Sending a message...

The cool misty mountain landscape is replaced by a world of color as I step through the palace gates. The stonework of the palace is still white marble but it is now adorned with flower wreaths, art and painted statuary. At the entrance to the hall is a man dressed in fine servant's clothes manning a small stand. Past him I can see a throng of people in the rest of the hall and the adjoining rooms. The clothes of the guests are surprisingly modern, but the styling is oddly classical Greco-Roman. As I step forward, the man at the stand meets my eyes and greets me, "Good Evening Miss, what is your name and do you possess any titles?"

I respond, "My name is Sam and..."

I panic internally as I blank on Electra's lesson on titles. Shit! Time to stall...

"Before I give you my title, what's your name?" I ask.

He replies with some surprise in his face, "It's been some time since anyone has asked that. You can call me Messenger, for that's all I am. Now for your title, Sam?"

My mind continues to race. The Huntress holds the moon sacred, maybe I could go with the moon. No, I'm supposed to be undercover though. Maybe of the sphere? Yeah, that's vague enough. I guess I'll go with...

"My title is Of The Greatest Sphere." I say, finishing my response.

The man pauses a moment and then he turns, and in a loud voice announces, "Announcing Sam, Of The Greatest... Spear!"

Fuck, he must have misheard me. The Greatest Spear? Yeah that title won't cause me any problems at all!

I feel the color drain from my face as I see the eyes in the room turn to me. I want to yell in frustration as I walk forward past the stand. Blessedly, the interest is only momentary and the crowd's gazes turn back to their ongoing conversations. As I'm passing The Messenger I hear him softly say, "If you're going to make up a title, you need to send the right message. No need to thank me."

That asshole! I should...

The urge to glare is nearly overpowering, but then I remember Electra's final lesson. I let my nervous walk melt into a sashay, the motion of my hips conveying how skilled I'd be with handling spears. As the entrance hall opens into a marble ballroom I cast one last glance over my solder and catch the Messenger watching my rear. We make brief eye contact, and I smirk in victory before looking back in front of me to survey the ballroom.

Tables of food and drink line the side of the hall. The southern edge of the hall contains a large balcony and the northern end contains some seating. The crowd has several large groupings, the most prominent forming around three men : The Soldier, The King and The Celebrant.