MEL

The daylight sun shined the brightest over Councillor Mel Medarda's elaborate office and it's unique window with a morningstar on it's center, where she started spending most of the morning attending to the delegates of the noble Houses of Piltover. Well, at least the ones that bothered to heed her call, given some were hesitant since the explosion. Mel's office, in a way, also became the acting 'council' meeting room since the explosion as well, though there was a lack of seats, as well as the lack of... seaters.

"The latest news came from Lady Arvino.", Mel's aide, Elora, said, as Mel looked over the few papers left on her office. "She said she should be ready for the eventual summit, when it is called, but recommends you hold it for the time being."

"Of course she does...", Mel said, letting a sigh a bit after. "Send to her, thanking her for her willingness, despite circumstances, to fill such much needed voids in this... complicated hour. Use these words."

"There's also been some news, concerning House Ferros.", Elora replied as well.

"Ferros?", Mel asked, with a tint of concern, having been enough time on Piltovan politics to know well how much serious one should take that name. This much being influential enough. And dangerous enough.

"One of them is here, wanting to speak to you.", Elora answered. "The Gray Lady."

Mel shut her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, knowing too well of this title. 'Doubtlessly wanting someone's head for what happened...', she thought.

"Send her in.", Mel said. "We'll have words alone."

Elora nodded, walking to the door and opening it wide, shining light over the stern, feminine sillhouette with it's unnatural blue eyes which walked in with her very uncommon legs. Elora waited for the newcomer to pass through before crossing the door and shutting it as well, leaving only two ladies at the room.

Mel forced a serene expression. "Lady Camille.", she greeted, with an attempted smirk.

"Councillor Medarda.", Camille replied, with a cold expression and the unsettling mechanical voice Mel could never get used to, walking forward at a slow space.

"I've just heard of the recent news.", Mel said, with a solemn face. "My condolences for Shoola. Perhaps, if there's anything-"

"Blame not yourself for deeds not your own, Councillor.", Camille interrupted, stopping by the base of the stairs. "Not even the most versed in Hextech and it's magical properties could have ever foreseen such... madness. Also, we Ferros and our distant Giopara cousins have never talked as much. Instead, I am rather surprised your visiting mother hasn't had you locked up, yet, for the sake of safety. My condolences for your brother, by the way."

Mel did an imperceptible frown. It was obvious Camille merely was using this to worm her way in. Any geniune expression of true sympathies would've otherwise come earlier. "I'm appreciated, Lady.", she stated, subtly. "Though, regardless of family bonds, my... General Ambessa is cautious enough to avoid any... potential incidents between Piltover and Noxus."

Camille did notice some apparent hesitation in Mel, in regards to her mother. "Indeed, of course.", she nodded, ascending the stairs. "Still, national and bloodline disparities apart, only one would be as malicious or naive to shut eyes to facts. More latter than former, regretfully. For, documented or not, war has nonetheless broken out. And yet Piltover still doesn't prepare accordingly."

Mel glanced at Camille for a moment, before letting out a cold snicker. "Evidently.", she started. "Only I find it strange one of a position such as yours would take a sudden interest in matters much above her..."

Camille stared at her, stone cold. "Perhaps not as above as you'd believe.", she started, walking slowly past Mel towards the shining window. "True, the recent tragic event within my House has often placed me into more involvement with some... incompatible duties to my position. Though, as a fitting counterweight, it did help me acquire a broader insight into matters within Piltover's sphere of power. A holistic viewpoint, per say."

Camille then turned around and glanced back at Mel. "And this holistic viewpoint now has me see your recent quarrel with your mother has become a liability.", she said.

Mel stared at back at Camille. "With all due respect, Lady, this is touching in personal matters.", she said.

"You've been years on this Council, one that's just been shattered by a propelled bomb.", Camille stood firm. "So, with all due respect, don't make me insult you - and my elegance - in lecturing an experienced like I would a toddler. And the very one whom, days ago, advocated for the making of Hextech-powered defense systems, but suddenly had a change of heart on meeting her warmonger of a mother? The second strangest decision, compared to appointing one just made vulnerable by a family member's death as the new Sheriff."

Mel's blood froze. Camille found out, somehow.

The Gray Lady herself walked away from the window. "On your mother.", she said. "Of course she'd come to Piltover for the Hextech, you being her least favorite daughter or not. But only a fool believes the choice of bellic Hextech development would be binary. Between never using it at all, or using it, and risking it fall into wrong hands? How gauche... Other possibilities exist, if you only would know where to look for them."

"And, were I to take them, would I be protecting Piltover, or rather Piltovan interests?", Mel asked, both curious and defiant, with Camille reading through Mel's provocation.

"Let's talk with, at least, a semblance of maturity.", Camille replied, coldly. "We both were aware this was bound to happen, sooner or later, Silco or no Silco. Such was the price of Progress, as well as privilege. A privilege, may I add, that you basked out for all these years, when you were brought here rather involuntarily, yet we welcomed you with open arms."

Mel looked away for an instant, as Camille descended the stairs, towards one of the adorning, decorating rocks in Mel's room.

"However...", Camille approached a particular one, keeping her distance. "...privilege also happens to be an impartial, inexorable collector. And the time to collect, apparently, has come."

Camille's right leg backed away, as if preparing a strike, a subtle azure glow emanating. "And it will collect, Councillor.", she stated, staring at Mel. "One currency, or the other."

Suddenly, Camille spinned counter-clockwise, using the backed right leg for a pivot as the left one struck the target rock. As the spin was complete, Camille was in a martial position and immediately got to her feet, retaining the posture.

A considerable piece of the rock started sliding away from it's base, and ultimately collapsed on the floor.

Mel simply stood there, watching it all, slightly intimidated by the deed. She could clearly see how come very few ever dared confront the Gray Lady herself. Mel had heard rumors. Now she had the validation.

"Your issue is quite visible, Councillor.", Camille said, walking back upstairs and slowly, as she got face to face with Mel. "You still believe war to be a pathology which, with proper hygiene and treatment, can be wholly prevented. Except war is the health of the State. Let Piltover be healthy, Councillor. You are due your debts to privilege."

Mel looked away, hesitating for a moment. "Well, Lady...", she started. "...that is your view. One I'm obligated to respect. But I still prefer to have faith that there is yet some hope in diplomacy. Maybe this can still be defused."

Camille looked at her, though with a cold expression, she could see the disappointment. "One of my relatives in expedition, Albus, should be present in Piltover within a couple of weeks to assume Shoola's previous seat on the Council.", she stated. "Should you need... assistance... with further insight, he'll be able to aid you, by then."

Camille then turned around to leave, walking towards the door, but then stopping. "Though you don't look the religious part, a fair warning.", she said, not turning around. "I'd watch for such faith. It's where you're likely to find the suicides, the fools... and the lambs."

Camille resumed her walking, opening the doors and leaving the room.

Mel stood there, before leaning at the desk and letting out a sigh of frustration.

'Kiramman, trencher girl...', she thought. 'Please, do hurry.'