Elinor gazed down at the massive entrance hall to the palace; she was on the second story of the East Wing. It was quite a sight from this high up. The Yaltha’ma were scurrying below, El’Ra’Ca, and his sister, El’Co’Ca, had taken control of the clean-up after Gwen had gone to sleep.

The pair had seemingly mended years of bitter resentment, but there were lingering allegiances. The Hidden Ones numbered two-hundred and sixty-three, while the main sect of her brother was much larger at two-thousand three-hundred and eleven, and each faction reported to the leader they thought deserved the title. It was acceptable for now; Tiffany had told her that it would take time to break down the tribal barriers, which made sense.

They whispered praises to her name and glanced up to bow at her from time to time as she watched the progress of their work, barely visible between the huge wooden bars of the second floor. She could slip right through the opening if she turned on her side, but the top of the Blackwood rail guard was far over her head.

It was like she was a child again, looking up at a world designed for adults much taller than herself, which was a bit annoying, but she had time to make changes. The important part right now was cleaning her home and making sure it was well defended.

Edmon had been hard at work, taking temporary measures to patch-up the city and get everything working properly. He’d taken command of Violet, Quin, eight of her seventeen skeletal Quen’Talrat, all four of the Thélméthra drones that The Hidden Ones had pointed her toward, and a few dozen Yaltha’ma.

He’d used them in various ways to get the front gates unrusted and broken, allowing them a functional entrance after finding the warehouse where Ke’Thra’Ma had stored spare mechanical parts in some part of this massive city.

The anticipation bounced within her, unrestrained by Emotional Loss, and giving her a mixed vibe between being a fairytale queen and an explorer. It gave her flashbacks of watching Stargate Atlantis with her parents. A monolithic city filled with secrets, and she ruled over it all and not just that, but an entire world to discover.

Her ghostly green irises followed a few of the Yaltha’ma as they used vines and small wagon-like carts that seemed designed for them to move out material, sorting it in one of the big rooms further inside the first-floor of the East Wing.

Elinor could envision a royal ball taking place below, more and more of the decorative possibilities opening in her mind; many refined visitors from all kingdoms coming to see her crowned as the new monarch.

It wasn’t the first time the thought had run through her head; she’d been nine when Frozen had come out, and like any other starstruck little girl, it had latched onto her mind. The mental images of a massive frozen castle and living as a queen like Elsa was a vision of her childhood.

Now, here she stood, Empress of her own ever-growing land, subjects that adored her, and powers of her own. She hadn’t seen her kingdom being the Undead, but it was close enough. Unlike the movies, though, in the real world, there were always problems, and with a ruined kingdom, many to be addressed. A current issue nudging her sleepless mind was the leftover furniture; it was well designed but was simply too large.

Elinor released a soft sigh as she turned away from the clean-up below to stare at the extravagant furnishings the Quen’Talrat had left behind. Garu, her trusty Ri’bot communication condition, stood by her side with the reanimated remains of a Quen’Talrat. She’d left one of her Quen’Talrat to guard the entrance to the Life Room while keeping watch over Dalria.

Her vision moved across the elegantly designed space, allowing for quite the relaxing party space. Most of the higher levels of the palace had been left untouched for some reason, showing massive cushioned chairs, carved for the colossal forms of the huge apes. The tables themselves stood above her head, made for creatures over three to four times her height; it truly felt like she’d taken over a giant’s home.

Somehow, even the insects seemed to leave much of the place at peace, but Tiffany already had a flurry of plans. The Quen’Talrat had gathered all the resources, and now they just needed to repurpose them; she wanted to take the stuffing out of the chairs, and design for her an extension to Ke’Thra’Ma’s throne.

That was only the tip of the iceberg with what she wanted to be done, but Edmon was a bit more cautious and methodical. Edmon had advised they save the interior design efforts until after they’d thoroughly gauged the city’s defenses. Eventually, she decided on somewhat of a compromise.

She gave Edmon enough of her forces to do what he thought should be done, and he had made a lot of progress, directing his labor team to different parts of the city to take care of specific issues he found. After pouring through some of the mechanical designs of the city, he’d discovered a way to even start the flushing of the sewage system; he wanted to look over the gears, though, before starting it up.

He’d been puzzled over some of the machines since they appeared to use the shining gemstones as a power source. Tiffany showed him that it was simply like turning on a light, you needed to touch it, and it was designed to follow a specific pathway, no different than electricity, but the engineer in him wanted to know how it worked, which frustrated him.

He’d made little progress in that regard, other than it stored power and released it. There appeared to be a method to how the devices were designed to receive the current, such as wires, but the stones themselves were a mystery, and the mechanisms weren’t that advanced technologically, but eventually, he’d shelved it for more important tasks.

While Edmon had to do everything himself, Tiffany had been moving between projects like a manager, teaching each person what they needed to do, and Azalea had been her assistant while Gwen slept, occasionally being sent somewhere in the city to get a status report on some of the Ri’bot they captured.

From what she determined from listening in on their conversations, Tiffany was conditioning and training a Clanless Ri’bot into becoming a warden of sorts. The methods she was using put a shiver down Elinor’s spine; it was something out of a horror movie, but she appeared to have a design behind molding the Ri’bot’s mind to accept the task. It was as if she were the patient teacher, and the Ri’bot was the reluctant student, scared she was doing something wrong.

Tiffany had delegated the clean-up to the Yaltha’ma leaders, telling them she wanted the front of the palace clear, but to sort the debris. She thought everything could be reused for some purpose.

She’d also made a quick stop into the botanical gardens Edmon had pointed out and came back with a bag bulging full of ingredients to help her with a mass ritual she’d be performing later with the humans and Ri’bot, which was one reason why she wanted the front hall cleared.

It amused Elinor greatly; Tiffany worked on a ritual below while simultaneously cooking. The smell rising up from below was rather tantalizing as she prepared the dead creatures the Quen’Talrat had brought back hours before, and Tiffany saved every piece she didn’t use for the dishes.

It was clear the Yaltha’ma were more than a little curious about the smell as she used her Witch’s Fire to tenderize, season, sauté, and perfectly cook the meat. The meal was to feed the Yaltha’ma, and the humans would get to feed their bellies while they made their choice.

Elinor turned back to stare down at the Witch; she was humming casually while gutting the next dead animal. She extracted the blood and guts with her fire and carefully transferred the innards to pots. The organs, however, she placed in large glass jars filled with water, and the bones were carefully pulled out to leave just the meat.

Tiffany used her knife with skill to cut away the fat, putting it aside to be used for something else, but she’d told Elinor that she was a rather mediocre chef and that there was even a Royal Title for the job.

Not every Royal Court member is meant for combat, but every representative has more than enough experience to hold their own. Elinor mused to herself, smiling down at the tables that were slowly being filled with seasoned meat. Tiffany isn’t meant for physical contests, but I’m sure she’d be more than proficient at it if needed.

I have an entire kingdom, and to help govern it, I have my Royal Court, which is a lot more vast than I first thought, but it takes a lot for an Empire to function seamlessly. If there is a position to be filled, then there will be a Royal Court representative to fill that role. They each hold their authority within their rank and file, the Lower Court and the Higher Court.

Edmon, Tiffany, and Iris are within the Higher Court, which oversees vital militaristic designs of the Empire while the Lower Court functions within to take the burden off the Higher Court, yet every member of the Lower Court will be of Transcendent Grade. It’s a fascinating system that has so many branches … at some point, I’ll have a Royal Chef. I may not need to eat, but I can enjoy the pleasure in it.

Tiffany has quite the way with words, but I suppose I raised her to be an advisor and a representative. We don’t have a Royal Ambassador, so she’s filling that role at the moment. I need to find more subjects to raise to lessen the burden on them. I’m not only the will of the Empire, but I’m also the power by which it expands.

She held up her hand, flexing her fingers as she activated Herald of the Empress; green flames licked off her hand as butterflies formed from the fire to flap around her.

I can feel myself growing stronger with every life taken. Camellia has killed a few creatures … yet, in comparison, it’s like a drop in a bucket compared to Iris. She’s living up to her title as the Royal Executioner. Hundreds died in just several hours, and she’s nearly returned. It shouldn’t be that much longer until I can reach her telepathically.

This system doesn’t tell me how many points I have to spare, but I should be able to keep them stored until I need them. That would be the best decision to make. If I need to raise hundreds of more minions, then I’ll have the points to do it, and if I need to increase the level of Lesser Minion Mastery for my current soldiers, then I can do that as well.

Elinor spent the next fifteen minutes walking through the second floor of the East Wing’s main hallway, peering into open rooms as she passed. She was just wasting time while getting a better picture of her new home, but it filled her with a bit of satisfaction; the Ri’bot couldn’t hold her for long, and now she was free again, by her own power.

Yes, she’d lost everything, but never again. What she lacked, she’d take, and if not by negotiations, then by the sword. She had no desire to draw unnecessary conflict, but examples needed to be made out of the Ri’bot. Unlike Ke’Thra’Ma, though, it had to be handled with a scalpel, not a butcher’s cleaver. She needed friends, and for that, she needed information, which Tiffany was gathering.

Each of the rooms held an interesting design and was more than a little too gaudy for her taste, but she wished there were fireplaces. She always liked the appeal it brought to a room. It made sense why the Quen’Talrat wouldn’t have them, though, since they were all trained as warriors and learned to harness some kind of flaming body.

After a few rooms, she was a little disappointed; each one was nearly identical to the last. The right side of the hall was bedrooms, and the left side was for small gatherings—small for the Quen’Talrat, but quite large by a human standard.

This must have been a place for Ke’Thra’Ma’s Elite Hunters. The palace was a place for his most loyal and powerful allies. He did essentially say he brought all of the Quen’Talrat clans together through war, which means he had followers that stood by his side since the beginning. It’s just as Tiffany said, preferentiality. How should…

Her thought faded as Iris’ voice entered her mind. “Empress, we will be returning shortly.”

Elinor folded her arms as she ordered her Quen’Talrat guard to lower its left hand. She smoothly brushed back her white hair as she sat, and her minion lifted her up before moving back toward the Throne Room as Edmon and Tiffany listened in on Iris’ report.

Tiffany appeared to be finishing up her design with the blood taken from the animals; an expansive five-pointed star had been painted upon the floor with intricate twists and turns. The table housing the leftover ingredients had been stationed in the west corner of the room as she completed the final details.

Iris finished the concise recount as her minion set her down upon Ke’Thra’Ma’s throne; his bones had been moved into the Life Room hours before. She still didn’t know what she was going to do with them, but she wished to show respect to the beast. Without his revolution, she would not be in such a favorable position.

Elinor adjusted herself on the giant cushioned chair, waiting for Edmon to return from the West Wing’s library, and Tiffany to direct all the food and water to the second floor of the East Wing she’d been at before.

A soft sigh left Elinor’s lips as she stared down at the Yaltha’ma that were gathering, waiting to be addressed. “Spread the word that we will have guests soon, and prisoners of war. Humans, people that look like me, will be coming here, and Ri’bot captives will be joining them.”

Whispers swept the crowd.

“Ri’bot prisoners!”

“The Empress’ people?”

They quickly dispersed, running to deliver her message, and not soon after, Edmon strode into the room, menacing black armor hardly making a noise. The elderly El’Ra’Ca was beside him, acting as his guide. The Yaltha’ma Elder promptly took one of the seats below the throne.

Elinor spoke through her linked connection to her court. So, Yesenia is the name of the snake-woman, and she got away downriver. I’m surprised they were able to navigate during that storm, but I suppose that means these seawayers are fairly skilled sailors.

Tiffany released a dark hum through the connection. “It is quite concerning. Demon has his sights on her, and even if he cannot possess her after consuming so many resources trying to dig into your soul, he should be able to whisper sweet words into her ear like Ke’Thra’Ma. A desperate woman will do stupid things, and he will promise her freedom from slavery.”

True. Elinor’s eyes followed Edmon up the stairs with a frown as the conversation continued. Is it too late to send Iris out again to bring her back?

“I could leave the moment I bring the prisoners,” Iris offered.

Edmon’s brooding tone responded. “I’d advise against that. Strategically, it would not be a wise decision to invade Nalvean lands. It would be prudent to send someone to negotiate with them for her release, but we also need to at least put on a show that we are not to be trifled with.

“The Clavex Clan is in great debt to the Nalvean Divine Empire; the very name implies some kind of religious binding within the state, which could be used to our advantage and could also be a disadvantage. It seems the Nalveans may not rule the Clavex Clan, but hold a great deal of authority over it.

“The humans are being sent to cancel a debt, but what if we can turn the Nalveans against the Clavex Clan? If we can show them that the Clavex Clan has brought them a gift laced with poison, the ire of a powerful nation, then it could spark a favorable relationship between us that puts the Clavex Clan and the whole Ri’bot territory in a pincer. The Empire to the north and the Nalveans to the south.”

“Oh, Edmon!” Tiffany squealed. “That sounds absolutely wonderful. I love it! My mind went that same route. Although, I was also thinking that Iris could perform a rather covert mission into Nalvean territory to rescue the humans, but … they’d be rather slow returning, and that could cause issues in itself.

“If we bridge relations with the Nalvean Empire, then we’ll be able to proudly raise our flag and sail back! Maybe we could even wrestle some boats out of them for compensation. Oh, I’d love to negotiate with them!”

Elinor smiled as she watched the visage of her former mother enter the room, a bright grin illuminating her cheeks. It’s an option to consider, but first, we’ll wrap up this business with the Ri’bot and humans. I can feel Camellia returning. It shouldn’t be long until she’s within speaking distance, too.

Iris broke into the conversation, and her regal voice made Elinor want to practice speaking herself; it felt so natural and royal coming from the queen. “Should I direct her toward the Throne Room?”

A dark smile touched Elinor’s lips. Yes, I can’t wait to speak with Valdar. Apparently, it is the Komath Clan that really needs to answer for their crimes, since they sent Dalria after me, but I have a history with the Roxim Clan, as well. Tiffany’s been taking special care of the warriors from the Roxim for a while now. The Delthax Clan, though … Valdar seemed to be a sort of sage, and he was there during the Fire Wars. I have a lot to ask him.

When the first group arrived, Elinor watched the Ri’bot and humans enter the Throne Room. She was a little surprised at how many children and women there were. Iris had already told her the exact amount of humans and Ri’bot returning with her, but there were only three men out of the thirty-six brought back.

Iris, how many humans did the Clavex clan take in total?

“Nadraca told me there were at least a hundred and seventy-three. Of those she knows, two were lost in the storm, blown overboard, and the rest brought back to the Nalvean. That number includes Yesenia.”

How injured were they?

“Not as much as I would expect, and from Nadraca’s own lips, they provided medical treatment to those that needed it. She appeared to regret losing human life in their hurried flight, and I did not sense any deceit. However, that is not exactly my expertise. Nadraca made careful hints that she tried to be as kind as possible to the humans, and they used the least lethal means they could employ, but still lost many of her warriors.”

Elinor’s jaw locked as she caught sight of Nadraca, identified by the necklace around her neck; the humans were huddled in a group to the right of her while the Ri’bot were to the left, and Iris elegantly ascended the stairs to join Edmon. She only partially noticed a slight frown on Tiffany’s lips as her orange eyes darted to the Thélméthra, in human form, before returning to the captives.

How many humans did they kill, and how many Ri’bot did the humans kill in their clan?

“According to her, twenty-eight Ri’bot to thirty-eight human. She places most of the deaths at the feet of the Roxim Clan.”

It wouldn’t surprise me. Elinor said, trying to restrain a growl. However, I don’t trust her numbers, to begin with. Let’s see how the humans give the recount.

Both groups stood in terrified silence as Violet and Azalea entered the hall from behind, crawling on the walls to stand on all eights blocking the stairs, and everyone’s attention rose to Elinor as she sat upon her white throne.

“My name is Empress Elinor. I will speak to the humans alone, and in private in a short while as the second group returns. Before that, however…”

She turned her green eyes to the men and women that were staring up at her with wide eyes, vision darting to the Thélméthra from time to time, and after a short pause continued.

“Tell me, how did the Toads over here treat you? Each of the clans has different skin-tones. What was your experience under the Clavex Clan?”

The silence stretched, and one of the three men stepped forward, clearly nervous. “Umm … is this a trial?”

Elinor’s eyes darkened, and even though they couldn’t understand what he said, the Clavex members were quivering with fear as she responded. “Yes.”

He licked his lips, glancing over at the Toads staring at them with their wide eyes. Even between species, the fear was palpable. “It was the green ones with different markings … I saw them cut p-people up … limb from l-limb. I see it when I close my eyes … I could never forget those…”

Nadraca’s shaky voice gained a bit of power as she tried to interject. “P-Please, Empress…”

Her shaking legs gave out as Edmon’s gruff voice turned to ice, and a threatening aura pervaded the space as mist exploded around the area with a gust of chilled wind; it felt like cold water running down Elinor’s back before the light fog dispersed. “Silence. You will speak if given permission.”

The human man was quivering, and his voice hoarse. “C-Compared to how those o-others treated us … these ones—it was like night and day.”

“One of them took my child from me,” a woman spoke up, causing everyone to turn their focus to her. “H-He was only three … I think—the orange ones … they took the babies. These ones took a lot of the kids … between five and eight. I saw one boy … he was lost in the storm. They didn’t want to dock the boats.”

“No,” Elinor growled. “I bet they didn’t. They were running from me.” Elinor turned her gaze to Iris. “Did you find any human bodies washed up along the shore?”

Iris shook her head. “None. They would have likely been washed further downstream from where I found this group.”

Elinor’s eyes didn’t drop from the woman, but inside, she knew how she’d feel if the bodies of her parents had been washed away. She was concerned about her own child, stolen by the Kalnath Clan, but still had enough empathy to care about another mother who wouldn’t see their son again.

“So,” she said, vision sweeping the humans. “You’re telling me that Nadraca and the Clavex Clan were not nearly the monsters the other clans were?”

“N-Not from w-what I know,” the man mumbled.

A little girl, no older than seven, stood up from her crouching position, and she almost seemed bold as she tried putting on a brave face before pointing at Nadraca. “This one saved me from the big ugly one! I got chocolate.” Her face fell a little. “I didn’t like it, though.”

“Célia says I’ll see my daddy soon, too! Oh, and Célia used to be my babysitter! We got blankets and fire … it was—was really cold, and windy and the hail hurt, but then we stopped, and it all got better! I like Iris, too! She’s nice, and made me cool clothes…”

A woman in her twenties, she assumed was Célia, knelt down, and put her finger to her lips. “Shh, Nohemi. Let the grown-ups talk.”

“Why? I wanna talk, too! It’s so quiet.”

Elinor’s brow creased as she stared down at the girl. “Is that right? Did they beat you?”

The girl shook her head, black hair flailing around. “Nu-uh! Not at all! They were really nice.”

“Not exactly,” the man mumbled, rubbing his left arm before swallowing.

“Don’t be mean!” The girl scowled. “They made a fire to dry my clothes!”

Tiffany frowned, glancing over at her. “Are you planning on pardoning the Clavex Clan with this bit of information?”

Elinor took a deep breath before turning her green eyes upon the toads. No, I could never do that with what I saw, and I’m sure the man’s right. It was a bit more complex for a child to understand, but they at least seem to have some shred of humane treatment in them. I’ll have to think on it further, but the only grievance I personally have with this clan is putting a hole in Ms. Bones’ head.

Tiffany’s eyebrows drew together as she stared at her. “Ms. Bones? Who’s that?”

Nothing relevant at the moment. Elinor said with a sad tone. It was Boss … Fennel, a Ri’bot from the Roxim Clan that took that away from me. I gave Dalria a hair of a chance to convince me why I shouldn’t destroy the entire Ri’bot race, perhaps it could be a collective effort. Although, I feel like it’ll just turn out like batman … let a villain live, and they’ll just swear revenge and come back later, but … I’ll have to think about it more.

Her vision centered on Nohemi, and she smiled; the fiery girl was a breath of fresh air, and she saw a younger version of herself in the child. I was quite the problem kid growing up, wasn’t I? An Empire needs subjects, and not everyone needs to be Undead, but in my Empire, nothing will stay dead for long.

Elinor’s eyes centered on Iris as Camellia came back into range; she’d taken quite a long time considering the distance Iris’ group had to travel, and the Queen directed her daughter to bring them into the Throne Room.

Well, let’s see what Valdar thinks of my rising Empire.