Empress Adirn 5: Ramifications

​Empress Adirn’s next morning greeted her much like the previous one; with a metallic cacophony of corvid screeches. They awoke her from dreams of Countess Lascera’s flying daggers, Auros the Crippler pushing her own ears into her head, and an army of kitchen staff waging war on improperly cleaned skillets. She wasn’t necessarily angry about those dreams stopping, but waking up felt like an extreme way of achieving it.
                Once she’d come to terms with wakefulness Adirn’s exodus from the bedroom involved ripping far fewer curtains off the rail than the previous morning, thanks to the large and obvious pull cord that had been installed during their repair. The guard outside her door had followed her order and left his mask off, so that she didn’t need to be confronted with a steel-faced gargoyle in the dawn light. He also didn’t quake in terror when she spoke to him, and the empress was thrilled when he made absolutely no attempt to escort her to the privy.
                When Gwen arrived to help dress the empress she still did not dare to insinuate that anything would fail to augment the empress’ infernal beauty. Even those garments which were a clear four sizes too large, would, apparently, have made her as broodily striking as a storm head, but she did leave a few of them discreetly on the rack. Adirn accepted it as progress.
                More joyously, it appeared that the imperial wardrobe had been augmented with two items that featured only minor embroidered atrocities, which was somehow at least three more than Adirn had expected.  Clearly there was still work being done to un-pick several of the more objectionable emblems in her collection of inherited clothing, but it heartened the empress to know that her will was being followed.
                By the time Captain Toxis began escorting Empress Adirn into her audience hall she’d not seen a single horrifying act being memorialised in finery, nor been accused of planning one herself, for that whole morning. It was welcome development, and put her in an optimistic mood when they arrived to listen to the pleas and pledges of her people. She found the chamber to be just as full as it had been the previous day. Where all faces had turned on her with quiet puzzlement about her unusual taste in dress the day before, this time they held a more subdued reverence, making it clear that empress’ who shrugged off attempted public assassinations were more deserving of respect.
                Standing next to the enormous onyx throne was the imperial announcer, who regarded the empress in the way that a deer would watch an approaching bear. Adirn noted that the balled up sleeve was no longer in his mouth, and had instead been sewn back onto his shirt; there were still tooth marks in the fabric. She gave him a curt nod and he swallowed hard.
                “Good morning, everybody.” Empress Adirn said, as she took a seat on her onyx throne. Such a genius was the tailor who had fashioned the minimally macabre dress she wore, that the rear provided increased grip on the polished onyx seat. The empress made a mental note send her thanks and congratulations.
                There was a silence. No-one responded to Adirn’s greeting yet again, which she found to be irksome at the least and rude at the worst. Then again, they would probably have been executed for speaking out of turn in past reigns, so she supposed it was understandable. For now.
                “Announcer, would you please introduce the first petitioner, in accordance with our conversation yesterday morning?” Adirn asked.
                “Yes, certainly your eminence.” He replied. To his professional credit, the clear and extreme fear in his body language didn’t bleed across into his voice. “Viscount Sinistere, please approach.”
                Emerging from a crowd of velvet cloaks and bejewelled aristocrats came the ever-slickened viscount, wringing his ringed hands and giving the empress a simpering, hollow smile. She half-thought that she could see a glistening snail-trail behind his path, and shuddered. Forwards he slithered until reaching the unmarked but universally acknowledged point of address.
                “A most terrible of mornings to you, your imperial majesty.” Oozed the viscount, dropping into a shallow bow. Adirn looked away lest she see anything drip.
                “Good morning to you, Viscount Sinistere.” She forced herself to say to the ceiling.
                “Er… yes the vaulted ceilings are a work of great art, you clearly have a connoisseur’s eye.” He crawled. From the sound of his voice he was no longer facing the floor, and so the empress felt safe in looking at him again.
                “How might I help you?”
                “Ah, well your illuminated eminence, word reached me yesterday of your ruling on the plight of Poverton. I wouldn’t dare to question your wisdom and most diabolical machinations, your terrible eminence, and clearly it is your will that Poverton is to forsake its name by being allowing to retain some level of its wealth. But I am not the great thinker that you are, and so I need assistance in understanding how I am to cope without the money from taxation.”
                Adirn looked down at the man decked in gold and finery.
                “I am sure that you’ll find a way to cope without the meagre offerings that Poverton would have been able to give. Perhaps it is time to adopt a slightly more modest means of living, since your income cannot support having gold-lined clothing.”
                “Ha! A wonderful jest, your eminence.” He forced a laugh, optimistically. “But I am not the only soul who needs to adjust to the lack of Poverton’s dues. What are my tax collectors to do? Without enough work I must remove some, if not all, of them from my employ. After all, I have no need for them, and their salaries are harder to cover with fewer taxes. But I have full faith that your wisdom will deliver us from this trouble.”
                In a halo around Viscount Sinistere the air shimmered with a prismatic glow, as his oily surface refracted the streaming daylight. Adirn looked at him with more disgust than ever.
                “This is matter for discussion with the council, Viscount Sinistere. You stood in the Skull Chamber with me yesterday and did not see fit to mention your concerns there. There will be similar situations in all of the demesnes, so it is a problem which we should all solve together.” She said, in lieu of any immediately good ideas. There would surely be time to think of something between now and then.
                “Of course, your eminence. Your insight is a blazing vanguard on our quest for domination.” Sinistere said, throwing himself into another bow and simultaneously raising his hands in defensive surrender, until he looked more like a gravy boat than a man in more ways than one. “I didn’t mean to speak of matters inappropriately. I shall of course wait for the council to be convened, and I’m sure that in your wisdom such an event shall happen soon.”
                “Yes, naturally. Until then, viscount.” Adirn sighed. In a softer chair she would have sunk dejectedly into the padding, but the Onyx Throne made no allowances for such displays of body language.
                “Lord Tabius Lloyd, approach!” The announcer commanded as the slug lord scuttled away.
                Walking purposefully but still somehow effortlessly, Lord Tabius Lloyd strode towards the space that Viscount Sinistere had previously occupied. Tightly wrapped black clothing clung to his body from the shadow of a long velvet cloak. From within its folds he produced a jet black notebook and short quill, before bowing sarcastically deeply.
                “Good morning, Lord Lloyd.” Adirn indulged. “Do you also have a request which could have been made during a council meeting instead?”
                Lord Tabius Lloyd rose with the kind of smile that hyena might give a cornered rabbit, were they ever to meet. It did nothing to ingratiate the empress, but she suspected that it wasn’t meant to, either.
                “Not all, your eminence. I simply wished to ask for clarification on what was meant by your recent actions, and that is most certainly a matter of public interest.” He said through serpent’s fangs. “Naturally you had only the greatest intentions when you went, rightfully, over Viscount Sinistere’s head and made proclamations about his subjects and taxes. It’s also only right that you, as our ruler, should immediately know better how to treat the peasantry than our landed elites who have ruled over their demesnes for years.  I would just like to know if we can all expect micromanaging of our affairs now?”
                Tabius Lloyd’s words fell at Empress Adirn’s feet, sugared toxins that invited her to take a bite, as he held the quill ready over a page of his notebook.
                “Micromanaging? I wasn’t micromanaging the viscount’s affairs, I was just responding to a petition from one of my people.” The empress responded, jaw clenched.
                “In direct contravention of that person’s lord, beseeching them to ignore taxation and neglect paying their dues. But, wise as you are, you’ve not answered my question, your eminence.” Tabius said, ink dripping like venom from his quill.
                “Yes I have! I’ve told you that I wasn’t micromanaging.”
                “My question, your eminence, was whether we can all expect to be micromanaged. Surely you’re able to answer me and allow your subjects to know the flavour of tyranny to be expected under your reign. We’ve rarely had to wait this long for a ruler to make their own brand of despotic control known, and if meddling is to continue to be your divine will then we would all be better off for knowing.”
                Adirn opened and closed her mouth, forming counterarguments that died in the back of her throat.
                “It is not meddling for an empress to listen to those who come to petition her.” She said slowly, thinking as she went. “It is her right and her duty to resolve these matters that were not kept under control by those entrusted with fiefdoms.”
                “So it’s a case of whoever shouts loudest is heard then? A village of people who dedicate themselves to their lord’s dues and do not take time away to petition the empress deserve no help, but those who down tools and circumvent their liege lord are granted amnesty.” Quill scratched against parchment as notes were rapidly made.
                “That is not the case!”
                “Isn’t it? Forgive my lack of wisdom in misunderstanding the situation. Far be it from me to presume to understand your machinations, your eminence. Would you please explain to us all how it is, then, that Glenn of Poverton was able to abandon his farm work and be rewarded with tax exemption when all others who toil are still expected to pay?”
                A wave of urgent whispers rippled through the crowd.
                “That is a question beneath answering. I know what you are doing, Lord Lloyd. I only hope that you do as well.” Adirn seethed.
                Tabius Lloyd raised his palms in mock surrender, as far as was possible whilst still clutching the book and quill.
                “I am only seeking to allow myself and your other subjects to understand your will. Naturally we are led to wonder why Poverton is so unfairly favoured above the other settlements, and why simultaneously Viscount Sinistere is being punished with a ravaging of his income.”
                The whispers grew louder and more animated. Frowns appeared here and there.
                “Unfair? If you wish to talk unfairness then I invite you to consider Glenn’s plight, Lord Lloyd. I invite you think of how it must be to be threatened with execution for failing to hand over coin or grain that you don’t have. But you raise a good point; there is inequality in what I decreed yesterday. Any village, under any lord or lady, subject to demands to pay more than they can give is exempt from their dues.”
                Immediately there was an uproar. The gradually rising discontent had taken an upswing into rage, with accusations and threats flying from the crowd. Every face was a mask of incredulity and fury. Every face, that is, except the smirking visage of Lord Tabius Lloyd.
                “Silence in my court!” Adirn shouted, for want of anything else to do. A few of the front-most, and therefore most identifiable, aristocrats settled slightly, but the crowd behind them still roiled. Captain Toxis nodded to his men stationed along the length of the hall, and the quiet sound of unsheathed steel drowned out the deafening shouts.
                “Thank you.” Adirn said, when silence had returned. “I will not have one person starving to feed another, not in my empire. There will be allowances and accommodations made, or those responsible shall be found guilty of murder.”
                “Then we are to starve in place of our peasants, are we?” Lord Lloyd asked. Every word was a rose without its flowers.
                “No-one will starve without the meagre dues of Poverton and its counterparts, Tabius. But if your court is so poorly appointed from your ineffective management then the imperial palace will take steps to ensure that you do not starve. It will also provide assistance in managing your treasury, since you are apparently unable.” Adirn spat.
                “So meddling it is. I understand, your eminence, and thank you for providing such clarification.” With a flourish he made some apparently final notes in his book, and then clapped it triumphantly shut.
                “If you wish to be free of my ‘meddling’, Lord Lloyd, then I suggest you learn how to rule competently. There will be no room for wastrels and vultures in my council. Get out of my sight.” The empress said, unable to stop herself. She could taste iron in her mouth, and this time it wasn’t because she’d started to idly chew on her buttons.
                “Of course, your eminence.” The lord replied with the minimum viable bow. The crowds parted for him as he strode out of the hall, head held high.
                “I demand to speak!” Shouted a woman in gold-dyed furs, pushing her way through the gap that was closing behind Tabius Lloyd. Empress Adirn scrunched her eyes shut tight for a moment, wondering how this audience could have somehow found a way to go worse than the previous day’s, despite the lack of any overt assassination attempts. Face pinched in tempestuous indignation, the woman stood in petitioning position and stared defiantly up at the empress.
                “You are already next on the agenda, Matriarch Avaritsia.” The announcer announced.
                “I am not ignorant to that fact.” She snapped. “Hence why I demand to speak!”
                “Then I will hear you. What have I done now?” The empress grumbled resignedly.
                “Your eminence, I am Josephine Avaritsia, matriarch of the Guilds’ Guild.” Josephine said, drawing herself up to full height. Unfortunately, following Tabius Lloyd only made her look even shorter. Adirn saw movement from the crowd behind her, and a number of other, similarly fur-loving individuals came to stand in a semi-circle behind her. “I represent the collective interest of all the guilds in the City of Torment, who themselves represent the interest of all trades within the City of Torment. I have come here to protest and appeal your targeted decrees against our livelihoods!”
                Adirn’s mouth dropped open slightly, drawing various concerned and disappointed looks from those close by, but the empress didn’t notice them. Instead she was scanning her gaze across the assembled guild of guilds, bedecked in the skins and furs of more animals than Adirn could rightly place as native to the Onyx Empire, and found herself in disbelief.
                “None of these hands look calloused from building gallows or digging drowning pools. Nor are they blackened with the ashes of peasant-burning fires. I struggle to see how my decree could have impacted you.” She assessed incredulously.
                “Gallows and drowning pools are the income of the lords, your eminence, as anyone who knows our culture would have understood. Your attack on us came from another decree entirely. Mr Darkjowl, would you care to take the lead here?” Jospehine said, turning to a round-faced, pale man. Among all the furs in the carcass-laden crowd, his were far from the most decadent. They were, however, immaculately tailored to fit his broad-shouldered form, and tapered perfectly with every undulation of his body.
                “Your eminence, I am Vlad Darkjowl, head of the Robe-tailoring guild. Yesterday afternoon I was brought word by a representative of your court that this season’s order for black robes was cancelled! Need I remind, or perhaps inform, you of the agreed corruption between us?”
                Adirn gasped and bristled at the mention of corruption. It was perplexing enough to think that a tailor could have enough to offer the imperial palace to warrant corruption of any sort, but to say it so brazenly in front of the guilds and nobles was frankly stunning. None in the court even batted an eyelid, however.
                “Remind away, Mr Darkjowl. I am still catching up with the state in which Emperor Tyrranick left matters before his ill-advised invasion.” This time it was the turn of the audience to gasp. Statements of fact about invasions of the White Alliance were apparently far less welcome than allusions to corrupt power structures.
                “My tailoring services are on retainer for the creation of the finest robes that money can buy. I am committed to providing every cult, every sect, and every clandestine society that the empire forms with custom robes at a mere day’s notice. In return I am promised all of the business that the imperial palace offers, with new orders every season for every one of those societies.”
                “That doesn’t sound a lot like corruption to me. It sounds more like a contract.”
                Cackles and great belly laughter rang from the representatives of the guild of guilds.
                “Your eminence, surely you jest? Contracts are matters of honour and trust!” Chuckled Josephine, slapping her thigh in sheer mirth. “Such weaknesses might be the currency of the White Alliance, but none in their right mind would leave something as important as their business in the hands of such fleeting and naïve concepts!”
                Scowls yet again flowed from Adirn. However naïve her words had been, it definitely hadn’t been that funny.
                “We do business on corruption alone. You scratch our back, and we cover yours in the finest, thickest black robes that we can buy or steal. Self-interest, greed and gold can be relied upon. Trust, however, cannot be trusted.” Vlad clarified, managing to keep control of his guffawing for long enough to speak. “But apparently, you are seeking to betray even your own self-interest for... well, we don’t even know what for. How can we do business with someone whose self-interests are unknown? We’ll never find a way of exploiting them for mutual benefit if they’re kept secret, and now I’ve been saddled with back orders of the finest heavy wool from the Shepherds’ guild and cotton from the Plantation Owners’ guild.”
                “And we demand to be paid as per our corruption with the Robe-tailoring guild!” Shouted a wooly-furred, tan-skinned man, leaning out from behind Vlad’s shoulder. “They provide us with coin, and we provide them with wool.”
                “Or cotton, respectively.” Added another in more linen-adjacent furs.
                “Coin for goods is just trading! Not corruption!”
                “And taking away the demand that corruption... er... well… demands, is a breach of corruption!” Vlad persisted.
                “Your eminence, you’re new to this city, that much is clear. Let me make something else clear: you need the guild of guilds to be on your side, for we control the guilds. And the guilds control the supply lines of everything your imperial palace needs, from black robes, to mysterious symbols and pendants, to replica cult sigils, and even a healthy supply of dark eye-make-up to keep you looking sinister. Without us your reign would grind to a halt.” Josephine said slowly.
                “Are you trying to blackmail me, guild matriarch?” Adirn asked. It was a genuine question; the cadence of Jospehine’s words had implied they were a threat, but the content just didn’t seem to match up with the tone.
                “Blackmail is the primary form of agreement and co-operation between most parties in the City of Torment, your eminence.” Captain Toxis said into her ear, with a note of pity in his voice. “My men are all employed on a salary, but they only stay because they are blackmailed with poverty if they don’t.”
                “Again that’s just normal employ... nevermind, we’ll go through it later.” Adirn said, shaking her head. “Alright, guild matriarchs, masters, mistresses, and other titles. You will have your orders and your payments, but they will not be for black robes. I understand the need for my empire not to collapse financially. Details shall reach you within a few days.” Compromised the empress. Jospehine looked back smugly.
                “I knew you’d see, ahem, reason.” She smirked. Adirn rolled her eyes.
                “You are dismissed.”
                The remainder of the audience dragged on. Lesser nobles seeking their own protection from collapsing torture industries took their turns to stand and pleased with Adirn, and several accused the empress of vendettas against cruelty. They weren’t incorrect, of course, but it irked the empress every time that such vendettas were framed as a bad thing.
                By the time the empress made it away from the audience hall and back into her office, the sight of her double-skewered washerwoman chair was actually a relief.
                “Keto, do we have spies?” Adirn asked, sitting and staring down at her desk.
                “We do, your eminence.” Replied the guard captain.
                “And how would I go about setting those spies on Lord Tabius Lloyd and Viscount Sinistere?”
                “You would need to arrange matters with the spymaster, your eminence.” He said. Adirn sighed at the captain’s continued enjoyment of stringing her out for answers. It generally meant that she was going to eventually get a response that she didn’t like.
                “And who is the spymaster, Captain Toxis?”
                “Lord Tabius Lloyd, your eminence.”
                Adirn groaned. Of course it was.
                “Fine. I’ll have to find another way to keep an eye on him.”
                “Traditionally, that is the purpose for which we use the dungeon, your eminence. We can have him arrested and tor... no, not tortured any more... just arrested immediately if you will it, and we’ll keep an eye on him there.” Offered Captain Toxis. The empress couldn’t deny that it was tempting, but nevertheless it wouldn’t do.
                “No, thank you. He’s yet to commit a crime against me.” She thought about what she’d just said for a moment. “Well, a crime by the standards of the City of Torment.” There was another pause. “Well, a crime that anyone would wish to punish, by the standards of the City of Torment.”
                Captain Toxis shrugged and Adirn deflated. There wasn’t much of her to deflate in the first place, but now she could easily have been mistaken for a pile of discarded laundry with a wig.
                “I guess we need to hire some more. Or bribe one of the existing spies maybe? Would that work?”
                “It has happened before, your eminence. But the problem with hiring someone by bribe is that you’ve hired someone who is open to bribes. Tabius Lloyd indulges in a lot of bribery, your eminence. Besides which it wouldn’t help much anyway because all the spies are abroad in the White Alliance.”
                “Oh for goodness sakes! I swear that if they’re plotting for another ‘surprise’ attack then I will burn this whole palace to the ground!”
                “In that case I shall ring for the servants to fetch you some kindling then, your eminence.” He reached for a bell-pull next to the doorway.
                “Leave that bell alone! It was just an expression. Although I’m getting bloody close to just letting Lord Infernus have one final hurrah with this place.” The empress groaned. It was a throaty, coarse groan that made Captain Toxis momentarily scan the room for a hunting dog that felt deeply unwell. “Why can’t this just be easy? All I want is to not kill anyone, or have anybody tortured. Why is everybody fighting so hard against it? Why do I need to re-patriate and re-hire my own spies?”
                Captain Toxis shrugged. It seemed to be his catch-all response to these matters.
                “Did I do the wrong thing with Poverton?”
                “It depends on who you ask, your eminence. Glenn of Poverton didn’t seem to think so.”
                “I’m asking what you think, Keto.”
                “Speaking as one who must defend you from assassins, your decision will give me more work to do. But speaking as one who has done this work for many years, whatever decision you made would give me more work to do.”
                Adirn pondered his answer for a while, and tried to think of a time that he’d ever actually expressed an opinion. She supposed it didn’t much matter.
                “Thank you, captain. I think that helps.”
                The empress sat thinking in silence until absolutely any quantity of time might have passed. She knew that there were duties she was probably neglecting but they couldn’t distract her from the ruminations on how to deal with Viscount Sinistere and Lord Tabius Lloyd. She was only roused when the sound of footsteps began to ring along the corridor. They weren’t the long-legged, purposeful footsteps of a marching lord, nor the soft and subtle footsteps of an assassin. They weren’t even the nervous but disciplined paces of a Skullery maid, preparing to polish up the boar’s skull seat. These were the choppy, shuffling and above-all judgemental footsteps of the Mistress of Records. Looking up and along the corridor, Adirn came face-to-face with Katherine as she doddered slowly towards the imperial office. Something in her hard, hawk’s face was different, and her defiant, piercing eyes looked deferentially away from the empress.
                “Oh, I’d forgotten that it was nearly time for the history of horror. I really don’t have time for this... then again, I might learn something about how to deal with people like Tabius Lloyd I suppose...” Adirn thought out loud. Keto looked at her until she made eye contact.
                “Generally speaking, your eminence, it’s with execution and torture.” He said, unsurprisingly.
                Adirn shook her head.
                “I’ll find another way.” She said. Looking at the corridor again, she saw that Katherine had made precious little progress. If Adirn didn’t know better, she’d have said that the mistress of records was stringing the process out because she also enjoyed the gut-wrenchingly awkward sensation. Being forced to endure the long and uncomfortable approach again, quite against her will, the empress wrote a short note to herself as a reminder to have a door fitted.
                “Good morning, your eminence!” Katherine said, unnervingly brightly, when she finally reached the threshold of the office. It put Adirn even more on edge; a statement coming from the Mistress of Records without even a hint of snark was like a snake slithering up with its mouth closed; the absence of visible fangs only made their sudden appearance more inevitable.
                “Good morning, Katherine.” The empress replied, unable to even start masking the uncertainty in her voice. “Are you well today?”
                “Yes, yes very well. I believe that I am finally able to start taking some pride in my work.” The Mistress of Records smiled. “Do you remember where we had got to?”
                Adirn looked upwards with the effort of recollection. Katherine had recounted an astounding number of the cruel deeds and betrayals which constituted the history of The Onyx Empire, and following the trail of suffering to its end was a path as twisting as it was harrowing.
                “It was… Empress Spinebreaker? No.. Spinesbane. But there was definitely breaking in there somewhere…”
                “Empress Juliet Spinesbane the Breaker, your eminence. A serviceable effort at memory on your part.” Came the correction. Adirn tensed slightly when her mistake was neither punished nor mocked. Something was definitely going on, she decided.
                “Right... yes. We were discussing how she managed to subjugate the outlying villages. If I recall correctly they had already pledged fealty, but the empress wished to make sure they wouldn’t change their minds. So, she demonstrated what would have happened if they’d not bent the knee, just in case there was any doubt as to the purpose of her custom built and well-labelled spine-breaker.”
                “Exactly correct, your eminence. Perfection in the execution of the will of an iron-fist. Although it seems that you already know a little more about such things than I had given you credit for.”
                “I’m not sure that I...” Adirn started, but the sound of further echoing boots pulled her attention back to the corridor. Marching along towards her at a far more impressive pace than Kaetherine had was Count Rott, accompanied by Lady Vipus and Duchess Asphyxia. Puffed of chest and broad of shoulder, they cut an admittedly intimidating and respectable figure as they began their long pilgrimage towards the imperial office. As Adirn watched their approach, however, they began to tire and sag. The initial shock value of their proud posture lost its claws under the effort and scrutiny of a hike. By the time they stood before Adirn’s desk, respectfully deigning not to stand in front of the seated Katherine, a lot of the impact had been dulled away.
                “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Adirn asked, drily. Quite aside from her mood, she genuinely had a thirst.
                “We demand satisfaction and fair treatment, your eminence. Your decree yesterday was an outrage and an attack on our income, as was your ruling on Glenn of Poverton. But we stood uncomplaining and allowed you to exercise your will.”
                “Neither of those things are true, Lady Vipus, as well you know. You all complained bitterly about my decree, and you did not ‘allow’ me to do anything. I am your empress and it is my right to make decrees.” Adirn snarled back.
                “That wasn’t the point of why we came here.” Count Rott snapped irritably at the Lady. “We’ve been cheated!”
                “Cheated and then mocked! You steal away our heritage, the passions and works of our families for generations, then gloat over us with what you took away!” Lady Asphyxia whined, breathlessly. Her cheeks were red and her throat bruised. It made the empress shudder.
                “Yeah! How come you get to torture people and we don’t?” Count Rott finally clarified.
                “I have made it very clear I do not torture people!”
                “Then what about Countess Lascera? You tortured her all day, right under our noses while you took our gallows away, and didn’t even let us watch!” Count Rott complained, crossing his arms angrily to punctuate the end of his sentence. Adirn half expected him to start stamping his feet, too.            Sitting in her washer-woman spearing chair, she stared at the three incensed nobles. Her own feelings of guilt over Countess Lascera’s inadvertent suffering did battle with the insult that anyone could accuse her of meaning it. From the left, out of the shadows of her mind, came a stunning blow from her fury that her dark council would seek to berate their empress, followed by another that nobody was actually waiting for the dark council meeting in order to discuss these matters. She was stun-locked by her own various negative emotions.
                One thought drifted to the top, out of the mass.
                “Is this why you’ve been so happy with me today, Katherine?” Adirn asked, mouth hanging open in incredulity. It seemed to be happening a lot.
                “Of course! You’ve finally started to embrace the ways of the Onyx Empire as your own, rather than foisting your childish opinions onto the rest of us.” Confirmed the Mistress of Records. “I will admit to having felt rather irked by your hypocrisy in making me dredge up all that paperwork, but then I realised just how diabolical it was to hypocritically torture somebody yourself, whilst simultaneously denying the pleasure to everyone else. Truly a despicable abuse of power worthy of an empress.”
                “Hmph. In fairness it was a worthy move. Well played, your eminence.” Lady Asphyxia mumbled. “But now that you’ve had your fun and made your point, I demand that we be allowed to return to the old ways!”
                Adirn pinched the bridge of her nose and turned away from her petitioners, such as they were. Attempting to calm down, she looked down the almost endless corridor and saw a priest of Virum walking past, clutching a gold trinket of some sort. Nothing here made sense.
                “Look, I didn’t mean to torture anybody and I don’t enjoy the fact that it happened. Breaching my own law is not a feeling that I relish. There will be no retraction of my decree, nor dispensation for the council, nor negotiation on the matter.”
                “You didn’t even appreciate what you did!?” Count Rott boomed, flabbergasted. He staggered and stamped in a small circle, unable to contain himself. “And to think that I respected your betrayal!”
                Adirn felt her lower lip wobble, a development which carried equal parts shock and disappointment. She couldn’t work out whether it was the accusation of betrayal itself, or the explicit lack of respect from Count Rott of all people, but there was precious little time to regain control of herself.
                “Leave my office, you three. There is nothing more for us to discuss until I convene the Dark Council.” She said tensely, willing herself not to start flushing. Surreptitiously she blinked the tears away.
                With scowls all around, the bitter nobles bade terse farewells and began the long hike back along the corridor. Adirn refused to meet the gazes of either Keto or Katherine for a minute or so, focusing on swallowing the lump in her throat, drying her eyes, and thinking of some way to punish the people who’d hurt her. As ideas flitted through her mind, she found herself uncomfortably close to another bout of professional hypocrisy.
                “How did they know about Lascera?” The empress asked, finally. She flopped against the back of her chair and fiddled with one of the letter-deliverer-openers. Imagining the blade slipping between the ribs of Count Rott was wonderfully soothing.
                “My guards will not have spoken of the matter, if that is a concern, your eminence.” Keto replied, almost sounding defensive. “They are loyal to me and to the throne.” He added. The order was telling.
                “Countess Lascera herself told me.” Katherine said. “She came back this morning to reclaim her blades from the armoury, and since she was allowed to walk free the quartermaster saw no reason to deny her.”
                “I should have seen that coming, I suppose. She wasn’t going to take being made to lie down erm... well, lying down.”
                “You think she was enraged? Trying to smear your name?” Katherine asked, quizzically. “I thought you’d grown past this nonsense. Countess Lascera was a vision of pride when she spoke to me! To be the first noble personally tortured by the exquisite means of our new empress, Adirn Deepgrave the Denier, is an honour.”
                Adirn looked dubiously at her Mistress of Records. Knowledgeable and connected she certainly was, but delusions apparently came along with the package.
                “I fear that we might need to expect a rallying of the nobles against me.” Adirn said, gravely.
                Katherine gave her a withering look.
                “You’re the empress of the Onyx Empire, Adirn. Of course they’ll rally against you! That’s what happens to our imperial rulers; they either get assassinated by their council, murdered during a coup, or executed by the White Alliance’s retaliatory strike.” Listed the mistress of records, counting off each fate on her fingers. “You knew this so well in our lesson yesterday.”
                Silence fell. Adirn looked again down the corridor to see another priest of Almighty Virum carting away a trolley of sanctified worship-nooses.
                “Are you sure that just letting her go was the best idea, eminence?" Asked Captain Toxis. “Perhaps a return to usage of the dungeons and the executioner would be beneficial in this case.”
                "She said she was sorry, and I said I've no intention of torturing or executing anyone. I have to give her a chance." Adirn explained, with just a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "But I accept that I might have brought the ramifications of forgiveness onto myself….” She sighed. “If a coup is launched then the ringleaders shall be tried for treason. And if more daggers come flying at me then Countess Lascera will be incarcerated for lying to me."
                "But not for trying twice to kill you?" Asked the captin
                Adirn shrugged.
                "Apparently that’s what everyone does around here. I won't pretend that I like it, but I'm trying not to take it personally."
                “A personal interest tends to be what keeps rulers alive, however.” Katherine advised. It took the empress by surprise; unless she was very much mistaken, it sounded almost like the Mistress of Records would have preferred for her not to be assassinated. It wasn’t that the empress thought Katherine to be emotionless, just that she thought the emotions to be limited to disappointment and nationalistic pride; never loyalty or sentimentality.
                “A fair comment, Katherine. I wish to take more of an interest in Lord Tabius Lloyd in particular, but I hear that he is in control of the empire’s spies.” Adirn responded
                “He is in control of the spies of which the empire makes use, your eminence. There is no official spymaster of the empire. There hasn’t been for many years.”
                Keto shrugged under Adirn’s questioning gaze.
                “Same difference from what I said.” He muttered.
                "The Onyx Empire has dedicated itself to evil for years, how did it come to have no spies?" The empress asked in desperation.
                "They were all lost to the White Alliance. So the spymaster went to look for them and got lost as well. So it went for several appointments of the office of the Imperial Spymaster until it was eventually disbanded."
                “And nobody thought of just… not sending our spies into the White Alliance?”
                “Then what would be the point of them?” Keto asked with a disarming honesty. Adirn rolled her eyes and looked at Katherine, who shared the captain of the guard’s confusion.
                “For exactly this kind of purpose! Rooting out plots against me in my own empire!” She explained.
                “Then burn down all the noble houses and besiege every castle except your own.” Katherine snapped. “You don’t need spies to find that sort of thing out.”
                A flash of gold caught the corner of Adirn’s vision. It was yet another member of the clergy carrying a selection of grim idols.
                “Did someone organise for the more… harrowing artefacts to be removed from my living quarters?”
                “The Imperial Malignancy Chambers.” Katherine corrected severely.
                “Either one.”
                “None brought word to me, your eminence, but I am the captain of the guard, not your chamberlain.”
                “I have a chamberlain?”
                “Of course you do, girl! You didn’t think that your servants just worked out for themselves what they should be doing, did you?” Katherine chided. Normality had reasserted itself in her tone.
                “Then why haven’t I been introduced? This seems like exactly the sort of person I should know.”
                “That would be another of Emperor Tyrannick’s edicts, your eminence. He insisted that the chamberlain should just know what was required and never bother him. All of his demands were to be met to the letter, but the chamberlain was never to be summoned or seen, because time wasted in summoning was time spent without the demand satisfied. To his credit, the chamberlain followed those orders perfectly. None of us have seen him in over a year, but everything that Emperor Tyrannick asked was arranged impeccably.” Keto explained.
                “I can’t even begin to fathom that. He’s gone but his job is being done?”
                “Yes, your eminence.”
                “And no-one has seen or heard from him?”
                “Correct, your eminence.”
                “Then how can we be so sure that he didn’t just leave?”
                “The servants still receive their orders, your eminence.”
                “Or they just know what their jobs are.” The empress proposed.
                “The servants cannot write their own orders down on parchment every morning, your eminence.” Katherine pointed out. “Quite aside from anything else, the majority of them can’t write.”
                “Then who is doing it?”
                “The servants talk of Chamberlain Greysoul’s ghost bringing them their orders. They hear his breath in the night, hear his ghostly reprimands for jobs poorly done, see his will written on parchment. They say that he, in his dedication, took Emperor Tyrannick’s orders to heart and simply disappeared into the Imperial Palace, like a…” Captain Toxis struggled to think of the word.
                “…demon watching over its infernal kingdom.” Katherine finished for him.
                “Hogwash. There is no demon in my palace. You say this chamberlain obeys every instruction from the ruler?”
                “Of course, your eminence. It is Chamberlain Greysoul’s ghost’s duty.”
                “In that case, I order that Chamberlain Greysoul’s ghost attends me this instant, where I can see him.”
                There was silence and stillness in the office. No demons emerged from the walls or the floor. No ghosts became corporeal in the room. Just the impatient shuffling of Katherine, desperate to either teach history or chastise the empress. Whichever came first.
                “There. No magical ghost chamberlain. One of the servants must have taken charge and I should like to meet them. Maybe it’s Gwen; she seemed to be the bravest. Or, the least scared. Or perhaps the most able to resist how scared she was and still speak to me…”
                “We can question the house staff, your eminence. Have them reveal who is behind the orders?” Captain Keto suggested.
                “Oh goodness no!” The empress shook her head. “They were scared enough of just meeting me. If I question them then they might never recover. It can be a mystery, I suppose. I’ll just keep shouting my whims into the castle and hope that our ghost hears them.” She said sarcastically. “For the moment, however, I would like to know why, if no-one has ordered a clearing of the ornamentation, there is a steady stream of priests moving through my home with armfuls of golden sacraments.”
                Keto drew his sword.
                “If there are thieves in your palace, your eminence, then clergy or heretic they will be brought to justice.”
                “And I see exactly what form that justice is expected to take. Please just bring one of them here to me, unharmed, such that they can explain what’s going on.”
                Captain Toxis nodded and advanced purposefully along the corridor. As the empress watched him go, fist clenched tightly around the handle of his blade, she hoped that his definition of ‘unharmed’ agreed with her own.
                “Well, while your captain of the guard is off investigating the minutia of palace life for you, would you care to let me continue my lesson? Or am I to sit here and indulge your musing instead?” Katherine asked, claws fully extended once more.
                “Please, go ahead Mistress of Records. Empress Juliet Spinesbane the Breaker made her rounds of the villages surrounding the City of Torment and ensured that they remained in line. What is next?”
                Captain Toxis was gone for only a handful of minutes. When he returned, he was pushing ahead of him a middle-aged priest of Almighty Virum. Clad in familiar robes depicting the hanging of the entire land mass of the White Alliance, the priest of Almighty Virum did not appear to be in high spirits, despite the wealth of gold clutched in his arms. His look of concern deepened when the Mistress of Records recounted exactly what novel use Juliet Spinesbane found for her contemporary Grand Priestess’ censer.
                Adirn raised a hand to pause Katherine in her speech, a gesture which the Mistress of Record’s did not appreciate.
                “Beneath you to hear me out, is it? Can’t even open your own mouth to demand my silence?” She snapped, the judgement and fury building beneath her crumpled dress.
                “I simply didn’t wish to interrupt, but we have a guest, Katherine.” The empress wearily explained.
                “Your eminence.” Captain Toxis said by way of greeting. It was a redundant gesture since the empress had clearly had no choice but to watch him watch all the way up the corridor, but the force of habit always was stronger than the hand of logic.
                “Thank you captain.
                “Oh do we have a guest?” Katherine continued, biting down on the bone she’d found. “Well thank you for pointing out that someone who’s more gold than man has just walked in. I would never have noticed, from my position here, next to you, facing the same door as you. And I can see why it is I who must not only wait for your attention, but in fact be interrupted in my speech so that I can be ignored more quickly.”
                “Did you have need of me, your eminence?” The priest of Almighty Virum asked with feeble uncertainty. He had one eye on the increasingly displeased Mistress of Records.
                “I do, but just for a few questions. I would like-”
                “No, please, go ahead. Pretend I’m not here speaking any longer.”
                “Katherine, please. I’m sorry, I’ll be back with you in-” Adirn started again, but Katherine had built up momentum and could not be brought to heel so easily.
                “I’ll just continue not spending my precious time on my official duties, and instead sit quietly nearby while you talk to the clergy, hoping that I am graced with the honour of your concentration for even a second.”
                “I can come back later if it pleases you, your eminence?” Offered the priest, attempting to wring his hands together despite the enormous volume of iconography they clutched. He wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
                “Katherine, I apologise.” Growled the empress. Her voice betrayed that she felt a lot of things, but apologetic did not feature among them. “Please, continue.”
                “I shouldn’t like to impose my lessons, that you requested, on you.” Pouted the old woman.
                “It’s no imposition.” Adirn managed, through the most gritted of teeth.
                “No, no. I know when I’m being pandered to.”
                “These are all very heavy golden idols, your eminence. If I might just go, or put them down…”
                “You will wait there until I am ready to speak to you.” The empress snapped, before spinning back to the Mistress of Records. “Go ahead, Katherine. As your empress, I order you to continue your lesson.”
                “An order this time!? Well we are settling into the role of despot aren’t we? But fret not, your eminence, my lips are sealed until your divine business with the Virum-lover is done.” Sneered Katherine, her spite starting to overflow and seep across the other denizens of the room.
                “Then we shall wait here in silence until you are ready to speak. I am a patient woman, as well you know.” Adirn said, barely restraining herself from shouting. She tremored in the overly generous seat, clutching the skulls at the end of each armrest and driving her fingers into the eye sockets. Katherine met the empress’ eye, wearing the cold defiance of a civil servant who’s been less helpful to better people for worse reasons. Every wrinkle on her face, every vein in her eye, and every coarse, grey hair that had escaped her severe bun was focused on Adirn’s face. Not once blinking or flitting her gaze away, she dared the empress to test her will.
                The empress had dared. A minute passed. Tight-lipped and straight-mouthed, Adirn maintained her focused stare at the older woman’s self-righteous expression of stubbornness. Her cheek was starting to itch, but she wouldn’t give Katherine the satisfaction of raising a hand to scratch it. Both legs were going numb from sitting in an uncomfortable lean, but the empress would take an eternity of pins and needles over giving in. Being undermined at every opportunity was something that she would tolerate no longer, especially when reprieve would only otherwise come from demonstrations of cruelty. The old woman had to learn who held the power.
                The priest of Almighty Virum whimpered and shifted the mass of gold slightly, his arms burning with the exertion of holding it all up. He motioned to start speaking, and then thought better of it when Captain Toxis rested one hand on his shoulder. If the empress was to engage in battle of wills then, apparently, so was everyone else.
                Tense silence strung itself between Adirn, Katherine and the priest of Almighty Virum, binding each of one of them to all the others. It pulled hard at all of them and made standing still in the room into an interminable trial. Captain Toxis, as ever, was apparently immune or ignorant to this effect, standing in his unique manner of relaxed readiness and simply observing the room in front of him. Every now and then he thought he could see a quiver of Adirn’s lip, or tension on Katherine’s hand as if she needed to shift her position, but neither of them gave in. Even when a sudden and room-shaking bang erupted, as the priest’s strength failed him and an unholy weight of gold hit the floor, the empress and the Mistress of Records held one another’s eyes.
                It took nearly ten more minutes until Katherine began to squirm. The cold anger in her eyes had long since faded away to stubborn resolve, and she held her silence out of principle rather than any desire to teach Adirn a lesson. Discomfort was, however, starting to set in and she could feel it. The young empress was not adept at holding her dark or imposing expressions, instead looking every bit as uncomfortable as she tried to pretend she wasn’t, but Katherine could not help admitting to herself that the girl was impressive. Her own, aged joints were starting to complain about their inaction, and a rising urgency from her bladder carried with it reminders of Countess Lascera. A spark of pride reignited, and all the fight left the old woman.
                “Juliet Spinesbane the Breaker’s reign ended unceremoniously during her failed invasion of the White Alliance.” Katherine continued, as if she’d never stopped. The sudden sound of her voice made Adirn jump. “She was felled by a blade in the spine from Harriett the Betrayer who, it transpired, could not be trusted. I believe I can break there to allow you to see to your guest, your eminence.”
                Stiffly, with very little blood anywhere that it needed to be, Adirn made a concerted effort to turn away from Katherine and face the priest.
                “Thank you, Katherine. I shall try to be brief.” She said, her mouth dry from holding silence. The priest of Almighty Virum was slightly stooped over the pile of gold, as if he’d made a futile attempt at arresting its fall, and clutched at his exhausted arms. There was fear and pain in his eyes as he looked up at Adirn.
                “Your holiness, I must ask why you are carrying these sacred items from the imperial palace. Could you please explain?”
                The priest’s eyes flicked from side to side, as if expecting an ambush or some other subterfuge.
                “I was doing Almighty Virum’s will, as instructed by the Grand Priestess, your eminence.” He said, the words croaking from a dry throat. He’d made the mistake of standing with his mouth open the whole time and all moisture was now gone. “In her terrible wisdom she decreed that Almighty Virum had no place in the imperial palace, and so all of His most diabolical artefacts are to be brought back to the Cathedral of the Deep, your eminence.”
                “Oh.” The empress said, feeling distinctly underwhelmed. She’d waited more than ten minutes for that explanation, having built up grand ideas of theft or skulduggery whilst waiting for Katherine to break. “I suppose she’s right, because I’ll have no truck with this hanging of the White Alliance business.”  Cogs turned inside her head and settled into place. “This is about the robes, I take it?”
                The priest nodded and Adirn rolled her eyes.
                “She’s welcome to it all. You may go on your way.”
                Nodding quickly in gratitude, the priest bent down and made a significant effort to lift all the iconography back into his arms whilst hiding the obvious dents they’d sustained from striking the floor. A resigned sadness at what might happen to him because of the damage passed over his face. Not looking likely to make it back to the Cathedral of the Deep without another calamitous interaction with gravity, he shuffled away down the corridor.
                “That’s another rebellion to quell, then.” Adirn grumbled when the priest was out of earshot, dropping her chin into her hands.
                “You would do well to find some reconciliation, your eminence. Almighty Virum is the patron of nearly all in the City of Torment, and the Grand Priestess could make finding friends difficult for you.” Advised Katherine.
                Adirn was pondering the Mistress of Records’ words when another great, expensive-sounding crash and cry echoed down the corridor towards the Empress’ office. Looking up in faintly amused interest to see how many sacred blades had been bent out of shape by the fall this time, the empress was surprised to see Lawrence running up the corridor towards her.
                “Your eminence! Your eminence!” he called breathlessly, skidding through the doorway and very nearly tripping onto an Onyx ox’s skull. “A delegation… from the White Alliance… has arrived.” He panted, folding over with his hands on his thighs.
                Everybody in the room snapped up straight, even Captain Toxis. His hand drifted instinctively to his sword, as if the messenger were about to suffer for the sins of the message.
                “What? Why? I wasn’t informed of this!” Adirn said quickly, scrabbling her hands against the desk in an effort to sit up straight in her enormous seat. “What are they doing here?”
                “They… they did not send word… ahead of themselves.” Lawrence relayed. “But… they are waiting at the main doors.”
                Stomach, ribs and pelvis were attempting to tie themselves into a knot within Adirn’s abdomen. Her head pounded with the history of atrocities that the Onyx Empire had attempted to commit against the White Alliance over the years, and every one of the last two decades of surprise attacks felt yet more foolhardy.
                “Are they going to execute me for Emperor Tyrannick’s crimes?” she panicked, looking pleadingly at Captain Toxis. Before he could answer, Katherine slapped her.
                “Calm down girl. It’s a delegation not an army. They’re here to extend formal greetings to the new ruler and express their vain hopes for a long-lasting peace.” The Mistress of Records snapped. “Get a grip. You can’t fall to pieces just because the white and shiny cowards have arrived.”
                Although her heart still pounded like a prisoner trying to escape a locked room in a sinking ship, Adirn’s head began to refocus on the stinging sensation in her cheek.
                “Well for one thing, ouch. But for another thank you.” She said, brushing herself down for want of something productive to do. “I suppose you had better send them in.”
                Lawrence looked up, nodded, and then hung his head again to continue panting.
                “Would you like a glass of water?” Adirn asked.
                He shook his head.
                “I will tell them… right away… your eminence.”
                The empress nodded as Lawrence straightened out and hurried away again down the corridor. With clenched fists she steeled herself for a chat.