The Steward flicks her wrist, levitating a chunk of rubble off of Idun’s semiconscious face to inspect her. “Really? I thought everyone’s known you’ve been dead for the last two hundred years.”

The Emperor sighs and tugs on his gray beard hairs. “The last two hundred and forty three, actually. We made an official proclamation, invited ambassadors over, what have you.”

“Good for you, I suppose.” She lifts the wall a couple inches higher off of Idun, who groans in pain. “This is our erstwhile assassin? Which splinter cult protest is it this time?”

Scales chimes in from her perch on a sofa. “Blue says she’s from Gelicosta or something, on orders from the ruler.” She crosses her legs and pops an candy from an ornate crystal bowl into her mouth, thoughtful. “Honestly, if I thought she was gonna try to kill you, I would’ve never helped her break in here. My bad, that’s on me.”

The Steward grumbles, adjusting her coat neater and pinching the bridge between her eyes. “The Queen of Gelicost, really? I had her in the ‘mid-low risk’ pile this year. Alright, let’s get this whole mess sorted out so I can reassess my metrics.”

Idun sits on the floor, hands tied, still dusted with a fine layer of mortar from the wall she had been lightly crushed under. She shook her head in adamant denial.

“What are you saying? There’s no war? But the ships you’ve been building on the northeast coast--”

The Steward cuts her off, cocking an eyebrow disdainfully. “You mean in Rrosh? Our main port city and hub for any trade along the entire northern coastline? Of course there’s ships there, where else would they get built?”

“Now in all fairness” the Emperor adds, “demands for both new vessels and repairs has been higher than usual this summer. Though I am still unsure how one could mistake cargo vessels for a navy.”

“Well, I didn’t see the shipyards myself,” Idun protested. “But the intel my Highness gave me said there was warships in great number.”

The Steward scoffed. “It’s not like there’s anything of value for us to invade for anyways. Gelicost’s a worthless spit of rock with nothing but livestock and cold winters.”

The Emperor and Idun both turn to give her very different looks.

“...Not that we’d invade another country unprovoked, of course. That would be a undiplomatic act unbefitting a nation as large and noble as ours,” she added.

“Then what about the lack of soldiers in your cities?” Idun asked. “You only have a few dozen unarmed city guards, and even if some can summon magic blades, you’ve obviously moved your main forces elsewhere!”

The Emperor barks out a laugh, while the Steward sputters. “What--of all the-- we’re a peaceful nation! Who would our soldiers be fighting against, our own civilians!? Why would our guards need to be geared for war when you’re by far the most violent agent we’ve had in ages?”

Idun looks to Scales, who’s the closest thing she has to a trusted ally right now. Scale nods, then grabs a handful of candied fruit from an engraved silver dish. The stewards side-eyes the quickly emptying bowl in mild annoyance.

Idun looks back to an emperor who she had just tried to kill, now plucking at the the stray threads from his newly damaged night robe. This room was nice, if in an overtly opulent way. And the city she had seen, the people who had lived here- their conversations she had heard were that of a peaceful city. Either she was crazy, or...or there was some ploy going on that she didn’t know about.