She did not turn to acknowledge the interruption of her most bitter of rivals. As always Magister Atia was calm and emotionless. She did not smile at the prospect of sparing with Lady Livia, neither did she grimace intrusion into her tranquility. Her hazel eyes remained fixed in the direction of the the black throne, almost as if the red magister was gazing past it. The tone of her voice matched this serene exterior, as she spoke with a dispassionate voice as if speaking alone. "It is a grace that I do not suffer with nightmares" she answered, referencing her appellation - The Lady of Nightmares... Lady Nightmare
- that which spoke of the perception so many had of her, of a Thantos dreamer and their possession of secrets. The fanciful myth that she could walk into a person's dreams, their nightmares, and steal their fears secrets. It did it's purpose. The carnal
truth was not something that many... if any noticed, less acknowledged.
"How goes the saying?" she continued. The red Magister still did not look as she spoke, her eyes remaining fixed on the black throne as she considered the rueful fate of those who covet it. "He who wields the dagger, shall never wear the crown. A cautionary fact for any would be assassin, no? Something that has allowed it's occupants so sit with greater comfort than otherwise they should"
There were many Archon's who did not sit comfortably in the black imperial throne. Such men and women were either very wise, or very paranoid. Those who did were either fools or the highest order, or puppets... puppets entirely reliant on advisors for the security of their throne. "In a den of liars is trusting nobody any safer than trusting everybody?" Atia considered, at last flicking her head to look at her fellow Magister. With that she rose from the seat and stepped slowly as she descended the stairs down the lower dais, brushing her scarlet gown aside as her golden shoes taped with an echo that ran throughout the hall.
"Was it not your grandfather who was Archon when you were a child...?" Atia mused, her tone was now less rigid as she questioned the hole in Livia's nice little story. "Alas I could not attest to it's comfort, I have never sat in it. And I never shall."
Even if Atia did desire to be Archon, she was a Magister of ancient lineage. Magisters could not be elected Archon, even if one did succeed in displacing the current Imperial family. Which would be a challenge, even for the most talented of maneuvers. One might find a loophole, cede the Magisterial title and seat, and attempt to gain the throne. Unless circumstances were radically different to the current scenario, such was an act of a fool. And foolishness and stupidity was there politics tended to get bloody.
"I find that politics is only bloody if one get's it wrong" Atia said, an observation that she considered true to her own form of maneuvering. Even if it was a touch ironic that the family of natural auburn hair, that drape themselves in crimsons, marrons, scarlets and rubies, would seemingly favour avoiding bloodyness in politics. As if the Red of the Thantos symbolised blood! Standing a metre or so away from her rather scantily dressed opposite, Atia looked at her and smiled knowingly. "Although, I suppose, if it is played right one can not see the blood."