Empress Adirn 11: Thy Neighbour's Ox

​There was much about life in the Onyx Empire to which Oathbreaker Adirn Deepgrave the Denier had become accustomed, despite her best efforts; time and resources had had be prioritised in removing the most objectionable items and behaviours first and foremost, but for every one of them she fought over, there were a hundred smaller battles she had to ignore. Although the gallows were being torn down, she still passed hanged-man effigies embossed into many walls of the palace. Even though drowning was outlawed, she still saw the ceremonial weighted shackles hanging over her bathroom door. The less said about the ‘prisoner-chute’ built into her furnace the better, she’d declared on many occasions. With such ambient horrors lingering at the bottom of her list of priorities they became familiar sights instead of revolting shocks, and sooner than she would have liked they became a part of the background.
                Whenever the efforts of Chamberlain Greysoul came to fruition, by virtue of whatever his eternally listening ear really was, it was often a subtle shock. The only reason that she noticed the absence of her guillotine was when she felt unaccountably more comfortable at the dining table, and her bed felt distinctly alien upon the removal of its gargoyles. With every skull that disappeared from the palace she was forced to acknowledge how many there had really been to begin with, and it scared her to think of how blind to and accepting of them she’d become.
                Such was the shock when her carriage rattled across the border that separated the Onyx Empire from the White Alliance. At the instant she left Onyxian territory a silence and calm enveloped her; it spilled into the space between her and Captain Toxis like a whirlpool in reverse, swallowing up the sound and covering them both in a blanket of serenity. Adirn had been travelling for days in utter ignorance of the shaking, rumbling and rattling of her carriage’s wheels against the careless spillage of stone that passed for a road through her empire; when the abused wooden wheels touched their neighbour’s immaculately laid pathways, it came upon her like wakefulness from a three-day nightmare.
                “Wow…” she uttered. She’d never felt so still and stable in her life. “…this is a nice road. I’ve never had an opinion on roads before.”
                “It does a fine job of supporting our carriage, your eminence.” Keto replied with very little emotional investment.
                “A wonderful job, I’d say. In stark contrast to the failure of our own.”
                “The roads delivered us here, eminence. I’d call that sufficient.”
                “True enough.” Adirn conceded. “But this is something else. Is everything about the White Alliance so effortlessly superior to the Onyx Empire? The skies are clear, the roads are smooth and the grass is quite literally greener. You saw it as well as I did.”
                “A warning from Almighty Virum, to hear my soldiers tell it, eminence.” He reminded.
                “I’d rather Virum had made our own fields fertile, to be honest. But I suppose that’s not really his style. Why become the best by improving your own lot when you can burn down the opponents, or just blind everyone to what good things look like, right?”
                “If you say it, eminence, then it must be so.” Keto continued to evade.
                “All I’m saying is that between countless military defeats, economic collapse, and internal disputes that seem to be the very foundation of our politics, the White Alliance’s dominance is pretty clear to see.”
                “You draw a lot of information from a road and field, eminence.”
                The empress gave her guard captain a withering look.
                “I suppose to you it is just road then?”
                “To me, eminence? To me it is a question. Why would anyone build and maintain a road up to a border they never cross?”
                The empress thought for a moment.
                “They cross it sometimes. You know, to invade.” She finally replied uncertainly.
                “Armies do not march in single file along roads, your eminence. Merchants and diplomats travel along them, and there are none of those travelling between the Onyx Empire and the White Alliance. Perhaps I am a simple solider from the laughable Onyx Empire, and maybe I am looking upon the situation with a simpleton’s eyes, but when I see my enemy make a move that serves no obvious purpose, I have to ask myself why.” Keto said, offering more words than she’d ever heard him speak before and looking injuriously at her.
                “I didn’t mean to call you a simpleton, Keto.”
                “Some of us still have pride in our empire, despite its failings, eminence. If I am delivering you to the White Alliance to make our lives better then you have my complete support, and if you believe that they will help us in that endeavour then so much the better. But please do not labour under the delusion that the White Alliance is so noble when they build a road just to demonstrate that they have what we do not.”
                “This isn’t… I didn’t…” Adirn stammered. Despite her best efforts she couldn’t think of any purpose that the road really served, other than showing how much better life was inside the White Alliance than the Onyx Empire. The revelation trickled down the back of her throat like iced water, as did the realisation that Keto felt something like patriotism despite everything. “I’m sorry Keto. I am trying to fix the Onyx Empire, not mock it.” She said, biting the inside of her lip. Suddenly she found herself wishing for the noise and rattle of the road to return and fill the carriage with something other than Keto’s disappointment.
                “You needn’t apologise to me, eminence. I fear that I spoke out of turn. Emperor Tyrranick would have had my head for such insolence.”
                “Good thing I wasn’t a bishop approaching with a battering candlestick, or you’d have had mine.” Adirn suggested. Keto cracked a small smirk, and then shrugged. “But you are quite correct. I shouldn’t suspect that everything will be bright sunshine and roses in dealing with Thomas Dove; I suppose his missive and delegation have already proven their attitude towards us.”
                “More so than the serial beheadings of our rulers, eminence?”
                “You know what? Yes. Far more.” She paused. “That’s a damning indictment of something isn’t it? If only we could be sure what it was.”
                Thanks primarily to the lens of Keto’s patriotic cynicism, Adirn’s panoramic view of the bucolic countryside that formed the outskirts of the White Alliance was dulled a little. Wildflower meadows were mildly less panchromatic, the sunlight’s halo over the distant mountaintops was only mostly divine, and whatever gambolling wild horses she saw could have feasibly been more picturesque given exceptional conditions. She gazed idly at an ancient weeping willow, reflected in the mirror-surface of a deep blue lake, and its lustre felt just a fraction less idyllic than it should have. A part of the empress’ mind wondered how much emotional devastation it would really take to make the journey feel outright unpleasant, but the rest of it knew that several candidate answers would be waiting for her back in the Onyx Empire. Noble and altruistic or not, she knew that negotiating White Alliance was still her best chance of avoiding an early grave.
                As the empress’ carriage progressed deeper into the lands of the White Alliance they began to pass through tended grounds and farmland, over-spilling with lush crops and swollen vegetables. Perfectly straight rows of plants, preparing themselves to give the gift of their inevitable harvest, swayed gently in the breeze that blew plumes of pollen across the fields. Very occasionally Adirn fancied that she could see a farmhand in the distance taking care of some picturesque agricultural task or other, and she couldn’t help wishing that she could disappear into that life. It might be hard work, and they might not be wealthy, but the risk of a Dark Council appearing and pushing her ears into her head would have been so vastly reduced as to make those sacrifices quite worth it. Unfortunately, there were no recorded instances of empress’ being granted asylum within the White Alliance, let alone meaningful work on a farm, so it was a slim chance at best. But maybe they wouldn’t have to know. She could just order the carriage driver to stop, and then disembark and run away into the wilderness. If she disappeared then there would be no-one to make her argue against mass-drownings or explain why poisoning the wells of a whole nation was, on balance, probably not a very good idea.
                The empress opened her mouth to suggest it to Keto, casually and without commitment so that she might be able to brush it off as a joke, but the words died in her throat when she saw his face. It didn’t, in and of itself, offer any immediate counter-argument to disabuse her of the notion of disappearing, but it did remind her of the way he’d looked so injured earlier. He’d stood by her and killed people on her account, all because he believed in the mission to which she’d devoted her reign. If she suggested just running away from it all, abandoning the Onyxian people to their fate, then that look would come back and, presumably, not leave again. Cursing the captain and her own over-active conscience, she swallowed the sentiment back down. The life of a White Alliance farmer would never be hers. As lost ambitions went, she reluctantly accepted that it wasn’t too devastating.
                “Is everything alright, your eminence?” Keto asked. Adirn realised that staring at Captain Toxis whilst engaged in a small, private emotional cataclysm probably wasn’t the most subtle move she could have made.
                “Yes, Keto. Thank you. I was just thinking about how lucky these farmers are not to have to deal with Count Rott, or his suggestion that we carry a whole armada through the mountains.”
                “Or to deal with his rule of Decaydale.” The guard captain agreed.
                “Yes… quite so.” The empress replied, scrunching up her nose at the mere memory of its intense stench. Only the gentle perfumes of blossom and petal had met her nose since crossing the border.
                Deep in contemplation of the varied smell-scape of her journey, the sound of voices from outside the carriage snapped Adirn back into the present. Muffled by the combined action of a military helmet and the thick-lined carriage walls, the voices of her escort had never formed anything but a white-noise background. This time, however, there was a muffled speaker who sounded unmistakably foreign to her.
                “Ha! No need to be alarmed my friends! I’m just a simple farmer out for a trip around the fields. Checking the boundaries and so forth. But it’s a pleasure to have so many guests travelling through like this. How are you all?” It said, exuding a natural, bright affability that pierced through the lined walls of the carriage and made the empress feel immediately welcome. With a pang in her chest that she’d not expected, she remembered how pleasant it was to feel welcome anywhere.
                As her entourage replied to the mystery voice, in a tone which she feared would be rather less wholesome, Adirn moved over to the window of the carriage and slid it open. The thrill of meeting someone who was pleasant without sarcasm had set her heart to beating anew.
                “… keep the empress protected from all assailants. Do not approach the carriage.” One of the riders was saying. By the sounds of it the voice was coming from atop the horse, rather than its shoulder level, so that ruled out one of them.
                “An empress! Outside my very own farm! Well that’s a very fine thing, and your task is a noble one. You have my full support in that venture, friends, and I promise that I won’t be encroaching on your empress or her safety in any way.”
                Shortly ahead of the carriage and apparently heading towards them was an enormous bay horse. With sleepy eyes it calmly regarded the Onyxian retinue, occasionally shaking its long, black mane from side-to-side because it liked the floppy motion. Crossing the broad white blaze across its nose was as bridle that connected to a heavy harness on its shoulders, and behind that was a simple wooden cart being driven by a middle-aged woman. With a face that comprised more lines than her ploughed fields, and ruddy from days spent exclusively out of doors, she smiled broadly at Adirn as the imperial head popped out of the carriage window.
                “Well hello in there! Lovely to have a visitor in these parts, especially one of stately rank! I hope the day finds you well, your eminence.” She said, somehow managing to execute a respectful bow whilst occupying the driver’s seat of the cart.
                “Good day to you, madam. A pleasure to meet you. What, may I ask, is your name?” Adirn asked enthusiastically. Her back began to complain immediately at being twisted and crouched in such a way as to allow her head an angle of egress from the window, but that was something the empress decided to be necessary.
                “Oho, the pleasure is all mine your eminence. My name is Bertha Humble. Welcome to the White Alliance and welcome to Humble Farm, the largest of the small steadings in the Plains of Pleasance.” Bertha told her, beaming proudly.
                “Empress Adirn Deepgrave of the Onyx Empire.” Adirn introduced in turn. The grin on Bertha’s face flickered for a moment, and the imperial stomach fluttered sickly. It wasn’t a note of revulsion that had appeared on Bertha’s face, nor of fear or anger. Expertly recovered but not quite quickly enough, Bertha had betrayed a flash of pity on hearing the empire’s name.
                “A long and prosperous reign it will be, I hope.”
                “Please move along, madam. We will not ask another time.” The rider from before barked. The farmer shot him a friendly smile.
                 “I think I’d best be letting you travel onwards, your eminence. There’ll be important matters to which to attend, I’m sure. Have yourselves just a lovely time, everyone!” She said, throwing out a gregarious wave at the whole retinue and tapping her cart horse into motion. With lolloping paces from hooves the size of a headsman’s axe, and amid regretful thoughts from Adirn that she’d chosen that particular comparison for their size, the horse pulled Bertha’s cart into motion along the roadway. As she came level with Adirn’s window the farmer gave the empress another respectful bow, and then disappeared from view behind the carriage.
                “Another threat deflected. Good work team.” One of the retinue called out to the rest. Adirn retreated inside the carriage to avoid responding.
                “That was nice.” The empress instead said to Keto. “It’s so refreshing to have spoken to someone like that.”
                “Good to hear, your eminence.” Captain Toxis replied. Adirn could see him cogitating on something, but he apparently wasn’t willing or ready to share what.
                Further into the country from Humble Farm the roads began to grow less desolate, and the Onyxian carriage was more frequently joined by other traffic. Compared to the clean, simple farming carts and ploughs, the empress’ carriage stuck out like a beacon of dark ostentation, and many of the fellow road-users turned their heads or offered the same warm reception as Bertha Humble had done. Each one of them was met with the blade wall of Adirn’s imperial escort, but none seemed terribly concerned about it.
                “Welcome to our fair nation, your eminence!” Called a passing miner from atop his fluffy donkey. The donkey itself had offered no welcome, but that was to be expected with the vast quantity of distractingly lush grass by the roadside. Hearing the miner’s greeting, a group of nearby farm workers looked up with delight.
                “It is just so lovely to have visitors. I do hope you’ll have a smashing trip.” One of them shouted, with her friends nodding vigorously in agreement.
                “You must come and stay with us one night if you have time. My daughter makes a simply delightful celeriac broth that warms the heart itself.” Offered another, with enthusiastic noises and encouraging nods from their companions. The mere mention of the broth seemed to whip them up into a frenzy of hospitality.
                “Could we bring a bottle of fig wine? I have a batch just about to finishing brewing, so our guests could have a bottle of their own to take home too!” Called another farmer, riding a donkey along the track.
                “Of course! The more the merrier for when our visiting dignitary comes to bless our home.”
                “That sounds very kind, thank you.” Adirn shouted back. With a lurch she felt the carriage start to speed up.
                “Tremendous. We’re at Virtue Meadow, just a mile East of here.” The determined host called out.
                “It’s been a pleasure.” The empress said as the carriage accelerated away. Looking towards the front to deliver a scornful rebuke at being rushed from conversation, she quickly intuited that her carriage driver had been encouraged to speed up by the escort; their use of the medium of sword-point to convey this message had proven incredibly effective.
                “We’ll get you out of this, your eminence. Fear not!” One of them said, upon noticing the empress’ attention.
                “They’ll not beguile you with their twee games.” Another agreed.
                “Oh for goodness… I would be honoured to join you when an opportunity permits!” Adirn screamed back to the farmers, hoping that they would still be able to hear over the thundering of hooves.
                “Wonderful!” Bellowed the middle farmer, her voice cracking and rasping with the effort of screaming so loud. “You look divine and your horses are gorgeous by the way!”
                “Thank you!” Adirn cried back at the ever-shrinking farmer. An affable smile and wave implied that even if they didn’t hear her, they were pleased with the show. “I wanted to keep speaking with them.”  She snapped at her retinue.
                “That’s the brainwashing talking, your eminence. Don’t worry. We won’t let that happen again.” Said the voice of the horse’s neck.
                “But I want it to!” The empress protested. “It’s not brainwashing, they’re just being nice.”
                “As you say, eminence.”  The first rider condescended, clearly no longer listening. In a huff the empress slipped back into the carriage.
                 True to their word, the escort kept Adirn safe from everything that further passing travellers threw their way. Welcoming smiles, kind words and earnest interest were met with a stonewall of helmet visors, threats of violence and stern rebukes, but the White Alliance’s exemplary road users never allowed their beaming grins to fade. It was as if nobody in the White Alliance had so much as heard of a negative emotion, let alone experienced one, and much less would they ever show those feelings on the surface. Although it sparked several fears of nation-wide repression in the more pessimistic parts of the empress’ brain, she couldn’t help leaning from the window every time to thirstily lap up the positive attitudes. It did nothing to assuage her retinue’s fear of indoctrination.
                Farmers and miners riding in simple carts gave way to affluent merchants transporting exotic wares in decadent shop-front carriages as they grew closer to Serenitas, and all continued to wish the Onyxian delegation just the most wonderful day, a magical visit to the White Alliance, and every good fortune that the world could bestow upon a traveller. Those who noted or deduced that delegation really was from the Onyx Empire enjoyed various degrees of success in attempting to hide their sympathies; some managed to offer encouraging words of hope, but the eyes of others betrayed nothing but overwhelming pity. Each time one of those mournful glances slipped through it sent another droplet of bitterness onto a growing stalagmite of resentment within the empress. At first it had gone entirely unnoticed, overwhelmed by the sweet novelty of anything other than sycophantism or thinly veiled threats, but gradually and infinitesimally the feeling grew. The Onyx Empire wasn’t seen as a genuine threat, obviously, but nor was it seen as a thorn in the White Alliance’s side. Their repeated invasions weren’t a nuisance from a weaker empire, nor a threat that merely fell low down the list of diplomatic priorities; they were the impotent bites of a toothless old dog. It evoked neither fear nor frustration but only pity, even from the common folk who sat outside of any fortification.
                Before the empress could dive too far into her ruminations, or even begin to wallow in the humiliation of being pitied by the peasant farmers of the White Alliance, a glint of almost blinding white caught her eye from outside of the window.
                “Is there a second sun rising out there?” she asked before she could stop herself. Captain Toxis gave her yet another pitying look, and then shrugged. “It’s so bright…”
                Squinting hard in the direction of the white irradiance, emerging from behind an impossibly perfect hillside, Adirn’s eyes began to fill with multi-coloured afterimages long before they could hope to focus on what might be projecting itself towards them. Blues and purples swam across her field of view, like the silhouettes of oddly ocular worms against a backdrop of more light than had ever touched the City of Torment.
                “What is it?” She asked.
                “I believe, your eminence, that you are looking towards Serenitas.” Keto said plainly.
                The empress turned to look at him, but the interior of the carriage was a mire of impenetrable blackness. Only the colourful dancing lights which had been burned into her retinas stood out against the pitch void. Mouth agape at the claim thrown out by her captain of the guard, Adirn had to confess that the floating shapes could be interpreted as vague and distorted towers, surrounded by lower buildings. They could also be interpreted as a horrid mess of damaged eyeball, so she didn’t want to commit too strongly until further evidence became available.
                “But it’s so bright!”
                “It is a city of white like ours is a city of black, eminence. How such a blinding light can be considered serene is a mystery to me.”
                “I can’t argue with that.” Adirn agreed. Her eyes were gradually becoming accustomed to the relative gloom of the carriage’s interior, and she started to make out the shape of Keto’s head again. Alarmingly, it was side-lit by the shimmering city’s light that streamed through the window, and cast a large shadow on the far wall. “I guess it keeps the city safe from invasion if no-one can look at it without losing their sight.”
                Finally grateful for the provision of her predecessors, Adirn drew her dark velvet curtains across the small window, plunging herself and Keto back into relative gloom. In a corona around the edges, and trying its absolute hardest to leak through the middle, the light continued assaulting their dim haven. The empress couldn’t help wondering if that’s what her own attempts to change the empire felt like to Katherine, Count Rott, and everyone else she’d struggled against; a blinding optical assault rushing against the curtains of cultural inertia. It didn’t sound quite like the historical legacy she wanted to leave.
                In the minutes that Adirn spent pondering any allegorical value curtains had for the story of her reign, the Onyxian carriage travelled further along the road and around a gentle bend. She had no idea how the driver or any of the riders were able to see enough of anything to navigate the roads but, in lieu of feeling the paved surface giving way to the turbulence of wheels on grass, they must have been managing. The further around the curve they travelled the gentler the radiant beam from Serenitas became, until it was a mere soft glow from the direction of the window.
                “I think it’s safe to open these up again, now.” She said, shuffling in her seat towards the curtains. Captain Toxis raised a hand up to his face in pre-emptive defence against any onslaughts that might follow.
                Squinting, Adirn grasped one curtain and tentatively peeled it back a little. The light of day poured into the carriage but, rather than seeking to drown the occupants as it had done before, this time it merely puddled around their ankles. The imperial retinas left intact by first contact, Adirn let out a relieved sigh and fully retracted both of the velvet curtains from the small window. Keto waited few more moments, in case there was a surprise attack from the photonic legion, but then finally lowered his hand as well.
                Standing like a set of brilliant white teeth in an inexplicably grassy mouth, Serenitas towered imperiously over the landscape around it. Starkly bright, even against the lustrous and fertile fields of prismatic wildflowers, the entire city was a beacon which demanded the attention of the eye. That was no shame, however, for the imperial eyes willingly gave their gaze to the city, now that it had changed its position on the free distribution of permanent ocular damage. Rising up from behind the magnificent limestone walls, Serenitas’ bastion against the dark, grew what Adirn could more easily parse as art than architecture. Where the buildings within the City of Torment had been smothered by coal dust and rebuilt wherever they would fit after a dozen invasions, everything that stood in Serenitas was pristine in its presentation; there was no evidence of age or wear, no discolouration of the brilliant whites, and no damage in want of repair. In a revelation that seemed to break from the most universal truth and tradition of the civilised world, even the church roof was missing no tiles and sporting no leak.
                Perfection poured from every un-shuttered window and ran down the elegantly spiralled towers which punctured the sky. It was sculpture before it was a city; the pitch of every roof led directly into another, every curve of one structure felt deliberately but effortlessly crafted to complement another  and, impossibly, not a single unicorn sculpture seemed gaudy or out of place.
                Open-mouthed and convinced that she was looking at a great temple of worship which made even the Cathedral of the Deep look pathetic, Adirn stared at the capitol of her conqueror with a mixture of awe, envy, and deepening anxiety. She had thought her Imperial Palace within the City of Torment to be decadent; that thought had proven to be the height of naivety.
                “Well, I think we can agree that the White Alliance could certainly afford to sustain itself without our war reparations.” The empress said to Keto, unable to frame her admiration of the city in any other terms.
                “Wisely observed, your eminence.” He replied, also looking over the city. Either he was doing a better job than the empress of hiding his admiration, or he felt nothing at all.
                Stretching from a monolithic gatehouse, its twinned towers capped with golden tiling and housing enormous bells, the main road into Serenitas was as broad as ten carriages and curved across vibrant meadows in the general direction of their own trajectory. Hundreds of other carts, riders, walkers and those who ambulated in a way only describable as ‘gambolling’, were passing in and out of the city at every moment. There was life here, something that the City of Torment had done its very best to extinguish.
                In dumb silence the empress tried to assimilate what she was seeing as the carriage made its approach to the gates. Even the tide of friendly ‘hello’s and offers of a long weekend in various strangers’ homes couldn’t break the empress’ grim fascination.
                “Everything here is so… grand. Do you think they’ll really listen to me? It seems like our empire is as one of the poor peasant villages to them.”
                “You listened to Glenn of Poverton, eminence. If they are as noble as they claim then they will listen to you.” Keto replied.
                “That’s a fair observation, captain. A big ‘if’, but a fair observation none the less.”
                “And I am no statesman, eminence, but I would refrain from referring to our empire as a peasant village.” The guard captain added. Adirn looked at him with pursed lips, and then nodded.
                Overhead a shadow fell upon them, but even the shade here was bright and welcoming. In a few moments it was gone, and they emerged from the towering gatehouse in to the city itself. What a dozen of Count Rott’s armies had sought and failed to achieve in the last few decades, Adirn had managed with a carriage and some patience.  She made a mental note to point this out to him, and then disregarded the notion; he’d only come to her with blueprints for a series of battle-carriages in which the armies could hide.
                Just as broad as that which led through the great gates, the roadways within the city made space for the easy flow of a seemingly limitless number of driving horses and their burdens. At the corners of every street stood large, friendly signs to direct visitors and demark one district from the others. In case that should prove too little to aid navigation, there were officiously dressed figures scattered around, offering friendly smiles and directing crowds to where they wished to be.
                “Welcome to Serenitas, visitors! You are more than welcome to come and stay with my family if you need a place to rest. Would you like me to run home and grab you a loaf or two for your journey?” Cried a young man from the side of the road.
                “Very kind, but I have provisions, thank you.” Adirn called by way of reply, but it was somewhat lost under the voice of one of the riders.
                “No attempts to poison the empress!” He bellowed, pointing his sword in a manner that would have been threatening had he not been lying flat on his back across the horse’s hind quarters.
                “Fear not! We do not like poisoned bread either.” The man chuckled back. “But if not then would you like some wine? Or… or my shoes?” He started rapidly unlacing his admittedly fine moccasins.
                “No! No that won’t be necessary.”
                “How about mine?” Another voice called from the opposite side, finding loafers to be an easier gift to rapidly prepare.
                “I don’t need any shoes, thank you!” Adirn shouted, trying to make her panic sound as grateful as it could.
                “Prepare for footwear bombardment!” Shouted one of the retinue, attempting to raise her shield but finding her arm secured to her horse via two bridles.
                “Get ready to catch!” The first man shouted, before an expert under-arm toss sent his shoes soaring through the carriage window. They landed neatly at the empress’ feet, never in any danger of striking her. A thumping that came from above told her of the arrival of another pair, landing on the carriage roof.
                “Are we giving away our shoes?” Someone in the crowd asked. Before any response could come there was a thundering rain of footwear onto the carriage. Adirn tried to shout for them to stop, but the sound of leather on wood was too loud to overcome.
                “Charge forwards, driver! Get us out of here.” Ordered the head rider of the retinue.
                “Hold on, you can have our shirts too! You might want a dry change of clothes in case it rains!” The man called, but the carriage started to accelerate away from him.  “Ok, well I see that you’re busy, but I hope you have a top time here, your eminence. I’ll bet you’re fantastic at explaining how to make pottery too.”
                Unsure of how to take those words, Adirn stared with incredulity as shoes continued to arc through the air, many now falling into the road. Eventually she pulled her head back into the carriage and tried to wrap her mind around what had just happened.
                After the rain of footwear ceased and the delegation had rounded a few corners, they slowed back to a more reasonable pace. As they proceeded through the city, the background white noise of almost sarcastically pleasant greetings and offers of free footwear unabated, its armed escort continued to draw curious but not at all concerned gazes from the citizens and officials alike. Even within the walls of the capitol they were no threat at all. Several people leaned from windows to offer the carriage a place to park up, a number of them extending that offer to cleaning up the wheels and replacing the missing skulls while they were at it.
                From a distance, looking across the meadow towards the city, it had seemed that every building within the borders of Serenitas was a grand work of art, as if the greatest buildings from across a whole empire had been aggregated into a settlement. Up close, this hypothesis was all but confirmed. Through the thronging crowds of busy citizens and merchants pedalling wares from street-side market stalls or carrying boxes of chickens for reasons unknown, grands archways and stone columns flanked almost every door. Those that stood without grand portals sat above broad steps with ornately sculpted bannisters, replete with statues of lions, handshakes, and something that Adirn didn’t necessarily recognise but intuitively knew to be the abstract notion of friendship.
                Adirn kept expecting to see some glimpse of simplicity emerge along the next road, or even to be tucked away in an alley, but the solid wall of decadence remained unbroken. It was impossible to determine where the common folk rested their heads and where the nobility slept, since every building that they could see was a monument in and of itself.
                “It’s not possible for everyone here to be a part of the landed nobility is it?” She asked Keto. Dutifully, he shrugged. “Actually, thinking about how much we’re paying in reparations, they probably could be.”
                “You could probably ask these common people for your money back, your eminence.  Given what we’ve seen in this city, they’d definitely give it to you.”
                The empress rubbed at her eyes.
                “I don’t think that mugging the populace will help our efforts to convince the White Alliance that we’re not all that bad, Keto. Although we’ll accept your plan as a fall-back position if things should get out of hand.”
                Captain Toxis nodded respectfully.
                For an hour the Onyxian delegation travelled through the broad, bright roads of Serenitas. Over the course of their journey the roads had grown less trafficked but remained just as broad, now standing as tree-lined avenues with flowerbeds and grassland peppered between glorious townhouses. Somehow it managed to be even more impressive than the outskirts of the city had been, and the empress began to wonder if the White Alliance’s financial practices were any more sensible than those of the Onyx Empire; less cruel, certainly, but it was an arrow in her quiver for the redundancy of reparations. At least, she hoped it would be.
                The Palace of Divine Light Thomas Dove was revealed to them after turning a corner like any other. That wasn’t to say that it was plain, but that it was of a common grandeur with the rest of the district. What was uncommon about turning that corner was how a monolithic spire, the one around which the rest of Serenitas had clearly been constructed, rose as high as even God-Gouger Tower and sought to meet the clouds themselves. Where much of the rest of the city had been made from gentle curves and continuous lines, the palace comprised a host of sharp, tessellated angles and seemingly disconnected chambers. Around the central hexagonal tower, arranged at a variety of heights, were narrow rectangular outcrops that almost seemed to float in place rather than having any connection to the main structure. Although irregular and incomplete, the levitating chambers gave the tower the look of something which was perfect in every way; to have plugged any gap or removed any outcrop would have been to spoil it in a way that was impossible both to define and to deny.
                The road running towards the palace was the broadest yet, and its tree-lining was so dense as to be a respectable woodland on either side. The late day’s sunlight filtered through the canopies and create a strobing effect across Adirn and Keto’s eyes as they travelled along it. Boughs met high overhead in an archway to welcome all and sundry to the palace, and judging by the decadence witnessed elsewhere Adirn presumed that very many sundries would be welcomed each day. Finally, in a reassurance that the Empress hadn't realised she'd been craving, she saw that the outer gates of Thomas Dove's palace were neither as large nor as grand as her own. They also didn't feature any murder sculptures, but that didn't undermine Adirn's small victory of having a larger gate than the White Alliance did. Neither did the fact that the gates matched the height of the walls. Trying not to think about how petty these victorious feelings were, lest doing so would rob her of the joy she'd claimed, she also noted that they were already open.
                On both sides of the gates there stood a collection of ceremonially-dressed guards, creating an avenue of their own. From their golden helmets rose the plumage of some impossibly colourful and unfeasibly large bird, and their armour was visible only as a set of contours beneath their chequered white and gold robes. As the Onyxian carriage approached they lifted their heavy, gold-inlaid halberds into the air with one arm. Just when Adirn was beginning to suspect that they would stop and interrogate the delegation, they instead began to chant.
                “Welcome! Welcome! Honoured guests! We hope you have a lovely day and are sure you’re wearing smashing shoes!”
                Not as confident about shouting back at armed guards as they were about mouthing off at the peasantry, Adirn’s retinue rode past in silence, not looking anyone in the eye but focusing on the long, gravelled path up to Thomas Dove’s palace. More impressive than their imposing stature, immaculately uniform dress, and perfectly synchronised vocal harmonies, was the ability of these guards not to burst into laughter at Adirn’s escort, who seemed to have become gradually worse at riding over the course of the journey. Even some of those who had originally ridden correctly were now lashing themselves to various parts of the horse using improvised bonds. Her honour guard of cavalry looked more like the victims of a peculiarly equine punishment.
                “Welcome! Welcome! Honoured Guests! Would you like to spend a long weekend at my home in the hills?” The guards continued, each of them beaming with uniform, regulation smile.
                Tentatively the empress leaned out of the window, muttered her gratitude at the offer, and retreated back inside as they all gave a respectful salute with their free hands.
                “Welcome! Welcome! Honoured Guests! Our offer stands whenever you should find yourself here again.” Chanted the guards. As the carriage passed through the gates and onto the gravel they gave a final chorused “Have a lovely day!” and then returned to their static vigil.
                There was silence inside the carriage for a few moments while Captain Toxis looked pensively at his hands.
                “Is… is that something you would like our own guards to do, your eminence?” He asked, with a conflicted puzzlement playing through his voice.
                “Oh, no. Oh goodness no. That was weird, Keto. Please don’t ever ask our guards to do that.” The empress replied, a thousand yard stare taking control of her face as she pictured what Onyxian guards might chant.
                Waves of relief washed over Keto.
                “Thank goodness. I’ve not faced a mutiny among my ranks yet, but I feel like that would do it.”
                At long last, after winding through Serenitas and crunching all the way along a near-endless gravel driveway, Adirn’s carriage came to a halt outside Thomas Dove’s palace. Already waiting outside of the palace was a small army of household staff; each one was dressed in brightly coloured finery with gold trimming, and they stood with their hands behind their backs at the base of two sweeping sets of white stone steps. Standing slightly ahead of the main cluster was what appeared to be the head of staff. Dressed in pure white clothing and a hat which could only be described as pompously humble, he sported a thin, finely oiled moustache that didn’t suit him, but felt in no way out of place, and stood as upright as physically possible without external intervention.
                As soon as the carriage wheels had ceased to turn the swarm of house staff elegantly strode towards anywhere they could be of use, from helping the various riders untie themselves from their horses to assisting the driver down from the carriage. The whole spectrum of gratitude from polite ‘thank you’s to irritably stubborn independence was their reward, but still they persisted in smiling silence. The head of staff strode directly to the carriage door and, without blinking an eye at its silver-entrails handle, pulled it open with a low bow.
                “Welcome, honoured guest, to the Radiant Citadel of Divine Light Thomas Dove.” He said, apparently addressing the floor. As he rose back up again he gestured with one arm, and a small team of servants brought a set of portable stairs up to the carriage; it fit perfectly up to the step, and for some reason Adirn found its flawlessness infuriating.
                “Thank you, sir.” She replied, shuffling her way over to the doorway. “I am Empress Adirn Deepgrave of the Onyx Empire, and this is Keto Toxis, my captain of the guard.”
                “An honour to meet you both, and to experience first-hand how well you utilise your ankles.” The head of staff replied.
                “What may we call you?” The empress asked, reluctantly accepting the offered hand to descend from the carriage and outright ignoring the strange compliment.
                “I am Wendigo Springtime, Governor of Domestic Duties within the Radiant Citadel, your eminence. Ensuring that your stay is comfortable and offers you whatever it is that you should need will fall under my remit, as do all other matters of maintaining Divine Light Thomas Dove’s household.”
                “Greetings, Wendigo Springtime.” Adirn said with a nod, rolling the name in her mouth and finding its veracity unconvincing. “I apologise about my retinue they er…” she struggled to find the words. Regret at starting that sentence filled her with a sinking feeling, and it only intensified under the politely expectant gaze of Wendigo. “… they are not accustomed to rides of this length and uh… they can forget their manners in their zeal to keep me safe.”
                The clenching of Keto’s jaw was audible.
                “Never a problem, your eminence. We all understand the stresses of a long journey through foreign lands.” Smiled Springtime. He was diligently refraining from looking while his staff fought to free a rider from their multi-bridle bonds. The empress joined him in self-enforced ignorance, having noticed that the rider was trying to tie themselves back up as the servants strived to unshackle them. “We shall have your luggage brought in presently. Please, allow me to show you to your quarters.”
                Grateful to be extracted from the debacle her retinue continued to make, Adirn followed behind Wendigo Springtime with Captain Toxis in tow. A number of short, sharp words from Keto brought a pair of the successfully but reluctantly dismounted guards up to his sides.
                “I can assure you that you will be perfectly safe in the White Alliance, your eminence.” The Governor said, hearing boots and rattling swords behind him. “There are none here who wish harm to you or your kin, and everyone would agree that you are probably very good at reciting folklore.” He complimented, in a way that the empress presumed she’d been intended to find reassuring.
                In the dying light of the day, the rays of the setting sun turning the marble-white of the Radiant Citadel into gold, Adirn allowed herself to be led up the shallow steps towards the gargantuan double-doors. They were already thrown open in yet another overt gesture of welcoming, and seemed to have been crafted from a grey-white wood with which Adirn was unfamiliar. Before entering she looked up towards the central spire that she’d seen from the roadway, and felt impossibly tiny beneath its alabaster enormity. The floating chambers were genuinely set away from the main structure by a normal room’s width, as far as she could see, but from below she could see a narrow corridor leading radially to each one. A cobweb of supporting struts braced each of them, but even in their structural necessity they managed to look like a complex work of art.
                The empress had half a mind to ask Wendigo about them, but all thoughts of external architectural details were thrown from her mind when she saw the interior of the palace’s entrance hall.
                Much like the rest of Serenitas, it was a love-letter to gilt marble and bright, white stonework. A golden carpet ran the length of the room, flanked by marble columns that disappeared towards the vaulted and painted ceiling, and led up to a staircase that could have easily held a generous townhouse. Enormous landscape paintings at regular intervals along the walls showed the natural marvels that the White Alliance held, and below them were shining metallic doors leading to goodness only knew where. Plinths were stationed around many of the columns and in between the doors in support of marble busts, ornate vases, thank you notes from other empires, and sculptures of baby animals. There wasn’t a skull in sight, except those implicitly contained within the heads of creatures which weren’t being actively tortured or murdered, and it almost brought the empress to tears. As it was, her emotions were held in check by confusion.
                Thanks to the columns and the plinths, Adirn would have said that the floor space was busy enough for an entrance hall. It didn’t need any additional furnishing or clutter, and certainly nothing needed to draw the eye away from the artefacts and artwork on display. Divine Light Thomas Light apparently disagreed, and felt that there should be much, much more comfort available. Just to her right as she stood there, barely inside the doorway, was a chaise-longue. About twice as long as any human would reasonably require, it sat with red satin upholstery above elm carpentry, and was almost lost underneath half a dozen over-sized cushions. And it was not the only one. Sitting between every pair of columns, mirrored on both sides of the golden carpet, and offering no justification for their presence, was pair-after-pair of additional chaises-longue. Their colouration explored the whole rainbow and every hue that the White Alliance’s haberdashers could contrive, and if there was another cushion left in the empire after the number taken up by the chaises-longue then Adirn would have been genuinely surprised. The Radiant Citadel was so nearly a monument to good taste, but spoiled at the last minute by its obsession with reclined seats and insufficient back support.
                “Wow.” The empress said simply, feeling that some comment would be expected of her. She wanted to compliment the artwork, and to admire the columns, but she was too distracted by the mauve chaise-longue in the middle distance.
                “The Radiant Citadel is a sight to behold, your eminence, and I am glad that you find it to your liking.” Said Wendigo.
                Adirn risked a glance up at Keto, whose nose was wrinkling at what he saw, and felt relieved that it wasn’t just her.
                “That it is. I like the…” The empress started to reply. She desperately wanted to mention how beautifully the staircase climbed up to the upper levels, but it couldn’t get space in her mind. “… the ochre chaise-longue there with the diamond cushions.”
                Wendigo Springtime stifled the vast majority of a defeated sigh.
                “Divine Light Thomas Dove wishes for all visitors to find a place to rest their bones within the Citadel, your eminence. And he wishes for that rest to be of the finest calibre.”
                “Very kind and wise of his divinity.” Adirn replied carefully.
                Wendigo simply nodded, before resuming his walk along the golden carpet. About two-thirds of the way along, about level with a pair of violet chaises-longue adorned with triangular pillows, he diverted to the right and opened a polished silver door to reveal a small, cylindrical room with no apparent exit. He stepped through, turned, and beckoned for the Onyxians to follow.
                “Please, join me. Your guest quarters are on the second, third, and fourth floors. We would not deem to make you climb so many stairs.” He explained.
                Keto stood fast in place and rested a cautioning hand on the empress’ shoulder.
                “You wish for us to enter a room with no exit.” He threatened. Adirn had learned that Keto could form a threat from any sentence he pleased.
                “Oh!” Wendigo chuckled. “This is a moving floor. I can see why you might feel suspicious, but this will lift us up to your room. We have thermal water jets from beneath the city that power a series of winches and chains, and they will drag this floor up to where we need to be without the effort of climbing stairs.”
                Keto narrowed his eyes and continued not to move.
                “In that case you would freely demonstrate without fear, correct?”
                “Captain Toxis, I’m sure that we can trust what Wendigo says.” Adirn said to Keto softly. She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the insinuation he was making.
                “Not a problem at all. Please, excuse my absence while I show you the process.” Wendigo said graciously, as calmly as he could under suspicion of attempting to murder an empress. Just visible from where the empress and Keto stood was a polished brass lever set into the wall of the small chamber. Governor Springtime pulled the lever downwards and, after a short delay, the sound of rushing and hissing steam began to emanate from the walls themselves. Captain Toxis and his pair of hitherto unimpressive imperial guards flinched into readiness, perhaps anticipating attack from an enormous beetle or angry goose, but before any such assault occurred they saw the floor beneath Wendigo start to smoothly climb. Underneath the rush of steam came the clanking of chains and gears, also hidden somewhere within the walls of the citadel.
                The empress’ jaw dropped open at the marvel she was seeing, and Wendigo cracked a victorious smile.
                “It is impressive, I expect, to see this for the first time.” He said, rising upwards.
                “Highly so.” Adirn murmured to his feet, which were now at eye-level. As he left view entirely the empress peered into the space where the floor used to be, and saw an unassuming, shallow cavity to accommodate the moving platform itself whenever it came to rest at the bottom. Painted brightly in the centre was a notice:
                “Please don’t stand here. We wouldn’t want your immaculately groomed hair to be crushed under a moving floor of stone, or your stay to be spoiled by it.”
                “This is incredible.” She said to Keto. He was scowling at the chamber.
                “Looks to me like it could be a crushing device that they’ve disguised as a way of ascending. Stairs can’t crush a person, and I can’t stab a falling lump of rock, eminence. I would advise caution.” He warned.
                “If we all held it up, we could keep the empress safe. Our strength wouldn’t fail you, eminence.” Added one of Keto’s chosen escort. The empress turned to face the woman who’d spoken, and recognised her as the one who’d lashed herself along the horse’s side. It did nothing for Adirn’s confidence in her judgement.
                “A noble offer, but unnecessary. I believe this is an honest-to-goodness masterpiece for travelling between heights. Imagine how different the climb up God-Gouger Tower would be if we had one of these!”
                “Why would anyone ever climb God-Gouger Tower, eminence? Nothing happens up there. Certainly not meetings of a council which hides from the light. Nope. Never heard of any such thing.” The woman replied, swallowing hard with wide-eyes.
                Adirn narrowed her eyes, and then her head hung. She rubbed at her forehead.
                “What’s your name, please, soldier?”
                She heard the woman’s armour start to rattle as she shook.
                “I swear! No-one knows anything about the top of God-Gouger Tower eminence! It’s empty as far as we all know!”
                “I’m not threatening you and you’re not in trouble. Please just tell me your name. You too.” She said, pointing towards the second escort-soldier.
                “Respond to your empress.” Keto snapped, deftly undoing Adirn’s attempts to defuse the situation.
                “Elizabeth Ichorborn, eminence.” The woman replied, snapping to attention dutifully, with fear carved into her face.
                “Cassandra Spite, eminence. The Butcher of Cold Valley.” Said the other with a respectful nod.
                “The Butcher of Cold Valley…” Adirn muttered, shaking her head. “…we’ll address that situation later. The point is that it doesn’t need to be a secret that the Dark Council meets atop God-Gouger Tower, nor do you need to fear me.”
                “We will not fail you again, eminence.” Cassandra said, coolly. Elizabeth remained still and stoic, her jaw tensed enough that the empress feared for her teeth.
                “Lovely to meet both of you two, Cassandra Spite and Elizabeth Ichorborn.” Wendigo Springtime said. The empress half collapsed as she flinched at the voice, and Keto diplomatically propped her back up to her feet.
                “You surprised me!” Adirn said, turning about as red as she could without having an open wound on her cheek.
                “Many apologies, eminence. But as you can see I have returned entirely unharmed from my journey on the moving floor. Does this lay your mind to rest, Captain Toxis?”
                “No.” he said simply.
                “Well it does mine. I appreciate your concern, Captain Toxis, but let us not forget the fate of Emperor Pious Cutpurse at the hands of a staircase. We are perfectly safe if Wendigo here says we are.”
                “As you wish, eminence.” Keto grumbled. “Cass, Liz; I’ll need you to be ready to brace against the walls in case the platform should drop beneath us, and also be ready to catch any further platforms which might fall from above. The empress is to be kept safe at all costs if this transpires to be a trap.”
                “Aye, sir.” They chorused in reply.
                Without ever showing a shred of disdain for what he was hearing, Wendigo Springtime stepped aside to allow his guests into the chamber with him. Hands folded in front of his stomach, he waited patiently.
                Keto took a cautious step forwards and placed one foot onto the platform. It didn’t move underneath him, or cause any hidden trapdoors to spring open with hidden assassins, or trigger another enormous weight to collapse down the shaft. In fact, when he looked up he saw nothing more sinister than a metal cage connected to a series of chains. If Wendigo spoke truly, then those chains would be connected to winches further up. There were no arrow-slits or any obvious shredding blades further up, just another doorway awaiting them on the next floor up.
                He looked Adirn in the face, and then shrugged.
                “Wonderful.” She said, walking in after him. Cassandra and Elizabeth brought up the rear and, with Captain Toxis as the third point, formed a defensive triangle around the empress.
                “Ascending now, your eminence.” Wendigo told them, pulling the lever once more. Again, the hissing of steam erupted around them, and the chains began to wind from above.  With surprising grace and evenness the platform started to rise, giving the empress a most peculiar sensation in her stomach but not a blade in any part of her anatomy.
                True to their word the escorts each held one hand out towards the exterior walls and one above their heads, such that either threat might be arrested swiftly, but no danger arose for them to defeat. In a few short seconds the sounds died away and the platform arrived at the second floor.
                 “That was remarkable, Governor Springtime. I would be most interested in having something similar installed in my own Imperial Palace.” Adirn said, facing a second silver doorway. This one had a polished “2” affixed to it.
                “I will place a request with Divine Light Thomas Dove and his most radiant engineers, your eminence.” Wendigo replied tactfully. “But for now, please enjoy the comforts of your guest suite. After you, if you would please.”
                Cassandra, being closest to the door, pushed it open for the empress. From the room beyond there rushed a current of thickly perfumed air that swirled into the moving chamber and infused their heads, like a wildflower meadow being inserted nasally. Immediately Adirn’s eyes started to water and her airways felt that they would clog shut.
                “Bloody heck.” Cassandra blurted.
                “My goodness!” Adirn choked in agreement. “That’s certainly a powerful aroma.”
                “It is a blend created by Divine Light Thomas Dove himself, your eminence.” Wendigo explained. It almost sounded like he sighed as he spoke. “He likes his home and his guests to smell as sweet as the intentions they surely hold.”
                “I see.” She forced from her rapidly closing throat.
                “I will locate the windows forthwith, eminence. By hinge or blade they will be opened.” Keto muttered conspiratorially in her ear, and the empress nodded enthusiastically.
                “Please.” Governor Springtime once again said. Reluctantly, Adirn stepped from the chamber and into the heart of the aromatic assault.
                The empress’ own living quarters in the Imperial Palace, known until recently as the Imperial Malignancy Chambers, were ostentatious to a fault; to several faults if she was being honest. They were also decadent beyond any realm of taste. Their floors were cluttered with instruments of pain and mementos of cruelty, and they wore on their sleeve the ideals of a legacy of insane tyrants.  The guest quarters of the Radiant Citadel, it seemed, were forced to wear the insanity of another.
                To call them living quarters would have been true, but not accurate. Typically such facilities required a certain quantity of empty space to move around, to unpack, to relax, or to discuss. What Adirn found, and what she kicked herself for failing to expect, was a labyrinth of chaises-longue that knew no end, and assuredly no logic. Crammed in as tightly as any furniture warehouse, and Adirn couldn’t imagine how any mind, no matter how sick, could possibly think that this would provide comfort to any tenant.
                In reality, it was a miracle that the empress could recognise what is was that the labyrinth comprised; every one of the structural chaises-longue was buried beneath a landslide of throw cushions, flocked pillows, and thick, fluffy blankets. So high was the quantity of bedding that the only purpose it could possibly serve was to deprive the room of capacity to store oxygen, although realistically the air in these chambers was mostly perfume. If only they could mine their way down through the accessories to the level of the chaises-longue themselves, they would have been able to provide room and board for half of the Onyxian military.
                “Oh, this is…” Adirn started, but felt no shame in failing to end the sentence.
                It was to seating what Katherine’s library was to books. A series of narrow pathway were visible between the reclined seats that led into further rooms of the guest quarters. “… I mean… it’s much appreciated but, er, do the remaining rooms have quite this many… you know?”
                Wendigo, tactfully covering his nose with one sleeve to stem the tide of perfume, emerged from the chamber behind them.
                “If you would like it to be so then it can be arranged, your eminence. However we elected to leave your bedroom and your washroom with fewer chaises-longue than this reception room. Divine Light Thomas Dove wished for us to make it clear to you that more will be brought in the instant you request them, so that you do not think that we deprive you deliberately.”
                “That won’t be necessary.” Adirn declined, far faster than she’d meant to. Wendigo nevertheless gave a grateful nod.
                “We won’t want for firewood, either.” Elizabeth observed.
                “She is joking of course.” The empress hurriedly added to Governor Springtime, who looked a little disappointed at the clarification.
                “They are there to use as you wish, your eminence. Please do feel free to make yourselves as comfortable as you would in your own home.” He said, giving Elizabeth a meaningful, almost pleading look. “Now, may I show you around?”
                After some deft chaise-longue mountaineering to take his position at the front of the party, Wendigo led Adirn and her retinue around the seat-maze and gave them a full tour of the living chambers. The empress’ bedroom had barely a handful of chaises-longue, and they were pushed to the sides of the room to make way for a grand sixteen-poster bed. Each of the four traditional corner posts had been split into four, with smaller sub-beds that looked suspiciously like a particular much-seen item of seating enclosed in their perimeters. Attached was a decadent washroom with waterproof chaises-longue and a particularly deep example with taps at one end.
                Another ride in the moving-floor chamber took the party up to the next floor of the guest chambers, and held the guest dining room. It covered more-or-less the entire floor, and came complete with a table and several chaises on which to sit at it. Along the walls were numerous ornamental weapons that had, in all likelihood, been used to overthrow her predecessors.
                “Meals may be prepared at any time you please, your eminence, and they shall be brought here to you tonight and in the morning as you require.” Wendigo explained.
                “Will Divine Light Thomas Dove be joining me?” Adirn asked, trying not to sound nervous and not really succeeding.
                “Not this night, your eminence. He prefers to give his guests time to relax and settle in after a long day of travelling, and meet them once they have the advantage of a good night’s sleep. Your audience with him shall be tomorrow morning.”
                “Very well.” She accepted, unsure whether she felt relieved or patronised. “Where next?”
                “Above here are the quarters of your retinue, eminence. If you wish to inspect them then I shall be more than happy to show you.”
                “No, no that’s fine. Thank you Wendigo.”
                “Most welcome, your eminence. Your luggage will be here presently, and I will inform the kitchens of your arrival. I recommend, if I may do so, that you take this time to recuperate from your journey. Do you require anything else of me?”
                “Just one thing. Are the windows locked?”
                “No, your eminence. They open freely.”
                “Wonderful.” She said earnestly, grateful that she would neither need to create a cover story for why the glass had been immediately vandalised, nor live with the perfume for a moment longer than necessary. “Thank you for your advice, Wendigo, and please pass on my gratitude for Divine Light Thomas Dove’s hospitality. And his many chaises-longue.” Adirn added. She could see Wendigo’s professional façade flicker at the mere mention of them.
                “Of course, your eminence. Please ring for me if you have any need at all. Goodnight.”
                As the governor let himself out by a door in the rear of the dining room, Adirn gave the order for Keto, Cassandra and Elizabeth to open every path of ventilation that the quarters had. The empress looked around herself at the obvious and confusing insanity of the man to whom she had come for help, and sighed. Nothing was ever easy.