He thinks he has paced the length of his room perhaps a hundred times.
It is not a room. It is a cell.
A generous cell perhaps.
With the trappings of what was serviceable fair. Food at regular intervals. Offers of walks within the Nest of the Red Hawk… A privilege he had once long for. But it was done under careful guard. It was done with strange people of military dress, Aegis wear, and it was done without interaction when any of his employees.
Under the thumb of-
Of his new Owner.
Queen Jupiter Jones, Recurrence of Queen Seraphi Abrasax.
"Loveliest of mine."
Chicanery Night did not know what to think. Did not quite know what was to become of him in this strange new circumstance. He… He had adored the late Queen. She had been kind in her own way, brutal in most other ways. She had taken this scrappy little rat assistant and made him the youngest Splice to ever be in charge of a Refinery, and not just any, but the main one. The oldest and finest functioning in the 'Verse. The pinnacle of Entitled life, the pride of the Houses-
Or it had been.
Watching his home, his life, be destroyed so swiftly and utterly had been wretched.
Hearing her speak the words he had not heard in near two centuries had been utterly baffling.
"You're wanted," spoke a guard, face hard and unreadable.
I fear I am not.
"Give me a moment," he responded, voice carefully and utterly composed.
He fixed himself up as best he could, and followed behind, four guards. They walked for an uncomfortably long time, no words, no reassurances, or any sort of direction.
It is the bridge again. And there she is. The Queen Entitled. Sitting on Queen Seraphi's throne. She does not smile as Seraphi would have at the sight of him. But she looks at him. Straight into his eyes and he wonders for a moment if Queen Seraphi has ever just… Looked at him.
"No, Chicanery, loveliest of Seraphi. Queen Seraphi is dead, I'm Queen Jupiter Jones."
Chicanery blinks swallows as she looks at him with her different colored eyes. She is dressed severely today, in black, a gown that is more like a robe, purple lining in the large, billowing sleeves that are artfully cut to look like flames, a curious crown that looks like horns on her head, hair a sable tumble down her shoulders. She is looking at him, and he feels so… Small.
He shudders as she gives him a small smile.
"How are you, Mister Night? Or would you prefer Chicanery?"
He swallows thickly.
"Whatever is your preference, you're Majesty."
He knew she would do what she wanted anyway. She hummed. Eyes on his pale, withdrawn face, before she looked to her side.
Chicanery jumped at the Keeper who walked forward, dressed in a curious robe of feathers, dramatic, stitched with the bee of their owner's symbol dyed on the feathers.
"Jupiter," addressed the Keeper, voice high and- it called her by name-, "Projected capacity of RegenX production has ceased 100 percent. Harvests cannot proceed without the approval of the Orous Government due to ongoing investigation of all methods of harvesting, refining, and their equipment… We have perhaps six months before processing will be allowed to proceed, with Harvests slatted to start once again the second all investigations have ceased. It is imperative we proceed quickly.."
Chicanery gaped. Queen Jupiter hummed.
"Mister Chicanery, I have seized control of the Abrasax method and patented equipment of RegenX refining. What recourse would other, ah, lesser Houses would be left to toil away at productions?"
"Blackmarket RegenX. With… With the level of manpower of the Orous government there must be gaps in their control," he said simply, blinking quickly.
Queen Jupiter looked back at him, tilted her head.
"What else?"
"The clone method could be implemented as an emergency measure of creating RegenX. The product would be risky, and mistrusted, however. There is also the cruder, House Aown method that was used before House Abrasax, it is a good quality product, but it requires many more materials for a smaller yield. With the shortage, it will be quite lucrative."
"And if House Abrasax were to produce the product again?"
Chicanery blinked, and suddenly he saw the method to her madness. Brilliance. A complete and utter monopoly and coupe. She must mean to swoop this out of Lord Balem's hands for her own power.
"Complete and utter domination, your Majesty," he smiled, beamed really at the prospect of such a thing.
Balem had been a fair master, but he was not his Mother. Under his rule, the Market had grown, but House Abrasax had started to struggle to maintain its position as a result.
Queen Jupiter hummed.
"Thank you, Mister Chicanery, for your invaluable insight."
Chicanery bowed low. Will I serve a true Queen again?