Boromin tried to appear nonchalant as he lounged, apparently unconcerned with the gossip that raged around him, in the inner Court. There had been much happenning in past weeks upon which to speculate, and speculation indeed was rife. Even if talk of the previous Empress dying - Boromin's breath always caught a little when he tried to consider the event - had died down since the initial flurry of gossip it had recieved, it remained nonetheless one of the more hotly contested rumours. Joining it, however, had been several of her daughter's more recent moves. It was no secret that activity in the countryside had increased lately, and not to any good of the Empire. What was less certain, however, was the reson for the insurgence, and what the Empress's reaction would be.

Though he himself was quite certain that none of the self-important Blood would know anything real about what was happenning further than their own bedrooms, though, Boromin nevertheless listened intently, only the occasional flick of his head giving any indication that his laid-back appearance extended no further than his posture. So far, no-one had given anything away, nothing that he could use; still, as always, he knew that it may only be a matter of time.