The applicant shuffled out through the doors and the guardsmen shut it behind them. The herald gave Minul a tentative look, ready with his staff in one hand. She shook her head, rising to her feet. Even before she spoke relieved groans filled the room.

“Take a break, five minutes.”

Chairs were brought out for some of the older people to sat on, while some of the younger people just sat down on the floor, not bothering to look for a more auspicious place to sit. She saw Marks, her water-servant, carefully put down his tray, before flopping onto the floor lying flat on his back.

Saif approached her from behind the throne, as she tried her best to be inconspicuous about stretching out her legs and back from sitting down for so long. It was heading towards evening at the end of a long day and her hamstrings were killing her, constantly threatening to lock up.

“We’ve just had two visitors rudely step into the palace.” Saif said, a smile lingering on his lips. “They seem quite unhappy, especially in their old age.”

Minul rolled her eyes of course they weren’t happy, she’d just taken away one of their toys. “Thanks for the warning, though…” She paused, embracing the pressure. She easily sensed the two powerful presences pushing their way towards her. Normally, guardsmen would’ve tried to stop them, but seeing as Saif was already aware of them, the guards would’ve been ordered to stand down. She wouldn’t put simple guardsmen between herself and hostile tethered if she could help it.

“Open the doors.” The Queen told the guards, as she readied herself. They looked at her curiously, but followed orders. The servants looked around and started rising, but she waved them down. “Don’t bother, this shouldn’t take long.”

“Shouldn’t take long?” One of the newcomers yelled from the hall, the sound echoing into the chamber. “Goddess damned right it shouldn’t take long.”

Ulf and Hildrid strode into the audience chamber, dressed in the full regalia of their office. Something they’d clearly gone through the trouble of arranging, before heading to the palace.

Ulf wore a long robe of white and red, though it noticeably lacked the elusrian coat of arms, instead sporting the symbol of the Masters’ Council, something that didn’t officially exist. Six circles each with a symbol representing one of the elements within, formed a polygon, from which lines emerged to meet in the middle.

Hildrid wore a similar robe, featuring the same symbol, except she wore a shawl over her robes, with the coat of arms for the Royal School of Elusria. As the Headmaster, she was technically in her right to wear the authority of both offices.

Their pinched faces made their attitudes clear to all who didn’t have tethered senses.

“Councilors.” Minul said, making sure she didn’t invite a single ounce of warmth into her voice. “Why are you here?”

Hildrid scoffed, clearly taking notice of Minul’s lack of courtesy. However, that didn’t stop Ulf from answering. “You can’t do this. They’re under our authority!”

“What is under your authority?” Minul asked, smiling tightly.

“The academy and the school.” Hildrid said, voice as sour as her face.

“The academy and the school aren’t under your authority, though. They’re under the Master of Education’s authority, Leif Serpent-Vein.”

Ulf’s jaw fibrillated to the point Minul feared he was going to have a heart attacked right in front of her. “They shouldn’t be! They always have been and always will be ours!”

“Respe-“ Minul reconsidered her words. “No. It was never under your authority. It was under my authority. I am the Queen of Elusria and I hold all the authority in Elusria. That I let you keep running our most important institutions was a show of faith, one that was clearly misplaced.”

She turned her back and walked to her throne, she waved for one of her maids to come over. The woman quietly did. “What you’ve failed to realize is that the Councils doesn’t hold any authority I don’t give them.” She took off one of her rings, examining it in the light, before putting it in the hand of the maid, then another until her fingers were unadorned. “You have no authority, just like Thyri doesn’t own my rings. The issue is-“ She smiled and nodded at Thyri letting the woman go, before turning around. “I can actually trust her with my rings.”

Hildrid was staring daggers. A vein ran the height of her forehead, from her nose to her hairline, pulsing thickly to the beat elderly woman’s anger. It stood out strongly enough on her forehead that Minul could actually see the shadow it cast.

Hildrid stepped forwards sending her tether-sense questing towards Minul like a roving building. It hit the unyielding mountainside of Saif’s power as he stepped in front of her.

Saif didn’t say anything. With the coal, black, and thick, hair, he couldn’t have been much older than his forties, yet he handily stopped her power. His slightly salted beard put some much needed experience on his mostly youthful features.

“Get out of my way, ankirian.” Hildrid sneered.

Saif just raised a cocky eyebrow.

“And then what, Hildrid.” Minul said, sitting down in her throne. “You’re going to threaten me? Throw me off the throne and claim yourself Queen of Elusria?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Hildrid scoffed.

“So you were just going to threaten me? Make sure I knew my place. Cow me before my servants?” Minul raised an eyebrow, equally as cocky as Saif’s. “Tell me you had a better plan than that.”

“I-“

“Wasn’t going to commit treason? Assault your Queen? Then why did you come in here brandishing your power in all it’s ‘glory’?”

“My Queen.” Ulf said, stepping forwards to speak in Hildrid’s choked silence of affront and chagrin. He’d noticeably left his power, making him far less of a threat. “I’m sorry that we came in like that. The news had us in an anger that we accidentally drew into a froth between each other. Again I apologize.” He knelt then, fell to both knees.

“You apologize?” Minul said, one hand toying with the armrest of her throne. “For coming in here like spoiled children, angry that mommy took away your favorite toy?”

Hildrid let out a sound of choked laughter, somewhere between so angry she couldn’t understand what was going on and so disbelieving that she had to laugh. Ulf bit his tongue and bowed his head, hiding his own face against the floor.

“You come here in your finest little dresses, showing all the authority that you supposedly wear…” Minul waved with her left hand towards the shawl around Hildrid’s shoulders. “Saif, let me see that.”

The smoke tethered took it off Hildrid’s shoulders. When the woman tried to hold onto the cloth, he ripped it out of her hands. Turning his back deliberately on the master, he handed the shawl to Minul.

“The shawl of the Headmaster of the Royal School.” Minul mused, turning it over. “This was once an entire robe, similar to what you’re wearing, right?” She handed it to Thyri, and dusted her hands. “I’ve been forced to think about authority and rulership a lot lately, which has let me towards a new idea. Hildrid, tell me what you think of this. ‘You cannot be Councilor and leader of an institution.’ Sounds to me like those wouldn’t work together, right?”

Hildrid’s face was turning purple with fury, but she was managing to keep her wrath from reaching Minul, though her tether-sense fairly writhed in the air before her, inches from Saif’s own.

“That sounds like a good idea, your Majesty.” Hildrid said, then she turned and walked away.

“You can burn that.” Minul said to Thyri, gesturing to the shawl. “I don’t keep trophies.” Then she turned her attention to the Councilor Ulf, who was still kneeling on the floor. “Leave and don’t come back until you have actual advice to offer.”