There was something about travel baskets that Xanarona liked over any other means of travel. Maybe it was because she could drape them with affluence and class unlike the rigidly serviceable travel pods.

The one she rode had smooth plates which scarcely made a sound even when unfurling. And Xanarona had ordered that long tapestries of black and silver be used to adorn balloon and basket alike so that from afar it looked like a huge, floating piece of bulbous clothing. Four other travel baskets escorted the royal basket, one of them bearing gifts for House Loran.

Inside Xanarona's basket was a compartment where she could sleep and eat and tinker until her arrival at Thyrv. There was a window carved into the basket, covered with mesh fabric so that she could see the world outside. Oftentimes, Xanarona was happy that fate had her in the Silver Belt rather than the dreary Iron Belt, if only for the fact that the former was slightly brighter.

From her little mesh window she saw the distribution of terminals around House Loran. Few new ones had been built since she was last in Thyrv, and that was long ago, before she had taken up her granddaughter's body. These terminals, no less than twenty abysses away from each other, were under the management of House Loran which was under the governance of the Empress.

This would be Xanarona’s first visit since her coronation as Empress-designate of all the Belt, and she had much to restore. This was the essence of the long fight, and everything she had suffered. As much as she loved her daughter, Xanfeil, the Empress was much inclined to let some little things go. Except Xanarona took nothing as little. Little setbacks were symptoms of something surely.

As shared memories between Xanarona and her granddaughter would have it, the Empress-designate recalled parts of the interaction her granddaughter already had with the House. Xana had courted Cibil, the heir of House Loran, but it never even reached the copulatory stage. If there was one thing that Xanarona did not share with Xana, it was this—her granddaughter was tough to parse, especially by those she courted. Another member of House Loran that Xanarona had known herself was the Avenue, the very head of the House, Edxine. When Xanarona was Empress in her former body, she had hosted the young heir of House Loran and his father in the Drafts. Not that Edxine and Xanfeil shared common interests. Xanarona had felt he was far too… official, even at the tender age. Now she was curious to see how the age had defiled him.

The Houses within the Silver Belt ruled region-clusters, as in, places not as benevolent with land as the Drafts but with enough close-together plateaus to form a litter of facilities and terminals around the ruling House. House Loran was a stack of differently sized metal cylinders on a soaking black rock. Xanarona appreciated it through her mesh window but everything lacked when put beside her Silver Pyramid. The food pipe of the House rose into the sky, the three of them crooked and together in a bundle. Out of the clump of metal cylinders that made House Loran, five merged at the top to form a landing. It was all beauty, hardly any practicality. No summit like those found on terminals, rather it was a House, indeed, to live in. Still and all, House Loran had the whole of Thyrv under its grip so practicality did not matter much. Better the looming sight that announced a presence unlike the others.

Xanarona was not intimidated by the ambition of the next greatest House in the Silver Belt. In fact, she was pleased at their aspirations but had hoped, as her royal basket descended onto the landing, that they did not overstep. This was what she built those years back and this was what she would uphold as long as her immortality persevered. She had told herself, ‘Every grandchild, and I will be reborn.’

Hedwig opened the hatch leading to her compartment and announced, “My dam, we have arrived.”

Xanarona was always liberal in her dressing. Her coronation had been the rare exception. Her dress showed the skin of her hands and the small of her back, young and taut. Also, the one slab her mother had crowned her with was on her head, fixed in with the tangle of hair. A slate of the basket was laid out as a ramp for her. She recognized only the Avenue, Edxine, very well. The rest of the faces were blurs of Xana's memories.

“The House, Loran is more than honoured to host the Empress-designate of the Silver Belt for the duration of her stay.” Edxine stepped forward. High collars, and low sleeves. Still the official, serious person she knew in her past self.

“And am I happy to see the lasting glory of this House!” Xanarona spoke with her own tone and inflections. She did not bother that people might say that the way she presented had changed. Her granddaughter Xana had been more mindful. “Your gift to me on the dawn of my Coronation was the very best, as expected. It must have been Cibil,”—she looked at the heir—“who told you of my love for the bow. I have a collection of them and an additional one is always welcome.”

“Brightdawn, Xana,” Cibil said, all too casual. “Your new role fits you well.”

Xanarona saw Edxine suck in his lips, perhaps about to scold his son for his informality but she intervened, “There is a lot to uphold in Thyrv. I hope you will be up to it when you are Avenue.” She looked at the woman standing with Cibil, holding a child in her arms. “Who is the beautiful woman behind you?”

“She is my wife. You never replied to the invitation we sent for the Union,” Cibil said.

“I don't believe I was speaking to you,” Xanarona said.

Cibil raised a brow, surprised.

“What are you called?” Xanarona asked the woman again.

The woman stepped forward and bowed. “My Empress—”

“Use dam. My mother is still Empress.”

“Pardon me, dam. I am Edbeth Rihle—”

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“Oh, a daughter of House Rihle?”

“No, dam. A cousin.”

“I see. Good that you are here then. This visitation is for Loran as it is for all the other Houses, which I would visit in time.”

“The pleasure is mine, dam.”

“You've birthed such a beautiful boy. What is his name?” Xanarona spread her arms in invitation of the child and Edbeth brought the boy promptly.

“His name is Cixil, dam,” she said.

“Oh Cixil. Beautiful name for a beautiful boy,” she cooed.

“We should go inside. A feast awaits us,” Edxine interrupted the pleasantries.

“I have brought gifts.” She looked back. “Nara, show them.”

Some of the reserves of House Loran walked towards Nara who led them to the travel basket full of glass.

“We offer you the best pressed glass in all of the Belt. Perhaps all of Krakas,” she said.

“I am very grateful for this, Empress-designate,” Edxine said.

“Now, onto that feast you were talking about.”

The two parties and their reserves took a lift below into the house. Every room was shaped in the same vain cylinder. They dined on the usual solids, and had the infamous celebratory white fluff for desert.

“Where's your twin, Cibil?” Xanarona asked as she finished her meal.

“She's not around. She has delegate work in a host terminal in a region far west,” Cibil replied.

“Even those times when I frequented this place she was ne’er to be found. Just like her father. Always made herself busy and scarce. A trait I do admire.”

Cibil crushed the food under his spoon and smiled. “Well who doesn't? Father shares the same sentiment often.”

“I see. One or two of us could learn something from her,” Xana said. “What did she train as again? Prophet?”

“Pilgrim,” Cibil said, almost bitterly.

“Mhmm.”

“Empress-designate, I am sure that as much as it pleases you to reminisce of the past, it is not at all why you came,” Edxine said.

“I had planned on calling a meeting of the Avenues after my coronation but I squandered the thought,” she said.

“If I may ask why?”

“Traitors, Edxine. Traitors. Who knows? In the years since my grandmother passed some strings may have come loose.”

“Traitors?” Edxine angled his long head. “Apart from some trying incidents, your mother has done well to keep the Belt united.”

“My mother is as severe as she is thorough.” She paused for effect. “She is neither, Edxine. Especially in these times when empires are uniquely tested, there's a need for a firmer hand. And don’t worry, the Empress knows this herself. That is why I am here.”

“Well, if the situation grants that you inquire for any treason in this House, you are more than free to do so, Empress-designate,” Edxine said.

“Xana. Really?” Cibil declared incapable of taking in anymore of the backhanded dialogue.

“Cibil. You'll do well to accord respect to due process.” Edxine chided his son. “The Empress-designate has said nothing to undermine our House.” He looked again at Xanarona. “You'll have all the help you need to clear House Loran of any suspicion.”

“You can't seriously think that, Xana.” Cibil ignored his father.

Xanarona sucked in her cheeks, moved her mouth around in a seemingly contemplative manner and finally said, “I trust you, Edxine. I trust House Loran. But, I'll need its help and discretion in vetting the other Houses.”

“As I have said, we will cooperate in everything.”

“Good. You are an architect, are you not?”

“I am.”

“And several of the Houses have requested your genius in their regions?”

“Yes.”

“I will need to see the blueprints you have crafted for them. You may not see it yourself, but I have personally known betrayal and they are of these little things.”

“I never throw away a blueprint. I have them all stashed in a cabinet.”

“I'll send Nara to get them when I am ready. Also, I need records of the transactions of delegates, armory and vehicles between House Loran and House Bandaggaile. They are a peaceful House and that is why I have chosen to start with them. I'll keep the troublesome Houses for later, especially that Hadtlinn.”

“I have a reserve, Dorren, who handles such records.”

“Also, if you have a delegate who panders to rumors and gossips, I'd like to see them.”

Edxine, caught off guard, managed to say, “I am sure we can find someone.”

“I trust you. I trust your House.” Xanarona repeated. “But I don't yet trust your household. This conversation should only be relayed to trusted, necessary ears. Cibil, you too. Don't go around rambling.”

Cibil scoffed. His was the only meal left unfinished.

Edxine stood. “I should start putting things in order.”

Xananora nodded and with that, he left.

“Why don't you show me to my room, Cibil?”

“You know your room.”

“No I don't. Show me.” She rose and turned to Edbeth and the child. “Edbeth, I hope you don't mind?”

“Not at all, dam.”

“You do well to invite me to every one of little Cixil's stardom. If I can't make it myself, I will certainly have someone bring him gifts.”

“I will.”

“Let's be on our way, Cibil.”

Cibil reluctantly followed her. He hadn't dressed like his father. He wore a white tunic and black pants held on by a long belt, and had an enviable swathe of dark hair. He paced ahead of Xanarona, Hedwig also in stride behind them. The pair exchanged no words as they passed through the doors and walked by the hallways to her room.

She hadn't bothered to thank him when they finally reached her room. But as he went away she assessed him awhile, her granddaughter, stubborn as she was, had considered the man after all. She closed the door when he turned a corner and said, “Hedwig, help me undress. I need to rest on a real bed. The tight corner in that basket was barely… Nevermind, just help me undress.”

Hedwig peeled the cloth from her and put her in even lighter sleeping linens.

“Go and find something to eat. Return in about five hours. We'll start work then,” the Empress-designate ordered.

Hedwig left her to sleep and returned in the time prescribed. Xanarona was already up, looking at herself in the mirror, expressionless. Her eyes switched between their usual colour and the death-black of a Prophet’s.

And she said, still watching herself in the mirror, “Where am I, Aqna?”

Hedwig stole some quiet steps forward and said, “It's Hedwig, dam. You killed Aqna.”