Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK II - Scene XXIX

As Prince Reach arrived in the Maiden Land seas it was surprisingly dull. He'd been expecting a tad more action in this fishbowl of conflict, or at least to have seen a few ships on his journey, but so far it had been peaceful and lonely sailing. Cutting a wide path far from the coast of the Eastern Kingdom may have helped this, though with speed at the essence he hadn't been overly cautious on his approach. His eagerness hacking at the waves. Now, with the southern coast of the Maiden Lands coming into sight - flowering into greenery through the first-sighted murk - he tried to remind himself to stay alert, yet he felt calm and still. The false lull of security being almost impossible to cast off.

As the ship neared land it clipped its speed and drifted parallel to the coast. The green fields of the pleasant kingdom, a seeming stone's throw away, rolling out before him like an endlessly unfurling scroll. Glancing across the panorama he couldn't help but give thoughts to how poorly defended the country was, and this observation gave him a sense of heightened self-importance. The task at hand being even greater than he'd initially imagined. Some of his men peered upstream for a glimpse of Maiden's Tower, which still loomed beyond the horizon, but he simply watched out at the pastoral scene. Confident in the timing of his approach, and expecting that once one or two of the country's inhabitants had clocked his Tunidan sail, word would quickly spread of his arrival. A sight of great relief no doubt to a beleaguered people he thought. Unbeknownst to him, however, Queen Aglaia's spies had noted his presence long before he'd noticed the quiet scenery. In fact, his ship had been escorted, at a delicate distance, for nearly half the journey since he'd arched the southern tip of Caster.

Finally, after a further half an hour of coasting, one of her discrete vessels came gracing into view, its tassels and flags barely disturbed by the breeze. The sail of spotless linen like a neat handkerchief above the water. Before Prince Reach knew it he was being guided into harbour. The polite and well turned out captain shouting across to him with a formal but friendly welcome. As he followed this chaperone, the city of Maiden's Tower gradually rose into view, almost as unexpectedly as the immaculate ship. Reach ordered his men to drop sail, and left it to his oarsmen to keep the pace. The two so-different looking vessels a pleasing sight, symbolic of two peoples coming together in a dangerous endeavour. The once unseen inhabitants of the country now dotting about on the coast watching on. By the time the ships crossed into the harbour waters throngs of people were waiting to catch a glimpse.

As Reach disembarked from his vessel he was taken by the captain to the beautiful horse-drawn carriage that stood awaiting him. Stepping up the little stair to enter he looked back at the gala-like commotion. The pretty display and fanfare once again taking him by surprise. As he sat down he felt as if he was on a strange carnival ride over which he had no control. The carriage door closed, and gently, but quickly it moved off. He looked out of the window at the passing houses. The pretty wooden homes and shopfronts. The little trees that lined the streets, and the newly lit lamps hung along the way. The brightness of the day now crossing into the bare beginnings of evening. With every turning corner a different, but similar impression. The stone cobbles and clicking hooves the constant track upon which the scenery reeled. A left and then a right, then a right again. With the ever-so-slight sense that with each street and avenue the carriage travelled further up hill. Before there was further time to think it came to a stop though. The door then re-opened.

The carriage was now inside the gates of Queen Aglaia's marvellous palace. After stepping back down the little stair and into the courtyard air he was escorted towards the main entrance. A foot soldier leading him in front, with two other either side. All dressed in redcoats with neat gold trim; their oversized headwear almost covering their well-drilled, but obeying eyes. Prince Reach instinctively straightened up his own tunic as if in response, then straightened his back and stood slightly more upright to better fit the formality. He looked up at the white and yellow facade of the palace, then walked up the steps and through the enormous door. The red carpet beneath his feet leading him into a hallway with huge arching ceilings. A chandelier hanging in the centre, like a giant orb of white light held captive in an upturned golden crown.

He crossed this hall and ascended a staircase, which then arched around under another domed ceiling. Where two further chandeliers, as large and impressive as the first, hung like lit stars, though daylight still poured through the large rectangular windows that framed the stairway. One hanging higher than the other, like snowy fruit on invisible tree branches. The dark wood spindles of the banister the only gloomy tone amidst the illuminating whiteness. Reaching the top he then passed by two door-sized mirrors, that reflected the bright light like flashlights. The details of any reflection blinded by the glare. He then entered through two actual doors, that opened onto a large, long white corridor; the red carpet still a guiderail undertow. Pictures hung from the walls lining the way; all giving the impression of history and grandeur, though the walking pace made it impossible to focus the eyes upon any single image. Endless portraits and landscapes, their colours all slightly dulled with time. Over a minute later he then turned the corner into another corridor. Yet more pictures. Thirty seconds later another turn and yet more. As he walked further he paused for the briefest of moments to stare at one of the portraits, more for show than inspection, straightening his tunic once again with his hand as he did so. As if to recover a sense of his own importance amidst the resplendence. He then turned one final corner and entered a room. A large, but business-like room with wooden walls. Yet two more chandeliers, slightly less brilliant than the earlier ones, hanging from the white ornate ceiling. There were two heavy gold plinths stood at the side of the room, on top of which stood two gold statues. The form of which were difficult to work out from the position where he was stood. Then, at the large desk in the centre of the room sat Queen Aglaia. Her dogs: Four, Five and Six, nipping about the table legs, perfectly out of place against the ornamentation. She stood up to greet his arrival.

"I think you have something for me."