Empress Adirn 14: From Humble Beginnings

 “I am just so glad that you took us up on our offer!” Bertha Humble said, smiling brightly in the doorway to her home. “I do apologise about taking so long to answer the door, but you know what it’s like when you’re trying to wake up, dress and get a lantern after a hard day working the fields.” There wasn’t a hint of passive aggression in her voice, nor was there any shock or resentment that she’d been woken in the dead of night; the woman seemed genuinely thrilled to have guests. The empress couldn’t fathom it. “When I noticed that it was guests at the door I had to make sure to get the kettle boiling too; after all, I can’t very well have you sitting around waiting all that time for a warming cup of cocoa or leaf infusions.”
                “That’s perfectly alright, Bertha. I hope you will accept my apologies for preying on your hospitality so late into the night. Please, allow us to present you with the gift of a fine chaise-longue from the Radiant Citadel itself.” Adirn replied, standing suddenly awkwardly in the doorway to Humble Farmhouse. She indicated behind herself towards the imperial carriage, its open doors displaying a decadent black chaise-longue which had, until moments earlier, served as a makeshift hospital bed. Bertha didn’t need that bit of trivia, the empress decided.
                “Oh that is so kind” Bertha exclaimed, clapping both hands to the sides of her face. “But I couldn’t possibly accept such a fine gift from you, your eminence. We already have so many of our own.” She stepped inwards and gestured to the dozen or so of them that comprised her living room. “It’s all thanks to Thomas Dove’s ‘Chaises for the Ages’ decree.”
                “My goodness me, that man has a vision and he sees it through.” Was the best that Adirn could do without swearing.
                “Oh, but where are my manners, please come in! I’ll have one of the lads fetch and tether your horses while you get settled in. You must have had a long and hard journey from Serenitas if you’re only arriving here now! And…” she sniffed gently at the air “… and did you pass through some kind of smokehouse or forest fire on the way? You have an excellent taste in the smokes you pass through if so.”
                “Something of that sort, yes.” The empress evaded, allowing herself to be shown into the Humble Farmhouse that was anything but. “Thank you kindly. We will try not to impose upon you.”
                “Not at all! You were invited and are always welcome. Always.” The farmer said. She waited for Adirn to make eye contact again before repeating: “Always.”
                “Much appreciated.”
                “Gosh are you hurt, my love?” Bertha continued upon spotting Keto’s limp. “You poor thing, I’ll take a look at that just as soon as I’ve fixed drinks for everybody. How many of you can I expect? You seem to have a larger party than I recall from the road the other day.” The train of people kept walking in, and she scanned every face with a broad, beaming smile. Every one of them was complimented for their manners, their clear expertise in blade care, or their wonderful choice of haircut.
                “Erm… I don’t know for sure. I think perhaps around fifty?” The empress replied guiltily.
                “Wonderful! I’ll make sure the barns and guest room are all prepared for you. The more the merrier. But I don’t see your driver anywhere? I’d never forget that look of friendly terror on his face when I said hello and your guards told him to keep driving.”
                “I… I’m afraid that he was killed. We were ambushed on the road and he didn’t make it.”
                “Oh that is a shame. Nevermind though, he’s at peace now eh!” Bertha smiled, shrugging off the driver’s mortality and carrying on with her general bustling. She didn’t actually seem to be achieving anything, but there was an indomitable bustle to everything that she did. “I’ll just prepare the big pots of hot drinks and then everyone can have what they like. Please, make yourself at home in the living room and I’ll be back in barely a moment.”
                Watching Bertha shuffle away, overjoyed at the prospect of providing for so many guests, Countess Lascera leaned against one wall of the living room rather than depositing herself on any of the chaises-longue. She wore a curious grin on her face, intrigued by everything about the farmer.
                “Is that what everyone in this land is like?” She asked, bemused.
                “More or less, yeah.” Elizabeth Ichorborn replied. She’d taken up a reclined position by the window, such that she could watch for danger whilst also relaxing. “We picked up near a hundred shoes in Serenitas and someone tried to give me their horse while we rode past.”
                “Sadly, Thomas Dove and his Illuminators are less benevolent and trusting.” Adirn lamented. “Not that it really matters now. It seems that the Dark Council weren’t willing to give me three days, let alone the two years they prom-“ she stopped herself “for which they were blackmailed.”
                “At least you get to enact your blackmail of them this way.” Lascera said. Keto nodded his agreement, whilst slowly removing his boot. His bloodied and bandaged foot slipped itself free with barely a wince from the guard captain, and he let it rest on a blue chaise-longue with golden binding.
                “Right. I need you to tell me what’s happened in the empire while I’ve been away please, Countess. Who did this? Whose support can I count on?” The empress asked, making a steeple of her fingers whilst leaning back on a green and red chaise-longue with silver tassels.
                “Do feel free to call me Evi, eminence.” Countess Lascera said.
                “Short for Evelyn?” Adin asked before she could stop herself. As soon as the words had left her mouth she grimaced; of course it wouldn’t be short for Evelyn.
                “Eviscirati.” Countess Lascera grinned. “It’s a bit of a mouthful to go by Countess Eviscerati Lascera all the time, and I think Evi sounds… disarming. Makes for a nice surprise when people get to know my business-like side.”
                The empress didn’t need to hear anything more than that on the topic. She just nodded.
                “What has happened in my empire, Evi?”
                “It was a case of poor timing, eminence. Or perhaps fortunate timing. I don’t know.” She started. Although nursing his wounded foot, Keto had cocked his head to one side to listen. “It was the very evening after you departed when Auros the Crippler finally returned from her visit to the Disciples of the Ever-Listening Ear. They are, reportedly, not listening any longer.”
                Adirn closed her eyes and tried to file that transgression away for later.
                “Auros, it seems, had received all the messages sent for her to return, but wasn’t willing to do so until her business had been concluded. She made it perfectly clear to the rest of us on the Dark Council that no ruler will tell her to stop a glorious crusade against ear-kind for such feeble notions as legislation or reform. The cause of sending a sliver of head-meat far into the recesses of the skull, as she so decorously put it, was the very purpose of her being and the call of her lifetime.”
                “I cannot begin to imagine what this woman is like.” The empress confessed.
                “You’re better off that way.” Keto said. Countess Lascera nodded.
                “She’s got a commitment to her craft, and that’s something to which I can relate.” Evi said, patting at her wet satchel. It made the empress gag again.
                “I wish you would leave that in a trunk or something. Does it need to be here with you? I don’t think Bertha would appreciate it being in her home.”
                “Oh everyone and everything is welcome here!” Bertha beamed, bustling back into the room with a hot towel for Keto’s foot and a steaming flagon for his mouth. “What do you have in there? A precious family heirloom to show off? Or gifts for the town’s children? I can add them to my normal delivery round if you’d like.”
                “It’s the fruits of-”
                “Please don’t, Evi.”
                “Please do! I would love to hear all about whatever is precious to you.”
                “You really don’t want to.”
                “It’s a whole, fresh human skin.” Countess Lascera announced, speaking over the empress with broad, pride smile as if it were a perfectly normal achievement of which to boast. “I cut it off a bandit earlier today.”
                “Oh, well you must be very proud and even more skilled! That would take an expert’s steady hand.” Bertha praised. With flared nostrils and a furrowed brow the empress stared up at her host’s face. “It’s lovely to have a hobby, especially in situations like yours, which sounds a little on the trying side. But your bag looks so wet… I’ll fill a barrel of tanning solution if you’d like, and we can get underway with cleaning and preparing the skin. No sense in letting it go to waste because of inadequate storage conditions.”
                Countess Lascera joined Adirn in frowning concernedly at Bertha. People were normally shocked or repulsed by a newly harvested human hide.
                “You want to tan it...?”
                “Only if you do!”
                “But you’re willing to let me bring a person’s flesh in here and do what I like with it?”
                “Of course! What kind of host would I be if I didn’t make allowance for the variety of interests that my potential guests might have?” She laughed jovially, placing one hand on her own stomach. “All are welcome and no-one is judged at Humble Farm, my new friend. There’s enough of everything prepared in the kitchen for all of you to get something to drink. I’ll be setting up the workbench in the tanning basement, but if anyone should need something then please summon me right away.”
                “Right. Thank you.” Adirn said in slow disbelief, as Bertha bustled out of the room again. Countess Lascera looked down at her skin bag a little dejectedly; the Humble woman had rather dulled the edge of its fun. “Please, Evi, continue.”
                Countess Lascera allowed her gaze to linger on the bag for a moment or so longer and then faced the empress again.
                “Of course, your eminence. Auros tore through the Dark Council like The Agoniser through a debtor’s abdomen - The Agoniser is my blade, by the way - when she was told of the edicts you had passed under their watch. She’s got a distinctly crimson hue to her face at the best of times; it’s almost as if the flesh had been freshly peeled back thanks to her gift, her talent, her unnatural propensity for inextinguishable rage. You’ve not seen a person lose their temper until you’ve seen Auros The Crippler denied something she wants, or given something she doesn’t want, or given what she wants exactly when she wants it but happens to be in a bad mood. Imagine a tornado of broken glass passing through a field of wet bread and you’ll stand some chance of picturing Auros the Crippler’s impact on a room of people.”
                “Wet bread is about as much use as the rest of the Dark Council.” Adirn muttered before she could stop herself.
                “The Crippler was one of Emperor Tyrranick’s favoured enforcers of his will, your eminence.” Keto reinforced. His foot was rested up on a low stool, wrapped in the bandaging and soothing ointments that Lascera’s retinue had provided. An unpleasant red patch was starting to reach the surface. “Fear was his greatest motivator, and none caused it quite like Auros.”
                “Certainly she was effective, but she’s a blunt instrument.” Sneered Evi. “There’s no finesse, no artistry to her crude mechanisms. Anyone can apply pressure to a person’s head, but I’d like to see her try removing a human hide in a single piece, or even build a gallows or a good, high quality drowning pool.” Adirn looked at her with disgust. “That is to say, I wouldn’t like to actually see it, I would like to… er… I think she would be bad at it.”
                “I know what you mean, but I would rather not have heard those particular examples. You could like to see her trying to mediate a trade dispute or discuss litigation, instead of constructing the perfect apparatus to make someone fill their lungs with water. I daresay that agreeing the correct wording for a law is a sight more finessed than digging a hole and putting some water in it.” The empress chided.
                “You underestimate the art! Where is the drowner to stand? Should they kneel on the dirty ground and wear out their back by leaning out over the water? If not, then they will need a platform and some apparatus to dunk the victim. How do you maintain high water even during a drought? What maintenance regime is followed to ensure that the water stays clear enough to watch the life leave the victim’s eyes?”
                “I… that’s all revolting! I don’t know and I don’t care to.”
                “Revolting it might be but simple it isn’t. Just a hole with water indeed! There’s a lot you would need to learn about industrialised drownings if you ever chose to restart the industry.”
                “Look, I don’t want to learn anything about it and I would prefer that the whole empire forgets it. I take your point that Auros is a blunt instrument and the rest of you are masters of your respective outlawed trades.”
                “Exactly. She knows nothing of nuance or compromise, and cannot see why anyone else would bother with either. So her apoplexy when she was told of the mutual blackmails could charitably be described as a natural disaster, given the carnage it wrought. It took Baron Infernus, Count Rott and Lady Vipus all working together to pull her off Tabius Lloyd.”
                “I wish they hadn’t bothered.”
                “Ha! You and me both, your eminence. He got away lightly, I’m sad to say; only lost half an inch of ear depth. Nonetheless, it was amusing to look upon his discomfort and it was enough to set events in motion among the rest of the Dark Council. They were all more afraid of the proximate Auros than the distant empress, and they were emboldened by her defiance of any new rulings.”
                “And Viscount Sinistere took the chance to seize the throne from me there and then?” The empress speculated, propping her head up with one hand. “I knew he was a vicious, untrustworthy little slime but of all of the council members to take the throne I would not have expected him to do it.”
                “You overestimate his spine and underestimate his understanding of the empire, your eminence. Had his oiliness Sinistere wanted to sit upon the throne he could have claimed succession ahead of you, or even Tyrranick. None of the Dark Council would ever seek to rule because we know it’s a death sentence; our peers would make it as fatal for eahother as anyone else. No, he did not willingly ascend to the throne. He was just too weak when Auros declared him to be the figurehead usurper. You should have seen it, eminence, the way he crumbled under her gaze and shook as she ordered him to take power. He was a limp, beached jellyfish in the shadow of a colossus, one with a foot raised high to crush anything that failed to get out of the way. He was shaking for every second that she spoke, and never stopped even as he sent for his army to march on the City of Torment.” Countess Lascera recounted wistfully, a nostalgic grin spread wide across her face.
                “He sits on the throne unwillingly?” Adirn asked more quietly, a small bloom of pity arising in the front of her mind. “I know all too well what that feels like; how lonely and terrifying it is to have that target painted on you.”
                “Ha! You have not seen his ‘rule’. Fear of anything other than Auros did not last long, your eminence. Once she’d led ‘his’ coup on the Imperial Palace and personally seated him upon your onyx throne, he seemed to find some hidden pool of vindictive energy. Everyone did, in fact. They were inspired by Auros’ resolve and the sight of a new emperor. Immediately he decreed that the Dark Council could continue with their ‘businesses of heritage’, ordered a golden statue of himself to be erected in the audience hall, and began listing some incredibly inventive taxes on the village of Poverton in particular. The False Emperor Sinistere is a great many things, your eminence, but he is neither lonely nor scared any longer.”
                “I’ve always disliked him you know.” Adirn told the room, to no-one’s surprise. “All that sucking up and sycophantic crawling; he made me feel dirty every time he opened that greasy maw of his.”
                “A sentiment I share, your eminence.” Evi replied.  Her hand played eagerly across one of her blades.
                “That’s how he’s always survived, I presume? Crawling into the ruler’s shadow in search of special favours and stabbing them in the back as soon as he can?”
                Captain Toxis nodded. “It is the crowning glory of his line that they were always in the ruler’s pocket.”
                “Or another cavity very close to it.” Sniggered the countess.
                Adirn shuddered and tried to move away from that disquieting image.
                “So what then? He ordered for me to be arrested?”
                “Yes, that’s about it. The Dark Council was called to meet immediately after he seized power, and he announced that his traitor hunters would bring you back to face punishment for crimes against the empire. Auros wanted to come after you personally, of course, but she was instead tasked with rounding up those who had refused to pay their dues under your reign and… how did Sinistere word it… ‘prevent them from hearing any further dissenting ideals’.”
                “Everything I’ve worked for… he’s undone it in mere days…”
                “Oh it’ll be worse than that!” The countess said, smiling a bit too much for Adirn’s liking. “The Dark Council are drunk on the prospect of exercising their craft again. They’ll go through the peasantry like a flaying knife through an eyelid.”
                As Adirn gagged and Keto nodded matter-of-factly, Bertha Humble once again bustled into the room. In her arms was a tray the size of a small city, covered completely by an array freshly baked pastries. The smells of a baker’s kitchen immediately filled the room, carrying notes of jams, custard, sweet glazes, honey, and even, somewhere in the hidden recesses of the aromatic landscape, stinging nettles.
                “The tanning equipment is all set up for you, my love. If you should wish to make use of it then you go right ahead.” Beamed the eternal dawn of Bertha Humble’s smile. “But I hope you’ll join everyone else in having a wee bite first! There should be enough for everyone, but I’ve got more in the oven just in case.”
                “My goodness… thank you Bertha.” Said the empress, as the tray was lowered down and offered around the room. There was easily more food on this tray than she’d ever seen in the dining room of the Imperial Palace, and the sheer number of varieties was incomprehensible. There was absolutely no way that Bertha could have baked any of them in the time since the Onyxian delegation’s arrival, let alone prepared them beforehand.
                “The pleasure is entirely mine, your eminence. It’s so good of you to come here and bring me this many guests for company! Please, take as many as you like.” The tray was thrust politely but firmly under Adirn’s nose. Many of the shapes on display were never-before-seen by the imperial eyes, ranging from simple crescent croissants, through elaborate polygons of every variety with filled centres and generous dustings of sugar, right up to bizarrely alien constructions of physics-defying pastry architecture. For nearly half a minute the empress held her hand out, frozen by choice paralysis at the bready confusion before her, until she finally grabbed at one of the peculiar shapes covered in pumpkin seeds.
                “This one will be plenty for now, thank you ever so much.” She said, hoping to placate Bertha’s eager grin.
                “You just help yourself to more or let me know if you fancy something else, eminence. And might I just say what a wonderful choice it was, and how good you probably are at verbal comprehension.”
                Adirn nodded, more interested in what was in her hands. She’d never before seen an accurate recreation of a tornado rendered entirely in filo pastry. There was a pastry cloud of dust at the bottom, which had also served as a base and stand, and it rose up in an unaccountably satisfying spiralled cone. Protruding from the surface of the baked wind was all manner of modelled debris, from delicately shaped farmers to disconcertingly accurate cattle. Rotating it in her hands in search of the best point of dental ingress, she became darkly aware of the sharp, well-defined corners of the tiny pastry wagons near the top; they could almost certainly be used to cut through a soft coniferous wood if she’d been of a mind to try it. Eventually she settled for a base-upwards approach and, in a display of imperial hubris the likes of which might never have been seen before, the empress began to eat a tornado.
                After the harrowing discussion of a coup and the re-instigation of empire-wide atrocities, there was a few minutes of curious calm, containing nothing but the quiet chewing of baked goods and flaking pastry. More than once Adirn caught Cassandra and Elizabeth grinding fallen pieces of pastry into the carpet or kicking them underneath their seats, but the chastisement couldn’t make it out of the imperial mouth between bites of the tornado. Besides, it was better than the way Countess Lascera tapped hers over the unoccupied seats like a burned-down cigarette. Keto was the only one who seemed to be able to avoid showering the immediate vicinity in crumbs and flakes; it was just another infuriating display of his casual super-competence.
                “Well. I think I needed that.” Adirn announced when she was done. Her clothing had been left thickly coated by the snowfall of pastry from her mouth, and just too late she noticed herself subconsciously brushing it all onto the floor. Cassandra immediately caught her eye and, with a conspiratorial smile, motioned for the empress to stamp it down and drag it back under her own seat.
                “So. Sinistere sent the traitor-hunters after me and you then snuck out to chase them?”
                “Right away, your eminence.”
                “Forgive me, Evi, but… but I don’t understand why you did so. Surely you would have been happier with freedom to flay? You were the only one to openly attack me when my decree was passed and now you’re the only one to fight for my return?”
                Countess Lascera smirked.
                “As I said before, Sinistere snuck upon the throne like a coward whether it was his own idea or not, whereas you won my respect. You’re the only person to ever break me, you know? You so elegantly tortured me for a whole day, without even needing to raise a hand against me directly, and you left no mark to show what had happened… it was beautiful. I have employed the same technique of bladder-wracking on my own staff since and found it to be a… slow-burning but delectable alternative to flaying under your regime.”
                “I did not torture you!”
                “I think I know when I’m being tortured, your eminence. I have much practice with the art.” She grinned. “But your dedication to the name of the denier is laudable.”
                “Oh for goodness sakes!”
                “Sinistere on the other hand?” Evi continued “He would never have dared to try something so novel and diabolical. He has no backbone, no grit, no determination other than to linger by those stronger than himself. He is Auros’ puppet on the throne, and it makes me sick to look upon him taking away the seat from which you taught me the bladder-wrack.”
                “Well I, er, I am grateful for your loyalty EVi. Even if I wish it was for different reasons. I will be forever indebted to your intervention in saving my life and that of my retinue.”
                “And will that debt be paid with flaying rights?” Asked the countess with an expectant grin.
                “Erm… we’ll see.”
                “That means no, doesn’t it?”
                “Probably.”
                Countess Lascera shrugged.
                “Makes it all the more important that I get this hide prepared.” She said, slapping at the wet satchel again. “If I have your leave, eminence?”
                “Yes, please get that away from me.”
                With a smirk and a bow, Countess Lascera stood up and carried her satchel out of the room. Faintly, the sound of Bertha enthusiastically directing Evi to the basement carried through the house, as well as several offers of help.
                “This is not the situation in which I had expected to find myself.” The empress said to no-one in particular.
                “You are surrounded by those loyal to you, eminence. And with my foot injured I fear that I am useless to you, so you are safer here than you would be in the imperial palace.” Keto argued.
                “Well yes, but that’s still outside my expectation. Safety and loyalty aren’t things that I am accustomed to from many people other than you.”
                Captain Toxis shrugged.
                “We need to formulate a plan. And to take stock of Countess Lascera’s forces, our collective armaments, and a more permanent place to hide away where we’re not preying on Bertha Humble’s hospitality. If we don’t take back control of the City of Torment then thousands of people will die, Keto, and it will be my fault for winding the Dark Council into such a frenzy.”
                “What you need, eminence, is some sleep.” Bertha said from the doorway. “You’re never preying on my hospitality so take that silly notion out of that wonderfully caring head of yours. Clearly you’re too addled by sleepiness to make any plans if you’re entertaining thoughts like that.”
                Keto nodded. Reclined with his foot up, he looked closer to taking a rest than the empress had ever seen him.
                “But every moment we waste is another moment that Sinistere could be using to hurt people.” She protested weakly.
                “Whatever this Sinistere character is up to I’m sure they’ll think better of it under the light of a new day. And sleep deprivation won’t help you to do anything, eminence. The sun will rise in a few hours, and you all need to rest. The Humbles will proudly keep you all safe so you needn’t fear anything, and you can make your plans in the morning once I’ve been able to cook you a proper breakfast, rather than these meagre pastry snacks. Come on, I’ll take you to the guest room first, and then I’ll show everyone else to their bedding for the night. I’ll bet you have an undeniable talent for sleeping and it would be tremendous for you to demonstrate that talent now.”
                Suddenly feeling every moment of her wakefulness weigh heavily upon her, too heavily to let her argue, Adirn nodded meekly and allowed Bertha to take control of the situation. Hopefully, in the light of the morning, the outlook would be brighter.
               
                For the second time, Adirn Deepgrave awoke as a guest in the White Alliance. Sunlight pierced the wooden shutters of her window in thin lines, casting a pattern of bright bars on the sheets but respectfully avoiding her eyes. This time around, however, she did not feel as well rested, and by some cruelty of fate was feeling even more anxious; she had been deposed by a conspiracy of Auros and Sinistere, her closest ally and friend had a hole in his foot, and her vastly outnumbered military force was at the command of a renowned flayer. The situation, in a nutshell, was sub-optimal.
                Dejectedly she rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Solid oaken beams ran across perfectly joined boards that must have formed the floor of the attic above. Maybe she could just hide up there forever, under Bertha Humble’s care, as a political refugee. Sure, her bodyweight would balloon under the volume of hospitably proffered snacks, but that would kill her more slowly than another squad of traitor-hunters. She sighed; these were old thoughts that had already been refuted on the way to visit Thomas Dove. Abandoning Gwen, or Mary the Skullery maid, or even Katherine, was unjustifiable. Then there were the thousands of other innocents slaving away in the charcoal ovens or the hanging fields; they couldn’t be left to their fate. But what hope did she have?
                Labouring under the question as she had done all night, Adirn listened to the muffled sounds of movement from elsewhere in the farmhouse. Clearly she was far from the first to awake, and everyone else was getting on with what had to be done. They weren’t paralysed by hopelessness or thoughts of desertion; they had risen and begun their duty, whatever that duty was, because they were loyal to her. Or perhaps because they were bored or just hadn’t thought to do anything but get up and carry on. Ultimately, the empress couldn’t be sure, but the thought of tireless devotion to duty at least gave her enough motivation to swing out of bed and dress herself.
                “Good morning, your eminence!” Bertha cried out happily when Adirn appeared at the foot of the stairs. She was carrying a tray of empty plates back into the kitchen, from whence the sounds of sizzling and crackling emanated out. The aromas of a morning feast filled the ground floor. “Did you sleep well? Can I offer you any more sleep before you’re properly up?”
                “Good morning, Bertha. I slept wonderfully, thank you.” The empress lied, with a strange pang of guilt despite the low stakes of such deceit.
                “Then you must have breakfast. Please, make yourself at home in the dining room and I will bring you something immediately. A head of state needs a full stomach for making the important decisions, that’s what I always say.”
                “It certainly is!” Called a supportive voice from the kitchen.
                With obedience that could equally have been in service of Bertha’s offer or her own rumbling digestive system, Adirn followed the helpful pointing finger and found the dining room already heaving with activity. The table was crammed with soldiers from Countess Lascera’s retinue eating elbow to elbow, with more sitting on the floor, leaning on windowsills, or simply standing with plates in hand. Quite how or why Bertha Humble had so much crockery and cutlery available was a mystery that the empress resigned herself to leaving unsolved, alongside how she could possibly have so much food ready to prepare. The woman was a sorceress of hospitality.
                “Stand for your empress!” Countess Lascera’s voice commanded from a hidden corner somewhere. Without hesitation, the scraping of chairs, clattering of cutlery and cries of elbows colliding with noses engulfed the dining room. Like a combat-ready spaghetti, the previously cramped legion became a roiling mass of entangled limbs and spilled mushrooms as they tried to stand together.
                “No, please, remain seated.” Adirn contradicted in a late, futile effort to mitigate the unfolding carnage. A second wave of scraping and scrapping swept across the dining table as Lascera’s force sat on one another in their effort to follow orders. Evi chuckled to herself malevolently. “Good morning everyone.” The empress said, sheepishly.
                 A muttered chorus of various greetings came back, muffled by half-chewed breakfast.
                “I shall come back when there’s a bit more room, I think.”
                “Nonsense, eminence. Space shall be made for you. Kofi Sinew, Charles Skinhack, Tabitha Fleshrake - up and away to make room for the empress.” Countess Lascera barked. With curtailed groans, three of the soldiers rose amid a brutal skirmish for shoulder space and lifted their plates out of the way. “There you go, eminence.”
                “Thank you, Evi, but it’s not necessary to inconvenience people on my behalf. They need to eat too.”
                “They also need to obey orders. Besides, they’re used to eating cold, wet food under a bush while lurking in ambush; not sitting at a table is hardly going to cause mutinous intent.”
                Unwilling to engage with anything she’d just heard, Adirn took up her place at the table. What followed when Bertha arrived could only be described as a tsunami of fried foods, ever rising and threatening to drown the empress no matter how much or how quickly she ate. There was no time to think, let alone speak, in the frenzy of mastication and ingestion that she was forced to conduct; any moment wasted would have consigned her to drowning amid the comestibles. By the time Bertha had finished plating up the kaleidoscope of foodstuffs, having made three separate trips to do so, Adirn felt more rigid than Count Rott’s determination for invasion. Her attempt to completely finish what Bertha Humble had provided was tantamount to trying to drink a whole river dry, and the empress found herself staring vacantly at the somehow undiminished mountain of breakfast before her.
                “Someone else; finish this please.”
                From either side of the empress came pained whimpers, as soldiers in their own pitched battles against poor portion control had no choice but to start overloading themselves with Adirn’s leftovers.
                “All of you are to help.” Ordered Countess Lascera from the doorway, smirking. Further groans came in reply as the empress’ food started to flow from plate to plate by the hands of reluctant diners. Before long she sat in front of nothing more than smears of grease and sauces, and departure with offending Bertha was a viable option. Muttering what thanks she could manage without putting unacceptable pressure on her innards, the empress pushed away from the table and rose from her seat. Without the support of a chair, her stomach made a dramatic revelation of its own incalculably increased mass and pulled heavily downwards at the imperial organs.
                “Oof. I regret this.” She complained, placing both hands on her hips and leaning backwards like a mother-to-be. A few deep breaths in and out gave her the resolve to keep moving, and  waddled unceremoniously from the dining room. Making liberal use of the walls for support and respite, the empress managed to complete her overstuffed journey to the living room without major incident. Inside she found Captain Toxis exactly as she’d left him the previous night, reclined on a chaise-longue with his foot elevated and an impassive expression on his face.
                “Greetings, your eminence.” He said as she leaned on the doorframe for breath. “I see that the Humble woman’s breakfast defeated you as well.”
                Adirn nodded pitifully, and cast a gaze at the captain. A conspicuous doming of his chainmail at the abdomen told her a familiar story.
                “We should bring her back to the Onyx Empire.” Cassandra Spite groaned. Adirn scanned the room carefully, avoiding any movement which might put additional pressure on her rigid gut, and eventually picked out the soldier’s shape lying prone behind an olive green chaise -longue that did nothing to help her delicate constitution. “She would be Bertha the Gut-Render, and give even Baron Infernus a rival.”
                “I think…” The empress panted “… we have a duty to prevent that from ever happening.”
                With a series of heavy steps that reverberated through her body, Adirn made her way over to a opalescent chaise-longue by the window and allowed her face to press limply against the cool glass.
                “We must make a plan. There’s no time to waste in this… digestive fugue.”
                “Yes, of course, your eminence.” Keto replied. He made no attempt to move or offer further comment.
                “The fate of our empire’s people and my rule is threatened by malevolent forces and traitors. What will they say if they knew we lost half a day to over eating.”
                “They would pity us, eminence.” Elizabeth Ichorborn replied. She was draped uselessly over the low table in the centre of the room. “This suffering is greater than anything they will be forced to know by Sinistere’s hand.”
                Familiar rattling from the door pulled the empress’ attention towards Countess Lascera. She smirked as she strode confidently into the room and surveyed the human carnage within.
                “Oh my.”
                “Hello, Evi. You should eat before we agree our plans, as action… ooh… action may need to be swift once our minds are made up.” Adirn garbled, her mouth distorted by pressure against the glass.
                “I have eaten already, eminence. With my soldiers.”
                Cassandra tried to lift an eyebrow, but the exertion was too much.
                “But you’re moving around!” Elizabeth protested. There were groans supportive confusion from the others. “You must have left half of it there.”
                “Nonsense; I do not waste such provisions. My plate was left bare.” Countess Lascera defied, proudly. It was enough to force Adirn to lift her head once more, for a proper look at Evi. As ever she was clad in the leathers which wrapped closely around her frame. There was no tell-tale mountain of gastric agony, nor any other biologically viable hiding place for the feast that Bertha had provided for each of them.
                “No. No you’d never still fit in that if you’d eaten everything.” She appraised imperiously.
                “I didn’t claim to have eaten it, your eminence, just that I left my plate bare.” Evi replied with self-satisfaction, patting at the various pouches around her body.
                “Oh. Of course.”
                “But don’t you normally use those to sto-“
                “Elizabeth!” Adirn interrupted with all her imperial authority. “You are not to finish that speculation, nor is Countess Lascera to answer the question. I do not need that thought to enter my mind.”
                With a cackle Evi sprung into the room, leaping with the grace of a ballerina and the armaments of a major threat to society. Agile footfalls fell delicately between bodies paralysed by distended stomachs, and she came to rest softly on an appropriately crimson chaise-longue facing the empress.
                “I’m glad you’re here anyway, Evi.” Said the empress, allowing her face to thud gently into the wonderfully cold glass again. “We must formulate a plan. My people must be rescued from the tyrants who have stolen my throne.”
                “Allow me to do the honours, empress. Once I get inside the castle I will personally carve through the Dark Council like a scythe. Their treacherous skins shall be raised on flagpoles outside the Imperial Palace within an hour of my infiltration.” Countess Lascera replied, making helpfully harrowing mimes to demonstrate how Count Rott’s flesh would be whipped away like a tablecloth.
                “Tempting, Evi. It’s incredibly tempting to have them butchered. But that would be playing into their hands.”
                “It would be taking off their hands, at some point.” Evi pointed-out, with a wink.
                “That’s sort of the point. My reign won’t be won back in a bloodbath if it can be avoided, or the people will just see me as another monster; one who pretended to value life until it became inconvenient to do so. I’ve thought about this all night and believe me, I made several plans which involved introducing the Dark Council to their own industries, but I would never be able to justify it. Gwen and Henry and Mary and the other staff who run my home would know what I’d done.”
                “If they’re still alive.”
                Adirn dropped her face into her hands momentarily, but the increased pressure on her stomach soon made it bounce right back up.
                “This only makes it clearer that we need to act quickly. Whether or not we let you loose like a…”
                “An agricultural thresher going through a block of hot lard?”
                “... sure, like that, we will still need to get into the Imperial Palace somehow. My carriage is hardly inconspicuous and they’ll probably be hijacking or holding up every cart in the empire anyway. Your own forces won’t be able to march against Count Rott’s armies; they’re too few.”
                “Numbers only matter in a straight battle, eminence. If we get behind the lines and take them in the back…”
                “Then you’d need to do it over and over until we reached the capitol. Hundreds, or maybe thousands, would die and even if they’re currently under the command of traitors they’re still my people. I won’t have open civil war like that on my account.”
                “What other choice do you have? You have no other allies within the empire, eminence. My force is the start and end of your military, so the sooner we start spilling blood the sooner you’ll be re-throned.”
                Silence fell over the room. Frowning darkly and looking at the floor, Adirn tried to find some other way of getting back into the Imperial Palace. Deposing the Dark Council would involve some unpleasantness, she knew, but every time she thought about what Evi was suggesting it made her feel sick with shame. But would fewer lives be lost by her back-stabbing than Viscount Sinistere’s weak cruelty in allowing the rest of the Dark Council to do as they pleased?
                “Did I overhear that you’re having some trouble getting back home?” Bertha boomed from the doorway. Adirn shut her eyes tight; if she were to see a tray of food in the woman’s arms then that would be it for her efforts to keep breakfast down.
                “Uh… I’m afraid so.”
                “I didn’t realise that you’d been the victim of such a saddening misunderstanding with your own advisors, eminence. Please accept my apologies and those of the whole White Alliance. Had I known you’d suffered such injustices then I would have given you a more warm and comforting welcome. Oh, gosh I feel a stingy fool. Let me prepare the sympathy menu.” She worried, waving her arms in impotent frustration.
                “Oh goodness please no!” Shrieked Cassandra directly into the floor.
                “We can take no more, Mistress Humble.” Keto groaned.
                “By which we mean thank you, Bertha, but we will quite literally die if we put any more food into our bodies.” Adirn panted. “We are eternally grateful for what you have done and need nothing more.”
                Bertha didn’t frown. She was still smiling more broadly than any Onyxian could in the absence of a good hanging, but somehow that smile had taken on an edge of remorse and melancholy. It was difficult for the empress to parse, and she suspected that internal pressures within her body had started to cause hallucinations.
                “If you insist eminence, but the offer stands and I will make good on it in the future, I promise. For now, I think I know what you can do. Divine Light Thomas Dove would never let an injustice like this stand. He is the protector of the downtrodden, you know. Ask him for help and he will surely send whatever aid you need.”
                There was a glimmer of adoration in Bertha’s eyes that Adirn had never witnessed before, nor ever seen so misplaced in such a gigantic arse of a human.
                “I have tried asking Thomas Dove for help with other matters and he was not open to the idea.” She euphemised, biting the inside of her mouth to avoid going any further.
                “Oh I’m sure he just misunderstood. Besides, whatever you needed help with before can’t have been as serious as your current plight, and no-one in the alliance would turn down someone as wonderful as you in a time of need.” Bertha persisted. Something in her earnest , honest face made it hard to argue. Even with the fresh, raw wound of what Thomas Dove had said, Adirn couldn’t bear to say that Bertha was wrong. But she also couldn’t agree.
                “It is nice to think so.” She instead conceded.
                “You can’t be thinking to go back, surely?” Elizabeth asked. Her words were again directed at the ceiling.
                “Not seriously. He made it clear what he thinks of me and our empire.” The empress said darkly.
                “Nonsense! He loves all victims and despises all tyrants. You will fall under his wing in an instant when he learns of your plight.” Insisted Bertha Humble, who acted out a warm and protective hug for emphasis.
                “If we had the army of the White Alliance behind us, eminence, we could storm the City of Torment easily. It has been amply proven that the Onyxian military cannot stand against the White legions.” Captain Toxis suggested.
                “They did this to us, Keto.” Adirn growled. “The years of poverty and exploitation. The years of smug superiority. The years of conquest without annexation. How could our empire ever recover or grow when Thomas Dove only ever steals our gold and deposes the puppet head of state? Nothing they did has ever helped the Onyx Empire or rendered the White Alliance safer and Thomas Dove knows it full well; they keep us as a caged pet to battle when they want to look good and steal from all the while. They put us in this place and they force us to stay here, and now I am to look at them as our saviour?”
                “That is exactly why we came here in the first place, isn’t it?”
                “No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know anymore. We came here to put an end to the constant conquest and build a bridge but… but the White Alliance doesn’t want one. I thought they would work with us when we came here, but I’ve since realised the truth of how they see us. We aren’t on borrowed time by virtue of their patience, we are in a limbo of their creation. Whether Thomas Dove believes his own misapprehensions about me or not I can’t say, but he’s a wheel in the machine that holds us down. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, Keto. It’s the only explanation.”
                “Please, eminence. No-one wants the Onyx Empire to suffer.” Bertha tried to comfort.
                “I think they do, Bertha.” The empress argued. Whatever reticence she felt in deconstructing Bertha’s illusions had been overwhelmed by the torrent of her anger. “The White Alliance marches in every time there’s an invasion and executes the Empress or Emperor. And then what? They leave the empire to choose a new head of state, something which is done by the same people who pushed the ruler in to war to begin with. The invading armies walk out with a new agreement for war reparations and ignore the fields of gallows, the drowned masses, the pyres, the internalised ears; they leave the power structure and the atrocities intact while removing the face of the empire alone. Even when I approached them and tried to make a change they threw it back in my face and decided that no Onyxian could be born good, so how can the cycle ever stop? What reason do the Dark Council have to stop what they’re doing, and what power does the head of state have to change things?”
                “I can see that you’re upset eminence, but I have faith that you and Thomas Dove can work it out.” Bertha persisted, her optimism apparently unassailable by facts.
                “You are not wrong, eminence. They leave us in this pit and then judge us for being down here. But despite that we can still use their help. We can exploit them back for what it’s worth, or we can wade forwards into death for the sake of pride.” Captain Toxis said, managing to look over his distended gut and elevated foot to stare the empress in the eye.
                “My offer still stands, eminence.” Countess Lascera said, twirling a curved dagger in her hand. “We can settle this the Onyxian way; one that doesn’t involve the White Alliance and makes sure that the disloyal are purged.”
                “I need time to calm down and think.” She grumbled. “I’m going for a walk.”
                Adirn made a brave attempt to straighten out and stand up, gritting her teeth and scrunching her eyes closed against the solid lump of white-hot iron that her stomach had become. That effort, however, was futile. Pathetically she collapsed back onto her seat.
                “I’m going to sit here and calm down instead. Please look away from me.” She ordered.
                Politely and obediently, the other occupants of the room averted their gaze and variously sat or lay there in silence while the empress ruminated and digested. Eventually the silence of the room and coolness of the window managed to quell her temper, but still she sat in silent contemplation and allowed her breakfast to gradually go down. Not for a moment was she willing to trust Thomas Dove to do the right thing for her sake alone, nor would she place her faith Countess Lascera’s forces successfully slaughtering their way through the Onyx Empire. Pride, however, could be swallowed down and the White Alliance could still be used. With one final frustrated moment of appreciation for Keto’s erratic wisdom, her mind was made up.
                “Alright.” She announced to the room. “I think I have a plan.”
 
                “Oathbreaker Adirn Deepgrave the Denier! This is an unexpected pleasure.” Wendigo Springtime announced as he opened the carriage door once again. Judging by the smaller army of house staff flanking him this time, even the unexpected was anticipated at the Radiant Citadel. “I’m glad to see that you were not the target of a cobbler’s bombardment this time around.”
                “Thank you, Governor Springtime. I did not expect to be back either, but events have overtaken me. I require…” she cleared her throat and closed her eyes. “I require an audience with Thomas Dove immediately.”
                “Again? This is an event of some note, your eminence. We’ve been hundreds of years without the slightest peace-time communication and then suddenly two imperial visits come along in as many days. Your regime certainly is different to that of your predecessors.”
                “Yes! Yes exactly, it is!” Adirn cried, feeling a happiness and gratitude that she’d thought might elude her forever. She stepped rapidly down from the carriage and stood beaming at the governor. “I would love for you to accompany me and make that point if you are willing, Wendigo.”
                “Erm… well… I typically don’t get involved in diplomatic discourses with Divine Light Thomas Dove.”
                “And people typically don’t notice that I stand distinguished from the murderers who preceded me. Having already done one of those things I would be very grateful if you could do the other.”
                Governor Springtime looked suspiciously at the empress, and then the ground, and then the empress again. He felt an awful lot like he was being tricked in some way, but couldn’t quite find the hook in her words.
                “We’ll see if my duties allow it.” He said, cagily.
                “Your eminence?” Keto nudged softly, having limped silently out behind her. “We must make haste.”
                “Yes, of course. Wendigo, please take me straight to Thomas Dove.”
                “I’m afraid he is engaged with another visitor at the moment, your eminence. His divinity holds court with many guests and-”
                “I can assure you this is an emergency and a matter of significant import.”
                “One which requires me to also stand by and tell his divinity that you are not like the other rulers of the Onyx Empire?” Queried the governor.
                “That is an important piece of supporting information, yes. More generally applicable to our ongoing relationship as rulers, but certainly helpful here and now. It might well be the difference between life and death for a lot of people.”
                “I see. Well, as I said, he is engaged already. No nation can survive without the support of its bathhouse guild and this meeting is an important matter. I really shouldn’t interrupt it.”
                “Fine. I remember the way. I can interrupt it myself.” The empress declared, striding away from the governor. Keto hobbled with impressive speed behind her as Wendigo’s mouth dropped open.
                “Oh… er... that’s not ideal for us…”
                Empress Adirn shrugged as she weaved between the waiting crowd of butlers and porters.
                “Should we bring your bags in?” Wendigo called after them.
                “No thank you. We will not be staying long.” Adirn shouted back. “And no more chaises-longue are to be loaded in while I’m out!”
                Wendigo couldn’t argue with that. He stood and watched the empress ascend towards the tower doors for a few moments in impotent confusion.
                “Give the carriage a quick clean, please.” He ordered his team, for want of anything else to make them do. “I… I had best accompany them. Why am I letting them walk away from me?” He asked himself in a moment of revelation, before hurrying after the empress.
                By the time he caught up to them, Adirn was standing impatiently at the foot of the moving platform while Captain Toxis leaned awkwardly into the small chamber.
                “I think I just need to operate this lever; shouldn’t be too hard to have that in one hand and my sword in the other.”
                “We already know it’s safe, Keto. Let’s just get on with it.”
                “Allow me, eminenice.” Wendigo insisted, hurrying past Keto into the chamber and taking up his place by the lever.
                Adirn offered Keto a shoulder to lean on as she entered the chamber. He stared down at her, confused. “There’s a lot of standing around to do. Take the weight off your foot for at least a moment.” She ordered. Reluctantly he placed one arm on her shoulder without putting any weight on it.
                “What happened?” Governor Springtime asked, shocked at the bloodied hole in Keto’s boot. It made some sense of his strange gait, at least.
                “We were attacked on the road, and an arrow pinned Captain Toxis to it. That has a lot to do with why we’re back here.” The empress explained. The governor looked horrified. “I’m glad you’ve agreed to come with me, Wendigo. It is much appreciated, truly.”
                “I haven’t really agreed to that, eminence, but I will escort you up to the Elucidation Chamber and wait with you while his divinity finishes with his current audience. You will wait outside, won’t you?” He asked, pulling the lever. The familiar sound of rattling chains emanated from the walls as they started the rise.
                “I’m Oathbreaker Adirn Deepgrave the Denier. Does it really matter what I tell you?” the empress asked back. Wendigo turned red and suddenly the empress didn’t feel as clever. “Sorry, that was petulant of me. I’m afraid I can’t wait, as I have said.”
                “No apologies are necessary, eminence. Although I would urge you to reconsider.”
                “I’ll think about it.”
                For the rest of the long ascent up to the Elucidation Chamber Adirn did just that; more specifically, she thought about exactly how little waiting she would do. In her mind she decided upon the most efficient way to walk past the governor, pull the rope that opens the doors, and make her way up to Thomas Dove. The closer they got the harder and faster her heart pounded. Not only was she coming face to face with the bigoted bird again, she would have to placate the head of the bathhouse guild and deal with any repercussions of her rudeness. The small, burning mote of hatred inside the empress decided that any perceived insult could be called the repercussions of Thomas Dove’s rudeness the day before, and adrenaline only made her pulse quicken further.
                “Keto, Wendigo, I would have you both at my side, please. Your injury will add legitimacy to my plight, and I wasn’t joking when I said that your testimony in favour of my uniqueness among Onyxian rulers would be of merit, Wendigo.” She said to her companions as they strode out of the final moving platform.
                “Of course, eminence.” Accepted Captain Toxis obediently. “Should I remove my boot?”
                “Please, no.” Wendigo said quickly. His face was draining of colour at the thought of seeing the injury up close, and the idea of having to clean up the white carpet afterwards.
                “I agree that it should not be necessary yet. But please be ready to reveal your bandages if our honesty if questioned.”
                Captain Toxis nodded.
                Ahead of them all once again were the towering doors to Thomas Dove’s Elucidation chamber. Adirn drew a deep breath in through her nose as she strode closer.
                “They will not be in there all day, eminence. Surely we can bear to wait outside for a few moments before interrupting the proceedings?”
                “We cannot.” The empress replied curtly, while pulling down on the thick rope which dangled outside the doors. Once again the hidden mechanisms of the Radiant Citadel were spurred into motion, and light began to spill from the Elucidation Chamber into the corridor. Carried with it were jocular voices.
                “And we will of course invest our membership fees into providing freely accessible hot bathing pools for the farmhands who visit the city, your divinity.” Someone was promising brightly. A bed of murmurs rumbled underneath the words.
                The empress looked at Wendigo’s imploding face, scrunched together with a hundred cringes at her imperial presumptions, and rolled her eyes.
                “Come along, please.” She said as softly as she could make herself, and began to stride along the white carpet into the blinding light of Thomas Dove’s twin mirrors.
                “My apologies, Bathmaster Purest. It appears that we have another visitor.” The Divine Light’s voice boomed. The dazzled silhouettes ahead of Adirn shifted, presumably turning to face her as she marched briskly towards them.
                “You do. I also offer my remorse at having to interrupt you, but I have matters to discuss which simply cannot wait.”
                “Ah. Empress Deepgrave. A rare honour.” Thomas Dove replied. There was no coldness to his voice, nor resentment or even irritation that she’d interrupted him. It was as if he felt nothing at all at how they departed, and it made Adirn want to punch him all the more.
                “Yes, your divinity. The empress has shown great initiative and self-assuredness in her second visit. I asked if she could wait but apparently this matter is of some import.” Wendigo called out from behind. “Her captain of the guard is also in attendance.”
                “Thank you, Governor Springtime.” Elucidator Heartswarmth replied, just in time for Adirn to be able to see him properly. “Welcome back, eminence.”
                “Thank you, Elucidator. But I bring grave news from your neighbouring empire.”
                “Is it something with which provision of bathing facilities could assist?” Asked one of the other visitors. “They’re very relaxing.”
                “What? No. Thank you. It’s a matter of national emergency of the Onyx Empire.”
                “An emergency is no reason to let self-care go by the wayside, and sometimes your perspective can be favourably altered by a soak in the warm water.”
                “What is the nature of this emergency?” Thomas Dove asked, raising a pausing hand to the Bathhouse Guild representatives. “I’m not ruling out or endorsing bath services until we understand the problem, although I do recognise their numerous boons.”
                Adirn came to a halt, smoothed out her clothing and cleared her throat.
                “Embarrassing as it is to admit there… there has been a coup in my empire during my absence. I have been deposed.”
                Gasps rang out from the Bathhouse Guild and the Illuminators did their best to stifle spiteful laughter, but Thomas Dove leaned forwards gravely.
                “Treachery within the Onyx Empire? It pains me to hear it but I could hardly claim to be surprised by this news. It seems to be the same old cycle of untrustworthy behaviour among those in the Onyxian court.” He said, bringing his fingers into a steeple beneath his head.
                “I agree, your divinity.” Adirn said, swallowing down the bitter taste of his title.
                “Please, tell me what has happened?” He said. The empress bristled; she had been about to tell him anyway.
                “Before I was out of the empire for even a day, my advisors took it upon themselves to renounce my rule and reforms. They have already started the process of resuming their despicable vices and they despatched forces against me. It was not long after we crossed the border my carriage was ambushed by a group of traitors who sought to execute my retinue and hand me over to the usurper, one Viscount Sycophantus Sinistere. Captain Toxis here was injured in his efforts to defend me, but my carriage driver was killed, and I escaped only narrowly; if it weren’t for the intervention of a single loyal noblewoman within my court I would be in the imperial dungeons right now.” The empress recounted, trying her best to sell the gravitas of the scenario.
                “I am dreadfully sorry to hear of your carriage driver, but Captain Toxis at least appears to be in fine health.” Thomas Dove observed, eyes narrowed.
                “He is a loyal guard and does not allow wounds to slow him. But you made yourself all too clear on the matter of trusting my word, so Keto, would you please prove that I speak truly?”
                Concerned and wary looks fell across all other faces in the room, but Keto nodded obediently and bent to start unlacing his boot. Wendigo whimpered slightly from Adirn’s other side and looked away, while the Bathhouse Guild members backed up slightly.
                “I meant no offence by my words of yesterday, Empress Deepgrave; I sought only to relay the truth.”
                “Regardless, you don’t trust me. So please…” She replied, gesturing towards Captain Toxis’ foot. A few more moments of silence, in which all eyes were on a gentleman removing his boot, passed until Keto gingerly pulled his foot free of its leather encasement. So followed the dramatic un-socking, and then, presented to the room like a weapon for inspection, was the bandaged foot of Keto Toxis. A dark reddy brown stain told of the wound beneath.
                “Well… er… my sympathies, Captain Toxis. I can certainly see that you have an injured foot and I wish you a swift recovery. If my radiant apothecaries can provide any medical assistance then please do feel free to call upon them.”
                “A hot bath would do wonders for that.”
                “It’d dirty the waters though, you’d need to use one of the basins really.”
                “Perhaps one in the private bathing areas, so that no-one else need be worried by it.”
                “We can organise a very reasonable price for you.”
                “How, may I ask, did this injury occur?” Asked the stiletto-blade voice of Rachael Verity, ignoring the Bathhouse Guild. Adirn closed her eyes briefly, sucked air in through her teeth, and then turned to face the illuminator. “I only ask because it is rare to see someone stabbed through the foot during combat, your divinity.”
                “It was an arrow.”
                “An arrow?” Joy Honourborn chuckled.
                “It is even rarer to be taken by an arrow in the foot. Was the archer aiming straight into the sky at the time?”
                “It was an aimed shot.” Adirn growled back through gritted teeth. “Captain Toxis was standing between me and those who sought to abduct me, and they shot him in the foot as a warning to stand aside.”
                “Sounds like pinning him to the ground with an arrow would make it harder for him to stand aside, not easier.” Illuminator Summers observed with a titter.
                “And yet that is where we found ourselves.” Shouted the empress, nostrils flaring.
                “I believe that the empress’ testimony has held up to our scrutiny on this occasion.” Elucidator Heartswarmth compromised. “Captain Toxis stood and got shot while trying to prevent the abduction of Empress Deepgrave on the Tarspath Road. It is as our informants reported.”
                Thomas Dove nodded with satisfaction.
                “You already knew?!”
                “Of course we did. Our networks of information are efficient and reliable.” Illuminator Verity announced smugly. “Not that you would know anything about that sort of thing, by the sounds of your advisors.”
                “Then you were testing me?” Deduced the empress, fist clenching again.
                “Just as we test our waters for clarity and cleanliness.” Bathmaster Purest interjected, with a knowing smile towards Thomas Dove. His divinity smiled back politely before returning his attention to Adirn.
                “We were verifying both sources of information against one another.” He euphemised. “But both agree, and so we have no reason to doubt the events which occurred. We also know that you boarded with Bertha Humble last night; a wonderful choice, and impressive that you are still able to fit into your clothing. Anyway, we had already heard that Sycophantus Sinistere has claimed the throne of the Onyx Empire. I believe it normally takes longer for such a rebellion, no? Captain Toxis?”
                “Two years, give or take, your emin… er, your radiance.” Keto replied reflexively. “Do I have your leave to put my boot back on, eminence? My foot is starting to get cold.”
                “My goodness me, please do.” Wendigo blurted before the empress could reply. His face became whiter than the carpet on which they stood. “Apologies, your eminence. It was out of turn of me.”
                “No more out of turn that it was for the empress to enter during another’s audience.” Illuminator Verity reassured him. There came no argument from anyone in the room.
                “Then again,” Thomas Dove continued as if he’d never been interrupted. “I suppose that no other ruler has left themselves so exposed and vulnerable. Maybe all the Onyxian nobility ever needed was an opportunity.”
                “So it would seem.” Adirn replied flatly.
                “Well, Empress Deepgrave, you have my condolences for these tragic circumstances. I can grant you asylum within Serenitas until such a time as you are able to find a safe place to which to return.”
                A sensation that was simultaneously hot and cold dropped heavily into Adirn’s stomach. It swirled upward into her throat and down into her pelvis as her brain tried to parse the opportunity ahead of her; an invitation to escape the viper’s nest of assassins, poisons, betrayal and atrocities on which the Onyx Empire prided itself. The same argument she’d had with herself a hundred times since planning her trip to the White Alliance came rushing back, but this time there was a real, undeniable chance to take it; it was the way out that she’d desperately pleaded for when walking up to the dais in her Stone Garden, as the Grand Priestess prepared to conduct the coronation. No more was it a hypothetical, it was a divine intervention.
                The empress didn’t hesitate in replying.
                “Thank you, your divinity. But that would be running away from my duty. I have worked to lift the Onyx Empire from its pit of moral destitution not just for myself, but for the countless thousands who will die, or continue to suffer, if I don’t make it happen. The Onyx Empire has not had an opportunity like… like me, I suppose, at any other time in its history. I can’t abandon it, and I will be returning to the City of Torment.”
                “Just like you can’t abandon the chance for a greater offering of bathhouses in the south-western quarter of the city, your divinity.” Purest added, ever the optimist.
                “That was… a noble and worthy reply, Empress Deepgrave. If you wish not for asylum, then why did you come here?”
                “For help, your divinity. We know that the armies of the Onyx Empire cannot stand against the White Alliance. I come to ask you to march with me, intervene, and reseat me on the throne. Not for my good, but for those who are depending on me to save them.” She said, voice quivering as if she was back on the rutted and stony roads of the Onyx Empire.
                Tense silence filled the Elucidation Chamber. It stretched from wall-to-wall, clung to the ceiling and smothered the floor. Adirn stared up into the eyes of Thomas Dove, as he stared appraisingly back towards her, feeling the gaze of his illuminators upon him. One hand scratched at his face, and then the other came to rest on his hip. He looked up at the ceiling, where great glass panels let in the light of the sun, and then down again at Empress Deepgrave, who stood motionless with a sick-looking Governor Springtime to one said, and a guard captain bravely wrestling his foot into a boot on the other.
                "You have made a very accomplished effort here, Empress Deepgrave. You have appealed to every sense of justice I have and placed the needs of others before yourself. But you won’t be baiting the White Alliance into invading the Onyx Empire that easily. We are not the aggressors, nor have we ever been.” Smirks began to spread like a plague through the illuminators.
                “You cannot be serious! I’m not asking you to invade the Onyx Empire, I’m asking you to help me quash a rebellion.”
                “A rebellion is exactly what the Onyx Empire needs if it’s going to overturn years of invasion and cruelty.” Illuminator Verity sniped.
                “That’s what the rebels are trying to restore you moron! They’re rebelling against me because I’m stopping them doing all those things! For goodness sake, I and thousands of other innocent people will be killed unless you send force with me.”
                “It’s a bold gambit, Empress Deepgrave,” Thomas Dove said with a chuckle and a wink “and very novel. I’ll admit that your brand of skulduggery is a far more pleasant beast to wrangle, and that you do seem to enjoy visceral mutilation much less than the other rulers of whom I’ve been told, but you will not convince me to attack my neighbour unprovoked. The only time that the White Alliance shall ever march against the Onyx Empire is in a war which was already started, and the only way that we would ever declare war is in self-defence.”
                “But it’s not war. It’s a request for aid. It’s an act of diplomacy from an empire in turmoil to one which can help.” Adirn pleaded. “There is an impossibly long road to fixing the Onyx Empire. I’m fighting hundreds of years of traditions, practices, and even architecture that wants to resist change. Even the people who want a better life are so conditioned by their expectations that they can’t see how I’m trying to help them. We have only just started on that journey, and now we’re threatened with an end to it. You can help us if you act with me now.”
                “Noble, Empress Deepgrave, but the White Alliance cannot meddle in the affairs of other nations. Your internal politics are yours to manage, and we cannot be seen to march in force against an foe with inferior numbers who have done no wrong to us.”
                “Fine. Fine, then…” The empress made a show of preparing herself. “Then I, Empress Adirn Deepgrave, true sovereign of the Onyx Empire, declare war on the White Alliance. Now, will you march?”
                Raucous laughter erupted from the illuminators, no longer capable of holding it at bay. Elucidator Heartswarmth stared darkly at them, while Thomas Dove gave Adirn a pitying look.
                “I do not accept your declaration.”
                “What do you mean you don’t accept? You can’t just not accept a declaration of war! It’s there in the name, a declaration, not a request!”
                Thomas Dove raised a weary hand.
                “I appreciate your commitment to this, but we both know that you have command of no force to send against me, Empress Deepgrave. Without one, how could there be a war? It is a cunning but flawed tactic to draw me out and I will not fall for it. As you told me so clearly when you left here yesterday morning,” he said with a self-satisfied smirk “there will be no war.”
                In the bright white sunlight of Thomas Dove’s throne room the walls started to darken and elongate. His vaulted and stained glass ceiling high above grew further away while the floor distorted and buckled underneath Adirn’s feet. He had denied her any assistance, fully in the knowledge that to do so signed her death warrant just as much as Viscount Sinistere’s coup had. Sure, the Divine Light’s signature would probably take on a more flowing script, with a smiley face in place of each ‘o’, but it meant the same thing. For a moment longer she stood there and looked at not only Thomas Dove, but those to either side who had accepted his dereliction of moral duty silently. None of them, for all their virtue, had tried to sway him into saving lives. Freely she judged them, but that judgement didn’t make it any easier to revert to plan B.
                “Well… I feared you might take that stance, and I see that yet again I will not change your mind no matter what I do. Would you permit me to send a message to my loyalists, at least, before I go to my death?”
                “Of course, Empress Deepgrave. My hospitality remains yours to enjoy, and I would remind you that my offer of asylum stands.”
                “Try the hot baths! They’re wonderful and you might just fall in love with them enough to take asylum.” Purest added.
                “I would prefer his armies.” Adirn said with disappointment. “Goodbye, Divine Light Thomas Dove. I can only hope that you are ready for the treachery of Emperor Sinistere, for he will not stay Count Rott’s lust for invasion like I did.”
                “Goodbye and good fortune, Empress Deepgrave.”
                For the second time, Adirn marched herself from the Elucidation Chamber, under the untrusting gaze of Thomas Dove. This time, however,  his lack of trust didn’t feel like such an injustice. From her pocket she took a note and handed it to Wendigo.
                “We are leaving, Governor Springtime. I would like to thank you for your support in convincing Thomas Dove that I can be trusted, but that would have involved you providing any. Please send this to the alderman of Shimmerdale. It is a province which lies-”
                “Close to the border with the Onyx Empire. Oft invaded and plundered for gold.” Wendigo finished for her, guiltily. “Do you wish to warn them of an attack under the new regime?”
                “Yes.” Adirn said simply, with a grimace. After his failure to help, it felt all too easy to lie.