35th Day of Fall, 513 AV
Appearances were absolutely everything. Celeste could only present the best possible image for Amaryllis. With painstaking effort, she’d brushed her hair until it shone, polished the grime off her heart-shaped earrings and donned her arcane robes, the gold accent flowing nicely alongside the auric glow of her phials, each one carefully wrapped to be fit for presentation. Elsene had threatened an extra three days of work for use of the materials, but it was worth it. By the end of the day, she’d either be dead or further along the path to political supremacy and either way, the extra labor seemed inconsequential at best.
She stretched, attempting to ignore the hammering of her heart. This was certainly not going to be easy. It was difficult to say just what she even expected out of this little impromptu affair. Garnering favor was one thing, but Amaryllis was the most well connected official in the Citadel. She’d clearly see right through the maneuver and when Celeste was prompted on what she truly desired, that she could not say. Maybe she wanted to be simply recognized, so when the time came, the Chief Embalmer would know her to be valuable. Perhaps there was a hidden opportunity to be found, one she’d not thought of. Whatever the risk, whatever the reward, she only knew one thing for certain; it was worth it. So she went, breathing deeply, rehearsing what she wanted to say.
The walk was mercifully short, the only real noise being the soft tinkling of her earrings as she moved across the way. Celeste always loved to admire the architecture. Take away all the adornment and a wall was still a wall, yet the Alaheans had a special talent for making the decorative look wholly necessary. The stucco and mosaic, the taper and garland, each worked in harmony to provide a stark, dramatic effect, which lent the whole place an especially rich and tasteful feeling. Celeste tried to distract her worried mind with the filigree of the overhead beams, her eyes tracing the etching, so very akin to the energy that flowed boundlessly through her. Everything was simply a reflection. In the end, life was nothing more than a pastiche of itself, replicating flawlessly the very djed that gave it meaning and shape.
Her philosophical thoughts were rudely interrupted by the approach of Amaryllis’ office. Celeste sighed and after casting a single last look over the placid waters of the central bathing pool, she turned and knocked on the door lightly, waiting for a reply. The wrapped packages winked emerald and gold up at her in the faint, azure light. If there were to be a reply, her stomach would flip and she’d enter, doing her best to swallow the rising gorge.
Whatever happened, it would likely be for the best. Right?