Like Tomas predicted, cloud docked upon cloud at the Golden Gateway. They entered Aelisium without any trouble, and the gatekeepers did not even dare to bar their way with Lady Lara leading them. Mydea stayed a whole step behind her the whole time until they reached a waiting horseless carriage.

Mydea stepped inside first, then Lara and Troia, but Tomas did not.

“There’s more than enough room for you to join us,” Lara said.

“I thank you for the offer, Lady Lara, but I think I shall find my own way back to the palace,” Tomas said, bowing.

“Suit yourself,” Lara said as she closed the door. That seemed to be a signal to the coachman, for the carriage lurched forward. The gate they had arrived at and the route it took to the palace were different from the last time Mydea was here.

“Will he be alright by himself?” Mydea asked. Tomas was a strawborn after all, and did not have the right to wear a sword. He might have a knife hidden somewhere on his person, and he always had his magic to draw on, but she did not like anyone’s odds in a fight with just those at hand.

“He would not be a prince’s valet if he did not know how to handle himself,” Lara said, looking out the window at Snowscorn, who followed alongside them.

“Are you a hippologist?” Mydea asked politely. “I have seen you studying Snowscorn.”

Lara shook her head. “I wouldn’t dare claim such a title before yourself. At best, I am an enthusiast who can appreciate a beautifully bred pegasus.”

“She can achieve flight in three strokes,” Mydea said proudly. “There are few places that raise better pegasi than Kolchis.”

“I consider it the greatest shame that my home was never their natural habitat,” Lara said.

“Well, we are expecting Snowscorn to foal in as soon as seven months,” Mydea said. “I shall have to excuse myself from court then and see that her foal is settled properly on the Aigean Range. Perhaps you would like to join me for that? It is quite the experience.”

“Would that be alright?” Lara asked.

“So long as the Empress approves. We are present at Her pleasure,” Mydea said.

“So long as She approves,” Lara agreed with a nod. With any luck, Lady Lara would broach the topic with the Empress and secure approval on her behalf. Mydea could ask herself, but with the Empress so busy, there was no telling when a request from her might be heard. The seeds of her eventual escape had been planted, and only time would tell if they could be reaped.

“If you do happen to come along,” Mydea continued, “I can show you the family flock. Our recent yearlings are coming along nicely in their training.”

She had no inkling of how close Lara was to Lady Eminent Alexa, but they could hardly be estranged if Lara had risen this highly in the Empress’ court. A kind word from her about Kolchis might shift some of the pegasus trade from Lord External Aeria to themselves. Perhaps I shall gift one of our better horses to her? Mydea thought. It would give Kolchis the greater opportunity to show off their brood, especially if Lara was fond of racing.

Mydea glanced at Troia, who was ogling the streetview. The street they were on was one of spellweavers and seamstresses and all the latest fashions of the capital. Lace seemed in season for hats and handwear, but it was harder to tell for the dresses which were split between linen, satin, and velvet. Silk from across the sea was always popular for those with greater means, and she even spotted a dress being made from stormsilk of all things! It would have raised brows back at home, but anyone who could afford such a dress could afford some scandal. It would be a good outfit to fight in though, with the fabric enhancing one’s affinity for wind, and weather in particular.

“It doesn’t quite compare to Pleonexus or Grandgrove, I’m afraid,” Lara said. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the former?”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Mydea said, a bitter taste lingering in her tongue.

“Ah, I’ve put you in a mood,” Lara said. “I apologize.”

Mydea kept her eyes on the bustling city outside. “Kolchis is not what it once was. We’re beneath the attention of the Imperial Court.” It pained her to say those words to another, but it was the truth. Father always told them they might lie to others, but never to themselves.

“Surely that cannot be true. You are here now, are you not?” Lara asked.

“You are most kind, Lady Lara,” Mydea said. “Might I trouble you with another question?”

“To be troubled is my profession. Ask what you will,” Lara said.

“I’ve never been very good with directions, and I fear I shall lose myself if I wander into the city,” Mydea said. “Have you any advice for me?”

“You shouldn’t worry too much about that. The Starlight Tower above the Imperial Court is visible from anywhere,” Lara said, pointing it out. “There’s also the Imperial Athenaeum directly opposite it, and next to that is the High Temple on the Street of Smoke.”

Mydea nodded. She and Aspyr had entered near the Imperial Athenaeum last time, and she remembered how it smelled of sacrifice when the wind shifted. “And that is the Archive,” she said, pointing between the High Temple and the Starlight Tower where a wide structure was topped with a great glass dome.

“That’s right,” Lara said, her finger shifting to a menacing fortress of stone and spikes. “On the other side of the Imperial Athenaeum is Stormfall Tower, and next to it brings us to our destination: the Seraglio.”

The carriage came to a halt before gates golden and gleaming, with marble verandas and lifelike sculptures and gardens in bloom across the grounds. From a distance, the Imperial Palace was imposing to behold, but only within its confines did Mydea come to appreciate the sheer size of that sprawling labyrinth. There must have been at least a dozen palaces by her count, but the largest and grandest two were the Starlight Tower and the Seraglio.

A pair of knights in bright white in white stood at attention as they stepped out of the carriage. Mydea spotted scores of slender, plump, and stout women about the same age as her lounging about. One played with a black-and-white border collie.

Marriage candidates, Mydea concluded.

Many of them came from houses lowly and unknown, but she recognized a few by their sigils. The three women making shapes out of the fountain’s sparkling purple liquid in midair bore markings from the Bloodbolt, the thorned bush of Thorne, and the turtle of House Shells. All three were principal vassals to the House Eminent Eyr, Prince Jaeson’s paternal lineage. No doubt one of them would be his chosen bride and unite the region behind his claim.

The rest of them were just for show.

Mydea breathed, and caught a whiff of fruity alcohol lingering in the air. “Is that fountain spewing wine?”

"Only partially wine," Lara said. "Gives it that nice sparkle when the sun is out and makes it harder for people to get drunk midday. Your room is this way.”

The brief walk was a whirlwind of stained glass, carpeted walkways, marble columns both decorative and structural; tapestries, mural, and paintings were everywhere too, from the ancient stillform or more modern styles that allowed for movement and even music. Servants bowed to Lara wherever they went and there were ladies in a dozen styles and shades of dress—though none were as lovely as a Luxuria.

Finally, Lara stopped before a door without a knob. “Have you ever used one of these before?” she asked.

“I’m familiar with the concept,” Mydea said, as she placed her hand against the door and pushed in lightly. “Students didn’t have these in the Thalassian Athenaeum.” Magic flowed out of the tips of her fingers, still slower than she liked, and the sides of the doors glowed thrice as the out-of-sight runes committed the feel of her to memory. The door swung open and they entered her room.