Chapter 4: Introductions

Lunch was some sort of two-fruit salad that had been prepared just as Clara and Sorean returned to the villa. They continued to practice memorisation of the Erythscript alphabet in between mouthfuls. Some letters were easy - the B, C, M, P, Q, and X all looked reasonably similar to their Common counterparts. But the J happened to not be one of the several letters that resembled it, and the I and O were very easy to mix up due to appearing similar when mirrored. So far, it was a novel challenge as opposed to a boring slog.

Once lunch was over, Sorean returned to the day's business. "As you know, I have been attending to various duties while you have been undergoing your makeover this morning. Of most immediate relevance is that I have made appointments for you to meet the captain of the guard and the empress. In between those two appointments, we shall have time to complete your identity documents. And aside from dinner with the imperial family, that shall be it for the day."

"Okay then." Clara was a little worried at meeting the two bigshots; her mind rumbled with the fear of doing something wrong by mistake and being kicked out for it.

"We shall first meet with Ilo Theros, captain of the guard for a hundred and thirty years, in about fifteen minutes. This is merely to make his acquaintance; while I am sure he will have something to say concerning your safety and security, you have no obligations aside from your presence."

"Sounds good." Shouldn't be much different than...uh, than captain what's-his-face in Colony 9. Theodore? Or was it Thomas? Ah whatever it doesn't matter anymore.

With nothing else left to do, the pair walked back into the palace proper, Clara carrying the envelope of identity documents and legal papers so she wouldn't have to come back for them afterwards. She was starting to recognise parts of hallways, though there was still long stretches of mystery in between.

It was easy to tell this newly-explored part of the palace belonged to the military; the proportion of guards and soldiers to other people in the halls was noticeably higher, and the tension of upholding the chain of command could be felt in the lack of casual conversation. It felt like everyone who passed by was casting a critical eye on the new Homs, as if they wanted to commit her appearance to memory.

Sorean approached a door, its only identifying feature the emblem blazed across it, and gave it a solid knock. Only a few seconds passed before it faded away, revealing the office behind it: a practical arrangement of desk, chairs, cabinets, high-tech devices, and medals. The large man sitting behind the desk sure looked like an army veteran; his blue clothes were part robe and part armour, a scar ran down the left side of his face from ear to mouth, and the wrinkles in his forehead amplified the fierceness in his eyes.

"On time as always, Your Highness." His voice came across as trying very hard to be cordial instead of gruff, and his face was similarly attempting to smile in defiance of life experience.

"Naturally." Sorean extended his hand towards the man. "Clara, meet Captain Theros."

Theros stood up, walked around the desk, and extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you." The subsequent handshake scared her; she could feel he could crush all her fingers if he wished.

As Sorean remained standing by the door, Theros invited her to sit down in the guest chair as he returned to his own chair. "Now I'm sorry to bore you, but as part of meeting you, it's my duty to inform you of the less glamourous facets of living here in Alcamoth while preparing to become a Second Consort. If you may hold your questions until the end of my address, it would be appreciated. Understood?"

"Okay."

Theros nodded as he began his speech.

"It is an unfortunate reality that there exist many people who do not approve of the nature of the position of Second Consort, and it cannot be understated that a lone Homs in Alcamoth is a very real target for discrimination, hate, and violence on behalf of those who so blindly believe in pure-blood superiority. As captain of the guard, it is my duty to ensure your safety for as long as you live within the confines of the palace. Of course, I cannot do this alone, and I have very many other duties to attend to. And so, I must ask that you comply to the restrictions I set. You are to remain inside the palace walls when not in your villa, your existence hidden from the populace, for the time being. In addition, you are not to wander the palace alone; you must be accompanied by myself or His Highness Sorean, as well as anyone else he informs me is sufficiently trustworthy. Even within our ranks, acceptance of Homs is not complete, and I am sad to say that traitors are not unheard of. Do not trust anyone who you do not know, regardless of whatever authority they may claim to have, unless myself or His Highness states otherwise. I know this sounds rather harsh and suffocating, but several times in history have promising Second Consorts been killed by extremists before they could even produce one heir, and in today's day and age we have no excuse to allow it to happen."

"Of course, leaving you draped under such an ironclad blanket will do you no good in the long run. Therefore, I am currently looking for a party of trustworthy men, a group of three or four, to form your own personal cadre. They will undergo a most rigid screening process with the finalists handpicked by His Highness himself. I expect this process to take a few weeks, and certainly no more than a month. It is our hope that while they protect you from the evils of our world, you will grow to see them as friends. Once your cadre is formed, you will be given permission to traverse the palace with no one but them alongside you, and not long after that, the city outside the palace."

"Have I made myself clear?"

"...uh...well..." Clara didn't really want to get any deeper into the subject, but it seemed like a bad idea to not do so at this time. "Is...is it really that bad? I mean, I can get you might be exaggerating a bit to be safe, and that's fine, but...several times in history? I mean okay how long's that history? Is it thin or dense? When was the last time someone got killed?"

"More recently than we would like to admit." Theros took a deep breath and stared at the far wall for a moment. "Cassandra was a gift from the Bionis. A traveller from Colony 7, she devoted her life towards reaching and exploring the Bionis' head. She was starstruck by discovering Alcamoth, and naturally assumed it was some sort of paradise. But she found nothing but disdain and hatred inside, the people giving her no respect or hospitality. It was pure chance that the imperial family found her before it was too late and took her in, deciding her coming to Alcamoth was no random event, and began grooming her to be the next Second Consort. Her prospective husband very quickly fell in love with her, setting the stage for a fruitful relationship. Yet mere months later, she was slain by terrorists in a suicidal attack on her villa. Some say that the heartbreak still lingers over the palace to this day."

It was a harrowing story, and the level of detail suggested to Clara that it didn't happen very long ago at all. Her optimism took a hefty hit; if it had only taken a few months for this Cassandra to be killed, the necessary three or four years before she'd be ready now seemed like an eternity.

Theros tried to calm the nerves. "I sense you are nervous about the historical bloodshed of your position. It is only natural. But rest assured we will spare no expense in the fight against bigotry and racism. You may not yet be married into the imperial family, but we will protect you with equal importance and ferocity." He paused to consider if there was anything else on his mind. "I believe that is all I have to say. I wish you luck."

"...um, okay, thanks." She slowly stood up and walked past Sorean out the door.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Do not fear for your safety. The incident Captain Theros spoke of sparked an overhaul in imperial security. Such an attack would never succeed today."

Clara was not convinced; she could tell his voice was a little hollow and regretful, and strongly suspected that Cassandra was his previous attempt at a Second Consort.

The next half hour was quite boring. Returning to the presently-fully-staffed immigration office, Clara had her picture taken and body scanned from several angles, with her mugshot and biological details being added to her identity documents. Sitting still while being virtually poked and prodded all over gave her far too much time to think about what she had just learned, sprouting reluctance and paranoia all over her mind.

Once the process was over and she left the office, she felt she had to make her feelings known. "I'm really worried now. Yeah I know I'm probably safe, but it's still crushing my head to know there's going to be bad guys after me."

Sorean nodded slowly as he slowed the pace back to the villa, where the documents would be left before heading to the Audience Chamber. "A rare danger is no less of a danger; only the foolhardy would not be concerned. But there is an ebb and flow to the ire of our detractors, and we appear to be on the verge of a fortunate time: transgressions against the empire are on an increasingly downward trend. And- ah, your timing is impeccable, Yvonne."

Leaning against the right wall of the hallway was a woman who looked somewhere in her fifties. She stood out from the people around her for several reasons. Firstly, she was a Homs; her hair was a brilliant red, shaped into a long braid and wound around her right arm all the way up to her wrist. Secondly, she was dressed quite unusually, with a collection of metallic trinkets hanging off every part of her vibrant green robe. Finally, perched on her round face were a pair of glasses with massive silver-framed lenses, large, thick, and tinted purple.

Clara's immediate reaction was that this Yvonne looked extremely out of place; she belonged more at a flea market or fortune-teller's hut than in a royal palace. As a result, she was pretty confused when Sorean addressed her with familiarity.

"I presume you wish to meet Clara, my future Second Consort?" he said.

Yvonne smiled almost mischievously as she stood up with some exertion. "Of course, Your Highness." She approached Clara and extended her hand. "It is most agreeable to meet you in the present, miss Apiar."

Clara shook the hand, a straight face trying to hide her bafflement. How does she know my last name already? What does she mean "in the present"? Why wasn't I told there were other Homs here?

"I am sure you have many questions," Yvonne continued. "And I could answer them...if luck were to smile upon us. You see, I am the imperial seer. Glimpses of the future strike me like lightning from a cloudless sky, delivering knowledge that me and my ancestors have used to protect the imperial family since unrecorded history. Sometimes, I must rush to impart my insight before it is too late, but other times I am forced to keep quiet to avoid interrupting a bright future." A poignant pause. "It has been nice to make your acquaintance, but I must be off...I have many things to do. May I continue to see you in my visions for years to come." The seer slowly turned and walked away.

Clara was left highly confused. "Um...so...the empress puts stock in the idea of a seer?"

"You are dubious, and rightly so," Sorean concluded. "It is indeed difficult to believe that a single Homs bloodline possesses the power of future sight, and has maintained it over countless millennia. But to attribute the seers' success at predicting future events to mere luck is even more challenging." He predicted her next question. "It is unlikely you will see much of the seer over your time in Alcamoth. They tend to be highly reclusive, revealing their visions to none but the empress, and only when necessary. But I sense she has already given you a positive future merely by seeking out your acquaintance."

Clara nodded carefully. The idea that the future could be foreseen bothered her, but she figured (or rather hoped) that within a week she'd forget that a seer existed.

There wasn't much time to dwell on the subject. After returning the papers to the villa, there was only a few minutes of downtime before the duo had to set out again, this time for the Audience Chamber to meet the empress.

"We are in a unique situation," Sorean said. "Normally, prospective Second Consorts are to the emperor or empress of the time, and having one's foot in such door before arriving in Alcamoth allows the bypassing of many formalities. But as I am merely the Heirmaster, we do not have that luxury to begin with. As a result, your introduction to Empress Entirmina must be as a Homs citizen would seek an audience: under strict and formal conditions."

I guess that makes sense. "Okay. So I guess I'll have to act all stiff and stuff? Look straight ahead, speak only when spoken to, that sort of thing?"

"In a sense." He extracted a folded piece of paper from his robe, which he opened into a perfectly smooth sheet and presented to her. "I have taken the liberty of penning a script for you. I suggest you follow it to the letter. Entirmina is just and will excuse honest mistakes, but any aides and ministers who happen to be present may be less forgiving."

Clara took the script and gave it a look-over. It was nice and short, suggesting the meeting would take maybe two or three minutes. Normally she hated to be told what to say, but this was one case where she recognised it was an advantage.

"Do not worry about this becoming a common occurrence," Sorean continued. "After the initial meeting, it is the empress's choice of whether to treat you with familiarity. I fully expect you to be on first-name terms very shortly."

It felt simultaneously giddy and nerve-wracking to realise that she was trying to befriend an empress on pretty much her first day in the city. It would probably be hard to keep a straight face during the whole process.

"Can we, uh, get going then? I don't want to think about this for too long."

"By all means."

The two returned to the palace. It quickly became clear to Clara that she was being led into a more public-facing area, with wider halls, higher ceilings, and even more elaborate decorations. Upon reaching the Great Hall, she unconsciously stopped for a moment to stare across the massive room and its brilliant architecture; Sorean had to gently take her wrist and manually restart her movement towards the transporter at the rear.

The Audience Chamber looked no less impressive, with its glassy stairs and lustrous trims, acting as a very powerful distraction from the task at hand. It was however not difficult to register that the carpet leading to the throne at the end of the hall was lined with very stern-looking guards that could probably bench-press an Armu, most focused straight ahead but some staring directly at her.

Heavily distracted by all the new visuals, Clara almost didn't notice that Sorean had stopped beside her, and had to awkwardly catch herself to not walk any farther forward. Just before she could parse anything else, someone spoke.

"Greetings, madam. What brings you here today?" It was a powerful, refined voice that gave off the impression that this person was not to be crossed.

Clara found her focus and aimed it at the throne in front of her, a collection of tall golden crystal-like prisms. Seated inside the open ring was a woman who looked to be in her sixties, wearing a complex robe of vibrant blue with golden trimming. Her waist-length hair was collected into dozens of tiny braids, some of which wound around the ornate crimson tiara of spiral designs placed on her head. Being seated made her wings seem extra large, almost like they didn't belong on someone of her size.

After staring for a few seconds, she snapped to her senses, looked at the top of the script, and started carefully reading. "Greetings, Your Majesty. I seek nothing but to make an acquaintance, on the grounds of striving to marry into your family as Second Consort to Heirmaster Sorean."

The empress nodded and almost smiled, as if she had known so already but was happy to hear it from the source. "Then well-met to you, prospective consort. I am Empress Entirmina Antiqua, first daughter of Delus and Verila, and holder of this throne for two hundred and twenty-eight years. What is your name?"

Clara saw that the script gave her a choice of two sentences, and picked the one that didn't involve reciting her parents' names. "My parents named me Clara Apiar twenty-five years ago."

"Very well, Madam Apiar. I welcome you to Alcamoth and your new life among us, and you have my blessing to proceed in your journey." Entirmina tilted her head a bit and raised her eyebrows, suddenly giving off a more personable vibe. "I invite you to dinner tonight. I look forward to hearing all about my future sister-in-law."

The script did not account for a dinner invitation. Clara's mouth twitched for a moment as her mind changed gears. "I would be...delighted to accept."

"Excellent. I shall see you there. Have a fine afternoon, Madam Apiar."

"Thank you." Clara stood still for a moment wondering how to break off; it felt like a bowing situation, but she didn't have to do so on entry so probably not. Was it safe to just turn around? Sorean appeared to be doing just that, so she followed suit. Not hearing any gasps of offence or mumbles of disgust, she started walking alongside him back out of the hall.

Only upon reaching the Great Hall did she realise the worst was over and finally exhale. Woah, that was harrowing. She went off-script on purpose, to judge how I'd react. But I think we're good now.

Sorean seemed to read her mind. "I had my suspicions that the empress might force a bit of improvisation your way. She does have certain...mischievous tendencies at times. In any case, that was quite a successful first impression. And to our luck, no others of importance were present to sour the moment. Everything we have done so far today has gone very well."

Well the day's not over yet. "So it's a few hours before this dinner then? Anything special I have to do to get ready?"

"No. Our daily meals are just that: not accompanied by any special rituals or expectations. You will need nothing but an appetite."

"Great. I need to just sit down and rest my head for a bit. I'm guessing it'll be at six-ish?"

"At six precisely. I will come to the villa and collect you with ample time to spare."

"Well, I guess we're heading back there then."

After a day of being focused on by so many strangers, it was a relief for Clara to just be alone for a while, pacing around the villa and trying out every seat. She took the radio from the fourth floor and carried it around as she wandered, listening to a news channel to get a feel for current events: rumours about taxes being raised, complaints that kids weren't being taught enough math, celebrities doing celebrity things. It was all surprisingly normal-sounding; if she could take the names of people and places out of the equation, it could be passed off as news from Colony 9.

Once she was done with the news, she tuned into a station that was playing classical music and considered what to do next. The bookshelves didn't appear to contain anything written in the Common alphabet, and without Sorean present there wasn't much she could do on the language-learning front. She couldn't try out the computer for similar reasons; the keyboard was not only in Erythscript, but the keys were in a completely different layout than the typewriters in Colony 9 she knew how to use. It also felt like a bad time to explore the television - maybe after dinner.

After a significant amount of pondering, she hit upon an idea - write a letter to her parents. She had told them before she left that she'd try to write but there could be no guarantees; now that everything was going smoothly, it was the perfect opportunity.

Clara settled into the desk on the fourth floor and quickly found paper, envelopes, and fancy pens. After spending some time considering what she'd already told her parents, and what she might or might not be allowed to say about Alcamoth and the imperial family, she began writing.

Hi Mum and Dad! I'm excited to be able to write to you so soon, I thought it might be a while before I could find out a way to do it.

I've only been in the city for a day so far, but it's absolutely incredible - it's like a tropical paradise up here. The food is great, the people are excited to see me, and I've been given a whole new wardrobe! I wish you could come and visit, but security's so tight it'd never be allowed. Besides I wouldn't be able to get you out of here with a crowbar!

Sorean is a bit distant, but I think it's just because he's been busy getting things ready for me. He seems to be really looking out for me, giving me a lot of what I want as well as what I need. And I don't remember if I've already told you this, but he already has a son. His name is Kallian and he's your typical reluctant teenager. I won't be having my own kid for a few years - social rules and all that - but it'll be a fun challenge to deal with Kallian until then. I haven't met the rest of his family yet, but they all seem pretty nice at a distance so far.

I probably shouldn't be sending you too many letters, people here are real paranoid about other colonies and I don't want to get on anyone's bad side so early on. And in the same way I can't be giving you a return address, at least not right now. (I don't even know yet how they address things around here!) But I'll try to keep you posted about major things that happen.

Don't get too lonely without me!

Clara

After staring out the windows for a while to clear her mind, Clara re-read the letter a few times. It seemed safe enough, with no indication that anyone was not Homs or that Alcamoth was technologically advanced. Satisfied, she sealed it in an envelope, addressed it, and attached a stamp featuring Entirmina's portrait. It felt weird for a stamp to display someone she had met personally; most Homs stamps were of famous generals and warriors of past battles with the Mechon. She presumed there was a post office in the palace somewhere that she could deliver her letter to.

The clock read five, meaning it was probably a bad idea to begin anything else too involved before the dinner. Becoming somewhat bored, she decided to take a look in all the kitchen cabinets she hadn't yet opened, as well as fishing through the bathroom cupboards to find the products the barber had recommended to bring them to the front.

The realisation struck that the next few weeks would probably be pretty boring in general - other than use the radio and the television, all she could really do was learn the language. It might be a month or two before she could unlock any of the books, and she didn't really have anyone to talk to yet. It sucked a little, but it'd just be a few weeks - a lot less than the four years she'd already wasted.

Once five-thirty arrived, so did Sorean. Clara took her letter and went to meet him at the entrance of the villa.

"Good evening, Clara." Sorean looked at the envelope in her hand. "I see you have written a letter. To home, I presume?"

"Yeah. Mostly saying I got here fine and things are going well." Something occurred to her. "...The Nopon Postal Guild does come to Alcamoth, right?"

"Indeed it does. It has always been possible for mail to travel between our city and your colonies; there has simply been very little usage of such networking."

"Great. So do we have time to deliver this before dinner?"

"Of course."

Sorean led the way through the palace towards the imperial mailroom. Behind the counter of the smaller-than-expected room, a purple-robed man who looked forty-something to Clara's Homs eyes was busy weighing a package.

"Ah, good evening, Your Highness." The postmaster wrote down a number and moved to a second package.

"Good evening, Mr. Theki." Sorean stepped aside.

Assuming she had to do it herself, Clara moved up to the counter. "Uh, I'd like this delivered."

The postmaster looked her over for a moment before cautiously taking the letter from her hands and reading the address. "Very well, madam. I will ensure this passes into the right hands."

"Thank you." Clara figured nothing else needed to be done, so she turned and left.

Sorean gathered her from just outside without a word and continued directing her through the halls. After what felt like a fair distance, they turned into a door near the middle of a hallway.

It was pretty clear that this was the dining hall reserved for the imperial family's private day-to-day meals as opposed to royal events. Unlike the rest of the palace, it appeared to be designed for function over form; while impressive landscape art hung on the walls, the floor was bare aside from one square table and eight chairs, which were relatively simple in design. The tablecloth had five places set.

"This shall be your seat." Sorean pulled out the near chair on the left side of the table. "I shall sit on your left, and in clockwise fashion will be Entirmina, Yumea, and Kallian."

"Okay then." Clara had wanted to sit beside Kallian instead of diagonally across from him, but she knew from the start that it was a bit of a pipe dream. "What is for dinner, anyway?"

"I do not know. Setting the menu is the empress's prerogative. As she knows of your introductory presence tonight, I trust it will not be something of exceptionally exotic taste."

Clara sensed that someone else had entered the hall. She turned around to see Kallian backing off slightly towards the outside of the door frame, as if he did not expect her to be present.

"Hello, Kallian. How are you?"

Kallian looked past her towards the far wall, close enough to eye contact that he might be able to fool his father. "I am fine."

"That's nice to hear." She knew he would be pretty aloof towards casual conversation with her, but she had to start needling her way in. "Did you do anything interesting today?"

She expected a curt "no". To her surprise, she got a whole lot more.

""Interesting" is a point of view. What is of interest to you is likely to be a typical, daily task of drudgery for me that I have no reason to recall once it is complete. Indeed, one could say that the vast majority of my life would be interesting to a Homs, and potentially interesting to a citizen of Alcamoth, but on the whole it is quite boring to myself."

It was a fascinating statement - unexpectedly forward and honest, but with undertones of being an excuse to never provide a proper answer to the question.

He had that prepared, Clara thought. He knew I was going to ask the next time I saw him and devised an excuse accordingly. And...it actually makes quite a lot of sense. Hmmm. I'll have to ask more specific questions to get anything out of him, but I can't really do that until I know what specifics there are.

Entirmina was the next to enter, wearing a broad smile and moving surprisingly smoothly for her age.

"Ah, it's nice to see you again, Clara. How does Alcamoth suit you so far?" She carried a much more natural and friendlier aura than when they had met in the Audience Chamber; it gave off the impression that she didn't like the required stuffiness any more than those who met with her.

Clara felt a bit uneasy with the stark difference in attitude, but tried to push past it. "Pretty well I guess. It's a maze in here though, I'm definitely going to get lost at some point."

"Oh, we all have." Entirmina pulled out her chair and sat down, implying everyone else should follow. "Perhaps not at your relative age, but...The palace was originally designed to be spectacular above all else. Some facets of its design are nothing but inconveniences in today's day and age, yet attempting to change anything without a clear reason is met with pushback from many. Learning to navigate it is no small feat."

Following everyone else's example, Clara sat in her assigned seat, which despite its simplicity still felt both solid and soft. It felt like she was supposed to maintain the conversation, so she quickly cast her mind around and landed on something previously unrealised. "You mean, like how it feels like everything important is all spaced apart?"

"Precisely. Did you know that the five royal bedrooms in the palace are placed at maximum distance from one another?" Entirmina shook her head as if the idea still surprised her. "Such an inconvenience for anyone wishing to meet with another member of the family, or for quickly collecting everyone together. But it means that no matter how much of the palace is destroyed by a single catastrophe, there is always one room and its occupant remaining, and so despite the unreasonableness of such paranoia, it remains unchanged."

"So tradition is the big thing around here?" Clara tried to remain undistracted by the silverware placed on the table, which each had a row of feathers etched into its handle.

Sorean nodded. "Indeed. Our long lifespans may shower us with wisdom and experience, but they also curse us with complacency and stubbornness. We may possess extraordinary technology, but to an extent it is despite our longevity and not because of it. If the Homs were not so occupied with the Mechon, who knows how quickly they could catch up to us."

"...yeah, about that. How come you just sit up here in Alcamoth and don't help us out with the Mechon? I mean I get you like to keep to yourselves but wouldn't it help everyone in the long run?"

There was a pause as Sorean gathered his answer together. "The public does not want us to enter such a war, and would revolt at the idea. Furthermore, it would only encourage an arms race between us and the Mechon, with the Homs caught in the crossfire. The current situation of a reasonably stable stalemate is the best we can hope for - until we can finally convince the people that the Homs are worthy allies."

Clara looked up to find a clock on the wall opposite the door, reading two to six. I'm guessing the food will arrive at exactly six. Man I'm actually kinda hungry. I hope it's a bit spicy, it'll make whatever the drink is taste bet-

A sharp gasp pierced the room.

Turning towards the door revealed it to have come from a woman of about Sorean's age. She was wearing a pompous dress of a heavily desaturated indigo and silver, with the most attention being drawn by her highly padded hips. She had more makeup on her face than the rest of the room combined, as well as fake nails that looked more dangerous than attractive. Her hair was tightly wrapped into two shoulder-length tails, and her feathers glistened as if they had been covered in some sort of reflective powder.

"Ah." Sorean moved his arm to present Clara. "Yumea, this is Clara, my future Second Consort. Clara, meet Yumea, my First Consort."

Yumea stood rigid for a moment before slowly nodding, with no expression on her face. "I see, very well. I welcome this new addition to our family." She came to sit in her seat without acknowledging the Homs' presence.

Clara's first impression was less than ideal. She seems like a high-and-mighty stuck-up, not open to change in any way.

"Forgive my surprise." Yumea spoke in a flat tone without attempt to make eye contact. "I have been beset with such stress over the past week that it slipped my mind a Second Consort was being procured."

Sorean looked surprised and concerned. "I was aware you sought isolation for the last few days, but to forget your own suggestion? Are you quite sure you are sound in body and mind?"

"I have seen the doctor. Any affliction I may have had is regressing quickly." She clearly considered the matter closed.

Before anyone else could discuss otherwise, the food arrived. Half a dozen waiters brought in reasonably large plates graced with what appeared to be roast Tirkin, a gold-coloured vegetable cut into carrot-like slices, and a lump of mashed Airy Potatoes; tall glasses of milk were also served.

Clara's eyes lit up. Bird was her favoured meat, and she could almost smell the sweetness coming off the sliced vegetable. It took a bit of effort to not dive in immediately, instead politely waiting for someone else to go first.

To her surprise, there was no pre-meal ritual or anything. The moment everyone had their plates, Kallian showered his food with salt and began taking apart his bird, with the others (less vigorously) following suit. Glad that there was no extra social baggage, she happily joined in. It was delicious.

After a minute or two of no conversation, Entirmina leaned towards Clara a bit. "Well? No comment on the dinner?"

"Oh um." Clara cleaned out her mouth a bit. "Er, it's really good. Pretty much all stuff I like, with bird meat, something sweet, and...uh, these Airy Potatoes are a lot nicer on the mouth than the Cool Potatoes I know. Actually, I have a question. Why milk? I mean don't get me wrong I'm more than okay with it. I just figured...milk doesn't really seem like a royal drink to me."

"You expected something akin to wine or cider, correct?" Sorean answered. "We do indeed enjoy such drinks on occasion, but to partake in them daily would dilute the enjoyment. And of course, not all of us are old enough for it outside special festivities."

A pout formed on Kallian's lips for a split second, though it quickly vanished as he continued to shovel food in. Clara guessed it was because he didn't like to have his shortcomings pointed out.

"Should you have any other questions," Sorean continued, "we are always happy to respond."

Clara had two questions that jumped to mind right away. "Well, here's one." She turned to Yumea. "So...you were the one who decided that now was a good time to look for a Homs consort?"

Yumea made an almost imperceptible nod. "Correct."

Sorean added to the short answer. "While it was Yumea who suggested that now was a good time, the seer added her input by directing me to your colony. And I daresay that these two instincts produced an exceptional result."

Clara nodded and moved to her second question. "Okay, so, there's something else...so Kallian's not the son of the empress, but he's still the prince? How does that work?" She recalled being told something about the empress being infertile, but not why she couldn't just pass the title to someone who wasn't.

There was an unsettled pause around the table.

Entirmina was the first to break it. "It is a long story, and difficult to explain to those who are not attuned to our culture. Are you sure you wish to know now?"

"Well uh...well I think it might be a good idea. I mean, to...to start getting me attuned. And I like a good story."

"Very well." Entirmina gathered her thoughts and began.

"Three hundred years ago, there was Emperor Camberole, who had a brother and two sons. The sons were of similar age, and embroiled in a fierce but good-natured competition for the right to be heir. But tragedy struck, and the Emperor and his sons were all killed in a nebula explosion. Only his brother, Delus, remained to take the throne. After taking time to recover from the event, he fathered me and began his search for a Second Consort. Unfortunately, he did not succeed in reasonable time, and was resorted to fathering Sorean as a second child of the First Consort. But more importantly, he abdicated the throne to me while still alive, in order to spend time with Sorean. Many believed this to be a hasty decision, but none were willing to dispute it."

"You see, the structure of our imperial bureaucracy is complex and resolute. The rules for when it is and is not acceptable to pass on the throne while still alive are inconsistent and full of the ancient ways of thinking. For now, all you need to know is that our situation resulted in Delus making a kaleta - a decision of honour. To make a kaleta is to place the honour of your person and your name upon the result of the decision. By the same token, to question a kaleta is to call forth dishonour upon all that the person is, was, and will be. With this in place, very little dissent of his choice was heard through his final years and past his death."

"When it came time for me to bring forth an heir, the news was crude and final: my body is infertile, and no amount of medical intervention can solve it. But I could not simply pass the throne to Sorean, as this would be questioning our father's kaleta - implying that he made the incorrect choice in bequeathing the throne to me. And I could not do so for as long as I lived; the throne could only pass safely upon my death."

"Being only fifty years apart - about eleven years to your Homs mind - it was far too likely that Sorean would pass first and leave me as the last of the imperial line. And even if not so, he may find himself too aged to produce even a single heir. Consulting the annals of history, we found a mere four cases of similar infertility against a kaleta, all of which were swiftly resolved by shattering the kaleta and leaving the parent to be dishonoured for a decision they were ultimately and unknowingly insufficiently informed about."

"We decided that this was unacceptable and began to take action. For the next twenty years, we dug into the bowels of the bureaucracy to draft a solution to our situation. The concept was simple: allow a sibling of the empress to have heirs on her behalf should she be declared permanently infertile. But of course the old ways tower above even us. The lawmakers of both the past and present balked at drafting such a way to "cheat" a kaleta. The ministers frowned at any change to the ancient scrolls, no matter how beneficial it could be. But finally, after a great deal of effort and consternation, the Entirmina Amendment was ratified."

"And thus Sorean is my Heirmaster, still young enough to have consorts and heirs, while I continue to be empress and keep our father's honour intact."

Clara had been eating on autopilot while eagerly listening to the story. It felt like she missed a few details and might need to have it retold sometime, but the gist was clear: Entirmina and Sorean fought a bunch of legal and social junk to wind up with the current situation of "the empress is infertile, so her brother is having the kids". She suddenly felt kind of lucky at the empress's expense - had this not happened, Entirmina would have been looking for men to consort, and she would still be stuck down in Colony 9.

She felt obliged to comment. "That's...um...well, good on you for not letting the old dead guys boss you around."

Sorean chuckled. "That's what I like to hear. It is all that your presence here is about, in fact - the undermining of the old ways of thinking, to replace them with modernity for the benefit of all."

Clara noticed that, while most of the diners still had a minute or two left to go on their food, Kallian had cleaned his plate and was sitting patiently.

Ah a perfect time to poke him. "Kallian, do you normally wait around for everyone to finish eating?"

Kallian stared off to the side, seemingly unhappy to be asked a direct question with no way to way to get around it. "No." He glanced at his father for a second and reconsidered his one-word answer. "But as this is your first dinner with us, I thought it respectful to do so."

"That's good." I think I'll make it a goal to get one straight answer out of him a day. That's almost four hundred a year...probably a thousand by the time I'm ready to have my kid. Hopefully. That might be a bit too optimistic actually, but whatever.

With the dinner winding down, a waiter brought another plate to the table, holding five chocolate-frosted cupcakes. Everyone took one with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Clara noted that while the adults carefully took bites out of the wrapped base, Kallian removed the wrapper completely and ate his with his fingers. She could sense a dirty glare from Yumea and suspected this was a common occurrence. Finally tasting her own, she was delighted to find what seemed like a blend of three chocolate tastes inside.

Entirmina was the first to stand up, and proceeded to approach Clara with hand extended. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Clara. I'm a busy woman, but I can't wait to continue having dialogues with you. The perspective of a frank discourse between us should be a fresh experience."

Clara figured she was to stand up as well before shaking the hand. "Uh, you're welcome then. It's...an honour to know you."

"Oh, the honour is mine. After all, there have been more empresses than Homs consorts." She made an almost sly wink. "Have a nice evening." Without further word, she left the hall.

Everyone else had stood up in the meantime. Kallian followed his aunt out quickly, clearly trying to slip away beneath notice. Yumea glanced at Clara with a stoic, blank expression before herself departing.

Sorean approached with a smile on his face. "I believe that went as well as could be expected. What do you think?"

Clara thought for a moment before responding. "Well Entirmina seems to like me and that's important. And it feels like Kallian's just...shy, really."

"Shy Kallian?" Sorean had a good laugh. "Clara, there are not many people who can restrain my son's arrogance and competitive spirit. Were you not present, he would have spent the dinner boasting about his scholarly successes and hobbyist pursuits. It is clear he holds no small amount of fear over the uncertainty you bring to the family."

"...if you say so. I mean the one I'm really worried about is Yumea. She really didn't seem to like me at all."

Sorean frowned a bit. "Yumea has always been a staunch traditionalist. I cannot deny her opinions have impeded progress more times than would be desirable. In fact, it was quite unlike her to suggest that it would be a good time for me to search for a Homs consort. Perhaps she is attempting to better herself by forcing the issue, and we should simply let things fall as they are."

"Hmmm." Clara didn't have a real response to the comment, so she changed the subject. "So what now?"

"I do not believe we should begin anything more tonight. The day has been busy, and tomorrow will be much of the same."

"Oh wow really? Just as busy as today?"

"In a sense. You see, all citizens of Alcamoth must be trained in the art of skydiving. It is not difficult to learn, but it will take the majority of the day tomorrow, and for several further days over the next few weeks."

"Skydiving? For if we fall off I guess? But won't we just land in the sea and be safe anyway?"

"Not necessarily. Falling from the city is such a rare occurrence that there is only a single transporter on the water's surface for returning, positioned in the centre of the city's footprint. You must learn how to control your descent so you land nearby it, as one cannot swim forever."

"Ah okay I get it." Clara thought for a moment. "So...what am I gonna do for the next few hours then?"

Sorean shrugged unconcernedly. "Perhaps you could read a book. You do possess a fair amount of them."

"Yeah, and they're all in...Erythscript, aren't they? I can't read them yet."

"Then it is a good thing I have procured this." Sorean reached behind his cloak and pulled out a book.

Amused that someone had eaten dinner with a book lodged against their back, Clara took hold of it. It felt relieving to finally see something in Homs lettering for a change: To Sprout A Feather by Hilda Kel'toru.

"It is a book of memoirs," Sorean explained, "of Homs mothers of half-blooded children. I daresay it will be of use to you."

Clara smiled broadly.