After getting Xanadu to play along, Isabelle and Gaius picked the room closer to the dead end, the one opposite to Xanadu’s own. Its interior wasn’t anything much to look at; it was positively lacking compared to their home in the Mortal Light Dynasty.

Gaius grumbled for a minute or two.

“Now, now. Isn’t it good that the room isn’t fancy or anything?” Isabelle asked. “Doesn’t it show that most of the money’s going into the battle, rather than superfluous decorations?”

“True,” Gaius acknowledged, before bopping the bed in the middle. It was a tad smaller than their combined bed back in the North. “Are you going to be uncomfortable with a bed this small?”

“I think the inn’s beds are smaller, though.” Isabelle laid down on it experimentally. “Besides, the mattress isn’t that soft. I think I’ll mind that more than the size.”

“Really?

“Try it out. I wonder if we can get our own mattress or something.”

After discussing the means in which their sleep could be made more comfortable for a few minutes, Gaius and Isabelle rolled off the bed. One good thing about a less-than-comfortable bed was that neither of them were all that reluctant to leave it; had this been their own bed, Gaius wouldn’t have rolled off that easily.

The sounds of game pieces clacking away entered Gaius’ ears as he stepped out of his room with Isabelle. Clearly, Xanadu was playing along with Isabelle’s suggestion, and after depositing Nexus with her, the two left for the Hall of Guardians…or rather, the counter that they had dropped by earlier.

“So, who’s Speaker Sephira?” Gaius asked, looking around the uniform hallway.

“I guess…you can call her the leader of the Southern Assembly,” said Isabelle. “On paper, every noble of the Assembly is equal, so there’s nothing like a ruler. However, this means that the Assembly is unlikely to function well as a decision-making body. Therefore, a rotating” —Isabelle made some air quotes with her hands at that moment— “position called the Speaker was created. The Speaker of the Assembly has the authority to decide what policies should be voted on and what issues should be raised.”

“How does that authority work?”

“Well,” said Isabelle, “any member of the Assembly can draft policies and proposals and send them up to the Speaker. In theory, the Speaker would assess these policies and proposals objectively, before deciding if they have merit or not.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow. “In practice?”

“Well, a generous amount of funding is typically required to make it happen. Also relevant is the fact that the position of Speaker has been rotating within House Sephira for the past three or four thousand years, so…”

“The system has decayed, I see.”

“And any means to actually correct it needs to go through the Speaker,” said Isabelle.

“How is the Speaker decided?” Gaius asked, curious.

“It’s decided by votes,” said Isabelle.

Gaius tilted his head. “So how did the Speaker position stay within House Sephira for that long?”

“House Sephira has a few…vassals, I guess. And they like making more of such friends who are willing to help them out in return for cold, hard cash,” Isabelle replied. “Every House has an equal number of votes, but not every House has the same ability to guarantee their security, nor do they have the same amount of wealth.”

Gaius rubbed his nose. It was somewhat astounding to see the idea of wealth makes right made manifest in the highest organs of the Southern Assembly, but it was probably just proof that he hadn’t paid much attention to politics on both Earth and Orb. After all, if he had, then—

Then?

Before Gaius could figure out why he had such a thought, Isabelle chuckled. “Houses that are underprivileged when it comes to wealth have the ability to make up for it. After all, it’s unlikely that these Houses would be nominated to provide a Speaker in the first place, so why not use it to their advantage? It’s not all that bad.”

Having lost his train of thoughts, Gaius nodded along. It did make some sense, when put that way.

“Did your family benefit from these arrangements long ago?” Gaius asked.

“Yes. We weren’t all that important; save for the Altar of Gods, we weren’t a first-rate House. Going with the flow was what my parents and my grandparents did,” said Isabelle. “Of course, now that we’re not part of the Assembly, free money like this no longer drops into our laps.”

Laughing together with her, Gaius arrived at the counter, where the clerk from earlier was juggling eight red balls.

“Done with your luggage?” the clerk asked, catching the balls one by one. “Let’s go over to the Hall of Guardians, then.”

Passing the balls over to his colleagues, he leapt over the counter and somersaulted towards an entrance. The entrance was somewhat decorated, with a plaque that read ‘Hall of Guardians: 200m’ stuck on its side.

Leading them through a rather simple maze, a couple and their guide arrived at a little foyer. There were many other passages that led to that particular lobby, and in the middle of that lobby was an archway that led to a flower-filled courtyard.

In the sea of flowers was a tower. A single path connected it to the archway, and for a moment, Gaius couldn’t help but think that the archway itself was an entrance to another world.

“That’s the Hall of Guardians,” said the clerk. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Gaius wasn’t sure if he was referring to the flowers or the elaborate tower, so he simply replied with a grunt. Either way, it was a stark difference to the dull walls and the bleak battlefield that had entered his sight earlier.

“Who made this place?” Gaius asked.

“I don’t know either,” said the clerk. “None of us clerks know about its origins, other than the fact that this was something the War Council created.”

“The War Council, eh?” Gaius mulled over those words. “Never mind. Come on, let’s go.”

Taking Isabelle by the hand, he led her down the field of flowers, towards the tower of prismatic light.