Headed by a Snake

The Archbishop had circled around her desk, sitting on its edge in front of Tycondrius. She crossed her long legs while she brandished a sharpened dagger.

She seemed determined to make him feel as unsafe as possible, alone in her presence.

"Tell me why you're here," She said. "And if you say it's to bed me, I will execute you immediately."

Tycon tilted his head, "I suppose that's because you already knew?"

Natalya casually flipped the dagger forward.

Dangerous.

He carefully caught the rotating blade with his thumb and forefinger. Having successfully protected his vulnerable genitals, Tycon then tossed it aside.

The woman followed the blade with her eyes, watching it sink into the wood of her planning table... It marked a certain Ezyrian trade hub.

"Ahem," Tycon cleared his throat. "The Brazen Guard were recently assigned a mission that furthered the agenda of the Snake Cult."

"From the city of Caeruleum?" She placed a finger to her lips. "They had issued a statement damning the Kasydonian guild as heretics."

"Do you believe them, Lady Crucis?" Tycon smirked.

"Do you have any evidence, Ivory Prince?" Natalya rolled her eyes.

"The surviving members of the Brazen Guard Collective, including the members of Athena's Guild Letalis, can testify under a ⌈Zone of Truth⌋."

Natalya shook her head, "You know magic doesn't hold in a lawful trial, especially in Tyrion. You have no heretical relics, there was no reportable structural damage-- you couldn't even bring back any corpses! You have nothing."

Tycon leaned forward. It was a dangerous risk, as he was well within the woman's striking range, "Do you believe *me,* Natalya?"

Natalya leaned back, looking up in thought, "Most of the Senate seems convinced."

"Ridiculous..." Tycon seethed through clenched teeth.

"Despite the reports, there are enough that doubt the Brazen Guard's sudden treachery..." Natalya pursed her lips... "Many have taken sides, allowing me to better separate my allies from my enemies. For that, you have my thanks..."

Tycon raised an eyebrow, "However?"

"However... I need a proper cause in order to act against the city proper. All I have are my suspicions."

"The sword of the Eternal Flame has fallen for less," Tycon offered politely.

"For non-humans and Witches, yes," Natalya clicked her tongue. "It shames me to say, but I need more than that to sentence my people to death."

Tycon placed his hand on his chin... "What do you need from me?"

Natalya smirked as she looked him over.

...He held an impassive gaze, keeping his calm under the Gold-Rank woman's scrutiny. It made him very uncomfortable. Tycon rather preferred being predator than prey.

"I need..." Natalya paused... "Something. Anything. I need physical evidence of Caeruleum's affiliation with the Snake Cult-- even if you have to fabricate it."

"Hmph," Tycon crossed his arms. "How reliable are your Scryers?"

The Archbishop nodded, "Any item you can produce, I can track down their owners in less than a bell."

Scrying magic was considered 'divine guidance,' allowing the Church's sanctified psykers to identify heretics for violent interrogations. That scrying was not considered as heretical as other, less mundane magics, was yet another of the Holy Country's hypocrisies.

"I have something to show you," Tycon averted his gaze. "Something you can crucify me for."

Natalya waved her hand, aglow with magic. The heavy doors to her chambers locked with a suitably heavy bolt.

"I'll have it, then," The woman licked her lips. "Now."

A bead of sweat had formed on Tycon's forehead. Reaching into the lining of his robe, he activated his spatial ring... and removed a small coin.

It was a favor of the Snake Cult. He had earned it from one of their heretical members in the city of Silva.

Natalya's lips curved up in amusement, "I was expecting something... bigger."

"You wound me, Lady Crucis," Tycon rolled his eyes as he held it up between his fingers. "I retrieved this from a heretic. I daresay your Scryers might be able to find similar identifying items."

The woman's eyes lit up, "Oh? So you can use your tools skillfully, despite their shortcomings?"

To accentuate her point, she not-so-subtly brushed her heeled boot against his inner thigh.

Tycon exhaled through his nostrils, "Your assistance with the matter is imperative."

"Of course~" Natalya cooed, "Give it to me."

"You'll have to be more specific."

"The coin, Tycondrius," Natalya gestured towards him. "It will be in good hands with my Scryers."

Tycon chuckled, shaking his head, "Disappointing."

Natalya furrowed her brows into a glare, "I beg your pardon?"

Tycon relaxed in his chair, tilting his chin up, "And what will *your* hands be doing?"

The Archbishop pressed her boot against Tycon's abdomen, "Not what you were hoping for."

"Hm. Very well," Behind the mask of Tycon's arrogance, he internally breathed a sigh of relief. He was successfully unnerving the Archbishop... but he feared the facade would fail if he pushed her too far.

"Is there tracking magic on it?" She asked.

"Not on the coin, itself," Tycon shook his head. "But again, it's very unique."

"A double-edged sword, then," Natalya groaned.

She stood and held up two fingers of her off-hand. The coin drifted from Tycon's palm, levitating in the air in front of her, "I'll have my Scryers compile a list of suspicious individuals, then... which would hopefully aid me in my pest problems..."

Natalya heaved in a deep breath and sighed, "And what would you like for your troubles, dear Prince?"

Wonderful. Tycon had been waiting to hear those sweet words.

"I want my forces to lead the Purge of Caeruleum," He declared.

"Oh?" Natalya raised an eyebrow, "Disappointing. I had thought for certain you'd ask for where in the Basilica I resided."

Tycon grimaced in a sudden panic. It would be problematic if Natalya were to call his bluff. He did not actually want to become the woman's plaything. He'd certainly be flayed if he were trapped in her quarters.

"I had thought milady was... not so interested in my... tools?"

"Oya?" Natalya giggled ominously, "Do you have more than one?"

Tycon averted his gaze for the briefest moment. He only had the one. Snakes tended to have two. He found it peculiar that the topic had come up twice within only the last few weeks.

"Would you like to see?" Tycon offered.

Natalya leaned in, her hot breath smelling of sweet herbs, "You play a dangerous game, Ivory Prince."

Tycon smirked, "What do I get if I win?"

...He desperately hoped his confidence would scare the woman off. Sleeping with the Archbishop would be nothing short of disastrous.

"Get out," Natalya stood up abruptly... "Pervert."

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