and compressed mushroom stalk. Lighting, not always a given in the Enclave, comes from scores of small glowing orbs set into the ceiling, the pattern familiar to Coquette but just out of memory's reach. 

Tenachka is waiting patiently at the desk, idly flipping through a book. She's wearing a body suit that must be made of liquid leather with out tightly it clings to her form and is resting her chin on a fist as she reads. She doesn't look up at Coquette enters, but she does call out in a low, almost welcoming voice, "Missus Coquette, I'm glad you were able to make our appointment, particularly given that I asked a dear friend to help with any gnomish aspects of your lessons." 

Attention shifted by the implication, it only takes another second or two to spot Tenachka's friend; a young gnomish woman is laying half-under the drafting table. She's wearing a nice dress with underskirts, fancy without being formal, that gives her a professional, modest air. Or it would, if it weren't bunched up around her waist to reveal her freshly fucked ass. The gnome is still trembling, eyes glazed with aftershocks, but she's aware enough to realize someone has entered and is trying to push her clothes back into place with flustered, embarrassed movements.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Noire executes a flawless curtsey, her eyes skimming over the gnome as though they were part of the furniture. "Of course. I am pleased to receive such lessons from such an esteemed companion to the Matriarch." Despite Tenachka's clearly being a servant of some kind, she seems to have settled on the proximity to the Matriarch being more important than her theoretical place in the pecking order. 

[NPCs]

"Oh?" She draws the word out, adding a hint of suggestive undertone that never reaches the point where it'd be undeniable. "Why, I'm deeply flattered, Missus Coquette! I must confess that I had thought you had something of a poor opinion of me."