Say’ri parses a text as if she is thoroughly chewing every word; Maribelle languidly sips at her own reading alongside her tea. She looks up at the other woman, taking another taste of the beverage and swallowing it quickly, parched more for the aftertaste rather than the drink itself.
“Say’ri, my dear, should I take your expression as your critique? You appear positively disgusted. A touch rude, I will say, but I will accept your honesty with grace…”
The other woman blinks and looks up at her. “Fie, no, milady! Your writing is skilled. It is the conditions you speak of that strike me.”
Maribelle hums into her teacup. “Ah, of course. Ylissean courts are simply abhorrent, aren’t they? And we claim the real barbarians are to the north, of course.”
Say’ri’s expression is screwed up, her complexion – normally clearer than day - clouded in attractive empathy. She drinks her own tea and speaks as she smacks it down, a girl who suddenly seems all soft lips for how remarkably small her mouth appears.
“But how can this –mm!” The bitter and hot hits her throat and she covers her mouth. “How can this be tolerated? Your laws are set to skewer the poor, not raise them in reverence! And the old are, as you say, ‘considered dead years before they are buried and only found alive for so long as they can be found guilty and never a second more.’”
When Say’ri speaks, Maribelle’s eyes light, her gaze casting down over her tea in her agreement as she tsks to the best of her ability. “It won’t be tolerated. I, specifically, shall not tolerate it. I do appreciate you reviewing my petition to the exalt and his court, a woman of great power such as yourself – of course, milord’s heard me go on at great length, but true clout comes in the documented form that men love so much…”
The other woman slams her tea down so hard it nearly spills onto the handwritten pages. “Lady Maribelle, I can think of no better candidate for the reform. Aye, but your words have such power! But your logic is perfectly clear. I can feel your compassion and wisdom down in my sinew. No man has the touch for debate and rebuttal you have, I mean it!”
Maribelle raises her eyebrows, but smiles. “I appreciate that - I truly do! But I’ve known all along that law is a women’s job. The rougher sex wants both the battles on the field and the courtroom, but they haven’t got the aptitude, simply.”
She reaches out and delicately wipes some of the stray spill safely away from her pages, lightly brushing Say’ri’s hand as she goes.
“Not that it matters. Personally, I have hardly any use for men at all.”
(this is what you really meant by “court” right)