#oooo she gettin' maaaaaad

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance Debrief snippet #1 (no edits)

Valaria leaned forward on her podium. “I would make an inquiry.”

Islanzadí didn’t even look up from her papers. “Proceed, Lady Valaria of Kírtan.”

Arya bowed slightly to the elf woman, a dip of her head and smooth hunch of her shoulders before settling back into At Ease. 

“As always, I thank you for your service, Arya.” Valaria shuffled her notes, picking one sheet out from the pile. “I do have some questions for you, regarding the vigilance of you and your companions on the night of the ambush.”

The combat liaison bit her tongue, literally this time, before she spoke. That anyone would question her, Glen and Fäolin’s attention to detail and defenses while protecting Saphira’s egg of all things, felt insulting. The ambush was orchestrated by a Shade, a that was working off intel no one but Arya and a handful of others could have known. “Vigilance, ma’am?

“Yes.” The drawl that dragged at the end of the lady’s voice made Arya’s skin crawl, static racing up the nearly exposed muscle that striped up to her shoulder. The elder looked down her nose. “There have been some rumors, you see.”

Arya’s lip twitched, barely a microsecond. “I would appreciate a direct question, ma’am.”

“Very well.” Valaria nodded to two of the lords across from her, as if asking for permission. Arya didn’t look to them. “Are, or were, you engaging in relations with either of your guards?”

A low murmur swept the room. Däthedr raised his hand, and silence fell, though the uneasy rustle of elves shifting foot to foot took another moment to abate. 

Arya simply raised her chin. “Permission to speak freely?”

Däthedr regarded her for a long second, considering. “Granted.”

The young elf leveled her deadpan gaze on Valaria. She almost hoped the roiling rage in her chest was visible, if only slightly, to the woman. 

“Are you calling me a whore, ma’am?”

A poorly stifled snort of laughter. Whoever it was from got a sharp glare of reprimand from Islanzadí’s second. 

The corners of Valaria’s lips tilted up in dry amusement. “Polyamory does not bring shame, ambassador.” 

“That is not an answer to my question, ma’am.” Arya’s eyes flashed and narrowed, only for the briefest of moments. It was time to light the fires again, remind these highborn fools who they dealt with. “And my rank is Major. I would appreciate that my accomplishments be properly acknowledged.”

The amusement vanished from Valaria’s face, cool frost replacing it in her voice. “No, Major. I do not seek to imply that you are, as you put it, a whore.”

“Then why this line of inquiry?”