“We are in my palace! How is this possible?” asked King Ulden.

Briga looked at the king with a raised eyebrow, tilting her head. “Really, Ulden.”

“Ah. Yes, well... Why are we here?”

Briga’s expression changed to one tinged with sadness, as she said, “Queen Margot’s time draws nigh, Ulden. Gereld prayed with her, asking for her family to be with her when she passed.”

“Couldn’t you just… heal her?” He asked, a glimmer of hope in his eye even as a tear formed.

“No, Ulden. I cannot. Know that she is prepared. This is her time, and I am not able to change that. I am sorry.”

The king’s face expressed a variety of emotions, on the verge of saying something. However, his lips pinched closed, and he nodded, bowing his head.

Briga opened the door for him and then closed it after him. She paused in the now empty corridor and sighed. Gathering herself, she then exited through the door she brought the king through, emerging in Censor Marius Vinnicus’ residence.

She tilted her head. Listening, she could hear conversation coming from the centre garden of the villa, and made her way toward it. Upon walking through the door, she saw a table with Marius, Grillo, Shufi, and Thayn sitting around it conversing and drinking wine.

“You are up late tonight, gentlemen,” Briga said.

Grillo gasped and put a hand to his heart, while both Marius and Thayn half rose, reaching to their waists for weapons that weren’t there. Shufi merely inclined his head and raised his cup slightly.

Briga laughed, and then looked at the spy, with a cocked eyebrow.

“Good heavens, someone should put a bell on this girl before she gives me a heart attack!” said Grillo, still clutching his chest and panting, with a haunted look in his eyes.

“Why, Censor Grillo Amillos! Did you just imply that I am a cow?” asked Briga. Although she wore a small, sweet smile on her lips, her eyes flashed with a dangerous glint.

“Ah, well, no. Of course not, Holy Agrippa, I was, um- merely, er-”

“It is well, Grillo. I am teasing,” said Briga, as her eyes softened in line with her smile.

“While I am honoured that you would grace my humble abode with your august presence, Divine Agrippa, may I ask- what brings you here at this hour?” asked Marius.

The tinge of sadness returned to Briga’s eyes. “I came for Thayn,” she said, then turned to the reddy-brown haired prince. “Thayn, your mother needs you.”

Thayn’s smile faded as his brow furrowed with concern. He placed his wine cup down and stood, swaying on unsteady feet.

Briga sighed, and placed her hands, one over Thayn’s chest, one over his head. Her hands began glowing, and Thayn’s eyes widened, as he stood more upright and gasped in surprise.

Thayn said, “A waste of good wine, but I do appreciate it. Thank you.”

“You are welcome Thayn. Shall we go?” asked Briga.

“Yes, I believe so. Gentlemen. Marius, thank you for your hospitality.”

Grillo inclined his head politely and raised his cup.

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Marius said, “Ne domo, i tai domo. I hope your mother is all right.”

Thayn gave the man a wan smile and said, “I appreciate the sentiment, but I think ‘all right’ is out of the question. It’s fine. I have been expecting this for a while now.”

Briga then turned to Shufi, and asked, “Did you wish to come with us, Shufi?”

“Ah, thank you oh glorious goddess, but I have some things I need to attend to here before I make my way Home. With a king in mourning, I fear I must ensure-”

“I understand, Shufi,” Briga interjected. She gave a bemused smile at his honorifics.

She then inclined her head to the three men seated around the table, and said to Thayn, “Shall we?”, before leading him through Marius’ villa door.

The pair emerged into a long, dimly lit corridor.

As they moved toward the opposite end, Thayn whispered, “This is not Bostbogen Palace.”

“We are in Fludavera. And why are you whispering? We are not here to rob the place,” replied Briga.

In the silence, a loud challenge rang out. “HALT! WHO GOES THERE?”

Briga dropped the restraint on her presence. The two guards’ eyes widened, and they bowed their heads, kneeling before her.

She blushed, and said, “Men, please, rise. I merely wanted to save arguments. I apologise. Please, don’t-”

“You do realise, they kneel before jarls. You are a goddess.”

“It makes me uncomfortable. I have never had this much contact with humans before,” said Briga, with a slight grimace.

“What is going on out here?” Viggin’s voice inquired, coming from behind the door at the end of the corridor.

The door opened, and Viggin came into the corridor, wrapping a dressing gown about himself with one hand while his other held a lit candle. He looked at Briga, and his eyebrows shot up.

“Holy goddess. To what do I owe this honour?” asked Viggin, before his eyes fell upon his younger brother. He then turned to Thayn, asking, “What in the world are you wearing, brother?” as he began laughing.

“Conventions, brother. Doing my part to foster good diplomatic relations,” responded Thayn with a wry look.

“Viggin, I need you to come with us,” said Briga.

“Ah,” said Viggin simply, the sadness in his eyes showing his understanding. “Do I have time to dress?”

Briga answered, “As long as you don’t take too long.”

“On second thought, let us just go. We still have clothes at the royal palace. Thank you, divine one. I couldn’t even hope to begin repaying this miracle you are providing us,” said Viggin, as he blew out the candle and passed it to a guard.

Briga turned to Thayn, and said archly, “Viggin is such a nice boy. Are you taking notes, Thayn? ”

Thayn rolled his eyes in response, which elicited a quick look of annoyance from the goddess.

“All right gentlemen, follow me.” Briga beckoned to them, as she walked toward Viggin’s bedroom door.

Once they had walked through the door, they found themselves in an empty office for a palace functionary. Emerging from the room, Viggin approached a guard and cleared his throat.

The guard flinched, and spun around brandishing his two-handed axe, before saying, “Your Grace? Where did you- How did you-”

“Good instincts, man. I cannot explain my arrival, but would you be so kind as to lead us to the Queen?” asked Viggin.

“Before we do that. Gentlemen, I have one more person to collect, but I fear he may create tension,” said Briga, tentatively.

“What do you mean? Who do you need to collect?” asked Thayn.

“This is what was asked of me by your mother. She prayed for all her children to be present. I need you two to convince your father. I need amnesty for Harolf. Think of it as your last gift to your mother. Ulden’s last gift to his queen.”

Both men sharply inhaled, glancing at each other with dubious expressions.

It was Viggin who spoke first, saying, “Forgive my saying, but miracles are more your department, goddess. Are they not?”

“Very funny, Viggin. Seriously, I need a guarantee for your brother’s safety. I realise it is a lot to ask, especially of you, but I must ask it, anyway.”

Viggin touched his bottom lip with his index finger and looked up as he pondered, “So this would mean that you would be indebted to me, wouldn’t it?”

“Do not push your luck, Viggin. I was hoping not to pull rank here, but…” Briga left that hanging.

Viggin gave her a small smile. “I’m teasing. Be at ease, I’ll try to convince him. I won’t lie and say I am enthusiastic about it, but I can try to set aside my feelings for Mother.”

“Thayn? Anything to add?” asked Briga.

“No. I can put my animus aside for the sake of my mother’s dying wish. After that…” Thayn raised his eyebrows , and spread his hands.

“Very well. I shall return in one hour.” Briga glanced at the two brothers, turned, and left through the door they had arrived in, emerging in a dark tavern taproom in Smerelyipo.

Briga moved on silent feet through the sleeping patrons, who paid for a spot on the inn floor. Finding the foot of the stairs, she moved to the second floor. She walked along the corridor and found the door she sought. The door was locked, but this was no obstacle for her.

She opened the door and came face to face with the fragrant corpse of Scipio Calguri. Instinctively, Briga unleashed her full, godly aura.