Shoot. She hoped that he wouldn’t tell his parents, but sometimes he spoke without thinking. I probably should have gone with him, Ria thought. It was too late now. Eaden had just vanished behind the small mass of Aælfir leaving, and besides, without him, she was headed in the opposite direction. She walked out into the adjoining hallway, excusing herself as she manoeuvred around a pair of Aelfr engaged in a public display of affection. The hallway was mostly empty, with the majority of Aælfir on work duty, at their posts during the middle of the cycle, and she enjoyed the opportunity to walk the home-ship’s corridors without having to fight her way through a crowd or stick to the single-file system. She stopped beside a transparent door that led to one of the kitchens, watching as the cooks worked the meal-fabricators. An Aelfi smiled at her, as she noticed the onlooker, and raised a drybread bun.

“You want something to eat hun?” the Aelfi said, her voice carrying from behind the door. The cook’s question drew the stares of a few other Aælfir inside the kitchen, most of whom offered small smiles of their own, though several frowned at the Aelfi’s offer of extra food.

“Oh, no thanks!” Ria replied. Her small stomach felt swollen from an already-excessive lunch, and the thought of even a single bite more made her feel a little bit nauseous. The cook nodded and turned back to her work, entering meal formulas into a nearby fabricator and prepping the resultant raw matter for the ovens. She watched for a few minutes. She was always a little bit fascinated by how things worked. Once the cooks had settled into a predictable routine Ria turned away from the kitchens to head home.

Vievel. If anyone knew what trouble Halycen had gotten into, it would be Halycen’s cousin. I should stop by his quarters and ask, she thought. She looked down at her netcomm; hers was a smaller and older model than Eaden’s, strapped to her wrist whereas his was a standalone and larger device that required two hands. She still had time before she was supposed to be back. Without her charge to worry about she could visit the Ulmadr quarters before heading to her own Blödskalh home. The two sectors were practically adjacent. Ria set off in the direction of her family quarters, taking her normal route for the first few minutes before she reached the intersection where the paths to the Blödskalh and Ulmadr sectors divulged. Turning right instead of left, she strode down a quickly widening hallway leading toward Vievel’s family home; the walls were decorated by a series of mosaic artworks, each one hand-crafted by a different notable member of the house from centuries past, and each a dazzling display of colour. Ria marvelled at the vast space and number of artworks permitted in this section of the home-ship, gripped by them as if she was beholding them for the very first time. No matter how many times she visited, the Ulmadr halls never seemed to get any less majestic.

At last, she emerged into a wide atrium, a grand space with a singular small door at its end; the door was flanked by a series of fine red-fabric chairs on one side, and a yawning Aelfr soldier on the other. He stared down at the floor, not noticing her, his eyes struggling to fight the weight of his tiredness. The roof of the room was transparent, built from a reinforced plastic, and made up the floor of the home-ship’s court; the court itself stood empty today but Ria could make out the Patriarch’s ceremonial chair at the furthest edge, a towering seat probably twice the height and width of the Patriarch himself. The cushioning on the chair was fashioned from a fine red fabric, much like the guest chairs at the far end of the atrium, although more faded from age, but crooked lines of chartreuse surrounded its fraying edges, evidence of delicate and time-consuming hand-stitching.

In the centre of the room, extending from the floor and through the roof into the court above, stood a familiar tall glass pillar, both an heirloom of the family, and an ostentatious display of wealth. As she approached it Ria stopped, catching her reflection in the pillar. Her braid was lopsided. She put her hands to her hair and pulled the braid, tightening the loop that restrained her ponytail before she stepped back to check it again. She scanned her mirror counterpart, looking for anything else out of place, and noticed one of the ribbons tied to her navy-blue frock had fallen loose. It dangled, limp beside her waist, and try as she might she couldn’t get the ribbon to fixed into place with the rest. She opted to remove it, plucking it from the bundle pinned to her capelet and slipped it into the slim pockets of her dress. She was glad that there were so few mirrors outside of quarters. She couldn’t imagine getting anything done if she was always this conscious about her appearance.

“Miss Riandra!” A soldier by the foyer door snapped to attention as he noticed Ria. “How can I help you?” he called. She smiled, waving at the Aelfr as she walked up to the atrium’s far door.

“I was hoping to speak to Vie- uh, Lord Ulmadr,” Ria said, quickly changing her mind about her address.

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen the young lord all day,” the soldier replied. “I can send someone to announce your arrival if you like”.

“Can’t I just go find him myself?” she asked, as sweetly as she possibly could.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you into Ulmadr quarters unattended miss. He’ll have to come to you.”

“Can the attendant walk with me?”

“Afraid not, matter of security. The young lord has to accept responsibility for you or else I can’t let you in unescorted.”

“Can’t you escort me?”

“Short-staffed today miss, sorry. I have to stay on duty here. Shall I have one of the attendants announce you?” The soldier smiled apologetically.

“Yes, of course,” she said, stifling a sigh of disappointment. The soldier nodded and pulled a netcomm from his magnetic belt.

“Lord Ulmadr has a visitor, the lady Celeste Blödskalh. Would someone care to announce her?” Ria bristled at the use of her first name.

“Thank you,” she replied, nonetheless keen to observe proper niceties. She took a seat in a guest chair beside the soldier, relaxing into it.

Once someone checks on Vievel I’ll get to the bottom of this.