The next morning.

The duchess has come to you in all her glory. She is accompanied by her guard, the metal of their armour soft and jiggly, as if they wore nothing. The duchess approaches you, surrounded by bright ethereal light. She bends over you, her face covered in mist, but not so the rest of her body. She leans in for a kiss. Your lips taste her soft sweetness. "Have you come for me, traveller?", she whispers. Her fingers stretch out for you, the guards closing in. You feel their warmth, the air filled with desire, and—

A loud knock rips you away from your dreams. You blink, slowly putting together where you are. Another knock. "Awaken!", the minister's voice sounds through the wooden door. "The duchess expects you in her throne room at the second hour of the day."

You first curse him for not allowing to delve deeper into your nightly fantasies, but soon, reason takes over. It's time to meet the real duchess. You're brought porridge and a bowl of water for hygiene, as well as kind of toothbrush with a wooden handle and animal hair for cleaning your teeth, and, to substitute toothpaste, a leaf of mint. It works sursprisingly well and, thus, few minutes later you step onto the corridor in an acceptable olfactory condition.

The minister has long rushed off, so you are lead to the throne room by your guard. As expected, it is the room behind the big doors. They swing open before you, and you enter. The remarkable size of the throne hall is emphasized by its emptiness. Blue banners with crests resembling white birds are the only furnishing, apart from the duchess's seat of power. The throne itself is impressive-looking, carved of aged wood, with a high back. Upon it sits ... noone. Three pairs of guards enclose the path to the throne, next to it the minister stands upright. But no duchess in sight.

You are lead through the room by your companion, who signifies you to halt five meters before the throne. She herself steps back a little. The minister stares at you, with barely concealed distrust.

Finally, a door behind the throne opens. A young woman steps into the hall, wearing a blue gown with the duchess's crest embroided upon. Her garment reveals her as of high rank. Maybe she is the lady's herold? As she makes her way around the throne, you suddenly notice all the guards as well as the minister sinking upon their knees.