The Starlight Tower and the Imperial Court it jutted out from was no sprawling palace, and could be considered one of the smaller palaces in terms of size, though its spire dwarfed all others in height. While the Empress ruled from this place, she did not reside in it.

Raised during the Decade of the Dozen Consorts, the Starlight Tower was a relic from an era when emperors held but the title, while true power belonged to quarrelsome vassal kings and the feuding lords of the realm. Aelisium had been an island in the Saltless Sea then, and control over it, and the Imperial Court, changed as often as a lady changed clothes. Many tried to rule as the Chancellor of the Imperial Consistory, although mastery over the Empire eluded even the mighty kings of the Everbloom.

In those days, it was not uncommon for an emperor to be sequestered away in pleasure palaces—the Seraglio chief among them—while others attempted to order the Empire’s affairs in their stead.

She parted ways from Tomas upon entering the spacious hall filled with Imperial treasures and imported luxuries, joining the ranks of Prince-Consort Pythos’ retinue in the throne room. The Empress had yet to appear.

“Your Excellency, I’ve arrived,” Mydea said, curtseying towards the tower of a man. In his cold demeanor she saw something ancient and kingly lurking, the blood of his ancestors telling true.

“You’ve grown very close with Prince Jaeson’s valet as of late,” he said instead of greeting her, keeping his eyes on an artist’s stillform depiction of the Six Sages. “Ought I be concerned?”

Denying it would be pointless when he’d seen them arrive together. Does he worry I will commit Kolchis into a faction? she thought. Or is he concerned Kolchis seeks a counterweight against House Eminent Pleonexia?

“While we enjoy each other’s company, we are both conscious of the dangers of entanglement,” Mydea said. Lord Pleonexia’s own sister proved that the perils were all too real, in case any Deeplander had daft ideas of what Aelisium was truly like. “Rest assured, there is nothing between us, and I doubt we will even see much of each other again after Prince Jaeson arrives.”

“Are you certain he feels the same way?” Pythos asked. “After all, he did seek you out of his own volition this morning, and accompanied you all the way here. He does not treat any other lady half as well.”

Ah, a mistake, Mydea thought as she held his gaze. Had Prince-Consort Pythos only said Tomas had beenwith her that morning, not that Tomas had sought her out, she wouldn’t know who had sold her out. Many others had seen them together, but only her maids Troia and Khloe knew Tomas came to her initially.

Ida could have known as well since Tomas had gone to her first, but she was already taking coin from Princess Lille, and the maid did not strike her as bold enough to serve two masters. Troia had been with her since her days at the Thalassian Athenaeum, which only left Khloe, whose loyalties were already suspect to begin with.

Is it a mistake? she asked herself. Perhaps it was a slip of the tongue, but it might also be a pointed message: Pleonexia was watching her, and he did not care that she knew.

“He finds me novel for the moment because I do not pester him about Prince Jaeson. The trick is simple enough to replicate,” Mydea said. “That is all there is to us.”

Pythos was quiet for a moment, considering. “Any other lady would have jumped at the chance to know more of the prince, but you seem bored of him already.”

“I think it is a great waste of time to fawn over a man I do not wish to marry,” she said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“He is still a prince.”

“He is still a prince,” Mydea said, but her tone was not agreement. How many princes and princesses donned the Starlight Crown in the end, and how many died in vain?

“What girl doesn’t dream of being a princess?” Pythos asked.

The smile she gave him was thin and humorless. “Your Excellency, you ought to know I would be a lady-consort, not a princess.”

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“You are unlike your peers,” Pythos said. “Even those that dare not think they’d be chosen still dream of it sometimes, I’m sure.”

“They were not raised the way I was raised.” A mistake could have ended her in the athenaeum, and so the risk of every action had to be weighted against its benefits. “I’m sure you understand, Lord Pleonexia,” she said, purposeful in her address. A wind-tight spell surrounded them. “How many times must we burn before we learn? Some chalices are poisoned.”

As your own sister found out too late, she thought, dropping her spell.

“I am not my brother,” Pythos said. Of the two, Mydea knew it was the Lord Eminent Pleonexia who hated Kolchis more. “You have dealt with me in good faith up until now. I will trust you for a while longer.”

“My thanks,” Mydea said, tipping her head towards him. “While I have your attention, might I ask if you’ve heard word of the raids beginning?”

Pythos nodded. “My brother made mention of it last night. I believe one of your brother’s vassals had made a show of it at my brother’s court.”

Aspyr has gotten better at this, Mydea thought. She could scarcely imagine him making such a move a year ago, even half-done. "I would plead on my brother's behalf too then. I beg you to call upon the Order of the Stone Shield to aid us," Mydea said, turning wide, teary eyes on Pythos. "He has been with me since birth, and it pains me to think he faces such danger alone."

He shifted uncomfortably, no longer quite meeting her eyes. "Surely it would be better for you to appeal to them directly? Your uncle, the Lord External of Yberia, is the knight eminent of that esteemed body if I recall."

"He has not spoken to us for many years now. I can only appeal to you," Mydea said, tears beginning to fall. Not since he married your cousin, she thought. She tried not to begrudge her grandmother's family too much for that.

"I am not my brother," he repeated, sighing softly. It would not be appropriate for a member of the House Imperial to be seen meddling in the affairs of a lord eminent, even if he were kin to one. Wars had been waged over such oversteps before, for the lords guarded their rights with great vigor.

Had the Order of the Stone Shield been called upon by Aspyr at the court of Lord Eminent Pleonexia, such a thing could not be kept quiet. Not that she expected any aid to be forthcoming, but it would strain the web of relations Pleonexia had spun to entrap Kolchis. The Order's mission was to aid the lords external along the Aigean Range against the Tuskar Tribes, and give those errant mages and ambitious youths a chance at glory in the absence of real war.

If her uncle continued to do Lord Pleonexia's bidding by refusing to call for a muster, many would be displeased between the young and hungry that had not even been given the choice to volunteer, and the old who still fondly remembered when Grandfather led the Order.

Either the knight and lord eminent would be at odds if a muster was called for, or the Order would find fault with their leader. Both outcomes suited Mydea just fine.

There was a commotion by the grand marble doors as a herald entered hurriedly. “Presenting, Her Highness Alcymede!” she cried out. “Empress by Star and Storm, Successor to the Divine Syngian, Lady Imperial of Aelisium, Shield of the Syngian Peoples and the Sons of Ilyos, and Patron of the Six Schools.”

Mydea dabbed her eyes with a silk kerchief, adopting a refined expression. She did not know if Pythos had fully bought her act, but that he’d been thrown off-kilter was enough. Future performances would reveal if he had a weakness for crying women or not.

The court bowed as one.

As the Empress strode down the carpeted walkway in velvet indoor shoes, Mydea snuck a close look at Her as She passed and was struck dumb. She’d seen the Empress once before, during the holy night of Ygeia at the High Temple, but that had been from a distance.

Empress Alcymede was draped in the finest silver and golden threads, whose colors somehow paled against her lovely olive complexion. On every finger she wore a jeweled ring worth a small fortune, and even the sides of her gown were lined with precious stones. Her head was a crown of contrasts between the bright, white diadem on her brow and her own luscious, dark locks. Such opulence on any other person would distract from their natural features, but on the Empress, they only seemed to accentuate them.

On an intellectual level, she had always known that the Empress would be a woman of great beauty given her lineage from the House Luxuria, but there was knowing and there was knowing.

“We see that all of my dearest nephew’s suitors are here at last,” the Empress said, glancing about the room until her eyes landed on the daughter of House Twigstone. The poor girl shrunk into herself at the sudden attention, and that alone ought to have killed whatever slim chance she had of marrying upwards in the coming weeks.

“It pleases Us greatly,” the Empress continued, “to see so many fine young ladies here. We hope to become acquainted in the coming days, and that deep bonds of familiarity and friendship will be made between the House Imperial and its subjects.”

A prearranged courtier stepped forward. “This lowly one has a petition. If it pleases Your Highness, may the House Imperial host a masquerade ball in the coming days? While Your subjects hold great affection for Your person, there is always a proper distance observed between superior and subordinates. With one’s identity hidden behind a mask, the members of the House Imperial might come to know the true faces of all present, and find most worthy companions among the assembled lords and ladies.” He bowed his head. “May Your Highness consider carefully.”

The Empress made a show of considering the matter, before nodding. To the surprise of no one, She said, “This pleases Us greatly. Let it be so.”