Narcissa made her way through the palace halls, glad to be out of her armor. The black shell that she wore into battle protected her. But she preferred the black leather outfit Zigildrazia would have her wear. Having her legs, arms, and stomach covered was something she'd gotten used to, but she didn't enjoy it. And she didn't look nearly as good without cleavage.

Looking good was necessary, even if Sahshir didn't fully understand why. It wasn't that he was repressed, just... different. Sahshir didn't treat life like Narcissa did; she'd learned to accept it.

At last, she came to the library.

It had only recently been founded, with books from elsewhere to fill it. Many ancient tales and stories were being compiled across the land and brought in. Sahshir had decided that he wanted the culture and wisdom of East Kalthak recorded. You had a ceiling carefully designed to keep out the rain. There were three different book shelves imported from Dinis. A gift from King Nagos of Chaminus, alongside some of the books. Others had been taken as plunder.

Within, she found the masked king sitting at a table. The librarians had been dismissed, and he was reading a scroll. His eyes were scanning over the writing. They stood out all the more, given the plagued flesh around them.

"What are you doing, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa, brushing a strand of her blonde hair from her face. She wished Sahshir would notice more than who she was as a person. Not being judged for your body was a weird experience even now. "You've been locked in here for three hours."

"Reading," said Sahshir.

Narcissa sat down, surprised he had no harsh statement on virtue. "Reading what?"

Sahshir set the paper down. "It's a list I had Alkela draw up, though I'm uncertain why. A list of Princesses of marriageable age?"

"What do you need that for?" asked Narcissa before she could stop herself.

Sahshir set down the paper and shifted the Sword of Order in his iron hand. The blade gleamed, and the light reflected off his hand. "...My valor in Zigilus proved my worth as a warrior. And my triumph in wars against Sorn has proven me an able leader. My focus has been wholly on ensuring the proper operation of this Kingdom. I believe I have succeeded.

"Tensions are low, empty lands are being filled, and the people are in good spirits.

"In such a time of peace, aside from maintaining it, I must ensure the succession. So I requested your sister look into the matter for me since the people of Zigilus keep such good records."

"Um, Sahshir-" began Narcissa. No one would ever want to marry him with his disease and-

"I know," said Sahshir.

"Ah, right," said Narcissa.

"I don't know why I did it," mused Sahshir. "I have been so focused on performing all that I must have forgotten myself. I had forgotten the disease that was killing me.

"And so I fail."

"...It might be possible to find a cure, Sahshir," said Narcissa, trying to bring in some hope.

"How?" asked Sahshir. "Laevian put this curse on me, and the God of Healing is her ally. Elranor is the archenemy of my people."

"So what are you going to do?" asked Narcissa.

"I can't do anything," said Sahshir. "My uncle, Asim, will inherit the throne after me. Then he'll immediately roll back everything I've done. There will be a civil war, and eventually, Sushaki will pick up the pieces. Or, Western Kalthak will intercede and be granted the rule of this land.

"They always have had closer ties to Ruscow, and if this land falls into chaos, order must be restored."

"I'm surprised you aren't talking to Kushina about this," noted Narcissa.

"She and the priests of Baltoth are preaching his will, as you no doubt know," said Sahshir. "It takes a great deal of her time."

And then the door opened, and Alkela entered. Narcissa's twin looked good in her new outfit of red leather, though it didn't show enough skin for her liking. She wore her mace at one side, and her hair was long, contrasting with Narcissa's ponytail.

"Alkela, what is it?" asked Sahshir.

Alkela raised a hand and made the sign language Nayasha had been teaching her. Sahshir scanned it before he looked at Narcissa. "...They're here."

"The delegation from Eastern Kalthak?" asked Narcissa.

"Yes," said Sahshir. "You will stand at my left side, Asim at my right."

And he stood as if to walk out. Narcissa felt a sensation of panic. Sahshir never looked good, so much as threatening. But he needed to make some preparations for this. "Sahshir, what about your silver hand?"

Sahshir halted and looked up. "Is it necessary?"

"It's part of your appearance, and your appearance is what you show the world," said Narcissa. "You have to demonstrate yourself as grand. It would help if you also got your armor on. You'll never look benevolent and wise, but you can look terrifying."

"I show myself through actions," said Sahshir.

"Humor me, please," said Narcissa.

"Very well, help me with it," said Sahshir. "Quickly, however, we must be ready to receive them."

And so Sahshir began to don his armor and silver hand. The armor was worn by Samurai, black colored with a mask resembling a tiger. As he fitted on a silver hand in place of the iron one, Narcissa eyed him in concern. "So, King Belosh, do you respect him?"

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"He is a powerful King and could be a formidable enemy," said Sahshir.

"But do you respect him?" asked Narcissa.

"Not at the moment," said Sahshir. "Just before my father abandoned me, he attempted to cede my land to King Belosh. Naturally, Asim was not about to let our homeland become vassals of those conceited fools.

"There was a war, and Baltoth declared me the rightful king, thus why Asim tried to kill me. Belosh, in contrast, offered to remove Asim to shore up my rule. So, I refused and went to kill Tuor instead.

"Even so, I am willing to consider him worthy of respect after I meet him. Whatever the event, I mean to remain courteous.

"We must first watch from the balcony. Preparations have already been made for their procession."

The balcony was at the front of the palace and overlooked the entire city of Khasina. Asim was already there, clad in black armor with a sword read. Khasina now fully deserved the city title, having grown a great deal in the past few years. New buildings had been erected with excellent structural integrity. The main road was now paved, and statues had been erected of Baltoth and his children.

And now, the gate opened.

In through the gates came a vast number of samurai. They marched forward with enormous numbers of spears held together with great discipline. Crowds lined the streets and observed them. With them came many dancing girls in scanty clothing and flowing garb. They were dancing and swaying. Behind them were elephants decorated with the most magnificent of harnesses. There were jewels and gold upon them.

And upon them was King Belosh, alongside his family. Gold and jewels were tossed to the crowd freely as cheers resounded. And around the elephants were entertainers of all kinds. They were juggling flaming sticks, devouring swords, and creating brilliant lights.

Narcissa had never seen anything so grand.

And yet she also felt a sense of resentment. Sahshir and her hadn't had nearly so grand a reception when they returned from war. Then again, Sahshir had never organized a parade of any kind. He'd walked back into the city without so much as a single trumpet sounded and returned to work.

He really was no fun, actually. Most of his lords had wanted to hold celebrations. But Sahshir only had a celebration if it was religiously obligated. And when he had one, he used the bare minimum amount of resources. The rest went to help people experiencing poverty or building improvements.

"Look at that parade!" said Narcissa to make conversation. "Have you ever seen so much silk?"

"Have you ever seen so many harlots?" said Sahshir, clad in his usual black armor.

"They're not harlots, Sahshir," said Narcissa, faintly offended. "They're entertainers."

"Believe what you will," scoffed Sahshir.

By now, Belosh's non-samurai troops were marching behind him. They marched a token force, with spears held aloft and in perfect unison. Aresif came up from behind in the entourage, and Sahshir looked at him. The old man looked far healthier than when they'd liberated him from slavery. His white beard was cut short to a mustache. "They go clad in fine silk with gleaming blades, but any may do as much. The question is their own nature, as well as ours."

"Aresif, you will keep such comments to yourself," said Sahshir. "Uncle, await me in the throne room. I am relying on you should there be any treachery."

"As you wish, nephew," said Asim, turning to leave. Aresif took his place.

Sahshir had been planning something for the throne room for nearly a week. All materials had been going in and out and setting up braziers. Much work had gone into figuring out the exact locations of the windows and how the light entered.

Whatever it was, Narcissa doubted it wouldn't be outshone by this parade. Looking back, she noticed something odd. Four people walked out of the formation at the rear of the group. The first was an orange-haired man of great size with ram horns. On his back was a huge sword. Directly behind him was a monk, clad in white robes with a long staff, crooked on end. Then there was an even bigger man with curly brown hair, walking bare-chested. He wore two spiked gauntlets.

And last of all was a majestically beautiful girl, her long, auburn hair flowing around her. She looked Harlenorian, and she wore very little. She wore a brassiere over her ample bosom and a split skirt that bared her thighs. Around her waist was a golden belt, and Narcissa was impressed. You didn't usually see someone as beautiful as someone from Zigilus. Not without Zigildrazia's blessing.

"Who are they?" asked Sahshir.

"His name is Isamu, King Sahshir," said Aresif. "Apparently, a samurai of well-documented pride and power. He was born of Rammas before his rebellion."

"So he is the spawn of a traitor, then. Well, we shall see if he takes after him," said Sahshir. "Why would King Belosh have him in his company?"

"Isamu is said to be an unsurpassed warrior," said Aresif. "None may stand against him to live. To pierce, his heart is but to know his wrath. He has a group of warrior companions who are powerful indeed, among them a daughter of Belosh."

"We will judge the matter as we see fit," said Sahshir. Then he raised his hand. "Nayasha report."

Nayasha was here? Narcissa looked back and saw the violet-haired elf emerging from the shadows. A blade was by her side. "...I am impressed, Sahshir. I had not revealed myself to you."

"Report," said Sahshir.

"Tuor was with them when they arrived," said Nayasha. "However, he broke off from the main column on his usual business. My Master loathes celebrations; he believes they are a waste of resources."

"Nothing that inspires joy is a waste," said Sahshir.

"...That is an unusually poetic flourish, my King," said Sahshir.

"No, merely the truth," said Sahshir.

"That seems hypocritical," said Narcissa. "You've canceled most celebrations."

"Joy comes only from pursuing a virtuous life," said Sahshir. "And so all things that inspire it come from virtue. The wicked seek it but find only hedonistic mockeries that consume them. Also, they could have been a better use of money.

"Let us head to the throne room. Kushina has broken off from the lead now anyway."

Oh, right, Kushina was down there; Narcissa had hardly noticed the dark-haired priestess. As Sahshir marched through the halls, Narcissa considered what to say. She looked to Alkela, who seemed to guess her mind. "They seem to have shown us up, don't you think?" asked Narcissa.

"What do you mean?" asked Sahshir.

"Well, their party mounted a truly impressive display," said Narcissa. "Those were an elephant. It will be the talk of the city for years to come."

"And of what relevance is that?" asked Sahshir. "They have made an impressive display. They shall be known only as pretenders if their virtues cannot match it. If they can, then it is no business of mine to envy them."

Entering the throne room, Narcissa noticed the lights were gone. Only the windows provided any light. The throne was on a raised platform with stairs leading up to it. On either side were braziers of coals with oil poured over it.

Sahshir seated upon the throne as Narcissa walked beside him. Asim took the other side. "You are all to hold your tongue; I expect I will soon be insulted."

"What do you mean?" asked Narcissa.

"Tradition dictates that when Kings of Kalthak meet, a marriage bond is made," said Sahshir. "I have no children or sisters, and moreover, I am unmarried. As such, King Belosh ought to be offering me a wife."

"Do you think he will?" asked Narcissa.

"I doubt it," said Sahshir. "He's far more likely to want to marry his daughter into Asim's line. Which is why Sushaki has been sent to the opposite side of the country.

"Is all prepared, Asim?"

"Yes," said Asim. "The braziers have been made as requested."

"Good, stand by to light them when I signal," said Sahshir.

Then the windows shut, and they were left in darkness. Narcissa could hear footfalls shuffling into place. Sahshir's Silent Guard was preparing in the darkness. "Are we meeting them in the dark?" asked Narcissa.

"No, merely an alternative variety of light," said Sahshir. "Quiet now; they are entering."

Before Narcissa could ask about that, the double doors opened. Into the room came King Belosh, alongside his guards. The King of Western Kalthak was a tall, dignified man whose hair was tied up in a topknot. His beard was long and black, and he wore flowing robes. Alongside him were many men, including Isamu and his people.

"What's with the dark?" asked Isamu. "Did someone put out the torches?"

"Stand ready, Isamu; this may be a trap," said the monk, not quite low enough. "Stay behind me, Oresa."

The auburn-haired girl stepped behind the monk. "Isamu..."

"What is the meaning of this?" asked King Belosh aloud.

Sahshir slammed the Sword of Order against the floor. Even through the sheath, it made a loud sound. As he did, the braziers flared to life and illuminated Sahshir. As this happened, the doors shut, and the King of Eastern Kalthak rose up. The Silent Guard of King Sahshir was all around them. They stood with terrible discipline, and Belosh's men went for their weapons.

What was Sahshir going to do if violence broke out?

"King Belosh, I bid you welcome to my home," said Sahshir. Then, he arose from the throne and stood before King Belosh.

"King Sahshir, I assume," said Belosh. "You have an odd way of showing hospitality."

"Mere theatricality, I assure you," said Sahshir. "One must use such tactics, sometimes, if our people are to be seen as equals." Then he motioned, and the windows were opened, and the light returned.

"...How did you do that anyway?" asked Isamu. "With the braziers?"

"He might deal with flame spirits," said the huge, dark-skinned man.

"But, Cadus, I don't sense any spirits around us," said Oresa, "there should have been a presence here. There was... nothing."

"Knowledge is power, and I have learned much," said Sahshir. "Still, perhaps we should retire to a more hospitable environment?"

"That seems wise to me," said Belosh.

"Your daughter is, of course, welcome to accompany us," said Sahshir. From there, he looked to Oresa.

"The invitation is much appreciated," said Belosh. "However, Oresa has rarely had much interest in policy and is technically one of my guards."

"I understand," said Sahshir, controlling the edge of his town. "Then let us speak in the gardens."

"How do we know this isn't some kind of trap?" asked Isamu.

Sahshir looked to Isamu, insulted. "...If I had intended to trap you, surely I would have done so a moment ago? Asim, draw back your guards; we must ensure our guests are comfortable."

This was going to be one tense negotiation.