The throne room was as spacious and empty as an abandoned warehouse, but that was where the similarities stopped.
Pillars of white stone ringed with gold and silver stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and a deep orange carpet rolled from the entrance all the way to the throne. Leading up to the throne were 3 large steps, each easily a foot higher than the next.
Behind the throne was a massive sculpture of a dragon, made from pure gold. In its mouth were teeth made of Topaz, and each of its eyes was encrusted with sapphires. It was a menacing display, more than 5 meters in length.
Every tile of the room was clean to the point of sparkling, not a speck of dust or grime to be seen.
And it was also completely empty. Not a single person was waiting for them when they arrived.
"Where is the Priestess?" Ophelia said, still holding the False Tiger. "Should she not be awaiting us after she called us here?"
"She is on her way," Tao replied. "Most likely she assumed we would have taken a longer route through the city. She is not late; we are merely early."
Ophelia scrunched up her nose and looked as though she wanted to complain, but the creaking of an opening door drew everyone's attention. The door was at the back of the chamber, to the right of the throne room. When it opened, a line of people came walking out.
The first was a man dressed similarly to Tao. Once he was through the door, he let everyone else pass him and announced them as they entered the room.
"High Eunuch Jin Wen." A tall man in white robes entered the room. His face was coated with white makeup, and his hands were pressed hidden beneath sleeves that were pressed together in a praying motion.
"High Eunuch Jin Luo." Another man in identical attire entered the room, and two more duplicates followed behind him. "High Eunuch Jin Wei. High Eunuch Jin Shen Yu."
As they entered the room, each one took their place standing on the steps leading up to the throne. Once all four were out, 2 more figures entered the room. The first was a man who wore simple grey robes and a black mask that resembled a dragon, obscuring his face completely. He sat on the ground to the left of the throne, cross-legged, as he was announced:
"Artorias, Guardian of Sinae, and Shadow of the Priestess." Even though he could not see them, Mathew felt the man's eyes boring into his. For a moment he wondered if Artorias could see through the False Face to his real one beneath it. It made him shiver.
The final person to enter the room was a young girl of maybe 10 or 11 years old. She wore similar white robes to the Eunuchs on the steps, but it was much too big on her, making it look like she was drowning in her own clothing.
Her other features were peculiar as well: not only did she have long, bright orange hair, but a pair of large antlers sprouted from her head.
Mathew squinted and thought he saw patches of scales on her cheeks as well.
As she sat on the throne and faced her audience, her large eyes appeared as glassy blue gemstones, and Mathew realized they greatly resembled the eyes of the dragon sculpture behind her. The announcer introduced her as she took her seat:
"Priestess Io, Overseer of Sinae, Ruler of Scyvia, Daughter of the Dragon and Princess of Time and Space."
Everyone, even Ophelia, bowed low in response.
Mathew snuck a peek at Dragon priestess Io with his Truesight, curious what an unassuming child like her looked like in the divine realm. He regretted the action immediately.
A massive inferno of orange and blue poured out of her in a torrent, threatening to burn his eyes right out of their sockets. Not only that, but the fire seemed to notice him watching it, and it responded by twisting into the shape of a massive dragon with the antlers of a deer.
It stared him down menacingly, twisting around the Priestess as if to protect her. He deactivated his Truesight immediately, panting in exertion. Siyah raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.
Her power and presence in the divine realm… He hadn't felt anything like that since he had glimpsed the true forms of Alchemy and Sequence.
The Priestess… What was she?
Ophelia lifted her head and decided it was the right time to return introductions.
"Greetings, great Dragon Priestess," She began. "I am Ophelia of Valor, Daughter of Palonius. I have come to…"
"Silence, woman. You dare speak when the Priestess herself has not uttered a word?" One of the Eunuchs had cut her off, his voice surprisingly shrill and high-pitched.
"No, I was simply-"
"Disgraceful," another Eunuch said. "Is this how a princess of Elysium carries herself?"
"Perhaps she was simply never taught manners," said a third.
Ophelia fell silent. Mathew looked at her face and expected to see frustration. Instead, he saw… embarrassment?
Her cheeks had flushed slightly. It made her seem younger… or rather, it made her appear more her age than she usually did.
All the Eunuchs looked down at her with expressions ranging from indifference to disgust. They all turned to their ruler and awaited her command. She stared at Ophelia with her inhuman eyes, and said a single word:
"Speak."
Her voice was quiet, her tone innocent, but it was still carried by the acoustics of the large room.
Ophelia took a deep breath.
"Great Priestess, I have traveled many months so that I could stand before you. All I ask is that you hear my petition and grant me your support." She said.
"Well then, speak it already," said one Eunuch
"You are taking an eternity to get to the point, and your voice is grating on my ears," agreed another.
"Of course," She said with a small bow, "I have been the target of a devious scheme, and I am the sole survivor of my family. I had to flee my country in order to escape their clutches, but as the rightful heir to the House of Valor, I wish to return and reclaim my throne."
Another torrent of words from the Eunuchs came:
"In other words, you could not hold on to your own crown, and so you come begging before the ruler of another nation? Have you no shame?"
"I cannot tell if it is shame she lacks or pride… What a poor excuse for a ruler."
Ophelia was looking more and more uncomfortable, and Mathew almost felt bad for her… almost. Much more powerful an emotion was the undeniable feeling of vindication at watching his captor verbally torn to shreds.
"Tell us, girl, what you would have us do for your little rebellion," said one of the Eunuchs with narrowed eyes.
Ophelia cleared her throat.
"Perhaps, if Her Excellency would be so kind… I require troops. Even if I do not go to open war with my own country, if I could return with a formidable force and-"
"I knew it," said one of the Eunuchs. "You come to our holy nation, which has stayed out of the petty conflicts of the world for a century, and you demand we step in to help you start some civil war?"
"No, there would be no bloodshed, simply a show of strength-" Ophelia tried, but was cut off again.
"You come from a nation of savage warmongers after all. Of course you would be a savage princess as well."
"I simply wanted-"
"Pathetic. If you want to fight a war, fight it yourself. It is your country after all. If you cannot reclaim your own title, then perhaps you do not deserve to have it."
Ophelia bowed her head again. It was a strange gesture every time Mathew witnessed it. Humility from the tyrant princess? No, he would not accept it.
Cracks were forming in her usually forceful countenance, and for the first time Mathew wondered if all her bluster and anger were nothing more than a facade. Did he pity her? Perhaps, but he buried it deep down within himself as he watched his mistress crumble.
"Please… What can I do to convince you to aid me?" She said.
The High Eunuchs looked at each other, and Mathew realized that they had something planned already. One of them smiled sweetly at Ophelia, his doll-like face making the gesture look creepy.
"Well, we might consider lending you aid, or at the very least counsel in your endeavors, but we would first need a sign of good faith."
"And what would that be?"
"Our Holy Nation was ransacked a century ago, and many of our treasures were taken. A few are even in the hands of the Elysium country. We have been waiting many years for an opportunity to retrieve what was lost, and now you come to our doorstep bearing one with you."
"You mean…"
"The Sword of Division, blade of Trajectory, the traveler, queen of space. If you return it to us, we will consider further negotiations with you."
"Well, I don't know if that is-"
"Answer swiftly now, for we don't have patience for indecisiveness. It only makes you appear weak."
"Uh-um… I-I believe I cannot comply with your request. The Blessing has been in my attendant's family for generations, and I will not force him to part with it."
Had she actually stuttered? Mathew was in shock, though it was clear Ophelia was even more so. The uncertainty leaking from her was so foreign to him, yet seemed to authentic that he wondered if this was who she was all along.
What happened to the tyrant princess whose ego and determination drove her to do whatever it took to achieve her goals? The woman standing before him was not her.
"You reject our kind offer?" Responded the eunuch.
"My sincerest apologies," Ophelia said with a bow. "Is there perhaps something else I can trade for your support?"
The Eunuchs all looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them, and a few of them hid their smiles behind folded arms.
"There is one request that may be even more costly for you, so we hesitate to ask," one said.
"If it is within my power, I will consider it," she said.
"Well, we would hate to deprive your warrior of his inheritance, but we desire what was ours returned to us regardless. And so we have a proposition. If you agree, we promise to support you completely: The nation of Scyvia will be behind you, and you will have troops, resources, and whatever else you need."
Ophelia's eyes widened at his words. She stepped forward, not hiding her eagerness.
"What is it I must do?" She said.
"Give him to us."
"I… what?"
"Instead of forcing your subordinate to part with the blade, you merely give him to the Holy Nation, blade and all. Here he will serve the Dragon Priestess as her ceremonial left hand."
Ophelia swallowed, her eyes flicking to Argus, and then back the the Eunuchs. She couldn't actually be thinking about it, right? Surely it was a simple no.
But then, why was she hesitating for so long?
"Remember," The Eunuch added. "If you do this you will have all the support you could ever ask for, making your quest to reclaim your title all but assured."
Argus's expression was unreadable, as his mistress talked about trading him away right in front of his face.
"Is there perhaps something else I could give you?" Ophelia tried.
"No. This is the only deal we are interested in."
She looked down at the ground, conflict etched into the lines of her face as she furrowed her brows. After what felt like an eternity, she said:
"Please, give me time to consider your offer."
Mathew shook his head. How could she say even that? Did Argus's loyalty not mean anything to her?
He glanced over at Siyah and Beyah, who had been bowing their heads the entire exchange. Each one had an expression of shock on their faces. Sure enough, if Ophelia could give away Argus, then any of them could be tossed away in the future as well.
She really did see them as nothing but property.
Mathew wanted to rebuke her with his words, but someone else had decided to do that for him.
"Ophelia of Valor, I am disappointed in you." It was Artorias, the Shadow of the Priestess. He stood slowly as he continued. "Someone who would trade loyalty for power does not belong on a throne. We will not help you."
"What is this?" Ophelia asked, her hands shaking.
"I was curiously observing the discussion, because I wanted to know what kind of person you were."
"Wait…" She said in realization. "Was I being tested?"
"Anyone who would seek the power of the priestess must be appraised by me, and I have seen everything I need you to see. You, Ophelia, have failed my expectations."
Her face turned a deep scarlet, and she pointed an accusatory finger at him.
"You deceived me. This… this is not fair. I deserve a proper negotiation!"
"You are entitled to nothing. You were promised an audience, and you received it. I even gave you the benefit of the doubt and listened to what you had to say." He then pointed a finger back at her. "Anyone who can even consider giving away their most trusted follower for personal gain is no leader."
"You gave me no choice!" Ophelia shot back, "I… What was I supposed to do?"
"Act with honor, Ophelia of Valor. But you failed to do even that."
Ophelia took a step forward, her whole body shaking.
"I will not allow you to do this to me," She said. "You and your counsel are nothing but scheming snakes. I suppose your so-called 'Priestess' is nothing but a puppet you can manipulate however you desire."
"Silence!" Shouted on of the Eunuchs. "Guards, escort them out of the city."
The soldiers that had led them there stepped forward. Ophelia glared at them, and Mathew suspected she could draw her sword any moment.
"Wait," came the small voice of the Priestess. She stood from her throne. "That would be too cruel. They have traveled far, so let them stay in the Palace as guests."
Everyone in the hall bowed at her words, and the soldiers said, "Yes, Your Excellency," in tandem.
It seemed that the little girl Ophelia had called a puppet had real power after all, and she was the only one who seemed to be willing to help the tyrant princess.
Artorias shook his head and sighed.