Enma smiled, as of course it's going to be recorded and chances are, even get intercepted along the way by either gallic traitors or kusrians. It is a risk that she did not quite want to take despite freighter that escorted brought Claire and supplies is not coming up on comms either and seem to be missing. While Loyola has the slightest hope that Claire won't do anything stupid, she most likely will.
— Lynxes? My --- Do you really expect -- Alright, that complicates things. Sure we have some trophies, but as you can expect these ships are not really in the best technical conditions and Gallic technology is --
En cringed a little, knowing that she's picking the wrong word, but she goes for it anyway.
— Weird? For our engineers it's always a pain to work with anything Gallic, starting from engines and ending with electronics. It's all alien. We sure have some friends in Gallia, but they are usually criminals and turn out to be not very smart to actually help with this. I sure will give orders, and surely someone will manage to tinker with it but do not expect it to function exactly like Lynx you got used to. It is most likely to be reassembled and turned out to be one of our craft inside of the Lynx' frame, that's if we are looking for fast solutions.
She would then stare at her phone in Charlotte's hands and then started to doubt what she was doing, for what it's worth, her own behavior is not very rational. Loyola takes a pause to look down at the table before raising her eyes at Charlotte again. Can she really be trusted? Of course, she can't be, then why? Enma then feels like she's simply losing control over herself, her head is making a short nod towards the princess.
— Right, the private call? Sure, shall I leave the room or you will?
Her hand just slides on the table's surface as she sighs, this doesn't feel right at all.
Midway through Enma's explanatory diatribe, Charlotte raised a hand to wave her off.
"I was simply asking," she said. "I'll fly a Sirian craft as soon as I will a Gallic one; I just thought one might have survived these couple of years in storage. Don't trouble yourself overmuch on my account."
Turning away slightly from Enma, her gaze flickered towards the doorway. Perhaps a short walk through the mansion during her communiqué would do her good.
"I'll go. Don't let me disturb you." Charlotte fancied she could see the very beginnings of doubt beginning to cloud the Maltese woman's eyes, and she had no intention of allowing that doubt to fester -- at least not until it was too late for any arrangements to be backed out of. Besides, the second the call was outbound to her sister, at least someone would know for certain that she was still alive. That, in itself, would count for something, even if things took a vicious and unexpected turn.
The princess wasted no time beyond that; she moved towards the doorway without another word, stepping through into the hallway and considering the tiny communicator still held in her hand. What would she say? How would she even begin? What did one even say after over two years of incarceration -- maybe even presumed death?
It took her a few seconds more to compose herself enough to begin recording her message. The subspace link wasn't strong enough to initiate a live call, but at least this way Claire would eventually be able to hear her out. She took a shaky breath, then began to speak.
Loyola observed Charlotte's moves, it still looks like she's slightly paranoid and not quite trusting her, despite her doing almost everything princess wanted at this point. Normally she would wait with her pocket device that she's quite addicted to, but now it's been carried away for some private communications and Enma is left alone in the room without any entertainment. Beautiful snowfall behind the window is only making it worse for some reason, poor Charlotte actually, Enma did not realize how sad this mountain area can look.
— Oh well...
She said sighing, taking a glance at the door Charlotte went through, biting the back of her cheek to make it painful, it usually helps to clear out the thoughts. It did not this time and the only thing she manages to cause is small bleeding. Failure. Loyola is slowly losing track of time too since her phone is not there. It almost felt like forever, since the thoughts of Charlotte already plotting behind her back are already knocking up her head. Now would that really be a betrayal? That would be really sad that's for sure, hopefully, DeFrance brood knows what thankfulness means. Enma knows she couldn't take any more failures since her political biography is just a chain of failures and how only success happened because she stood against literal idiots.
Enma then sighs once more, now in a somewhat relaxing manner as warm thoughts flowing into her head and imagination now. She's glad that paranoid thoughts are passing by being replaced with something else. Closing her eyes, extending on the chair, Enma is slowly pushing her hand into her pants and closing her eyes. Still listening to environmental sounds, Outcasts starts to breath deeper, her heartbeat increases, as tongue runs along her dry lips.
These moments felt like forever, and while Enma got busy with herself, Charlotte is supposedly getting enough time to say everything she needs to say.
To Enma, the few minutes Charlotte took to compose and send her message might have seemed like an eternity. For the Charlotte herself, it wasn't too bad, although she felt a little foolish at how little she'd truly said. Would it even reach Claire in any good time? She wasn't sure.
"Fuck," she said, her gaze downcast to the communicator cradled in one hand. It would burn a constant hole in her psyche until she felt it buzz with a reply -- that much she knew, niggling and worrying at her with indecision and paralysis until then. Her sister was the one anchor she had to her old life, if what Enma said was true -- the Kingdom itself was gone, and she'd scarcely come to know anyone outside her immediate family beyond those who were already dead and Claire herself. If she didn't get a reply back, she would be truly alone. The thought left a little shiver down her spine -- the future did not look good for an isolated, lone Gallic noble in a future where all her titles had turned to dust overnight, particularly not one addicted to the Maltese leash that was Cardamine and with the enigmatic, manipulative Loyola taking a personal interest in her. Hopefully, this was a storm she could weather.
Eventually, though, she broke somewhat free of her reverie, turning on her heel again and pushing her way back through into the previous room. Loyola was still lounging in the chair from before, her blonde hair hanging down over her closed eyes, lending her an air of tranquility. Charlotte almost felt bad for disturbing her, but needs must. She coughed once.
"It's out," she said. "I don't know when or if we'll get a reply, but if she still has the address coded into that device, I imagine we can expect a reply in a matter of hours at most."I hope. Please, Claire. Her mood seemed to have lifted just a little with the comm now out in the open, but the unease inside her hadn't entirely disappeared. If anything, Charlotte had only grown a little more full of nervousness and anticipation -- if Claire didn't reply to her at all, then she would need to forge her own path; one which Loyola was sure to want more than a guiding hand in.
Loyola shakes a little as she hears a cough and the Charlotte speaking. What the hell? She returned back almost instantly, just as she was to have a little fun. Ah, come on -- she said to herself, sighing in annoyance and placing her hand back at the table. En even gets a little angry, as Charlotte did not align with her plan, not allowing her to relax. Anger would spark in her eyes, she even bares her teeth for a short moment. Realizing that it's not rational. she still needs some moments of internal struggle to say something reasonable, because at first, she felt like she's about to just bark or something. She seems to forget that Charlotte is still an actual princess, taking her for what she is without titles. That is a refreshing line of thinking.
Enma is fixing her posture in that chair, attempting to blow her blonde hair off her face. It did not quite work so she had to use her hands to get things in order, to a degree where to hair could be brought to order in the first place, of course. She is, still, slightly annoyed and Charlotte will sure feel it. Enma really wanted to avoid any sort of mental terror when it comes to Charlotte. Outcasts have elaborated a wide arsenal of mental tortures to break and control wide masses of the slave population. Sometimes she thought that it would be interesting to morally break someone like Charlotte too, but that would be a pity as she admired that royal spirit that princess kept no matter the odds.
— Oh, really? That's disappointing. I thought you would take your time to set up some proper conspiracy behind my back or at least read transcripts of my comms and personal notes. -- I am giving you the opportunities, what's wrong with you? Even Claire seemed to be brave enough to deal with people escorting her and run away, even though she seems to be much less capable than you.
Outcast noble is raising her eyebrows in question.
— Weird.
Loyola then rubs chin with her thumb, looking into the corner seems to be thinking of something. Then rapidly switching her look at Charlotte, she must be a little surprised with this, Enma seems still to be annoyed and her mood just keeps shifting like crazy.
— Yeah and come on in, I just offered you to rule the goddamn place, sure you don't have to ask for permission. I captured a princess, behave like one. Are you still afraid of me or something? If I wanted to do any harm, I had three fuсking years to do so. Three years. Do I really look that patient enough to hold up with pleasure to torture DeFrance person for so long? I sure don't want you to call me a sniffer or something like that, you surely would do that in normal conditions. But stop looking that victim that is about to get beheaded, alright?
The after effects of the outbound comm were still resonating with Charlotte, her attention only half on Enma herself as her mind continued to race. The vicious gaze shot her way was pretty much missed as the princess's own stare slipped over to the window instead, full of concern for her immediate future. Until the handheld device buzzed again with news directly from Claire, she knew the nausea in her abdomen would only continue to build.
"Huh?" she said eventually, her reverie interrupted by the first burst of sarcasm that came winding her way. The blatant hostility had been entirely unexpected, and it took her a few seconds to process why exactly Enma might be so annoyed at her all of a sudden. The implication that she should be actively pushing back against the Dona's seeming generosity and lenience took her a little by surprise -- as if this was all some sort of test of her mettle. It annoyed her more than it did anything else, stoking a fear that had all but disappeared in the wake of this new concern about Claire; the idea that this might all be some sort of grand game on Loyola's part, with her as an unwitting pawn in the middle of it. Fear and anger were never a combination that worked well for Charlotte, and now was no exception.
"I'm worried about my sister," she spat, whirling on Enma with an incensed expression. "I couldn't care less about your personal comings-and-goings -- the internal politicking of this rock is never something I've cared to try to have a stake in -- so no, you're right. I didn't bother taking my time to sift through your extensive library of social media. If that makes me some kind of disappointment to you, then so be it."
Her fury began to quell itself just after reaching its peak, another note of caution inserting itself back into her demeanour. The Maltese woman was as changeable as the Orléans springtime weather; for all this talk of behaving like a princess, one burst of temerity too much and she could find herself regretting it. Her charisma was all the power she had here -- everything else, her bloodline included, only made her more valuable as glorified property rather than lending her any air of true authority.
"I am of course very grateful for your manner of treating me so far," came Charlotte's eventual acquiescence. "I'm quite certain you don't plan on beheading me in the immediate future." The smile she gave just afterwards was brief, but somehow managed not to look too forced.
This rock? That was painful to hear, so much so that Loyola would almost open hee lips to interrupt Charlotte and make her stop. Loyola is not an idiot and the realization that the value of Malta for the Outcasts and Cardamine addicts is one thing, for people who aren't it's indeed just a remote rock in the middle of nowhere. But this is about something else, about the neglect of her status as Donna, achievements and what she's able to give. It was stunning and elegant at the same time, Loyola will give her that.
The question now is how to react, it would be weird to call her out on this and En just asked her highness to be herself. And she enjoys watching and experiencing it. Leaving something like this without an answer, on the other hand, would showcase her weakness openly, and naturally, that's not something that is allowed to happen. She shakes her head slightly, trying to refresh herself as she's becoming sleepy and might lose sharpness and initiative in this conversation.
— Rock... You will suffer greatly if something happens to it. That's why I thought that it would be a good idea to get one of the royals tied to it so we could assure the safety of this place back when the Royal Navy was a threat. This, of course, was before I got to know you and later Claire as persons since then my motivations have changed, not counting whole new political situation in Gallia, even. As for local politics, I thought to offer that you take a position in accordance with your status. After Gallia it doesn't seem to be too attractive, I understand that, but it's better than nothing.
She now sounds much more casual and relaxed, if it was to be a trick, she does it way too believable. She slightly ruffles her own hair with the left hand, while making a long sigh, that even sounds somewhat painful. She then clears her throat, it seems that it's not easy for her to bring back on track of this conversation.
— Anyway, the offer is always going to be on the table as long as I am having real power to back it. Which might not always be the case, Malta is the place where powers are being shifted quite often.--
She would break for a short, maybe a little desperate laughter.
— You still sound too careful though, do you still think that I am playing some games? You are smart there, I suppose, being too careful in your situation would not harm whatsoever. I am more of an idiot here. As for your sister, don't worry, I already promised that things will be done in that direction. I understand that you are being worried, but don't let that feeling overflow you, it won't be any productive.-- I have one question though, how do you see the future of DeFrance succession if his Majesty never comes back and this regent keep usurping power? -- I am just curious if you don't have any ambitions here, would you have them elsewhere?
Charlotte's mouth opened as if to reply, but the communicator beeping in her hand cut all thoughts of a verbal response off. She nearly dropped it in her haste to answer the call, allowing the audio itself to play through the device's tiny speaker. The tension in her frame melted away in an instant from the very first syllable; that was Claire, she was sure of it -- the sister whose voice she hadn't heard in years. Part of her felt like crying, another part felt like jumping for joy, but it was in the nature of any well brought-up Gallic scion to maintain some manner of decorum. Instead, she only allowed herself a shaky smile as Claire's voice spoke on and on, occasionalyl muffled by klaxons and the noise of intense activity in the background.
The message was not long, and soon the communicator clicked off in her hand with a strident beep, leaving Charlotte alone once more. The indecisiveness from earlier had already started to fade, and it only took her a scant few seconds of thought to round on Loyola once more.
"The Hebrides," she muttered, looking through Loyola rather than directly at her. "Closer than I had anticipated. I -- or we -- must go there at once -- as soon as it is safe and prudent to leave. I need to rendezvous with Claire and the Belisama."
Her manner of speaking had iced up somewhat further, her tone more strained and urgent than ever before. She had briefly relaxed, forgetting about her own situation in light of Claire's own becoming clear, but now that she remembered herself the tense, uncertain energy was back. This woman still held the key to her immediate future in one hand, a fact she found infuriating and very, very dangerous in equal measure.
Spends a long moment silent, she has to make a choice now. Now with Claire replying she has no room to stall it or dance around it, with Charlotte pressing up more and more firmly. Her own arguments just feel like waves that are crushing against the firm rock, having only insignificant drops in the aftermath. She had no illusions of convincing Charlotte from the start, giving it a shot either way. Worthless. She would expect the royal spirit and resolved to be shaken just a little, but it remained all the same. Beautiful to observe, hard to deal with.
This, of course, conflicts with her own conflicting interests, some of which will have to be sacrificed in order to fulfill the others. Having to deal with a number of dilemmas between the loyalty to her own people and personal desires, deciding if she wants to take a huge risk for possibly no reward, maybe finding her own death on the way, she needs to decide all of this here and now, without making this long pause to last very long. Making numerous wrong decisions in the past, she wasn't brave enough to decide her fate for certain.
Her body language indicates that she's bending under pressure, as she's rubbing her palms. While the tension most of her muscles underclothes are not visible, a certain tension is clearly visible at her face that is now completely frozen and reminds of the pale mask. it eventually starts moving as Loyola finally starts speaking, it sounds to be heavy and not easy for her, but it sounds firm nevertheless and it seems like the doubts are left behind.
— I was at Belisama, this ship is a non-combat-ready husk, it is an easy target. Something heavy is needed to shield and cover it until it gets to the final destination choice. My reputation here is not the best, considering a number of incidents of me appearing hired by um--- Different organizations and ties with Gallia. There's one battlecruiser that will surely follow any order, Buenos Aires.
She wets her dry mouth with saliva, slowing it right after.
— This battlecruiser and few escort fighters are what I can promise to rally at your service and promise their absolute loyalty. I imagine that Claire will not be too happy to see me, she has received a little different treatment than you did. And I imagine that at the Hebrides you two will have more means to make me answer for the things I've done.
Enny's eyes are switching to the window for a moment, seeing that snowfall seems to be over. Things seem to be so calm and simple outside, why did she have to turn her life to this mess.
— I don't know, this might be an elegant way of me suiciding--
She said staring into the window, then turning her gaze at Charlotte again. Her eyes are wild and Charlotte would be right for questioning her sanity. But she seems to be very emotionally invested into what she was saying for it to be some sort of a mind game.
— Or can I hope for mercy?
Asking with a somewhat freaky smile, she seems to be having her way of fun with all of this, or just being desperate with something. It doesn't matter, the sanity and motives of the Outcast bіtch may be interrogated, later on, saving Claire is the only thing that matters now. Loyola was trying to guess what would be happening inside of Charlotte's head. The family comes first, it is something that Outcast noble naturally assumes.