The Sacred Monolith: Third Chapter Critique

I would like a critique on everything of importance. The previous chapters should be available still, you'll just have to scroll through the list! : )

† An Imperial Feast †

Camellia, Rihanna, and Trivana stood in the foyer as they waited for Sylivia. Trivana remained out of sight, scribbling furiously on a scrap of parchment with a fountain pen. The Head of the Interdiction Board and Empress were silent, casually glancing at each other, snapping their heads forward the moment their eyes crossed paths.
“Well Camellia? I think we’ve been waiting for your pupil long enough haven’t we?” Rihanna said, tapping her heel on the foyer’s marble floor. “Does she not think the Empress is someone befitting of her presence? Pompous little brat.”
“Please, Milady. I can assure you she respects the Empress as much as I,” Camellia explained with a nimble curtsy. “She is probably getting ready. After all, she wasn’t expecting your presence today. In fact, today was her first day off from school this semester.”
“I expect the utmost respect from someone as highly praised as Sylivia, my dear Camellia. You can’t count how many praiseworthy articles I’ve read from critics. She is without a doubt the most promising student at the Academy.” The Empress crossed her arms and grinned. “I can remember Emperor Ambrose telling me how much he loved her voice resonating throughout your home. ‘Like an angel,’ he would say.”
Camellia grimaced. “Yes, Milady. Ambrose was quite fond of her singing. I’m certain she will come soon.”
“Don’t get upset, Camellia. I can read your face like a well-versed book. Please don’t tell me you still believe that my aversion of the people’s wills that got your husband killed, do you?”
“Why would I be thinking about that at a time like this, Rihanna?” Camellia scoffed, whipping her body towards the Empress, “We are meeting here to discuss my student’s future and her graduation from the Empire’s most prestigious school for the musically gifted. I have told you and the Interdiction Board on numerous occasions that I have abandoned my suspicions of you having a part in my husband’s death. He was murdered by a dissenter of the Empire, tragically and cold-bloodedly. It was only a year ago so stop bringing that matter to the front of my mind. Please.”
The Empress burst into an uproarious laugh. “Do you take me for a fool, Camellia? An idiot? Ever since I was elected by the Interdiction Board, you have avoided me passionately because you are bitter. An angry, self-absorbed little twit, drowning in her own grief! As you know, last year’s taxation revenue was catastrophically low. That is why I fought so vehemently for financial intervention and increased monetary flow. Ambrose approved my proposed legislation, did he not? He played a part in the uprisings, did he not?”
Camellia ‘s eyes began flooding with tears. “I don’t want to discuss this with you. Not here, not now.”
“As you wish, Camellia.” The Empress turned towards the main hallway to see Sylivia, Valere, Bernard and Leanne scurrying towards the hallway. “Ah, here she comes now.”
“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Milady,” Sylivia called as she entered the foyer. “I wasn’t expecting your presence today.” As she approached the women, she fell to the floor in a bow, gracefully spreading her orange skirts over the floor.
“Dear Corellia, child,” Rihanna cut in, “What on earth are you wearing? It’s approaching the middle of autumn and your dressed like a tasteless bar wench.”
Sylivia rose from the floor, blushing. “I-I...I’m sorry, Milady. As I’ve said, I wasn’t expecting your arrival. You see, my friends from Hendisburg arrived today and I was—er...just...you see, I...” She halted mid-sentence and began trembling.
“Mmmhmm. And who are these two young men? I have not seen them around the manor during my occasional visits. Isn’t it appropriate to introduce your guests before yourself, young lady?” The Empress crossed her arms and looked at Sylivia with a vexing glare.
“Yes, Milady,” Sylivia said finally, “This here is Valere Hutchinson and this is Bernard Isen. Both are from my hometown of Hendisburg. We’ve known each other since childhood.” Both boys dropped into graceful bows, obviously rehearsed before they arrived. “And I apologize for my attire, Your Greatness. I will change if you’d like.”
“There is no need,” Rihanna said, releasing her punishing demeanor, “I just have immeasurably high hopes for such a gifted, distinguished young lady. And I think we can all agree that nothing could really make you look like you belong on a farm somewhere.” She looked around as if waiting for someone to agree. No one said a word. “Now, shall we commence the banquet? We have much to discuss.” With a clap of the Empress’ hand, Leanne began scurrying towards the kitchen as the party followed behind her. Rihanna walked first, Camellia second, Trivana, still scribbling relentlessly, followed third, then Sylivia, Valere, and Bernard.
As they entered the room, the scent of freshly roasted pheasant greeted them. Rich, buttery smells immediately tantalized their senses, sending their taste buds into a salivating frenzy. The long table was set impeccably with golden utensils and plates, each with a silk napkin crafted into the shape of a bird lying next to them. Leanne guided each of the guests to their seats: Rihanna at the head of the table, Camellia on her right, Sylivia to her left, Trivana next to Camellia, Bernard and Valere next to Sylivia.
Just as soon as they were settled, a group of male, suit-clad servers burst through the kitchen’s swinging door, balancing bowls of red soup, dusted with green herbs on trays. Puffs of steam still hovered over each dish as they placed them in front of the guests.
Rihanna unfolded her napkin and placed it strategically on her lap. She then selected the appropriate spoon and carefully sipped the soup. She smacked her lips and sat still for a moment, before her face contorted into scowl. “It’s too cold,” she said, poking her nose into the air. She clapped her hands. “Servers, bring me another bowl of this. Be sure it’s precisely 145 degrees before daring to put it in front of me again.” A dark-haired server swept up the bowl promptly, and carried it into the kitchen as if it was tainted. “Well, that nearly spoiled my appetite.”
“Indeed,” Camellia muttered, picking up her knife unintentionally, if not subconsciously.
“So tell me,” the Empress started, turning towards Sylivia, “What will you be singing for me at your graduation recital, Sylivia? I’m dying to know.”
Sylivia cleared her throat before speaking. “Well, Milady, I was thinking of singing selections from poets and troubadours throughout the ages, in order to showcase my vocal range and technique. To please you, Milady, of course.” She swallowed before continuing: “And also, if the budget permits, Lady Camellia and I were discussing the possibility of having costumes tailored to correspond with each piece, to reflect the clothing styles worn during the song’s Age.”
Rihanna reached for a dinner roll from a basket on the table. “Yes well, as you know, the Empire’s funds have been rather restricted over the past few years. I am willing to propose a budget with extra funds set aside for costumes. It’s only a matter of Camellia approving it.” She fixed a stern glare on Camellia as she buttered her roll.
Camellia turned to face Rihanna after taking a sip of wine from her goblet. “Yes, well, it depends on how abundant the crop is for the Eastern Lands this year. If the famine that has been plaguing that region continues, the money may be better off spent on the plight of the people.” She set her goblet down firmly.
Rihanna scoffed. “Those imbeciles don’t have the slightest idea how to raise crops, Camellia. It’s about time they started reaping the consequences for their stupidity, instead of my Empire bailing them out incessantly.” Rihanna bit down on the roll and chewed it slowly, before her face twisted into her previous disgust. She then swallowed and threw the bread at her plate. “Stale.”
“At least you have something to eat, Rihanna,” Camellia muttered before taking a large gulp of wine. “Perhaps we should donate it to the ‘imbeciles.’”
“A tactless joke coming from you Camellia,” Rihanna retorted. She sniffed and slumped back in her chair. “Where’s my soup?” Her inquiry sent the eyes of every server darting towards one another nervously.
“Have patience,” Camellia demanded, “You act as if it would kill you to wait an extra second. Perhaps if you weren’t born directly into your slew of personal attendant’s arms you’d have some idea of the virtue!” Camellia practically inhaled the remaining wine from her goblet.
“I am growing weary of your childish banter, Lady Camellia!” Rihanna said, rising from her chair and looming over the politician. Sylivia, Valere, and Bernard watched the two women with eyes gaping. Even Trivana looked up from her scribbling. “You have grown too comfortable in your position as the Head of the Interdiction Board. Know your place before you disrespect your Empress!”
Camellia rose to the Empress’ level, staring her straight in the eye. “You picked this battle, Rihanna, and you know it!”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Rihanna scoffed, pressing her palm against her bosom.
“Don’t test me, Rihanna!” Camellia screamed, “You know very well how I feel about discussing my husband’s death! You taunt me about it ceaselessly whenever you get a chance to corner me, you wretched woman! I know it was your taxation plan that caused the riots that got him killed! You know that very well!”
“Alright, Camellia,” Rihanna said, removing the spectacles from her nose, “I admit that my taxation plan was irrational. I admit that it was extreme. Now, since I spilled out my secret, why don’t you tell Sylivia what you’ve been withholding from her?”
“What do you mean?” asked Camellia.
“You know very well what I am talking about, Camellia. Go on. Tell Sylivia the real reason for your acceptance as her sponsor. Is that not his child that she invited for the recital? Was that not your goal in the first place? To see the result of your husband’s eloping?”
Camellia began to sweat. “How dare you! You’re a mighty pig of an Empress, Rihanna!” Camellia swept Trivana’s goblet from the table and spilled the beverage on Rihanna’s robe. The violet drink stained the fur trim of the Empress’ stole and dripped onto the hem of her skirts.
Rihanna gasped. “Wretch! I’ll tear you limb from limb!” Without hesitation, the Empress lunged at Camellia, sending the two women tumbling to the floor. They scratched and slapped one another, wrestling on the intricately woven Persian rug. Camellia tore at the crystal tiara nestled in Rihanna’s hair, sending it shattering to the floor. The bits and pieces crunched underneath them as they continued swatting at one another furiously.
Sylivia and Trivana raced towards the women, forcing them apart, binding them as they continued thrashing violently. “That is enough! “ Trivana demanded in a surprisingly authoritative tone as she clenched the Empress’ hands behind her back. “It is time we left, Milady. The Interdiction Board will certainly hear of this!”
“Indeed they will,” Camellia said with surprising composure, “Empress Rihanna you have left me no choice but to enact the First Law of Interdiction, Paragraph 4, Section 12, clause 11e.”
A synchronized gasp echoed throughout the room.
“I hereby strip you of your position as ruler of the Empire!”

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