‘Good evening, Madame,’ he intoned, allowing her to pass through.
‘Good evening, Aethal, so good to see you again!’
This was no mere pleasantry, Madame Fleurese was very happy to see the man because she knew that he was the bodyguard of the City Marshall, Beoric Stornson, a key advisor to the Emperor and, since Hastel’s disappearance, the highest authority in the city, and overall commander of the garrison. Her smile grew wider and more genuine as she passed through the inner door to the room and began to float around the table and the men and women within, whispering words of welcome and greeting in their ears as she generously refilled cups. All of the people within were known to her, though she knew one better than any of the others, a thin, sallow man named Thran, a Captain in the Im
