Chapter 2: Ascension
"Well, I'm ready."
It was almost noon. Clara had returned to the Mechon wreckage site with a suitcase in one hand, an umbrella in the other, a bag over her other shoulder, and a tear-streaked face from saying goodbye.
Sorean nodded. "Excellent. Then let us depart." He began walking to the north, which appeared to be a dead end.
Clara followed him with a bemused expression on her face. She was confused as to why he was going the wrong way; as far as she was aware, the only way to start climbing the Bionis was southwest of Colony 9.
Once the two reached the northern rock wall, Sorean pressed his hand against a large boulder. A hole appeared in the stone where he had pressed it, revealing that the boulder was covering the entrance to a small passage in the wall.
"Is this a shortcut?" asked Clara.
Sorean chuckled. "Of a sort."
The two walked through the narrow passage. After about five minutes, it opened up into a cavern large enough to fit ten or twelve Defence Force carriers, lit by several electric crystal deposits. In the centre sat a huge grey ship, about the size of a house, shaped like a large grey horizontal teardrop with two lower engines and some sort of three-quarter-halo decoration around the top.
"...whoa." Clara stood still for a moment to take in the sight. "That's...that's a big ship. Wait, so we don't have to walk all the way there? Oh that's such a relief. I was beginning to wonder, actually, since you don't have any supplies on you to support a long journey. So you flew down from the head and stayed in this secret cave?"
"Indeed. This is not the first time we High Entia have had reason to visit the lower colonies in secret." Sorean pressed his hand against the hull of the ship, which caused a ramp to descend and a door to open. The two walked inside.
The first thing that came to Clara's mind was "luxury yacht". The first things to be seen were two royal blue couches with a dark-stained wooden table between them. A second "room" beyond the couches housed a dining table with six thickly-padded chairs, presumably with kitchen implements hidden behind a divider. Visible further beyond this was a staircase, with the pilot's chair just beyond that. Most of the upper halves of the outer walls were windows.
"Okay." She struggled to find a place to put down her luggage that wouldn't taint the masterfully-designed decor, finally settling for just beside the near end table next to the left couch. "I mean...I guess you did say you had a lot of wealth...but really? Well, I guess I can see why you dressed up as some random old guy in just brown. Who wouldn't want to come with you if they knew you had this kind of dosh?"
"Precisely. I did not undertake this search simply to find someone who is attracted by the promise of wealth." Sorean commanded the door to close and walked towards the head of the craft. "I hope you are not afraid of heights." From there, he pressed a single button on the dashboard.
Natural light and a drizzling rainfall suddenly poured into the cave as its holographic roof was temporarily deactivated. Seconds later, a slight trembling heralded the startup of the vessel's engines, which began lifting it straight up into the sky.
Clara stared out the nearest window as she saw Colony 9 in the distance, already small and beginning to shrink rapidly. She didn't know what she was getting herself into, but it had to be better than what she was leaving behind.
Sorean moved towards the staircase. "Now, if you will excuse me, I shall change into something more befitting of my status. Our journey will take several hours; please make yourself at home." He disappeared into the second floor.
Clara was a bit too nervous to touch any of the ornate furniture, so she went over to the right wall and simply looked out across the landscape, appearing to move slowly despite what was surely great speed by now. The rain pattering the windows slowly intensified.
After a few minutes, her stomach rumbled. She had packed a lunch in her bag, so she went to retrieve it - a bag of Red Lettuce and Juicy Broccoli salad, complete with a small box of juice from the broccoli's tomato-like fruit. It was a delicious mix of spicy and sweet flavours. She figured the most proper place to eat it would be at the dining table, so she cautiously pulled out a chair and carefully sat down. It occurred to her that there was a good chance the native fruits and vegetables would be different up at the Bionis' head, so she savoured it as if it might be her last.
With her lunch complete, she mindfully ushered the containers and crumbs into her hand and began looking for a trash bin. There wasn't much familiar in the kitchen area - aside from a single sink, she could only see half a dozen cupboards of varying sizes, none of which had handles.
"Are you looking for something?" Sorean's voice came from behind.
"Yeah, a place to throw out my crumbs." Recalling that he had opened the ship's main door with the palm of his hand, she tried pressing her free hand on the cupboard under the sink, but nothing happened.
"Ah, I must apologise, the technology aboard this vessel does not allow itself to be operated by strangers. Please allow me."
"Okay thanks." Clara backed off.
Sorean reached down to tap the cupboard door with a finger. Instead of opening itself on a hinge like Clara expected, the entire thing slid out like a massive drawer, revealing an empty pure white cylindrical receptacle set into a solid block of material.
Clara scraped the crumbs out of her hand into the bin before her mind brought Sorean's new clothes to her attention: an extraordinarily complex robe, mostly various shades of blue but with a massive amount of silvery detailing. It looked like it would take weeks to make.
She felt like she had to make a comment. "Wow, uh, that's quite...quite a spiffy robe you've got there. Real...real eye-popping. So are robes the fashion in...uh, in Aulcamuth?"
"Robes are indeed popular in Alcamoth at the present time, though I would not say that they currently outshine pants for men."
Clara looked down at her own outfit: a bog-standard cream shirt, jade vest, and ochre pants. She had some skirts and dresses in her luggage, but nothing that came close to Sorean's magnificence. "Um, I think I might have to update my wardrobe once we get there. I'm going to look a bit...cheap next to you and your buddies."
"That will indeed be one of the first orders of business." Sorean looked out the window for estimation purposes. "Perhaps not today, as this weather slows our progress somewhat, but it shall then be the first thing to be done tomorrow."
It had been a while since she'd bought any new clothes. "I can't wait. What else is on the table for the first day?"
Sorean gathered his thoughts for a moment. "The most immediate need is completing the immigration process, but it will not take long at all. Aside from that the situation is fluid, with the first goal being for you to meet the rest of the family and begin becoming acclimated with our culture. Speaking of such, I have one last major piece of information for you."
"Really?" Clara had an interesting thought. "Okay so you've already told me all the bad stuff like dealing with politics, and hidden the good stuff like being rich, so I didn't agree to come with you for the wrong reasons. That means that whatever else you have to say can only be good."
"An interesting piece of intuition," Sorean nodded. "Yes, I do indeed have something to say that would compel even the worst kind of person to accept my offer, rendering them blind to all the cautions and warnings. And it is this: I am of the imperial family."
It took a moment for Clara to register the information. "Y-you're royalty?"
"Correct. My sister, Entirmina, is the Empress of Alcamoth. Unfortunately, she has been found incapable of continuing the royal bloodline, and she cannot simply give me the throne for reasons that you will later learn. Thus, I am her Heirmaster, the father of the heirs. My First Consort, Yumea, is mother of Prince Kallian, who you have seen in his birthday photograph. And you shall be my Second Consort, so we may have a potential heir of mixed heritage, and so we have two children to compete with each other for the throne."
"So...so...so I'm going to be mother of a princess? Or prince?"
"Indeed."
"...woah...that's...uh..." It was a little bit before she could spit out a sentence. "I'm not so sure about that to be honest, since it'll probably mean there's a lot of stuff the kid won't be allowed to do, but really why would I ever say no to that? Oh man. I won't ever need to cook again, will I? Or do laundry or clean the house?"
"If there are any chores you enjoy, I see no reason to disallow you from partaking in them, but no, otherwise all your needs will be taken of. Your only task is to ensure that our child is raised properly."
Clara shook her head in disbelief. "This has been a ridiculous week. Someone I've known for five years betrays me for his own selfish interests, and now someone I've known for five days is taking me up to a secret city for exactly what I want. Crazy."
Sorean thought of something else. "On that note, will you still be using the surname of Grentels?"
She hadn't considered it previously, but the answer was obvious. "No way, I'm not keeping that dick's name. I'm back to Apiar as of this moment."
"It is good to hear you make your choice without hesitation." Sorean decided he'd had enough of conversing while standing up in the kitchen and went to sit on one of the couches. "Come, sit."
Clara hesitantly trotted over and sat on the opposing couch. It was unexpectedly soft for how smooth it looked; it would be a shame to have to stand up again.
"Now," Sorean continued, "we have a bit of time before we arrive at Alcamoth. I'm afraid there's not much in the way of entertainment aboard this vessel, but there are a few ways we can pass the time, if you do not wish to simply continue conversing. For example, you could begin the process of learning our language and alphabet."
"I have to learn a language? You don't speak Common in Alcamuth?" Clara was confused; she saw from the birthday photo that their letters were different, but from how Sorean spoke it didn't sound like Common was a second language.
"We are a bilingual society with a complex history. Long ago, we spoke only in Hightongue and wrote only in Erythscript. As Common united the Homs and Nopon, it eventually became a native tongue of the High Entia as well. However, the people refused to adapt the letterforms of the Homs, and continued to use Erythscript for both languages. In the modern age, our writing systems are much closer than the staunch purists would like to admit, yet it still would be sabotage of popularity to suggest teaching the Homs alphabet in schools."
"So...so you can speak two languages, but you only use one alphabet to write them both?"
"Indeed. Presently, we use Common in our daily lives, with Hightongue reserved for serious matters, though of course the aforementioned purists tout it as often as possible. As a result, all Homs immigrants must learn enough of the language to conduct a conversation in it."
"Well...okay I guess." Clara shrugged. "What's it going to take, like a year? Gives me something to do while I'm waiting for the kid I guess. Might as well get started probably."
"Very well." Sorean leaned forward to open a drawer under the table and extract some flashcards, notebooks, and other learning material. "It is unfortunately uncommon to explicitly teach our language to adults, but we do have some resources available. Let us begin."
It wasn't easy to begin learning a new writing system while still on edge from the thrill of flying to the Bionis' head. Clara's attention kept drifting to the landscape passing by outside as the yacht eventually broke through the rainclouds. Sorean expected as much, and while he did attempt to keep her focused, he avoided blocking her enjoyment of the once-in-a-lifetime journey.
Once the vessel was level with the Bionis' frill, he called it. "That should be enough for now. We will be within sight of Alcamoth soon."
Clara positioned herself to better see outside. "Awesome."
The ship continued to rise beside the rocky range that surrounded Eryth Sea, the sky orange and darkening.
"There it is." Sorean pointed to a bright pinnacle that was now visible from over the wall.
Clara watched as the needle continued to grow before blossoming into a large collection of domes at the bottom, and then vanishing with no ground to speak of below it. She'd read several novels that included floating cities, so she wasn't much surprised to see that Alcamoth was one, but there were a few other things she noticed immediately.
"It's...a lot taller than I expected," she began. "And...are the parts moving?"
"Indeed." Sorean also watched as the sub-domes were slowly changing places with each other. "Every twenty days, the domes that compose the bulk of the city are reorganised such that in the long term, each one feels an equal amount of sun and shade. The only district that remains stationary is the Capital District, which houses the entrance to the imperial palace."
The rest of Eryth Sea became visible, revealing the floating reefs and finally the beaches. Now with line of sight to the city, the ship began moving directly towards it. Clara simply watched the landscape go by, taking in all the unfamiliar flora and fauna that could be picked out at a distance. She didn't bother to ask what anything in particular was - there'd certainly be time for that later.
Eventually, Alcamoth dominated the windows, its bulky yet sleek shape blocking out everything around it. It didn't take long after that for all the darkening sky to disappear, replaced with the walls and ceilings of inside a hangar as the ship slowed down and stopped. Clara bent down to pick up her bag and suitcase once more, excitement building up again.
Sorean stood up and opened the door to reveal that two armed and armoured High Entia had already positioned themselves to flank the ramp, standing to attention.
"Ah, good evening to you both," he began. "Gertel, please take this young lady's belongings to the villa, and inform staff that it is now to be maintained as occupied. Sels, please have a chef sent to the villa and prepare a simple dinner for two there."
"Yes, Your Highness." The guard on the left hurried away.
After taking a moment to process the exchange, Clara carefully handed her things over to the other guard, who also left.
"...the villa?"
"Indeed," Sorean nodded. "The palace is perhaps a bit too vast for a newcomer to cope with whilst adapting to our culture. Limiting yourself to a single dwelling to begin with, while still under the palace's umbrella, should serve you well."
"So we're going there first then?"
"No. We must first meet with the immigration officer as soon as possible. Please follow me." He began walking with a purpose.
Clara followed him as he left the hangar and led her through a series of halls. Almost immediately their path crossed that of a group of three more High Entia guards walking the other way, talking about battle strategy. Trying to carefully glance back at them, she found that they had done the same, ogling at her just as she was them. She turned back forwards with much embarrassment. She tried not to stare at any more of the people they passed, but she could feel that they couldn't help but watch her. It was a lot more uncomfortable than she expected, to arrive in a city of aliens with wings and only one hair colour.
She attempted to make conversation. "Um, how long is this immigration thing going to take?"
"Under normal circumstances, a Homs must demonstrate sufficient knowledge of our city, laws, and culture before they can become a citizen. But existing citizens of sufficient trustworthiness, such as myself, are permitted to accelerate the process to a single form that should take no more than five minutes to complete, under the expectation that they will then act as a mentor for the immigrant for as long as necessary."
"...oh, okay." She couldn't really figure out anything more to say after that; the palace halls and the people within them were stealing her attention too much. Even in the context of not knowing much about the culture, it was evident that everyone in the building was either rich or worked for rich people; enough ornate decorations dotted the halls that with some practice they would no longer look identical, and the occasional window showed nothing but distant landscape at a glance.
After what felt like quite a while, the two arrived at what looked to be an office. One man waited at the front desk, while another could be seen at a desk further back. Given the time of day, it was little surprise that all the other desks were empty.
The front desk man looked up immediately upon sensing their presence. "Ah, good evening, Your Highness. I thought you were away?"
"Good evening, Mr. Kelora," Sorean replied. "I have just now returned, with this young lady in tow. I request an accelerated Homs immigration form."
"Of course, Your Highness." Mr. Kelora motioned to the other man, who was already fishing around in a filing cabinet. After about fifteen seconds the form was procured and passed to the front. "Please fill in all of the requested information, madam."
"Um, okay, mister." Clara carefully took a pen from the pot on the desk and began checking all the boxes.
ACCELERATED HOMS IMMIGRATION FORM
Full name: Clara Apiar - - - Age: 25 - - - Birthday: 07 / Jul - - - Birthplace: Colony 9
Gender: F - - - Eyes: Brown - - - Hair: Brown, curly - - - Height: 164cm - - - Weight: 62kg
Occupation: None
Reason for immigrating: to be second consort of Sorean Antiqua
Immigrant's signature:
Accelerant's signature:
Official's signature:
Date:
She finished with her signature, followed by Sorean placing his signature as the accelerant and Mr. Kelora as the official, who also dated it and stamped it.
"One moment please." Mr. Kelora got up and took the completed form into a back room. After about fifty seconds he returned with a full-size envelope, which he handed to Clara. "Congratulations, Miss Apiar, you are now a citizen of Alcamoth. Here is your immigration package. Please return here during the day at your earliest convenience so our full staff may complete your identity documents."
"Uh, than-ksyou." She wanted to just say "thanks" but accidentally clunked into "thank you" midway through. She could feel herself blush in embarrassment.
"It is now time to go to the villa." Sorean motioned for her to follow as he turned to leave the office.
About fifteen seconds after starting down the hall, an adolescent boy turned a corner to come face-to-face with them. Clara immediately recognised him as Sorean's son, though his name escaped her at the moment. He certainly looked like a prince - he strode as if he owned the place and almost didn't react to nearing a collision, expecting the other party to get out of his way. But after a split second, he realised who it was and stopped in his tracks.
"...oh, hello Father." The tone of voice implied he knew that Sorean had returned but didn't expect to run into him at this very moment. He then turned to look at Clara with almost a critical eye.
Sorean nodded back. "Hello, Kallian. This is Clara, newly immigrated from Colony 9. She shall be my Second Consort."
"...I see." Kallian continued to give Clara a look-over, as if he was unsure how to interact with her, or he was busy suppressing some inappropriate thought that came to mind.
Clara wasn't really sure what to make of the reaction. She decided she should initiate. "It's nice to meet you, Prince Kallian." She extended a hand.
Kallian remained still for just long enough for Clara to consider that High Entia didn't do handshakes, but he did eventually take it with a firm grasp.
"How shall I refer to you?" he asked.
"Um...Just Clara is fine." She didn't know anything else that made sense.
Sorean stepped in. "Once the marriage is complete, you will refer to her as either Mother or the Second Consort. But until then, her choice of address will do fine."
"...Very well. I shall see you tomorrow." Kallian stared for one last moment before turning around and walking back the other direction, giving off the impression that he was scurrying back to his room to have a good long think about things.
Clara watched him retreat. "...He didn't seem too impressed."
Sorean frowned a bit. "He is of two minds. As an authority-defying adolescent, he is interested in Homs and their culture solely to spite his mother's distaste for such things. But he now knows with no doubt that his time as an only child is limited, and he is loathe to lose such privilege." He paused for a moment. "He will respect you, of that I am certain; he understands the importance of these matters. But I would not be surprised if he begins this relationship by marginalising your position in his life, ignoring your presence whenever it is convenient. Whether you should push back or step away, I do not know. In the end, the most important relationship is that between him and your future child."
"Hmmm." She tilted her head as she thought. "I'd like to know more about him. The things he likes, what he does for fun, that kind of stuff."
"That is a reasonable desire, but I do not believe now is the time."
"Oh, okay."
It felt somewhat of a shorter walk through the halls of sameness before the path became what appeared to be a dead end. Sitting in the dead end was a raised disc on the floor and another disc floating a decent ways above it, with a faint green beam connecting the two.
"This is a transporter." Sorean extended his arm towards the apparatus. "We use them to cross vast distances in an instant, allowing us to traverse the hovering reefs of Eryth Sea and connect distant segments of the city for convenient passage. This transporter will lead us to the entrance of the villa. All you must do is stand within it and wish to pass through it."
Clara was working to comprehend all this information. "Uh, so...so how do I do that?"
"Everyone is different in their preferred method. I recommend you simply try different thoughts until you succeed."
"Well...okay." She cautiously stepped up onto the pad, to the side of the central beam. All right, so...let's do it. Put me through.
A blur of light green ether particles flashed across her vision, obscuring her view. It only lasted for a second before clearing, revealing that she was now in a completely different hallway. It was a bit unnerving.
She presumed she had to step off the pad so Sorean could follow, but he appeared alongside without her needing to.
"I must say you're a natural," he said with a half-smile. "Some Homs have quite the difficulty with activating transporters, and it is a difficult thing to teach. Tell me, how is your ether affinity?"
"Uhm...I'm not really sure. I mean, I think I'm pretty normal? I never had any medical problems with ether or anything. Oh, I do know an ether art, Light Heal. It's nice for small bumps and bruises."
"That is sufficient for the moment."
Sorean continued to lead Clara forward. It didn't take long for the walls and ceiling to disappear, opening the path to outside.
The first thing that could be seen was a massive seashell-like structure, several storeys high and complex in design, surrounded by foliage and an incomplete glassy dome. The skybridge that crossed the expanse between the building and the palace appeared open to the sky, and also allowed a vast panorama of the rest of the city below.
Clara was not afraid of heights, but she still felt a small pang of fear as she looked down past the bridge's complete lack of railings. The lights shining in the dark domes below made them look like sparkling fishbowls.
Sorean did not press her to continue walking. "You need not fear falling from any structure in Alcamoth. Only if your mind expresses intent and desire to fall can you pass through the invisible safety fields that surround every ledge." He demonstrated by leaning himself against the invisible wall of force, nothing but a soft crackle of white energy keeping him from tumbling over the edge.
"I'll...uh, take your word for it." Finished with observing the skyline, she continued walking towards the spire that was certainly the villa. It had to be at least seven storeys tall - what could she possibly use all that space for? On the other hand, it seemed oddly narrow. Maybe there was only one or two rooms per floor.
As she stepped into the dome, she looked across the greenery placed in front of the villa's entrance. The trees looked like they came from the lower regions of the Bionis as opposed to Eryth Sea, but she'd never seen these species of flowers before - blue, white, and yellow petals planted in abstract circular patterns.
"These flowers are beautiful. What are they?" She bent down to take a closer look, but something had a very strong smell that was a bit unpleasant to take in.
Sorean paused to recall. "The white flowers are Ether Roses, native to the marshes. The blue are Evening Hibiscuses, a popular breed. Finally, the yellow flowers are Mystic Dahlias, the official flower of the imperial family."
Clara ran her fingers over one of the dahlias, its ball-like petal formation just the right size to fit into her hand. "You know, I've always liked gardening. Never got much chance to do anything significant though. Could I do something with this plot?"
"These gardens are yours to do with what you please." Sorean glanced around. "However, they may be too large for a single person's efforts. If your desire is to set up a specific breed or pattern, you may be better suited with offering your plans to the imperial gardeners."
A thoughtful nod. "I guess that makes sense." She continued to circle the gardens, determining that it was the Ether Roses giving off the strong scent. She decided that they would be the first to go, replacing them with something else white that didn't smell as powerful. Or maybe it would be better to start the whole thing from scratch.
Sorean let her wander for a few minutes before edging back into her attention. "Perhaps you would be better served waiting for daylight to form any opinions of the gardens."
"Yeah I guess, it is getting pretty dark." She suddenly realised that she was rather hungry. "So, uh, where's this dinner you said was being made?"
"It is being prepared in the villa's kitchen. Let us not keep it waiting for too long."
Clara nodded and turned to walk through the villa's front entrance. But while she didn't know what to expect, it wasn't an open entryway leading to nothing but a completely empty room, and there didn't seem to be any way to progress to the upper floors. The only feature inside was a stone pillar in the centre of a small pool of water.
"...uh...where's...where's anything?" She looked around in confusion. The back of her mind suggested that it was a trap, a prison for gullible Homs.
Sorean walked towards what appeared to be three tapestries hung on the back wall. As he approached the middle one, it faded away to reveal another transporter behind it.
"...oh." Clara scratched her head. "Man, everything around here is so...well, a bit overdone. I mean, you could just have a door and some stairs, but instead it's a transporter behind a fake wall inside a...fake foyer."
Sorean nodded contemplatively. "Complexity is a natural consequence of high social status. For better or for worse, possessing much wealth unwaveringly leads to equally-impressive methods of displaying such wealth."
"Yeah I guess." She realised that she'd been repeating herself quite a bit over the past few hours. It made sense somewhat; she was regurgitating the same phrases over and over again to ground her mind from being too shellshocked with everything else it was being exposed to.
The newly-exposed transporter had a blue colour as opposed to the greenish one that led up to the villa. Clara carefully walked into it and, after a moment, passed through it.
The instant her eyes started showing her what was inside, she froze solid.
The first things that jumped to attention were the crimson carpets, trimmed in gold tassels and placed satisfyingly evenly around the circular room. A free-standing fireplace sat in the centre, essentially a circular pit filled with flames of no obvious source. Four arced benches surrounded the pit, each one made of a different wood and padded with a slightly different shade of red. A pair of full-length mirrors could be seen to the right, presumably as part of the doors to a coat closet, whereas on the left was the foot of a wide staircase that spiralled upwards around the outer wall, its carpeted steps and glossy banister both pure white. The floor was tiled with ochre six-pointed stars. No fewer than eight tables dotted the room, each one topped with a selection of statuettes and other trinkets, mostly gold-coloured.
Clara couldn't begin to guess how expensive this single room could be. Not even the most eccentric nutters of Colony 9 would even bother with this kind of decor, given that it would assuredly make them a prime target for the next Mechon attack. She started to wander around in a bit of a stupor, entranced by the spectacle yet paranoid of touching anything. Everything about the foyer seemed far too above her.
Sorean remained motionless on the transporter pad, allowing Clara to explore at her own pace.
After several minutes of just staring, she finally ambled up the stairs to the second floor, revealing a sitting room of equal opulence. Over a dozen uniquely ornate chairs and couches dotted the room alongside several tables, each a pleasing sky blue with highly specular bronze trimming. Three large and fully-stocked bookshelves bordered the room, made of perfectly smooth wood stained an almost clay-like colour. The thick white carpet gave the impression of sitting amongst the clouds.
In complete and utter disbelief, Clara fell forward onto the carpet, which turned out to be so thick and soft that it could be slept on. She was done. The kitchen and bedroom could be an empty husk for all she cared; it would still be the most lavish and luxurious building that any Homs had ever set foot in.
She could hear Sorean ascending the stairs up to the floor above. Reluctantly pushing herself back up to her feet, she followed.
The third floor was the kitchen and dining area, with one side filled with cabinets while the other housed a dining table to seat eight. The walls and cabinets were painted a faint yellow, while the table, chairs, and counters were an earthy orange, and both were accentuated with piercing black details. An invitingly tasty smell filled the air, and it didn't take long to find the source: a pair of dinner plates on the counter, stocked with what looked to be a cut of meat, a pile of potatoes, and some sort of long beans. Standing behind the counter, pouring gravy onto the potatoes, was a chef. He was wearing a pleasing coffee-coloured apron and hairnet, with two similar nets wrapped around his wings.
"Ah, Your Highness." The chef nodded in Sorean's direction. "Your timing is perfect; dinner shall be served in moments."
Sorean nodded back. "Thank you, Argen. Let us sit, Clara."
Still having trouble wrapping her head around the immense affluence of the villa, and knowing that there was still probably about five more floors to see, Clara clumsily pulled out a chair from the round dining table and sat down. She stared at the elaborate cutlery already laid out, silver in colour but with a tinge of orange, probably in total worth more than her entire suitcase.
Two minutes later, the chef placed the completed plates on the table, as well as two tall glasses of milk. "Dinner is served, Your Highness and guest." He bowed and stepped back behind the counter to begin cleaning up, expecting no thanks.
Clara had forgotten how hungry she was ever since she stepped into the villa's first floor. While it took a moment to get over her reluctance to touch the pristine utensils, once she began eating she couldn't stop. Everything tasted both surprisingly familiar and distinctly new.
Sorean, also quite enjoying his first prepared meal in a few days, waited until the plates were mostly cleaned before he initiated more conversation. "How do you like your villa so far?"
"Oh man." Clara hastily swallowed and started spilling words everywhere. "It's...I mean...uh...I don't even know. It's like, why? I don't...okay." She rubbed her eyes for a moment. "It's absolutely crazy. I'm used to a world where the average guy has a house with one room and one bedroom. Maybe two if he has a family. But even then those houses are...like, smaller than the first two floors here. What am I gonna need all this space for? Won't most of it just sit unused if only one person lives here?"
"Do not underestimate the ability to expand into a larger space. I am confident you will grow into your new environs, once you become accustomed to them."
"...if you say so." She was about to take on another mouthful when something odd came to mind. "Okay so hang on. You said that this whole two-consorts thing was supposed to be like two half-sisters raising stepchildren together, or something. But how's that going to be the case if I'm in this villa and the other consort...uh, isn't?"
"Ah, your perceptiveness is impressive." Sorean paused for a moment to compose his answer. "This villa exists for the purpose of allowing the Second Consort to back away from the pressures of imperial life should they so choose, especially in the early days before they are comfortable with their life in Alcamoth. You may move into the palace proper when you are ready, or you may remain with a more peripheral life, and you may continue to move back and forth as you see fit. Of course, once you become a mother, you would do well to choose a residence and hold there for some time, for the sake of the child."
"So is there a timeline for that? I mean obviously it'll be a little while, since I have to learn the language and stuff first."
"There is indeed a loose series of events set out, contingent on how quickly you take to your studies. First, you must learn Erythscript and Hightongue, and in doing so become accustomed to life in Alcamoth in general. Once you are sufficiently acclimatised to our city and culture, you must then undergo additional tutelage on imperial matters, so you are prepared to marry into the royal family. There may be some overlap, but all told, these two goals are expected to take a year and a half each. Therefore, I expect our child to be born three or four years from now."
"...huh, that's a bit of a while, isn't it." Clara was a little downtrodden at having the years spelled out - she'd be 28 or 29 by that time - but she couldn't say she was all that surprised. "Well, what'd you say a bit ago? That Mr. Antiqua wasn't big on taking back his word? And you've already committed hard on telling Kallian, so I don't think you'll be cheesing out like that last guy did. All right, I think I can wait."
"I am glad to hear it."
The rest of the dinner was finished in silence. Once Clara was done, Chef Argen quickly took the empty dishes away.
"Uh, thank you, um...sir." She couldn't remember his name. "It was delicious. The...er...I'd appreciate knowing what it was."
The chef seemed a bit taken aback, but replied quickly. "Of course. Today's dinner was Ekidno flank alongside Airy Potatoes and Longhorn Beans."
Clara didn't recognise any of the given foods by name, but that was of no importance. "I see. Well, put that on the list of stuff I like. Good start."
"It shall be done," Sorean said. "You will always have the option of making your own meals, but should you not wish to on any given day, you may summon a chef at any time." He indicated a blue button on the side of one of the cabinets.
Clara nodded. "I'll probably end up feeding myself for a bit just because I'm used to it, but awesome."
"Now, let us finish your tour." Sorean stood up and directed her back towards the stairs.
"Okay." Satisfyingly full, she walked up to the next floor.
The fourth floor was filled with a similar assortment of tables and seating as the second floor, though in shades of green and silver that make it look vaguely like an artificial forest. It also had a distinctly different feel owing to the accoutrements within: instead of decorations and trinkets, it housed a radio and a pair of large screens. The stairs ended here, with three transporters placed across the opposite wall.
"So this is the living room?" guessed Clara, feeling a bit more at ease. "What are these screens, eye-radios? I've read sci-fi novels with that kind of technology, but we haven't been able to figure it out for real yet."
Sorean chuckled. "Indeed, one of these monitors is connected to the visual spectrum of mass media, with access to every one of Alcamoth's five hundred channels. While television, as it is known, will certainly be a valuable resource in your learning of our culture, I suggest you not become too enamoured with the concept."
"Cool. So what about the other one?" She approached the smaller screen to see it had a keyboard placed in front of it. "Some sort of advanced typewriter?"
"Of a sort. It is a computer, a device that trivialises many tedious functions, such as writing letters or performing calculations."
"Interesting." Clara wandered around for another minute or two before coming to a stop in front of the three transporters. "Okay so let me guess: These lead to the bedrooms?"
"Correct. The central transporter leads to the master bedroom and master bathroom, while the right one goes to the child's bedroom and bathroom, and the one on the left is access to the balcony level. You must mentally select which destination you intend to access in order to utilise a transporter of multiple destinations." Sorean nodded in her direction. "And this is where I leave you for today, so you may explore the final few rooms by yourself, and prepare for the events of tomorrow."
"...oh." It made a degree of sense; bedrooms and such were theoretically more private than kitchens and sitting rooms. "Well, okay then. When does tomorrow start?"
"I suggest you be ready for nine o'clock. I will come by to collect you. I do not recommend you enter the palace on your own for the time being, as you are far from being recognised by the guards as a trustworthy individual."
"Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Indeed. May you have a fulfilling rest, Clara." Sorean smiled as he turned to walk back down the stairs.
Clara was now left alone in her new house, assuming that the chef had left once he was done cleaning up. A childish compulsion to simply run around through the empty rooms rose up, but she quashed it with the desire to see the remaining rooms; there would be time to enjoy herself later. After taking a moment to remember where they went, she picked the transporter on the left first.
The transporter's other end led to a small empty room with a hole in the wall that led out to the balcony at the top of the villa. She stepped outside to see that it faced the palace and was about eight or nine floors up.
It's nice to have a balcony, but having it face the palace is a bit of a waste. You can't really see any landscape from it.
A bit disappointed, she returned to the three transporters and moved over to the one on the right. As she stepped onto the pad, an odd thought was planted into her mind that pressured her to decide whether she wanted to transport to the bedroom or bathroom; it was a little uncomfortable to control her mind with the artificial thought dominating it, but after a moment she chose to see the bedroom first.
The child's bedroom was completely empty, with nothing but pleasing bluish-lavender tones across its carpet and walls that would suit either gender. Clara couldn't say she was too surprised, given that its occupant had yet to exist, and found a bit of excitement in potentially being allowed to decorate it herself. Transporting directly to the bathroom, she found slightly less bareness, though this was mostly because it had all the necessary equipment installed; the room itself was a similarly blank slate, with not even anything more than an off-white across all its surfaces.
She then moved to the transporter that took her to the master bathroom. It was much more ornately decorated; everything was coloured an opulent pearl, while the trims were amethyst and very determined to not hold a straight edge, winding curves in every direction that almost made it seem like nothing was flat. Much of the wall behind the sink was pure mirror, the rest of the wall filled with cabinets and counter space. The circular claw-footed bathtub was featurelessly iridescent, almost like a hollow pearl, with the brass showerheads and curtain rods held up with nothing but invisible force. Even the toilet looked exceedingly expensive and overdone, with a cushioned velvet seat, an almost shag carpet-like lid covering, and a tank suspended up near the ceiling.
Stunned once more by what she had been plopped into, Clara jitteringly began opening cabinets and investigating the contents. The amount of just plain stuff was mind-boggling - sure, she expected to see a bunch of makeup, shampoo, perfume, and so on, but not in dozens of brands and scores of colours. Even the toothpaste came in three or four flavours. She was never much of a primpy person, preferring to be practical most of the time, but she could tell she'd be spending quite a bit of time experimenting with what was surely an infinite supply of cosmetics. After all, if she was to be interacting with rich people from now on, she'd have to learn to fit in.
After spending five minutes working up the courage to desecrate the toilet, and another five minutes basking in the oddly dignified sensation that followed, she finally moved on to the master bedroom. It wasn't really all that late, but she suddenly felt very tired from the day of travelling and sightseeing, and expected that once she had a look around she'd just go right to sleep. It was fitting to be the last unexplored room.
It felt like being suspended in a cloudless sky. Everything was some shade or other of blue; the walls faded from the faint blue of horizon at the bottom to the deep blue of zenith at the top, the bedspread was a watery aqua, and the desk, dresser, wardrobe doors, chairs, and end tables were all a blue-tinged silver. The only thing out of place was her luggage, carefully placed beside the desk chair. Oddly enough, the room didn't give off the same feeling of extreme opulence as the other furnished rooms - maybe it was a little bit toned down on purpose, or her mind was just becoming desensitised to it.
Once she was done looking around, Clara got ready to go to bed, trading the clothes she was wearing with the plaid pajamas in her suitcase. She still took great care to not touch anything in the room, feeling terrible about turning off the lights, pushing aside the bedcurtains, and disturbing the covers. It felt like she was squatting in someone else's luxury hotel room more than anything.
She still had trouble believing that, as far as she was concerned, she had basically won the biggest lottery in history.