Art waited outside the locked double doors to the royal dining hall. Within, he could hear heated conversations and raised voices amidst the clanks of utensils.

The décor for the keep had the interior walls made of white stones, double layered with the standard hard stone on the exterior so that it could withstand a siege. One the inside, the walls were also lined with images made up of bricks of quartz, with images of dragons of old and Titans of ages. Further brightening the halls were cryst lamps that shone an incandescent silver. Outside, stars flickered against the city backdrop.

She was now in her formal uniform, grey pants, long leather boots, and a white tunic embroidered with the queens steel shaded symbol - a sword ringed into a crown of fire. Her hair had been tied into a tail, and was spouting a silver clip with the Knights of Round's disc-shaped insignia scissoring her summer gold locks.

Guards and castle staff passed her, greeting her every chance they had. She was slightly tired of having to greet them back after the second dozen times and replied with the next group of patrol with a curt nod instead.

However, after hald an hour of waiting, two teens - maybe young adults - a male and female dressed in green and maroon, jogged past her in a hurry without so much as a word, their hands signing to each other all the while as they vanished around a corner. After a few seconds, a man in a grey coat came out from behind a pillar far down the corridor and looked cautiously down the hallway the pair disappeared to before letting out a relieved sigh. Art almost went to him, seeing his slightly suspicious behaviour, until he spotted her and waved embarrassingly. Something then caught his attention as he looked away in shock, then turning to run in the opposite direction of his gaze. Not long after, the two in young adults in green ran by in pursuit.

As interesting as the show was, Art was not about to give chase to a couple of troublemakers. If they were truly not supposed to be in the keep, she doubted any guards would allow their shenanigans for long.

Art wondered how long the dinner was going take. She had eaten already, of course, and there was no particular rush, but she would like to have the chance to finally speak to the queen in private.

Finally, the doors opened, and a stream of elderly men and women walked out. They were all well dressed with the frills and velveteen of members of The Council. A couple of them glanced over their shoulders as they exited, catching Art in their sights. They gave the knight a greeting, and she was then obliged to reply with a soft salute, given their status.

A man greeted, ‟Ah, Artria.”

She winced at the voice, but reluctantly turned and saluted. ‟Coun Taliesin. Good evening.”

With slick golden hair and a handsome face that could par with any a theatre's actors, the man was the youngest on The Council in history. Elected by a thin margin of its members, rumours abounded of corruption and favouritism, though nothing truly stuck. Something about the man set Art on edge. It wasn't his unnaturally dyed grape coloured short hair, or his piercing silver eyes. It was something far more instinctual.

‟At ease, Lae Art.” He smiled shiningly as he moved away from the door so his colleagues could pass by them. ‟I heard through the grapevine that you brought in an interesting prisoner this afternoon.”

‟A prisoner is a stretch,” Art conceded. ‟He is being held for questioning, yes, but no crime has been committed.”

‟Is that right?” He cocked a curious brow. ‟Well, I will leave matters of security as you see fit then, given your position.”

‟Of course.” Then, a question came to her mind. ‟I saw two young adults wearing green and maroon, and a man in a coat. They are not ours, are they?”

‟I see you've met our guests.”

‟Guests?”

‟They are an investigative group from Aleynonlia here to find out the reason behind The Janus going rogue. Though they were here before the news of her death, so they are now performing as acting liaisons until an ambassador can be sent.”

‟Huh.” Art let out. Officials from Aleynonlia acting as childish as she had witnessed? That interested her.

The Council had finally all left the room, leaving Taliesin as the final member.

‟Well, it's good to have you back, Lae Art. I await with anticipation to see your report of what you've been up to.” The man spoke with finality. ‟I shall not keep you. The queen is eager to see meet with you, after all. Good night, Lae Art.”

‟Good night, Coun Taliesin.” Art bowed to the man leaving.

Finally, she gave a sigh of relief. She was done with all the social interaction. Morgan said she was a good diplomat, but even if true, Art did not particularly enjoyed public expression. Not to say she hated them either. She simply did them as a part of her routine.

She made sure to close the door behind her as she stepped into the royal dining hall.

‟Art! Thank Titans you're back.” She was immediately greeted from across the room.

The queen was standing across the room at the end of the table, a parchment in hand which she immediately returned to the attendant next to her upon seeing Art enter. Never having liked the traditional dresses, the monarch wore a full body white cotton suit with a long and black silk pareo skirt. Still young at two hundred and twelve, the female hume's brunette hair curled and swept to the side, tucking a silver tiara across her crown. Her cheeks were squarely defined, and her chins sharp, giving her a constantly steeled expression as if she was ready to command the world. Fading green eyes that mirrored a sky of grass gazed at Art.

‟Queen Gweneviere.” Art saluted. ‟It is good to see you.”

The queen waved a hand, annoyed. ‟The formalities! I've known you for over a hundred years and this is how you address me.”

Art smiled. ‟I'm sorry, my queen. But I must keep up some level of courtesy in company.”

‟Art.” Gweneviere raised a brow.

‟My queen,” Art reiterated.

Gwen motioned for the attendant to leave them. The latter bowed to both the knight and queen with a smile before exiting the room.

‟Alright, Art.”

‟Yes, Gwen?” Art smiled.

The queen chuckled. ‟A lizardkin?” Gwen asked, getting straight to the point. ‟I was hoping you'd bring a lover home, but that is far beyond what I imagined.”

‟I did not exactly choose the circumstances,” Art explained. She then relayed the situation to the queen, whose face grew progressively more intrigued by the minute.

Gwen pondered, ‟A diplomat, you say? And this tribe of- how many?”

‟About sixty,” Art confirmed.

‟They are looking to reintegrate?”

‟That's what they say.”

‟So why imprisoned him?”

Art explained, ‟After learning about the situation here, I figured the best way to get him through to you with minimum interferences was in the form of an ‟interrogation”, so to speak. Even if The Council knew of his arrival, they won't be able to use him as any form of political leverage.”

‟That is true.” With an impressed look, the queen noted, ‟For someone against dabbling in politics, you have a very keen mind for it.”

‟I'm not interested in being queen,” Art interjected before the idea was brought up again.

‟I wasn't going to ask that.”

‟Sure you weren't,” Art sarcastically answered.

‟And Morgan and Meryl are investigating the serial killings?”

‟Yes.”

The queen rubbed her neck in worry. ‟I was hoping to have them back. Things would feel more grounded with all of you around.”

‟I could send a message for them to return, if you so desire,” Art offered.

‟No, no. With the lizardkin where they are it's best if they remain there for now.” Gwen sighed. ‟Alright, so this Lands Lord. Does he know why you had him thrown in the dungeon?”

‟No.”

‟Shouldn't you have told him?”

‟I had very little privacy or time to formulate this idea. Besides, I deemed his knowledge of it not consequential to the plan.”

‟You're not very keen on reintegration, are you?”

‟Can't honestly say I am. But I serve you, so your decision is what I will follow.”

Gwen smiled. ‟Well, you have sway in this court, like it or not. I value your council. So much so I wanted to ask your opinion on this whole Janus situation.”

‟In what aspect?” Art asked in turn.

Gwen walked around the table to Art's side, then leaned against the furniture's edge on the line of her hind. ‟I'm sure you know we have been unable to find a successor to the position. All this time we've relied on The Janus to find their own successor. But it seems like this is the end of the line for that branch of power. The Council is proposing to find an alternative precog for the position, with any future Janus's selected from the public pool.”

Concerned, Art asked, ‟What do you think?”

‟I think The Council is trying to solidify power. A civilian Janus would be far easier for them to control. Right now there are multiple factions with multiple views. It's taking time and debates between all parties as you can see.” She gestured boringly to the tables spread around them. ‟But we are slowly getting somewhere, enough that it is likely I'll be making a decision as a tie breaker. Which is why I want to hear from someone such as yourself, the person who carries out our orders. What say you?”

Art thought on the subject for a moment. ‟I honestly have no strong opinion on this,” she admitted. ‟I do not think the country needs a precog to lead us. I belief our people are more than capable of traversing the world stage.”

Gwen looked impressed. ‟Collected. Patriotic. Charismatic. The perfect response for a leader.”

‟I'm not going to be queen.”

‟Why not?” Gwen threw her hands up in exasperation. ‟You're smart, you're beautiful, and most of all, they respect you.” She picked up a stack of parchment off the table. ‟You'll definitely have an easier time and be able to do what I can't - get through all these towers of nonsense they've erected around me.” She threw the papers back on the table unceremoniously.

Art folded her arms. She was used to Gwen's tantrum when it came to this topic.

With a sigh, the queen said, ‟I need some time to think about this, to clear my head.” A look of resolve crossed her face. ‟You know what? Let's set this in the background. We'll go see this lizard of yours.”