In the morning, Maggie packed up her satchel and made her way to the tunneler. It was a narrow cylinder, a train of sorts that traveled downwards into the planet instead of horizontally. Passing her payment disc to the ticketer, she sat cross-legged on the floor and observed those around her.

The Adahovians heading deeper into the planet were dressed better than those on the surface. People got off at each stop, until she was left alone with a male Adahovian who had dutifully kept his head buried in a book since the beginning of the journey.

He was dressed better than the others in the tunneler. From the distance that the other passengers kept from him, Maggie assumed he possessed either fame or infamy. The tunneler came to a rest with a jerk, and the ticketer announced that it was the last stop.

Stepping outside of the tunneler, Maggie was greeted by an unexpected amount of light. The whole cavern was bathed in lavender. Although, she wasn’t sure a space so large could even be called a cavern. The word seemed too small for something so imposing. The source of the light was too far for her human eyes to see. She knew she was inside something, miles below the void of space, but the lavender looked like a setting sky. And in front of her was lay the capital city.

The man stepped off the tunneler behind her. Unlike her, he was expected to arrive. A small carriage drawn by a two-legged creature waited for him. The creature was like an ostrich with horns and scales, and the driver was a flighty creature who bowed more than necessary. Her fellow passenger ignored the excessive respect and stepped into the carriage, still reading his book.

Her own journey to the royal palace took longer. The whole place was designed for the affluent and their servants. No easy transportation, no roadside food stalls, and no friendly merchants willing to offer her directions.

Buildings of white stood tall on either side of immaculate streets. Busy bureaucrats hurried to their destinations. She was the one slow-moving object among determined beings. One thing about being in a city with walls was that she could never truly get lost. The city was large, but it was finite. There was no way she could miss something like the castle if she walked for long enough. So she did.

She walked past the carefully gridded streets filled with the same white buildings. She saw carriages loaded with justices in their white robes and pages in silver. The whole city seemed to emphasize a desire for purity, for a lack of character, for a timelessness. They succeeded. She could not tell if the city was ancient or newly constructed. The bare, undecorated buildings spoke of early architecture, but their pristine condition suggested otherwise.

Finally, she came upon a white fortress, taller than everything else around. It was not the palace she imagined when Don spoke of the princess. It looked like a mental asylum than a seat of power, meant to keep things in rather than to protect them.

The guards at the doors checked her identification before opening the massive metal doors. Inside, it was dark and cold. Finally, she felt like she was at the center of a planet. The cold chilled her to the bone, and within minutes she was shivering.

“Who are you?” a voice asked. The sound was not the smoothened translation of her communication implant. The person spoke English, and spoke it well.

“I heard that the princess required a guide. Someone to show her around Earth,” Maggie answered.

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“The princess requires no such thing,” the voice retorted, sharp. “Where did you receive this false information?”

It was one time she did not mind using Don’s name. “A human named Don. He claimed that he traveled to Earth with the princess earlier, and that she would return.”

Maggie waited for a response. The darkness was slowly getting to her. She didn’t like not knowing her surroundings. She could be surrounded by traps, by machines set to fire at her one misstep, and all she could do was stand in the same place like an idiot. She didn’t even have the courage to walk forward towards the voice.

After a while, an outlined arc of light appeared as a set of double doors were opened. Maggie shielded her eyes against the sudden brightness.

“The princess cannot wait for you all day,” the voice said. He was an outline against the light, tall and thin, dressed in a coat that extended below his knees.

Maggie stumbled ahead, ignoring her adjusting pupils and the man’s contemptuous tone. She followed him. He walked with purpose, one pair of arms clasped in front of himself, and another pair dug firmly into the pockets of his coat. The posture conveyed both his formality and his frustration with her presence.

After a few minutes, she realized it was the man from the tunneler. They took a winding corridor to a higher floor. It was narrow enough that she could touch the walls on either side. The stairs were so cold she felt them through the soles of her shoes. It only got colder as they got closer to their destination. At the end of the corridor, the man pushed aside a curtain of some diaphanous material.

It was a light, airy tower. A normal human would have questioned how anything could be light or airy when they were miles underground, but Maggie had stopped questioning such things years before. The room, as it was, reminded her of her grandmother’s sunroom. The furniture was all pastel-colored, and the walls were painted with strange, lavender flowers on a white background. A woman lay on a daybed in front of them. She did not rise as they entered, but only turned to face them, her head resting on her palm.

“This is the girl?” the woman asked. “She seems young.”

“She looks poor,” the man said.

Maggie wondered if politeness wasn’t part of the Adahovian life. She was standing right in front of them. Then again, she could just ask for more money to tolerate their lack of etiquette.

“You’re the one Don spoke of?” the princess asked.

“Yes,” Maggie answered. She did not bother to add on any titles or terms of respect. She was a princess to some, but not to Maggie.

“When will you be ready to travel?” the woman asked.

She had expected questions. Bargaining and negotiating. Maggie supposed those with a planet’s worth of wealth did not waste on time on bargaining with the likes of her.

“Tomorrow. I only need to grab my possessions from my lodging,” she answered.

“We’ll have Tharan bring your things. We can set off in a few hours,” the princess said. “No need to waste time for these kind of technicalities. Tyaran, you can go now. Which inn was it you’re staying at?”

“Uh–”

“It’s no matter. I’m sure he can figure it out,” the princess said, waving off the man.

“Your highness?”

“Yes, and be ready with your things as well. We shall leave after supper.”

Maggie was glad that her things were neatly packed into her bag in the room. She didn’t want the condescending man to have to pack for her. She could imagine him, rifling through her room, judging her clothing and toiletries.

Once the man was gone, the princess turned again to lie on the daybed flat on her back.

“I dislike it when Tharan judges people before me. I should be the one to decide a person’s value, not him. And you’re valuable to me, for now.”

“Good to know,” Maggie answered.

“It’s a valuable thing, to be valued by the royal family.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”