-- "My friends ~ Be wary. Those who would drape themselves in gold do so to hide their scales. Come to Westeros. ~ J."
{Attaching the message to his raven's leg, he opened the cabin window and sent the black bird towards @AliveInABox and @RapiersOrRape, hoping --
-- into the sea.
Gertrude claimed her husband's death was a malady of the heart.
He knew better.
There was no doubt in his mind that the Danish king had been slain.
Turning on his heel, he strode into his cabin and made for his desk, writing a return message: --
-- Gertrude about the usurper's licentious looks across the castle's hall...
He should have said /something/.
Bracing himself under that weight, shoulders straightening against that which he'd decided to carry, he crumpled the raven's message into a ball and dropped it --
-- Claudius tried to slither on to the recently vacated throne?
Head canting, he flexed gloved fingers against the small scroll, trying to quell the quiet voice in his mind, insidiously whispering that he should have seen this coming. Stopped it somehow, warned --
{muttering} Seven Hells...
{Pale eyes scanning the Elsinore Queen's elegant scrawl, the black ink swirling across the parchement like dour dancers across a narrow floor, he took a breath and bowed his head, saying a silent prayer for the fallen king.
How long before --