“Do you have any idea what you just did?” screamed Saphielle, matching Keela’s hurried pace.

“Yes, I’m aware. I just killed his son who had threatened my life before. And I warned him”, replied Keela, wiping the blood off her face.

Velka followed behind, worriedly apologizing to the servants for the commotion.

“I can see that, yes. But you also just screwed over any chance of having any political relations with that city and half their kingdom!” continued Saphielle, trying to get in front of Keela.

“I didn’t ruin anything. I need to get changed right now”, replied Keela, aptly dodging the attempt to block her path.

“And why would you think that would be more important than fixing the mess you just put us through?”

“Because we’re going to Wul. Right now. And we’re requesting an audience with the king.”

“On what basis?!”

“The death of Bertaut the Architect and the culprits.”

Saphielle stopped her screaming, quickly putting a hand to her chin pensively. After a few seconds, she seemed to have an epiphany.

“That might work actually. How are we going to get there?” she asked, now visibly less angered.

“I have my ways”, replied Keela, taking a right towards her chambers.

Bolting inside, she quickly got out of the dress, likely damaging it in the process. They didn’t have much time to get to Wul before Raymond but it was essential that they did. She quickly got into another dress, this one light green with mesh patterns on the sides.

“This’ll do”, she said, looking at herself.

“Do we head for the teleportation room now? We don’t have much time”, said Saphielle, on the same wavelength as Keela.

“You’re coming?”

“After what you just pulled, I don’t trust you to be alone with anyone with mild political power.”

“Vexing but understandable.”

“So, are we going to the teleporter room?”

“No, we’ll go from here. Bertaut’s house should do.”

“What do--”

Saphielle stopped talking as Keela’s hands shattered spacetime at her fingertips, bending it and forcefully prying it open, revealing the now overgrown garden of Bertaut’s house on the other side. Quickly, she grabbed both her assistant and her bodyguard and leapt through, closing it as soon as she could.

“What was that?” asked Saphielle as Keela put her back on the ground.

“Straighten your dress and keep this a secret, no one can know about this”, replied Keela, placing back her dress and adjusting her crown.

“Do you know the way to the palace?” asked Velka, chiming in, completely unphased by the events.

“No, do you?” retorted Keela, looking around for the door.

Simply nodding, Velka led the way through the cobblestone streets of Wul, which neither of them had seen in a while; not that they had changed. Within a few minutes, they arrived at the palace, a grandiose white brick structure that stood proud above the fairgrounds with its gothic design, colorful windows and banners. The guards at the fence barred the way, doing their job. Saphielle stepped forward, looking to speak up; an intent acknowledged by Keela who simply crossed her arms behind her back.

“Halt! State your purpose!” said one of the guards in an authoritative tone.

“We request an urgent audience with the king to discuss acts of terrorism, death of a noble of Wul and the culprits of said act”, replied Saphielle in a loud clear professional tone.

The two guards eyed each other dubiously.

“And who is asking for such an audience?” continued the same guard, relaxing the grip on their pike.

“The new queen of Noclye”, said Saphielle grinning and stepping aside to let them see Keela.

Keela, seeing this, offered a greeting nod, showing her signet ring. The second guard quickly went off, getting an escort and approbation. Within fifteen minutes, Keela and her accompanying aides were led through the corridors of the palace towards a tea room. The heavy stained maple door swung slowly on its hinges, revealing a set of couches around a low table bearing a tea set. In one of the couches sat the King of Dagia himself, Harold Saft. His demeanor alone showed he had spent his entire life as royalty, but the early grizzled temples showed a great amount of stress from the work it brought on him. Following Saphielle’s lead, Keela sat on the opposing couch next to her assistant, Velka standing up behind them, arms crossed behind her back. Eyeing the curious procession, the king cocked an eyebrow but quickly composed himself.

“My guards mentioned some… curious reasons for such a hurried meeting. Naturally, my interest was piqued. I wanted to hear these issues for myself and see the new queen of the Noclye empire. I see she is as beautiful as her mother, which is high praise”, said the king courteously, bowing his head slightly.

“Please raise your head, I wouldn’t want to accept this praise after what I did to her”, replied Keela who was irked by the mention of her mother.

“Naturally. Now then, I must admit I am curious as to why you bring acts of terrorism which happened in your country to me”, noted the king, raising his head with a smile, motioning a servant to pour the tea.

“Well, it implies an important figure of your kingdom that came to deliver me the head of one of your nobles whom I spent time with as a threat.”

The king froze with the cup in his hand, inches away from his lips. He put it down, now interested in the subject.

“Continue…” he beckoned, crossing his hands in front of his mouth to rest his head on.

“Well, you see, during the coronation ceremony, Raymond of the Summer showed himself and gave me the head of Bertaut the Architect, which was conserved in a bag. I brought it with me if you wish to confirm”, replied Keela, reaching for the bag.

“That won’t be necessary right now. I wasn’t aware of the Architect’s demise. His house has been empty for a while but I assumed he was on a trip for some unknown purpose.”

“I can assure you he is, I was there when he died.”

“And… who killed him?”

“Well, that’s where it gets complicated. It was the Ivory Razor.”

The king froze yet again, his face painting half disbelief and half anger. As he was about to speak up, noises were heard on the other side of the door.

“...sir, we can’t let you in. Your majesty is in a meeting right now and--”

“I don’t care! I need to see him now!”

The door opened on a fuming Raymond, who quickly calmed down in the presence of the king, but was angered again by the sight of Keela.

“You!” he screamed, drawing his sword.

Velka acted faster than him, grabbing the blade and melting it within her palm. Swiftly disarming him, she lifted a knee in his stomach, causing him to bend in half. With an elbow strike to the back, he fell to the ground. Stepping on his back and dragging his arm back, Velka put him in an arm lock, rendering him unable to move.

“Your majesty! You mustn't listen! She’s--”

“Whatever I may be Raymond, it doesn’t excuse hosting Ivory Razor meetings in your basement and being a part of it as well, killing Bertaut and using him to try to taunt me”, interrupted Keela, eyeing him condescendingly.

“What’s the meaning of this, Raymond?” asked the king, now confusedly looking at Keela and Raymond.

“She’s spouting lies!” screamed Raymond before having his face forcefully wrestled to the ground again by Velka.

“Well, would you want to show your chest to prove me I’m wrong Raymond? That scar on your chest doesn’t lie, does it?” said Keela, taking a sip of tea, pleasantly surprised by its fragrant flavor.

“I… Then what about you? You have one on your flank!” replied Raymond, cold sweat starting to pearl on his forehead.

“I do? You can check my flanks yourself if you want, I’m wearing mesh over them, they should be plenty visible and clean. My only scar is on my stomach back from when your organisation tried to kill me again.”

Smiling, she sipped her tea again. Raymond had nothing else against her because of his attempted assault when he entered. He had just rendered his word untrustable; even the death of his son would bear no weight. Raymond fell silent, realizing his mistake himself. He had no way out. The king had also understood the circumstances, his gaze now steeled.

“May I ask as to his punishment your Highness?” said Keela, putting her cup down.

“He’ll be executed for acts of terrorism and high treason”, said the king, eyes now cold and dead.

“Shall I leave him in your hands then?”

“If you would.”

Keela motioned for Velka to stand down, who obeyed, going back to her original position behind the couch. Raymond was escorted out by two guards who shackled him and dragged him out unceremoniously.

“Was that all you had for today? I’d like to get some rest, this was a lot to take in”, said the king, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a show of exhaustion.

“Just one last thing, your highness”, replied Keela, to Saphielle’s surprise.

“What is it?”

“I am not my mother. I bore no ill will towards the dwarves and thoroughly regret what happened. I took care of the problematic ruler that was in place and I now hope to make my country a better place. I had just hoped you would consider this if it was ever brought up that there could be a lift on our economic embargo. On this note, have a great day your Highness.”

With a polite courtesy, she got up, followed by Saphielle who bowed and the three of them excused themselves, heading back to their own duties with an overwhelming win.