Snow stared dimly at the notes on her desk, Adjusting her reading spectacles and pushing the string of beads that hung from the gold frames edges away in annoyance.

‘Two shops, roughly three thousand Vennam annually’ she stared at the king's expropriation seal, the thought ringing in her head, the wax seal was a revolting speckled blackbird blue colour, it wasn't fair! She ground her fists into her eyes and slumped back into her wheelchair.

The secret police had raided both of her shops, searched the place, ransacked all the financial documents, even threatened the staff.

And then to top it all off! claimed it by decree of the king, the brass hinges of her wheelchair hummed in protest of her quiet tantrum.

She stopped, opening her hands to the little half moon dimples in her palms, ‘no, it's definitely not right,’ she sighed, closing the letter, ‘not tonight,’ she thought, placing the letter and the rest of the documents in their respective drawers. She half contemplated ringing for Ilya, if only to mope and have him fetch her something sweet. but it was late and he'd taken the whole ordeal far worse than she had already.

‘What time even is it?’ she thought turning her wheelchair to look at the clock on the wall, ‘two in the morning, well not much sleeping now I suppose’ she wheeled herself to the window, the metal wheels made the floorboards creak loudly against the still, candle choked air of her bedroom, she winced slightly at the sound. Unlatching the window with some difficulty, she huffed and half fell back into her chair, relieved if a bit winded. Breathing in slowly as the night air swelled into the room.

“You'll get a cold mistress, let me get you a blanket” the sleepy voice of Ilya said, walking into the room. He beelined for the bed closet and began pulling out a large feather duvet, Snow turned the wheelchair around guiltily and smiled.

“Sorry Ilya, I really didn't mean to wake you” Snow said “you should go back to bed”, Ilya smiled and shook his head.

“nonsense” he padded forward, stifling a yawn and unfurling the duvet, he turned the chair, wrapping the soft feather stuffed fabric around her waist and taking off the spectacles that dangled from her neck, “do you want anything to drink? something to nibble on maybe?”.

“Something… Sweet?” Snow said tentatively, adjusting the duvet a bit, ‘no point trying to convince him otherwise’ she thought.

“Of course mistress” Ilya placed the spectacles on to her bedside dresser, “would you like that book you were reading too?”

“Yes please” she said, craning her neck around the chair as he left. ‘I’ll have to give him some extra days off, sometime’ she thought, chastising herself, ‘and be more firm with it, insist next time’ she stared out of the window, thinking.

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images of the kings seal flashed through her head, ‘the secret police, the kings lapdogs’ chatter of her employees, hushed whispered details on government, ‘the king might not have any Idea this had been ordered’ if the king hadn’t ordered the shops seized directly, maybe she could bring it to his attention.’beg an audience and ask for compensation at the very least’ She had never spent much time paying attention to politics though.

She imagined a star falling, tendrils of effervescent vapour wrapping into itself as it fell, dome capped contrails like a jellyfish. It twisted slowly in her mind and exploded. she'd not want her business being accosted by the secret police any longer.

Though her mother and father had taken her to court when she was young, and she remembered the ladies in their thin fancy ornately patterned dresses, those men in their strangely globular ceremonial armour, a child’s place in court isn’t an educational one, she remembered being petted, plied with sweetmeats, dressed up in strange pastel children sized variations of adult attire.

She was sure she could recall how things were supposed to go. ‘Proper etiquette is,’ her thoughts weren’t at all coherent at the late hour‘ “If you hold the knife like a dagger then brace yourself for social solitude.” ‘ her tutors' half remembered echoes weren’t a comfortable memory either. Outside the window a shadow shape warped under the eaves of a tree, perhaps she'd be able to brush up on etiquette, on the way there…

“Hmm” she intoned, decision made.

“Hmm?” Ilya, said, a plate of flakey layered honey and cashew pastries cut into slanted squares hovered near her nose. She took one and nibbled on it.

“I'm going away Ilya, pack my things in the morning” she said. the mild nutty honey coating her mouth pleasantly. “Oh my, this is lovely”

“Away where?” He sounded mildly surprised, the plate wobbling slightly.

“Oh don't worry about that, I want you, to take a vacation” she said, finishing the pastry and reaching for another.

“I think it'd be best if I came with you, mistress” Ilya said, rather stiffly.

‘Always stiffens up when I mention days off’ Snow thought. “no. I insist, and I mean it this time”

“Are you sur-” he began “yes! Ilya, darling. I think you should take a few days off” Snow said.

“I must protest, if you are going away who will attend to you” Ilya began to say, the plate wobbling dangerously, Snow didn't answer staring at the window then turning to stare at him, chewing slowly, and swallowing.

“Very well, what clothes should I pack for you?” Ilya said defeated, lowering the plate onto her lap, and peering out the window suspiciously.

“Something that would be suitable for… court” Snow said eyeing Ilya, he stared at her dumbly,

“Court?” He repeated, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, that the week's trip across the ocean from Khisset was a hard trip for any ‘able bodied man’ four days by boat and another three trekking inland to the Capitol was a horrific undertaking for someone who didn’t have the aid of their legs.

“Court.” Snow said. popping another pastry into her mouth with a ridiculous sense of satisfaction. “Would you like one?” she asked, offering the plate.