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Georg-introspection

NaNoWriMo somewhat related (1)

Need to get this done SOMEHOW. Might as well do it in my lunch breaks. Huge loss of appetite recently. Bah health issues.

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Somehow she's not surprised when she recieves orders to collapse a certain economy in a certain country. The Imperial Princess' rages are quick-flaring, but it is the cold burn that her enemies fear (and rightly so) - a chill wrath that holds grudges quite well. Too well. This particular lord must be particularly ignorant (or particularly stupid) to have offended the Imperial Princess this much, she thinks idly, and feels the vaguest smidge of regret (mostly on behalf of the commoners) as she signs and checks the missives that will cripple the silk industry of Momoji-koku for at least a month - if they grovel quickly enough, that is.

"One would think they would learn,"n a harsh, unamused voice breaks into her reverie; a woman's voice, with the wild beauty of a hawk's cry. She knows who it is without looking up, for Ashura-hime is the only female who dares to speak informally to a noble of her rank. The only female nin, that is, and even she steps lightly around their beautiful, terrible mistress. "They risk beggaring their countries for the chance to needle a ruling noble."

"It is quite foolish," she agrees, sealing the scrolls with the braided cords of gold and forest green that signify an order from Hisui-koku's Imperial Princess. The knots come easily to her, who had such trouble tying them in the early period of her lifelong tenure - she has had five years to perfect them. Five years in the princess' service, and now a proper lady of nineteen, with as much probability of marriage as of the Imperial Princess being disowned by her honorable father, Emperor Shunnikado's younger brother. (Not that she actually wishes for marriage, of course, but it would perhaps be a pleasurable distraction to break the monotony of her neverending toil.)

Her sigh, decorously quiet, summons one of the handmaidens from beyond the inner shoji doors, a questioning look on the young woman's carefully painted face; she sends the girl away on some meaningless errand, and puts the scrolls on the far edge of her carved ebony writing table so that Ashura-hime may retrieve them with proper distance. "Deliver the blue to our factor in Yoshimura, and the red to the harbormaster of Shosho-na, please, with time to spare for the Autumn festivals. And if you would send Amakusa-dono to see me on your way out-"

A gust of wind sets her long hair to whipping as the jounin kunoichi's abrupt departure cuts short her ritual of polite thanks, and Nokoru no Sakura laughs quietly to herself, taking a fresh scroll from the tray by her side. Ashura-hime never does like empty gestures.

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Typing at lightspeed during lunch break~su.

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