What comes most natural to you.

You don't want to create any more drama or chaos than what you've already done, or at least not intentionally. The way to get further in is by making everyone believe you belong there, allay any suspicion by not doing anything seemingly out of place. You've never been to the Imperial City, that you can remember, so you will admittedly have to make this up as you go along. That said, you know what makes the most sense immediately; a whore.

Well, they would never be so open about it, not even in this area of privilege and wealth. They prefer terms like 'consort' and 'courtesan' but the purpose is the same. Their self denial goes even further than that, and is outright laughable; even though nobody has seen the Emperor in more than a generation, and though he is thought to be a man who made himself a god, these are "The Emperor's Consorts"; consorts that anyone and everyone privileged to be in the inner circle of the workings of the Empire can use without compunction or consequence. The whole thing is incredibly inconsistent, and would be a problem to the rest of the Empire if the events here were publicly known.

You doll yourself up to fit the role perfectly; giving yourself a more youthful, innocent appearance in the face. You plump up your physique, making your butt even more round and soft, as your breasts expand slightly with each step you make. With a final magical flourish, you grant yourself a long robe of soft red silk with golden trim, giving you the air of wealth and prestige, as well as the benefit of getting easily into and out of them with a simple tug on the sash around your tiny waist. Catching yourself in the mirror, you smile with an immense pride at the new you that you've constructed. Certainly the Dungeon Master, if he were paying attention, would be unable to resist lusting after you, despite all of his attempts at feigning godlike indifference to mortal pleasures.

Continuing on, you walk closer and closer towards the center of the nexus, bringing the neck of every male to follow along with you as pass them. You start to wonder if you've perhaps done your job too well with the amount of attention you've brought to yourself, but dismiss the idea just as quickly as you acknowledge nobody has stopped you. At least, not until you enter the true Imperial Palace, the capital within the capital, within the capital. You make your way through the warmly lit rooms, wandering in hope of stumbling on some sign of the Emperor or some piece of his holy retinue that you might claim, before you are stopped by an elderly noble, who is clearly interested in more than just your activities.

"You there!" He called out from behind you, causing you to stop obediently, and turning towards him.

"Yes, milord?" You respond with a practiced gentile demeanor.

"Account for yourself. I've known all of the consorts at one time or another, but I must admit, I'm not familiar with your body of work" He approaches towards you as he talks, by the time he's finished he is face to face and opens the top of your robe without a moments hesitation to see your enormous cleavage. You remain perfectly still, allowing it to happen. You even smile bigger, as if you wanted him to see you as just an object on legs. You have to make up something on the fly here, and you give your best shot.

"I was personally chosen by the Emperor's closest advisors to serve as one of his consorts. I was looking to see where I could find him, so that I may better serve him, and I'm afraid I've gotten lost." You rub your hands over your mountainous tits to tantalize him "If you could direct me where I'm supposed to go, I could serve you as well Milord."