Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gura would rather not think about how long she's been sitting here.

If she's being technical, she's in charge. She does have the authority to swim out right now and end this mindless meeting… if she doesn't mind angering just about every advisor she has, as well as the nobility, and being the subject of even more rumors than usual.

In practice, however, she is under the supervision of her regents. She is 'too inexperienced' to manage the kingdom herself, says tradition. Never mind that she's kept her eye on the kingdom's politics for almost a decade now, knows the military inside and out after spending a separate ten years serving, and was already considered ready to rule by her parents before their untimely death. She never underwent the formal co-rulership process an heir is expected to undertake before becoming a solo king, and so she is saddled with a bunch of old men peering over her shoulders, questioning her every decision, as a 'surrogate' for her parents until her co-rulership period is finished.

That wouldn't be so much of a problem if they didn't have their own agendas, and display it rather blatantly. Pretty much the only thing she's managed to get done without some level of interference is allowing herself to be titled "Queen" instead of "King" due to some old legal bullshit that specifies a solo ruler is always a king for some reason.

(She knows why. It's because a woman was never expected to take the throne on her own. Alas, her parents only had one child, much to the disappointment of everyone else… especially when she refused to marry and allow one of the other noble houses to get their hands on the crown.)

That's how she finds herself here, sitting at the head of a table, having very little say over the doings of her own kingdom.

Some children dream of scenes like this. Of noblemen and women in all their finery, talking in reasoned fashion, making choices for the good of the realm to safeguard its people…

Yeah, right. Maybe the Atlantean council was once that, but it's fallen a long way since. For one, she's the only woman here who isn't a servant, and two, there's very little 'safeguarding' going on, unless you count protecting the nobles' coffers and real estate. Even the fashion is painfully stifled. She's more or less mandated to wear her 'official' outfit constantly to 'maintain appearances'.

She never thought she'd miss being in the military, but during times like these she absolutely does. Military life may not be fun, but at least there's usually a purpose to what you're doing.

"-increasing amount of shipping activity from the humans." One of the councilmen is saying. "One of their petty kingdoms was even so bold as to send us a request for diplomatic contact."

"How, pray tell?" Another councilman scoffs. "Did they carve a message into a rock and drop it over our city?"

"Worse. They sent some mutant mockery of sealife to deliver it." The first councilman scoffs. "My servants are still trying to chase it out of my estate. It refuses to leave."

"You are under attack?" Gura cuts in. This is the one thing she can sometimes speak with authority on. The councilmen will not dare question her dedication to national defense; her title of general was no formality.

"In a manner of speaking." The man sniffs. "My view is certainly under attack, as is the mood of everyone in the keep. Having such a foul creature around sits poorly with them, Your Majesty. I do not believe it poses any military threat however. The mutant is smaller than a child."

"Hmm." Gura taps her fingers on her chair. "What was the message?"

"I care not to read human gibberish." The man says, turning up his nose. "I had one of the servants deal with it."

Her lips curl in distaste. "I would hope, Duke Hammarish, that is a joke."

The man blinks once, the only sign of his surprise, before his composure returns. "Not so, Your Majesty. I saw no reason to even toy with the idea of entertaining a mere human kingdom, much less one that disgraced us with such a tasteless envoy."

Gura closes her eyes and takes a deep breath through her gills. This is a monumental event, yet Duke Hammarish is brushing it off like a school prank. "If that message has not been destroyed, bring it before me. Primitive or not, such an unusual event needs to be cataloged."

Hammarish clearly doesn't like this order. His tail twitches in irritation, and his eyes subtly glance to his fellow councilmen, gauging their reactions, seeing if he could get away with defiance.

He almost certainly could, in Gura's eyes. She can count perhaps a single ally among the council, and old General Gwight does not have nearly the sway of other council members outside of matters of war. Still, perhaps Hammarish decided it is not worth the trouble, or he simply wishes to placate her, for he agrees to her demand with a dramatic sigh and an almost scornful: "Of course Your Majesty."

Gura doesn't say anything more. An agreement is an agreement, no matter how begrudging. No need to salt the wound and antagonize them any more.

The rest of the meeting is a blur. She listens, of course, but she has precious political leeway, there's only so much she can do before the council will start to shut her down. She's heard the whispers from lesser nobility and the public that she's a lazy queen, allowing the council to do all her work for her, but that's hardly by choice. Her influence has to be carefully rationed out until she can finally be rid of the co-rulership period and the shackles imposed by it.

It's a relief to finally get out of the council room after two hours of inane discussion. Gura sweeps out of the room as soon as possible; a white-knuckled grip on her trident as she walks down the halls. She doesn't have to walk, in fact there are a few council members swimming past her as she does so, but she prefers it. Things look quite different when seen from the floor; more majestic. Staying so low allows buildings and rooms to loom and feel large in a way that swimming doesn't always afford.

It's easy to feel the palace is small when you can swim so high it looks like a toy.

Gura at least counts herself lucky that most of the council isn't around too often. The full council only assembles for one weekend every two months, but thanks to the 'surrogacy' thing they've enforced she can't actually make significant decisions on her own. Just about the only thing she has control over is the capital dukedom due to its technically not being covered by the responsibilities of being Queen.

Politics. Nothing can be simple.

Still, she much prefers the tedious work of administration to anything to do with the council, and if that isn't a damning piece of evidence for their distastefulness, she doesn't know what is.

Chapter Text

It takes nearly a week for Duke Hammarish to send her the message; longer than it should have, but the reason quickly becomes apparent. Likely to get it out of his own hair, Duke Hammarish had the messenger sent alongside the message.

Small, purple, with a simple face more akin to a person's than an octopus, the mutant could hardly be considered 'threatening' in Gura's eyes. Its eyes are perpetually closed, and it makes no fuss about being contained within the small metal cage barely larger than it is. In fact, its expression could be described as 'serene'.

Despite having closed eyes, the mutant seems to keep its 'gaze' on her while the servant sent to deliver it gives a quick summary of what they know, and Gura has to wave off a guard that moves to take the mutant.

"I'll handle this thing myself." Gura says, grabbing the cage from the servant with one hand. The mutant makes a small noise like a chirp, and wiggles the little nubs it has on its head. The guard nods- at least some people don't try to obstruct her every action- and she quickly whisks herself away to somewhere private to look over this message from the humans.

The little mutant sits patiently in the cage when she puts it down on the table. The servant never actually told Gura what was supposed to be so dangerous about it, and Gura has half a mind to think Duke Hammarish was exaggerating. It would be foolish to send something dangerous as the sole messenger to a new diplomatic contact.

Tentatively, she sticks a finger through the bars and pokes the mutant on the head. It chirps again, and once more wiggles its nubs.

"Terrifying." Gura snorts to herself. She tickles the mutant's head and it coos at her, leaning into her fingers. "A regular monster, aren't you?"

"Wah."

"Were you causing trouble for the duke?"

"Waaah."

"Well good, he deserves it." Gura chuckles. "If I let you out, do you promise not to cause trouble for me?"

The mutant nods.

Gura blinks rapidly. She didn't imagine that, right? Can the mutant actually understand her?

Well, that's only more reason to let it out. If there's even a slight chance this thing is intelligent, she can't justify keeping it in the cage.

With a sigh, she uses the key she was given to open the cage. The mutant crawls out, shakes itself off, and calmly takes to the water, floating serenely like a jellyfish. It swims over and nudges the stone tablet that is the humans' message, and chirps at her again.

"Alright, alright." She mutters, taking the tablet properly in hand. She wouldn't say she's good at reading human languages, but she does know a f-

Oh, wait, it's in Atlantean. Old-fashioned Atlantean, admittedly, and she can see some words in the wrong order, but that's no worse reading than her poetry class. Clearly Duke Hammarish didn't even look at the tablet, because this is in no way 'human gibberish'.

Formal greetings from Empress Ina'nis Ninomae of the Empire of United Kingdoms.

It is my honor to present to the Sovereignty of Atlantis, through the efforts of my loyal takodachi, this offer of communication and diplomacy. The world of the surface is seeing a rapid expansion of technology of all sorts, and I would not have the Atlantean people left out. Beyond that, I believe the Empire and Atlantis are capable of mutual benefit. The deep sea is mostly unknown to us, and we have much to trade in return for knowledge if this pleases you.

Pardon the brevity of this message. A stone tablet is rather heavy for a takodachi, even if a political greeting would usually demand something much more extensive. If you wish to speak in return, simply give your message to the takodachi, be that in writing or some magical recording device.

I look forward to your response.

Empress Ina'nis Ninomae.

Gura reads it several times, eyes tracing the intricate writing in a flowing script, rather unlike the sharp marks strokes that define Atlantean official inscriptions. The mutant- the takodachi?- has settled on the table now, watching her… or maybe it's just staring at her crown. It does glow, after all.

It's probably a bad idea, she can only imagine what the council members would say, but that's that exact thought that spurs her to remove her crown and put it on the takodachi's head.

"Wah." It says to her. It raises a tentacle to touch the crown. "Wah!"

Well, at least one of them likes the crown. Gura is of the opinion it's uncomfortable and far too rough to be a proper hair ornament. It's a truly ancient piece of jewelry, crafted largely from coral (long dead at this point, but magically preserved) and a few magic gems, it's hell on her hair. If it wasn't a historic piece of regalia she wouldn't wear it at all. "Careful. It's not the most comfy thing to wear long-term."

"Waaah." The takodachi nods sagely. The crown falls off its head and thumps on the table. It stares for a moment. "...wah."

"Me too buddy." She sighs. "Looks better on you than me at least."

The takodachi's tentacles flutter. "Wah!"

While the takodachi tries to maneuver the crown back onto its head, Gura leans back and stares at the roof. She knows what she's technically supposed to do, which would be to wait and present it at the next council meeting, but she also knows if she does that it's going to be seen as not worth their time.

"...how sneaky can you be?" Gura asks the takodachi.

"Wah." The takodachi responds in a whisper. It presses itself as flat as it can get (it practically pancakes) and slowly inches along the table like some sort of creeping stain. "Wah…"

"Not quite what I meant, but sure." Gura thinks, holding back a dumb smile. "I'm going to give you a message, and I need you to avoid being seen by anyone important on your way out, alright?"

The takodachi pops up from its flat shape and tilts its head at her. "Wah?"

"I'm in charge, but my council… doesn't always have the realm's best interests at heart." Gura says, leaning down to be eye level with the takodachi. It's a bit strange to try and make eye contact when the thing refuses to open its eyes, but it is not too difficult all things considered. "They won't want anything to do with 'simple' humans, but Atlantis can't stay an island forever. Metaphorically anyways. So can you be a sneaky little octopus on your way back?"

"Wah!" The tako wiggles its nubs and brings up a tentacle in a salute. "Wah-wah, wah! Wah wah wah wah!"

"Good soldier." She says on instinct. She's too used to commanding troops. To soften the words, she tentatively pats the takodachi on the head. It chirps and leans into the motion. "Just give me a minute, I need to find something to write with. We don't use physical writing as much as you humans do down here. Water makes it difficult."

"Waaah."

The tako patiently waits for her to grab a magic inscriber and a square roll of enchanted seaweed. With deft, sharp strokes the inscriber lays a light layer of magic on the surface of the seaweed, creating words in inky black on the pale green surface. Something simple, mostly formal, but with a hint of levity; mirroring the Empress' tone.

Official doctrine demands the utmost formality, but if her parents and her time spent serving as a general taught her anything: unrelenting formality is a great way to keep things under control, but it's hard to get positive developments out of it. It is a tool to maintain. Improvement requires a less rigid approach.

That, and she'd prefer to actually enjoy talking to someone she works with for once. Even just honest politeness would be a breath of fresh water at this point.

An unrealistic wish, maybe, but she can dream. Her response is otherwise quite generic; getting too familiar or specific too quickly is simply not a risk she's willing to take, now matter how friendly the overtures.

"Here." She rolls up the seaweed into a scroll and ties it with a small stone chain, embossed with Atlantis' royal insignia. "Be careful."

The takodachi salutes again, then carefully grabs the scroll in its mouth and flutters off. Gura sighs and sits back in her chair.

Now: she waits.

Chapter Text

When she sent the reply, she was expecting to wait weeks, maybe months, for another response. Messages aren't easily carried between the surface and Atlantis, much less to the more distant lands (as Gura knows full well the human empires around her, and 'The Empire of United Kingdoms' is not one of them).

So she's mildly surprised to find the takodachi calmly sitting on the same table she sent it away from a mere three days later with another stone tablet in front of it.

"Wah."

"You're fast."

"Wah!" The takodachi wiggles its nubs proudly. "Wah wah wah!"

"You don't say."

"Wah." The takodachi says matter-of-factly, as if Gura can at all understand it.

"You were unnoticed?"

"Wah!"

…hopefully that's a 'yes'. She pats the takodachi on the head (it coos happily) and sits down to read the tablet.

To Queen Gawr of Atlantis,

Oh Poseidon; 'Queen Gawr' makes her sound so much like her mother.

The Empire and I are glad to hear from you. There was some concern that Atlantis would not be open to outside contact, but it would seem our fears were unfounded. I have taken the liberty of imbuing the messenger with point-to-point teleportation capabilities to shorten communication times; the teleportation points being outside of Atlantean territory as it is known to us, of course.

Gura glances at the takodachi, which has settled itself onto the table and somewhat sunken into its own body like some sort of melting food. It's hard to believe something like that can teleport. Still, that speeds things up considerably, and might allow her to get a lot done before the council can interfere.

Not that Gura has much of an idea what she should be 'getting done'. The only existing protocol for human contact is basically to keep them at a distance and keep reinforcing Atlantis' isolationist tendencies, and that's not very useful here.

Though… maybe there is one tiny thing she can glean from it. A map might be useful, and figuring out where Atlantis' borders lie in the wider world. The maps they currently possess are woefully outdated and based more on ocean mostly underwater geographic boundaries with very little consideration for land more than just shorelines. She doesn't even know where this 'United Empire' is located. There's nothing like it on the old maps, not that she expected there to be.

Also, Gura is slightly concerned about this human casually mentioning they can imbue something with teleportation abilities. Teleportation is not easily managed by Atlantean mages, so that speaks volumes about this Empress' power. Then again, from what she's aware most humans don't communicate via possibly-sentient mutant octopi either.

The side of her that was (and perhaps still is) a military officer sees this teleportation with wariness. Teleportation of any sort is a massive tactical advantage.

And then there's the side of her that enjoys being able to talk with someone she doesn't hate and doesn't really care that they can teleport small friendly octopi.

I would love to write in more depth, but I am still perfecting a spell to efficiently waterproof paper and ink. However, I have made good progress. Expect to be delivered a proper letter instead of a tablet within the month.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Empress Ninomae.

'Hope to hear from you soon'. How informal, especially for an empress. It brings a smile to Gura's face. As unprofessional as that might be from the Empress, and as much as she knows the council would scoff about it, Gura appreciates it. Really, whatever annoys the council is good with her.

"Not giving me a whole lot to say in response, huh?" Gura hums. There's nothing to directly respond to this time. Looks like she has to take the initiative. Might as well ask about that map… and now that she thinks of it, she should probably check that her human languages are understandable, and that she can actually read whatever language the Empress is probably more used to writing in. She'll include a request for a sample of their language in her next message.

Maybe… maybe some sort of gift is in order? Well, less a gift and more some sort of symbolic token? She may as well engineer some goodwill, especially if she's asking for something in return. She doesn't know what the Empress would value, so perhaps something generically valuable would be a good idea. A gem, perhaps.

Granted, the treasury would notice if she 'borrowed' a gem, so she'll have to donate one of her own.

That's fine, she has plenty. Her dad was big on jewelry, and while she'd never give away any of his personal collection (even if he's no longer here to defend their 'absolute necessity to the integrity of the Kingdom') he has plenty of spares he wouldn't mind her giving out.

That's partially how her trident got its modern look. The royal trident had a much more simple look before her father got his hands on it. It used to be a solid shaft of classic sky-blue Atlantean enchanted metal; forged in the early days of the kingdom and quickly became more ceremonial than functional, for the longest time it was used only for ritual shark hunts and to look impressive while sitting atop the throne.

It was her father that decorated it with a fine layer of enchanted sapphire dust, rendering it virtually indestructible and able to be summoned with a flick of the wrist. It was he that embedded another sapphire into the joining point of the three prongs to enchant the trident with incredible hydrodynamics, allowing it to be thrown far further than a weapon of its kind should be able to, and the ability to conduct lightning.

It was her father that turned Atlantis' Trident into the Trident of Poseidon in the public conscience.

That might have something to do with her selecting a sapphire to send. She doesn't care too much for gems, but she does prefer sapphires, if only because her father did. She'd send gold if she had any, she knows humans like gold, but Atlantis doesn't have a whole lot of that. They've always preferred other things for currency.

The takodachi seems to like it too. It chirps and turns the gem over with its tentacles, poking and prodding and playing while Gura takes a few minutes to write up another message, seal it, and hand it to the takodachi.

"Can you carry both of these at once?" She asks.

The little mutant grabs the message with its mouth and the gem with a few tentacles. "Wuh!"

The takodachi flutters off, and Gura sits back in her chair… for all of two minutes before she has business to attend to.

Chapter Text

It takes a week for the Empress' next message.

The object the takodachi is proudly standing over on the table is not a tablet. Well, there's not just one takodachi either. There's three more of them floating about the room, though one of them (Gura is assuming the same one that delivered her earlier messages) is on the table like usual.

Anyhow.

There are three objects on the table. One is a scroll, the second is… a larger scroll, and the third is a small box.

The takodachi on the table nudges the small scroll towards her, so she looks at that first.

The small scroll turns out to be the message, which in hindsight is rather obvious considering it resembles her own messages in many ways, albeit with different color of writing surface and a strange mark holding the surface together with some sort of symbol made out of it.

It feels like a shame to break the symbol, but she doesn't see any other way to open the scroll.

With the benefit of a more efficient writing method, the Empress' message has expanded considerably in length, and her handwriting has become even more absurdly elegant to the point of being difficult to read.

My dear Queen.

Dramatic. Gura already finds herself smiling.

I am happy to report that I have perfected the spell for waterproofing paper; or parchment in this case. I will admit to being partial to parchment. It has an older, more professional feel to it I believe. Of course, paper has been a mainstay of the Empire for over a century at this point, so it is only I that continues to favor such an archaic writing surface.

Perhaps it is habit. I still find myself reaching for quill and ink to write when most of the scribes and officials of my palace use metal pens; and they most certainly use paper.

Parchment, for reference, is specially prepared animal skin. Paper is either the remains of old linens or wood pulp (wood pulp being far more popular and practical in recent years). Quills are modified bird feathers (I'm afraid I must trust that you know what a bird is; I have no easy way of explaining them in a vacuum) whereas most pens are constructions of metal with a chamber to hold ink.

None of those tend to hold up well underwater, hence the need for the spell.

Pardon my rambling. Included with this letter is the map you requested; freshly drawn from our most up-to-date information, with information noted in both Atlantean and English (the main language of the Empire) for your convenience. It is enchanted in the same way this letter is. You will also find a box, which contains a gift from myself to you in thanks for the lovely sapphire you sent with your last message. Such a generous offering could not go unanswered. I hope you understand.

Additionally, I would like to propose that the Empire send a proper diplomat to Atlantis. Not for permanent residence of course, merely a visit. Words and gifts are all well and good, but nothing quite compared to an in-person meeting.

If Atlantis is not prepared to accept visitors or must restrict access, I understand, but it would be quite appreciated. Atlantis is welcome to send someone in return, of course. The Empire welcomes a visit.

I eagerly await your response,

Empress Ninomae.

Gura can't say she isn't tempted, but there's no way she could hide that from the council. She needs to find a way around the council.

She puts that thought aside for the moment. She has a map and a gift to investigate.

With barely-contained eagerness, she unwraps the large scroll to reveal the map… and stares in faint shock as she sees, for the first time, the true scope of the planet. Atlantis (the city, not the empire, as the human understandably does not know the full scope of it) is represented by a single labeled dot in a sea between the two human cities of Palma and Algiers.

She's familiar with those places, if not by those names. As a former general, she once did a tour of all borders and learned all they had recorded of their immediate neighbors. While the exact lines are slightly different, Spain, Morocco, and the Ottomans have familiar borders.

It perturbs her to see the sheer scale of the Ottoman Empire, and even more so to gaze upon the vast swath of land that is the Russian Empire.

The Empire of United Kingdoms is comparatively small in comparison, at least until she notes that there is a massive chunk of land across the sea also belonging to it, as well as a few smaller scattered holdings in various random locations, though the capital is noted to be on a moderate sized island just north of them, past a country called France.

She taps the table with her finger, absorbing as much information as possible from the parchment in front of her. She can't help but notice how many of the countries of the shriveled landmass slightly north seem to control territory across the seas. Humans have much more of an expansion drive than atlanteans, clearly.

(Well, that was rather obvious by the fact that most of the world is apparently occupied by them according to this map.)

It takes more force of will than she'd like to admit to pull herself away from the map. She only has so much time before she has to attend to business, and she would prefer to open her gift now rather than have it hanging in the back of her mind all day.

Protocol would dictate she should have someone else open the gift in case it is trapped… but she's frankly more durable than any of her subjects or the other nobles. She's best suited to handle any injury over anyone else anyhow; royal status be damned.

The box is small; about the size of her fist. It's made of some sort of tough fabric pulled over a frame with a small latch to keep the front closed. Sort of like a chest, but in no way locked. She can open the latch with no issue.

Inside the box is a single item, carefully placed on a cushion, is a bracelet. The main band is gold, and fashioned to look like a pair of tentacles wrapping around each other in opposite directions, coming to the centerpiece which is beautifully cut sapphire nestled in a small wreath of pearls.

This blows her gift out of the water. In hindsight, maybe she should have made her gift a showcase of Altantean craftsmanship rather than a random gem, but she was trying to draw attention.

Gah, she hates politics. Sending a single puny gem probably reflects badly on them, doesn't it? Her mother would be shaking her head at her daughter right now.

She carefully places the bracelet back in the box and slides it and the letter into her pocket while tucking the map under her arm. She needs to get this out of sight before one of the council's servants sees and tells them about it.

"Wah?"

Right, the takodachis. "I'm going to need a day or two to figure out if Atlantis is ready for a visit." She lies. That's not the problem at all. Or, well, it is, but the council is even more of an issue. "I hate to ask you to wait, but is that possible?"

"Wah." The lead takodachi nods, unbothered. "Wah wah wah."

She has no idea what that means, but she hopes it's an affirmation and not 'you have one day before we riot'.

Well, that's two more things on her plate: writing a return letter, and figuring out how in Poseidon's name she's going to host an official visit without the council getting in the way. She's going to have to be careful about this…

Chapter Text

Gura calmly laces her fingers together, staring down Hammarish as he stands with hands planted on the table, glaring accusingly at her.

"I thought it was rather clear, Duke Hammarish." She says calmly, keeping eye contact with him while ignoring the scrutinizing looks of the rest of the council. She may be under the 'guidance' of the council, but they do not hold all the power. They cannot deny everything she does. They know she tolerates them because she must and neither side wants a political spat, but if they push her too far they know that's what will happen. The nobles, at the very least, value the illusion of unity. They know the others will turn on them if they are the one to cause the queen to start fighting back. "I was given the messenger and the message, and therefore given the responsibility of dealing with it. I have done nothing but follow what was logically entailed from the last meeting."

Gura will readily admit to herself that what she's saying is mostly bullshit, but politics is nothing if not the art of making bullshit sound vaguely reasonable- or at least incomprehensible enough that people will go along with it without actually understanding a word.

Hammarish takes a deep breath and stands up straight. "Need I remind you that humans cannot breathe water? Such a visit is simply infeasible, your Majesty."

"And it would be a mark of shame on the Atlantean people if we could not accommodate for such." She argues back. "We boast the best aquamancers in the known world. If we cannot back up such a claim for foreign royalty, our boasts are less than a sham."

"Atlantis is no place for humanity, your Majesty." Hammarish retorts. "We have made every effort to keep Atlantis a bastion of our people, our culture, for thousands of years. It would not do to allow foreign influences to corrupt what we have made."

Gura can feel a vein pulsing beneath her eye. She knew the nobles were speciest, that is no surprise. They rather loudly speak their opinion of 'foreign' atlanteans from far-flung settlements or other smaller kingdoms or lost tribes, much less the humans up above. That said, it's somehow more offensive to her Hammarish trying to sugarcoat it than just admit it outright.

Besides, it's not like Atlantean culture isn't already plenty corrupt as-is. She's looking at a prime example right now. A whole room of examples practically, barring General Gwight.

"You speak so lowly of the Atlantean people, Duke Hammarish? You think they will crumble to the first human they see?" Gura asks, arching an eyebrow. "Need they be so coddled that the mere presence of a human is cause for concern? You offend them, Duke Hammarish, and through them, me."

Hammarish curls his lip ever so slightly. "Not so. I worry what corruption the humans may attempt to wreak in their envy and powerlust."

"Yeah, you have experience with that, don't you?" Gura thinks, sneering internally. "You are jumping to conclusions there, Duke. You have every right to be suspicious, but in case you've forgotten our code of ethics specifically dictates that the government and crown should act in fairness to every man, woman, and child- and in no way does it specify only atlanteans. Distasteful or not, we are obliged by our own core tenants to treat the humans with fairness, and barring entry based on easily solvable issues and species or culture-based paranoia is no fairness."

Hammarish was already getting frustrated, and her repeated rebuffs have only made that worse. Still, her assumption proves true, and he backs down before a proper conflict can ensue. "Then we have little choice than to leave it to you, your Majesty. Simple as it supposedly is, you should have no trouble managing such a visit on your own."

Oh good, that saves her the trouble of keeping them out of her business. "Of course. I planned for nothing less. The Empress' envoy shall be accommodated and sent on their way after I see that any business they bring to us is dealt with appropriately."

"Including refusal should it not be worth our time, of course." Hammarish says pointedly, almost glaring at her now.

"The Queen understands her duties, sit down Hammarish." General Gwight says gruffly, cutting through the tension of the confrontation by reminding Hammarish that there are, in fact, others in the room. Despite his great age, the general sits straight in his chair; long silver hair tied in a ponytail that trails down his back. It may have thinned as he's gotten older, just as his uniform has become worn with small cuts that need to be stitched, but he only looks more regal for it. "She has taken the task off your plate; and I might remind you that you expressed disinterest in handling it yourself beforehand. It is poor taste to refuse a kindness merely out of spite."

Gwight's words don't usually hold too much weight outside of military matters, but here it serves as a decisive blow. No one has spoken in support of Hammarish, and even the old general is telling him to stand down.

Hammarish sits. He glowers for the rest of the meeting.

That just leaves one last problem for Gura: figuring out how she's actually going to accommodate a human in a reasonable amount of time.

Chapter Text

"What do you mean at the front gate!?" Gura hisses. "How are they breathing?"

"We don't know, Your Majesty." The soldier says breathlessly. "But they don't seem to be having any issues. They were content to wait."

"I can't keep them waiting." Gura says, scooping up her trident and throwing the report she was reading aside. She ensures her crown is properly affixed before turning to the solider. "The front gate of the city, or the palace?"

"The palace, Your Majesty."

Gura doesn't need to hear anything more before she swims off through the doors. How did the Empire get a diplomat here in less than a day since she sent her reply? Were they already coming without waiting for the okay? Is this some unknown technology?

The diplomat's presence is fairly obvious just by the small crowd that has gathered near the gate. Gura can only hope that the guards are doing their job and no one has made a poor impression already. This is why she needed time to plan for this…

The gate is largely ceremonial. A side-effect of everyone being able to swim means that any location not enclosed from all directions is easily accessible by just about anyone. It's the guards that are the true defense of the palace.

That's why Gura simply swims over the gate, noting silently, and approvingly, how a few guards instantly move to flank her. Their training hasn't slacked, good.

The crowd is relatively small thankfully, and the guards have indeed moved to protect the diplomat.

Speaking of the diplomat.

Gura doesn't know what she was expecting exactly, but a regal woman in an open-shoulder black dress with purple ornamentation and a window under her chest- as well as quite the short skirt on that dress, along with a single stocking and glove was not it. The woman also has some sort of small orange hair ornament in her hair in the shape of five diamonds, two chunks of hair under her ears look oddly squishy and fused together, and she has little flaps on her head like an octopus. Her hair is otherwise straight and falls down her back in a sheet, somehow not tangled by the movement of the water.

She also has a book with a red eye painted on the front floating over her head, which is mildly disconcerting. Her eyes are firmly closed, though the way her head is tilted it appears as if she is still 'looking' at the crowd over her shoulder.

"Well done, soldiers." Is the first thing Gura says upon landing next to the diplomat. "Give me a moment." She turns to the lady, who in turn turns to her. "I assume you are the diplomat from the Empire, my lady?"

"Yes. You must be Queen Gawr." The woman says. Her voice is… wrong. It's crisp, clear, and almost a purr in her ears, but it doesn't thrum. Voices underwater need a certain force to them or else they simply don't carry far, hence why Atlantean voices above water tend to be quite screechy without practice, but this woman doesn't have the same melodious tone that underwater speech necessitates. Her voice comes through as if passing through air. Nonetheless, she bows politely. "I am Lady Ninomae."

Ninomae? Like the Empress. Must be a relative. For all she knows, this is a distant cousin who happens to share the same surname. "It's an honor, Lady Ninomae, to have a representative of the Empire visit Atlantis. The first human in much time, no less."

"The honor is mine, my Queen." Lady Ninomae says with a sweeping bow that incorporates her whole body and settles it into a one-leg kneel. She keeps one hand extended expectantly, however, in Gura's direction.

In the interest of not looking like a fool in front of her subjects, Gura takes the hand despite having no idea-

She freezes at the sensation of lips brushing across her bare hand. It's probably only a few seconds, but she swears she can feel Lady Ninomae tracing her knuckles with her mouth for those few seconds.

Gura does not pull her hand away. She cannot show weakness. Her hand feels like it's burning as Lady Ninomae turns to 'look' up at her through closed eyes. "My greatest thanks for greeting me in person, I hope I have not arrived at a poor time."

"Not at all." She does not stutter. She can't afford to. "Please, if you would just follow me…"

The guards, who have clearly been listening for their cue, fall in around them. The gates swing open (unnecessary, but good for dramatic effect at least) and Gura leads Lady Ninomae in by the hand.

The logical thing to do would probably be to let go of the Lady's hand so she can properly gesture and because it's inviting a stumble or unintended tug, and that sort of thing can't be risked during a crucial first impression, but at the same time she can't think of a smooth way to release her hand.

She is not prepared. She expected more time. She doesn't have a tour planned, and she has no idea how long whatever breathing spell Lady Ninomae managed will last.

"I do have to ask how much time you have, Lady Ninomae." Gura says, opting to go with the most pressing matter first. "How long does your breathing spell last?"

"Oh, it is no spell." Lady Ninomae hums. Her thumb brushes over the back of Gura's hand, leaving a tingly sensation behind. "Simply passive magic. I have as much time as I can spare from my duties."

Her duties? Are Empire diplomats so busy that even a trip to a newly contacted country can only be allocated so much time? She assumed with humanity's excess of manpower there would be no such issue, but apparently she was mistaken. "And that would be…?"

"A day." Lady Ninomae says simply. "Of course, I will be able to return in the future with due speed so you need not worry about grand lapses in contact. I could have perhaps waited for a time of more sustained free time, but my enthusiasm got the best of me."

Enthusiasm? Perhaps this diplomat is not as professional as she was expecting. That's fine. She can work with that. There are worse things than a diplomat excited to deal with them. She can be professional enough for both of them. The council would wish her to take advantage of this, but she has no interest in such exploitation.

That said, she was not prepared to only have a day to sort out… everything. She doesn't even know what everything is. She isn't prepared at all. What should she discuss? What are her priorities? What does she need to be careful about saying?

Perhaps that was the intent: to throw her off balance for better reconnaissance and hopefully extract more information. How devious. She should have been more wary of the Empress' kindness. Politics is still politics.

"Nonsense, my lady." Gura says, drawing on her military training to feign confidence and remain calm in the face of this unexpected variable. The guards open the palace doors for them, and finally they're inside and away from (most) prying eyes. "I would not have issued the return letter to your empress if Atlantis was not prepared to receive an envoy." Lies, but she has to maintain some semblance of competence in Lady Ninomae's eyes. "Would you like a tour? Straight to business? Perhaps a meal?"

"Whatever option that will keep you around." Lady Ninomae says with a serene smile.

…is that flirtation? That sounds like flirtation. She really needs to be professional enough for both of them then. "That would be all of the above, Lady Ninomae. This is a grand moment in Atlantean history, I must personally ensure it goes to plan." Mostly because there is no plan.

"I see." The diplomat nods sagely. "I'll admit, while the wise move would surely be business, I'm far more interested in learning. This is new to me, and the Empire as a whole. A better understanding of what it means to be Atlantean will surely aid in any future endeavors."

Perhaps Gura was mistaken again. That's a surprisingly prudent answer. "I'd give you a tour of the city, but I'm afraid that would be less than subtle and there would be far more dealing with civilians than education happening."

"Quite understandable. I can settle for conversation; assuming you know your history, of course." Lady Ninomae hums with a somewhat impish smile on their face. "Unless you have a different suggestion?"

It takes a moment, but Gura does, in fact, have another suggestion. "There are plenty of murals around the palace, my lady, that can be used in an impromptu history lesson."

"'Impromptu' implies this was not meticulously planned, your Majesty." Ninomae says, obviously teasing. "But I am sure it was merely a misspeak, yes?"

"Of course." She would be a fool indeed to underestimate this diplomat. Clearly she is far more shrewd than her friendly and open personality would suggest. A proper diplomat indeed.

Thankfully, if there was one thing drilled into her head by her tutors it was history. Atlanteans are extremely, perhaps excessively, proud of theirs.

That doesn't mean she's ever had to teach it though.

Recounting Atlantean history (the abbreviated version at least) takes a good few hours as Lady Ninomae digs into every little bit of information she mentions and Gura has to keep the topic moving to avoid spending all their time on it.

(Atlantean history is defined primarily by two things: expansion, and art. Expansion eras were rare and rarely lasted long, but brought radical shifts. Art eras tend to be a slower shift and evolution of cultural ideas and values that generally have a few still-existing landmarks, works, and buildings symbolizing them still around. Perhaps it would be more accurate to call them 'cultural' eras, but historians have called them art eras so Gura won't argue.)

Their culture moves slowly; it always has. Without outside influence there's little to prod change. While that's allowed them to gain relative stability over the centuries, keeping at bay many basic problems (food supply, employment, etc) with so much time to address them, it has also made them somewhat stagnant and inflexible. It is only art that ever seems to move the thoughts of the people, and it is rarely a swift process especially considering it is the nobles and the current king that need to be appropriately influenced to get any sweeping changes made.

Still, Lady Ninomae's interest makes the normally dull topic much more entertaining to recount than it would be otherwise.

All the while she speaks, straining her memory to remember every detail of her lessons, Lady NInomae listens attentively. However, she never releases Gura's hand. Her grip is deceptively gentle, but somehow she's always in the right position to stop their hands from slipping apart around corners and such.

It's really quite distracting. It has to be intentional.

"So are all atlanteans concentrated in the Mediterranean sea?" Lady Ninomae presses. "There are sources- unreliable, mind you- that place Atlantis as a whole elsewhere, and while that is clearly not true could it imply your people are present elsewhere?"

"It's possible." Gura says slowly, thinking with a frown. "Deep ocean doesn't agree with us too well; not a lot grows down there. That said, we would be plenty capable of surviving it so long as we bring supplies or are particularly adept at scavenging or hunting… I cannot say for certain, but the possibility of outlying atlantean settlements is not to be ruled out. They would not, however, strictly fall under our purview."

"You do not speak for all Atlanteans?"

"That depends on what sense of the term you mean. I speak for the people of the Kingdom of Atlantis, not for atlanteans as a species." Gura explains. "We are, to my knowledge, the only atlantean authority on the planet so perhaps we have some default investment in every member of our species, but we- or at least I- have never claimed global authority on it.

Lady Ninomae hums for a second, then nods. "A well-measured response, your Highness. Thank you for the history lesson, and indulging my questions."

"Of course."

"What say you to dinner, and then business?" Lady Ninomae asks. It's a very logical question all things considered, but the slight purr in her voice makes it sound like she's insinuating something.

Or maybe her imagination is being a bit too active. "Perfectly acceptable."

Now if only she had prepared the cooks for this instead of mindlessly getting lost in talking to Lady Ninomae. She has to quickly flag down a servant and get them to alert the cooks to get something prepared in the next hour while she finds a way to try and keep Lady Ninomae distracted.

"This is all part of your plan, correct?" Lady Ninomae asks coyly.

Is she being mocked? Gura feels like she's being mocked. That's the only explanation she has for the constricted feeling in her chest despite the lack of malice in Lady Ninomae's tone. Her subconscious must be picking up something her active mind isn't.

(Maybe it's the book. It's shockingly inconspicuous and easy to forget about for a floating tome thicker than her arm, but whenever Gura does focus on it she gets an uncomfortable tingling in the back of her mind.)

That leaves her in the somewhat unenviable position of needing to distract the sharp-minded diplomat for an hour as the cooks whip something up. That's not enough time for a full tour, so she needs something brief.

She wishes, for the first time in a long time, that she actually bothered with the recreation options of the palace just so she has something to show to Lady Ninomae.

(The palace has more art, right? There's a whole sculpture garden in the back. The only problem is that she doesn't have those sculptures memorized, so if Lady Ninomae asks a question she'll have her lack of preparation exposed.)

Gura is aware she's been leading Lady Ninomae down the hallways towards the back of the palace, but that was to buy time to think of something to do which she has thus far failed in doing.

"I don't suppose you have somewhere to sit?" Lady Ninomae asks suddenly, and squeezes Gura's hand ever so slightly. "It would not do to start something only to be interrupted by dinner, yes?"

"Of course." Yes. She can work with that. Just conversation. She quickly steers Lady Ninomae away from the sculpture garden towards an interior sitting area just inside the back entrance. It's intended mostly for parties, of course, with the door leading out to the sculpture garden for guests to mingle about while having an indoor section for dancing and so on, but most of the time it simply serves as a large hallway between other locations with a few tables off to the sides.

Lady Ninomae puts up no protest in taking a seat; no protest beyond still refusing to release her and forcing Gura to take a seat next to her rather than across the table or else have to put force into freeing her hand.

Right. This is fine. This will-

"So where were you going to lead me? Let me hear about this incredible plan." Lady Ninomae says, keeping their entwined hands on the table and running her thumb over the back of Gura's hand while calmly propping up her head with her other arm and giving Gura her full attention.

"Poseidon have mercy." She's not the politician her mother was; how is she supposed to make up an entire plan in less than a minute? A battle strategy she could manage, but a political strategy takes time. "I…"

Lady Ninomae tilts her head, a small smile on her face. She makes no sign that Gura's hesitation is in any way unusual, but after a moment of no response she hums: "Perhaps that was a rude question, I would not want to spoil myself after all. Please, instead, I should give you the chance to ask questions of me."

She was a fool to assume she was ever in control. Lady Ninomae is very clearly aware of her lack of preparation and is toying with her. What if this 'chance' is just another way to pick her apart? Suddenly, Gura feels a lot less sure about this whole meeting. She was excited to have an envoy before, but perhaps it was a bad idea. She refuses to think the council was right, but perhaps she should have been more wary of inviting a human into Atlantis. "I suppose the pragmatic thing to do would be to ask about the Empire."

"Most likely." Lady Ninomae agrees. "What would you like to know specifically?"

Well she wants to ask about the Empress… but that feels selfish, irresponsible even. Surely there's something more important she can be asking. "I don't suppose you could bring me abreast of the Empire's history in an hour?"

"Not the full history by any means, but a summary might be possible." Lady Ninomae says. "I will have to start before the Empress's assent as, unfortunately, some of the old British Empire's actions still very much haunt the current world."

Getting a crash-course in what Lady Ninomae calls 'Colonialism' eats up far more time than she was expecting, though some of that is her own fault as she asks far more questions than is likely necessary. It is certainly unusual to hear an envoy speak so openly about their nation's faults rather than try to regale her with their great accomplishments.

Still, Gura can appreciate the honesty. The reason the Empire has so much spread-out land is because they took it from others; often through force and/or deception, but sometimes through marriages and other slightly more diplomatic means.

It's a surprise to learn that the Empire actually has a nearby holding. A small holding admittedly, but easily reachable in a few days of swimming. It's known as Gibraltar. Gura will remember that; she'll need to pay a visit sometime soon… if she can get away from the council without them suspecting anything.

That's a problem for another day.

It isn't to her plan, but dinner ends up being brought to them. It seems her question session took well over an hour and the cooks got tired of waiting, or maybe the servants simply took initiative. Supposedly she has been less rigid with them than her parents, though Gura doesn't quite buy it.

The servants manage to fit quite a spread on the table, which shouldn't be all that surprising considering it's made to fit ten guests at once. That said, it's more than the both of them can reasonably eat unless Lady Ninomae has a truly ravenous appetite.

Still, such a large spread gives her plenty of chances to sample what Atlantis has to offer. Of course, that involves many varieties of fish, but there's some delicacies sprinkled in there too. Specially cultivated seagrasses that have a shockingly sweet taste, tenderized shark fin, salt-cleaned crab, and several others.

Gura is aware humans tend to cook their food, which simply isn't possible down here, but atlanteans have other ways of ensuring their meat is safe to eat. Magic works of course, but much of their meat is also scorched over thermal vents to kill germs before being served.

Lady Ninomae eats delicately, using her provided meal trident and knife expertly and taking small bites that leave Gura with absolutely no doubt more than half this food is going uneaten. Still, she samples a little bit of everything, taking the spread as a buffet to grab pieces from. She mulls over each bit of food no matter how minor, never favoring one food until she's tasted everything, and only then settling on some of some of the spiced fish and plant options.

Gura tries to be polite and doesn't inhale her food like she would on her own, though she still consumes easily thrice of what Lady Ninomae does.

Part of that is understandable. She has far more muscle than Lady Ninomae and atlanteans have a tail they need to sustain as well, but even so Gura feels like either she's eating too much or Lady Ninomae is eating painfully little.

Still, with how overkill the cooks went even in such a short time there is plenty of food left when they both finish. It's more than Gura could eat twice over. That's not unusual in itself, leftovers are normal because the cooks refuse to potentially underfeed guests, but the sheer amount of it is concerning. There's a fine line between having leftovers and just wasting food.

Should she comment on it? Maybe she should just say nothing and let Lady Ninomae assume this is normal, but she feels like she's been relying on that too much; allowing Lady Ninomae to assume competence or intention where there is none. "Well, I would be lying if I said this is not quite a few leftovers."

"I can have them dealt with." Lady Ninomae offers.

Gura blinks. That was far from what she was expecting to hear. Lady Ninomae was not accompanied by anything but her book (can the book eat? That would be… concerning), so she doesn't know what Lady Ninomae could possibly do about it.

Maybe that's why she ends up saying "by all means."

Lady Ninomae raises her gloved hand, and snaps her fingers.

"Wah."

Gura is too well trained to visibly startle, but the sound of a takodachi absolutely catches her by surprise. She turns her head a bit to find one (the usual one?) hovering next to her shoulder. It wiggles some of its tentacles at her, then 'wahs' at Lady Ninomae before floating down towards the table.

"Uh-"

"Wah!" Several more takodachi voices ring in her ears as a stead stream of them start pouring out from the various hallways and nooks. They settle on the table or on Lady Ninomae, all looking up at her, waiting. There has to be at least two dozen of them; there's no way she missed that many following them around the palace, is there?

"We are not going to finish. Please, enjoy, but do try not to make a mess. We are guests." Lady Ninomae murmurs, gesturing to the food.

"WAH!" The takodachis say as one before turning in unison and swarming over the food.

"Takos will eat just about anything." Lady Ninomae says, as if she knew they were there all along. "Don't worry, they can be clean whey they feel like it. Takos are surprisingly good at following orders."

"Wuh!" One of the takodachis chirps through a faceful of fish.

"No talking with your mouth full." Lady Ninomae scolds. The takodachi's nubs press against its head, it swallows, and then speaks again.

"W-Wah…"

"It's alright, just be polite."

The takodachis ('tako' is a good shorthand…) make short work of the remaining food, and soon there are a few dozen very contented takos sitting on the table. Some of them look normal, some of them look bloated, some look like they're passed out sleeping.

"So dramatic." Lady Ninomae sighs fondly. She reaches out a hand to pet one of the takos nearest to her, and it coos happily while fluttering its nubs. "Was it good?"

"Wah!"

"Don't forget to thank Queen Gawr."

"Waaah." The tako says, and turns to Gura. "Wah-wah!"

"...you're welcome." Gura says slowly, still trying to process the situation. She eyes Lady Ninomae. "Were they following us the whole time?"

"Oh no, not at all." She replies serenely. "I summoned them just a minute ago."

"Summoned?"

Once again Lady Ninomae snaps her fingers. Space distorts before Gura's very eyes, creating a mini whirlpool of darkness out of which pops a takodachi. It barely takes a second.

"Wah." The tako says, and flutters its tentacles. It boops Gura on the nose with one. "Wah!"

Apparently this envoy was far more powerful than Gura had originally assumed. Mass summoning is not usually a simple task; though she doesn't know the exact details of summoning takodachis. Still, simply snapping one's fingers to summon seems… unreasonable. Perhaps it's some form of instant teleportation rather than summoning?

Well, that would still be an absurd display of power. Clearly she should have been more wary. The Empire was not messing around. Thankfully Lady Ninomae was rather tame with her show of power, though that does put into perspective her general amusement and possible teasing. Atlantis, and she, must be quaint by the Empire's standards.

(If Lady Ninomae is simply a diplomat, Gura worries what it implies about the Empress.)

"Alright, back to the palace everyone." Lady Ninomae says softly. She laces her fingers together, then pulls them apart, tearing a dark void in the water. The takodachis obediently flutter through; some of them straining to carry their sleeping brethren, until there is only one tako left.

The one tako does not go to the portal. Instead, it settles on Gura's shoulder and nuzzles into her neck. Gura has to resist the urge to shudder at the ticklish feeling.

"Little one…" Ina says scoldingly; a smile on her face.

"Wah." The tako replies, not moving from its spot. "Wah-ah."

"Alright, but be good."

"Wah!"

Can Lady Ninomae understand what the takos are saying, or is she just guessing?

"Well your Majesty, I would love to stay longer, but I do have to be going." Lady Ninomae says, elegantly standing up from her chair. "You were a lovely host."

Gura blinks. Wait. "We haven't spoken business."

"Truly unfortunate. I suppose I'll just have to come back another time then, hmm?" Lady Ninomae says with a knowing smile. "Such a shame. I hope I won't be imposing on you."

Part of her wants to point out that she said she had all day, and another part of her wants to keep her mouth shut because she wants nothing more than to give Lady Ninomae a reason to return. "Not at all. Though please, give me more forewarning next time."

"Of course." Lady Ninomae hums.

"I hope this introduction to Atlantis will be enough for you to convey to your Empress." Gura says, because she's acutely aware that she's not sending this envoy home with a whole lot to say.

"Hmm…" Lady Ninomae hums, tilting her head to the side. "Queen Gawr, did I ever give a proper introduction?"

An odd question to be asking at this point, but Gura obliges her. "You introduced yourself, yes."

"Did I give a formal introduction?"

"Does 'I am Lady Ninomae' not count?"

"I suppose it does, but it leaves out some information." Lady Ninomae says. She stands up straight, presses her gloved hand to her collarbone, and her ungloved hand across her body on her hip in a modest pose (which really doesn't go with her outfit).

And then, without any sort of warning, a dozen, waist-thick, purple tentacles appear from behind her, curling into a protective semi-sphere around her.

Gura stares dumbfounded. The tako on her shoulder lets out a cheerful "Wah!"

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Gura Gawr, Queen of Atlantis." Lady Ninomae says softly, with just the barest hint of mirth in her voice. "I am Ina'nis Ninomae, Empress of the Empire of United Kingdoms, Highest Priestess of the Cult of the Ancient Ones."

Gura blinks slowly, processing that statement. She hasn't been talking to an envoy at all. No, the person she's been fumbling around in front of this entire time is the Empress herself. None of her failings will be overlooked because the Empress has already seen them in excruciating detail. "Fuck."

"I do hope we, and our respective countries, can have pleasant relations in the future." The Empress murmurs. "You have been a handsome host, Queen Gawr, and I would be more than happy to sample your hospitality again in the future; and return the favor twofold in the near future."

"Of course, Your Imperial Majesty." Gura says automatically; remembering the proper terminology.

"I was quite content with 'my lady'." The Empress chuckles. "If, of course, such informality is alright with you, my queen."

The Empress says Gura's title as if she loves the sound of it; as if it feels wonderful rolling off her tongue. Gura can't refuse. "Of course… my lady."

"Good. Expect to hear from me soon then." The Empress says with a wide smile. "I look forward to seeing all that you, and Atlantis of course, can offer."

Those turn out to be her final words that day. With a hypnotic twisting of her tentacles, they wrap around her like some sort of clam, obscuring her from view, and then suck into a tiny ball before vanishing into a tiny singularity in space that promptly winks out of existence.

…

"I need a drink." Gura mumbles.

"Wah."

Chapter Text

She needs a plan.

Her message is already written. It has been for a few days. She's just trying to think of something to do to prevent the disaster from last time. She can't afford to fumble around without direction while the Empress controls the pace of the meeting. She's a ruler, it's simply not safe to give up control like that.

(That and she doesn't want to risk any of the servants, or gods forbid the council, seeing her and assuming she's not competent. The council will shut this down as soon as they see the chance.)

A small demonstration from the guards, a proper tour of the ballrooms and the statue garden (which she has educated herself on now) as well as the nearby Royal Coral Gardens sounds like a good start to her.

The main debate she's having is if she should be organizing more entertainment. Would the Empress appreciate a play? Seeing a race? Or maybe she's interested in more education? Would she enjoy a tour of some distinctly Atlantean industries? Or perhaps she'd prefer something less energetic such as light conversation in a sitting room? Music maybe? Socializing with other Atlantean nobles?

She's never had to play host to a foreign dignitary, much less a human one, much less one whose preferences she isn't aware of. This would be so much simpler if she did not have a personal rapport with the Empress already.

"A political host should not need to ask preferences. It's a failure of our diplomatic abilities if we need ask the head of state herself." Gura frowns to herself. The problem is that she doesn't have a line to a proper diplomat, she can only contact the Empress. There is no middle step. That's… sort of an issue, because asking for a diplomat at this point would be just about as rude as she could possibly get, even if she states her purpose. "Do I just have to guess?"

If there's one thing a commander hates, it's unknown variables, and unfortunately politics is full of them. At least in a battle you tend to know who is on your side, but with politics someone can be both an ally and an enemy in the same stroke. She needs to endear herself to the Empire while avoiding any tricks or tests they send her way. Politics is not about trust, it's about shrewd calculation; and Gura is no fan of that.

Still, as Queen, it's a part she's forced to play.

She opts for the less exciting angle, partially because they still need to discuss business. The Empress reacted well to conversation before, so she opts for planning to make her personal sitting room presentable for guests.

(The sitting room in question is designed for the royal family; though lacking any of her own it's more of a glorified second office or impromptu meeting room.)

As for the business in question, she makes a proper list of discussion points so she can't fumble as badly as last time. She cannot afford to get caught off guard and allow the Empress to dictate all topics. She must anticipate possible questions and requests, and prepare responses lest she seem like an irresponsible ruler.

She also ensures to prepare a much smaller meal this time. As much as she doesn't mind feeding the takos, it gives Atlantis a somewhat bad look if they are unable to portion properly.

(Unless humans have different standards? Wait, she didn't think this through.)

It's times like these she wishes she could delegate, but it's customary for the King to handle preparations for guests himself, and as reigning monarch that duty is expected of her as well.

"Waaah." The messenger tako babbles, poking at the letter she's written for the Empress sitting next to her.

"I know, I know." Gura mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I just need a decent plan. Something passable at least. I need to make sure your Empress isn't disappointed, tako."

The tako huffs. "Wah."

"Look, I know you don't- Hey! Put that down!" Gura hisses, trying to grab the letter out of the tako's mouth, but missing as it casually swims out of reach.

"Wuh."

"You can't take it yet!"

The tako casually twirls away from another grab attempt.

"I- look, I'm just trying to do right by your Empress, so-"

The tako curls in on itself; squishing down to a tiny pin point before vanishing, taking the letter along with it.

Gura stares dumbly for a few seconds, then sinks back into her chair with a groan. "Why me?"

Then, she realizes something worse.

"That was the rough draft, with all the things I crossed out."

The sound of her head hitting the table has a servant running in, concerned, and she spends the rest of the day with a light ache in her forehead.

Chapter Text

The tako reappears at the end of the day, a new letter in its mouth.

Gura glares while taking the letter from it. The tako is unphased, and continues to smile and lazily flap its nubs as if nothing is wrong.

"...next time wait you little shit."

"Wah."

Gura sighs and uses her nail to pop open the strange seal on the front of the envelope.

To my Queen.

The Empress is going to be dramatic even in her letters now, huh?

Do pardon the tako's excitement. They tend to solve problems in the simplest way they can think of. Please, do not hesitate to send me any questions you might have. I am more than happy to provide answers if I can.

I am more than content with any of those options, but I will admit a preference for the less intense options, unless it involves dance. Some private discussion time with the lovely Queen of Atlantis sounds like a perfect way to spend a visit, if you are so inclined. I simply must assemble more questions for such an occasion!

One thing we simply must make sure to discuss is your eventual visit to the Empire. I have a few ideas for such, but I would rather offer them to you in person so you can adequately inquire about the details.

I have quite a bit of business in the coming week, so eight days from today would likely be the best date for my visit if such a thing can be accommodated. If not, I shall make time. Please, do not let me inconvenience you, and do not worry yourself with too many accommodations or preparations if you are not inclined to. I am plenty flattered without such things.

If the visit can be accommodated to eight days from now, I will also be able to arrive promptly after sunrise for breakfast and stay until sundown. Of course, I expect you have your own duties, so feel free to modify the duration of my stay as long as is convenient.

I look forward to seeing you again my Queen. Please be well until I can see you again.

Yours,

Ina'nis Ninomae.

"Yours?" Gura mumbles, eyeing the letter. "Laying it on thick, huh?"

"Wah."

"What sort of ploy is this anyway? What's she trying to get out of it?"

"Waaah."

"Well…" Gura thinks for a moment, drumming her fingers on the table. "Two can play at that, Empress."

"Wah!" For some reason the tako seems very excited about this.

It seems a bit unrealistic to fluster the Empress, but at the very least trying to fight back will feel better than just standing there and taking it. This is an unknown battlefield, but one she will navigate with the same iron will and focus as military combat.

Admittedly, it's not going to be any fun not knowing the sort of tactics she should be employing or their potential chances of success, but some effort is better than none. Hopefully.

She grabs a new sheet of seaweed and her inscriber.

Dear Empress.

…is that too little? Too much? Should she copy and go with 'my Empress'? Maybe 'My dear Empress'? But that sounds too forward.

Gura groans. This shouldn't be difficult already. She's written only two words!

No, no, wait, she has an idea.

Dear Lady Ninomae.

Yes, she can work with that. The Empress did say 'my lady' was okay, so presumably this should be fine. Hopefully.

Gah, she's already second-guessing herself. This is fine. Just write, Gura.

Eight days from now is more than acceptable. Please, come as early as you like. Atlantis and I are always more than happy to be graced with your presence. I shall specially prepare my personal sitting room for you, so that we may have uninterrupted conversation time as per your preference. I shall additionally arrange an array of snacks for you to try; likely Atlantis does not have as much variety as the surface, but we assuredly have our own exclusive treats, and with advance warning this time I can properly have them prepared for your pleasure.

Prepare all the questions you can think of, and I shall strive to answer them as best I can. My skills as a host were not up to the Atlantean standard last visit, but I will make every effort to ensure they are up to par this time. It would be a grave insult to leave a Lady unsatisfied twice in a row after all. However, please keep in mind that I will have questions of my own! The Empire intrigues me just as Atlantis must intrigue you.

I do hope a trip to the Empire for myself can be organized in short order so I can sample the nation that managed to produce as wonderful a ruler as yourself.

Yours truly,

Gura Gawr.

Is that enough? Not enough? Too much? No. She can't doubt herself. Before she can question herself any more she rolls up the message and hands it to the tako. It disappears in less than a second, whisking her message off to the Empress.

"There, a counterattack. Now I just need to keep this up." Gura thinks.

…not that she expects that to be in any way simple.

Chapter Text

Gura told herself she was prepared.

She should have known better. No plan survives contact with the… well, not enemy, not even opposition necessarily. The other side, perhaps.

She wasn't expecting the Empress to change her outfit.

Gone is the intricate minidress, glove, and stocking. Instead, the Empress wears a sleek purple dress of which the skirt cuts diagonally across her legs starting just below the hip. Leaving one almost entirely bare while the other is mostly hidden behind the cloth. If she's not wrong, the skirt flares out at the back, though the shadow it casts seems too big even for that, almost as if it's leaking out and stifling the light around it.

The skirt's cut is mirrored on the arms, as one is bare up to the shoulder while the other goes all the way to the wrist and over her ring finger, but no others.

And then, there's the hat. A hat that easily casts her whole head in shade with its wide brim. The hat is slightly angled towards her exposed side, giving an intense… directionality to her whole outfit. The hat too seems to cast unnaturally strong shadows, as Gura can barely see the Empress' eyes underneath its brim.

Admittedly that might be in part because the Empress' eyes are never open, but that's semantics.

"Lady Ninomae." Gura says, bowing to her guest. She shouldn't stare. That will show weakness. She takes the bow as an excuse to point her gaze at the ground for a moment. "Atlantis is honored to receive you once more."

The guards tap their tridents sharply on the tile path and incline their heads in unison. Good soldiers, all of them.

"And I am honored to be here." The Empress replies smoothly. She does not bow, though she does bring her bare hand across her chest to her heart. "You flatter me with such a reception."

This is a tame reception for a visitor of her importance, and there is no way she doesn't know that. Still, Gura doesn't call her out on her lie. No need to cast her own country in a poor light when the Empress is being gracious about it.

"This is hardly all of it, my lady." Gura says, putting on an amused tone and coming out of her bow. "Are you so quick to forget the agenda?"

"Perhaps." Lady Ninomae sighs. She still hasn't removed her hand from her heart. "My excitement is known to get the better of me."

Excitement? Hardly. She looks perfectly composed. "I'll be happy to remind you as often as you need, my lady."

"My most sincere thanks, my Queen." The Empress hums. "By all means then, enlighten me."

"The guards have a demonstration for us."

"Ah, yes. I'm curious what such a thing will entail." The Empress nods.

"Then if you'll come with me, my lady…" Gura says, extending a hand.

The Empress takes it delicately, and allows herself to be guided down the walkway through the gates to the steps of the palace where they turn around.

The guard captain makes a clicking noise with his tongue, and the guards quickly swim into position, forming two opposing rows.

The art of battle is usually less literal, but choreographed combat sequences for entertainment are a time-honored Atlantean tradition. Gura would participate herself if she weren't busy. It's been too long since she had a use for her trident that wasn't ceremonial.

Much to Gura's relief, the guards do not disappoint. It may have been a while since they've had to perform, but they are no less competent for it. The performance starts off horizontal, mostly sticking to ground level with complex exchanges of spearwork that grow in speed as the performance goes on.

And then they take to the water, incorporating the verticality into the show. The performance quickly evolves into a whirlpool of motion as both sides criss-cross through the water; tridents knifing through it with ease while each soldier is locked in an individual duel with another.

(Gura could not be more proud. She personally commanded some of these guards during her time in the military. They have yet to lose their touch.)

Whether the Empress is impressed or merely baffled, Gura isn't sure. It doesn't help that her expression is quite hard to read through the shadow of her hat, but her posture at least implies engagement.

Gura hopes human body language is similar to Atlantean body language and she hasn't been grossly misinterpreting everything, but even she can admit that's slightly irrational.

The performance ends in classic fashion: with a triumphant thrust of the guard captain's trident towards the surface while all the other guards stab into the ground in a definitive finale.

Gura nods her approval, and is inwardly relieved when the Empress claps politely. Just like her voice, the sound carries unnaturally crisply through the water.

"Impressive." The Empress says. "And far more entertaining than our own military shows. Humans tend to opt for marching and parades rather than combat dances, which is quite the shame."

Marching? Marching doesn't have much value down here, but then again, gravity is rather easy to subvert down here as well.

"Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty." The guard captain says, inclining his head to the Empress. He then glances to Gura. "Will you be needing an escort to the gardens, Majesty?"

As much as Gura might not want one… "Yes, a small guard, thank you Captain."

"Of course, your Majesty." The captain seems to have planned for this, because it only takes a quick wave of his hand for four soldiers to step forward. "Shall I alert the cooks for lunch when you return…?"

"Please." Gura says. She's expecting to take a while at the coral gardens. It may be just after breakfast now, but she will not be surprised if it ends up being past lunch by the time they're done. The coral gardens are not small, or particularly lacking for things to see. "Now, if you'd allow me to guide you, my lady…"

The Empress, of course, doesn't resist. She falls into step next to Gure with perfect ease, walking so close Gura is worried about them tripping over each other, but somehow the Empress syncs her steps perfectly with Gura's despite the disparity in their stride lengths.

(It helps that the Empress has rather long, slim, pale legs…)

It's a struggle to keep her eyes pointed forward as they slowly walk along the stone-marked paths of the city. There's little real need for roads as all Atlanteans can swim, but the sand paths remain hard-packed and maintained nonetheless for the use of the elderly and young children who might have difficulty swimming.

The guards opt to swim slightly behind them in a semicircle, staying just out of sight unless Gura explicitly looks over her shoulder to check on them. They're plenty used to this sort of operation, and Gura is thankful for it. It helps their presence not feel so overbearing on this… outing.

Escorting the Empress by hand is still a slightly nerve-wracking affair, as Gura is constantly expecting one of the Empress' delicate strokes and doesn't want to be caught off-guard, but the Empress does nothing of the sort. She's perfectly well-behaved.

While the Gardens are only a two minute swim away, it takes five times that to walk. There is nothing stopping them from swimming per say, unless the Empress does not know how, but Gura has no intent to force her to. She won't take the risk of making the Empress look like a fool with awkward swimming. She is more than content to cater to the Empress' human limitations.

The coral gardens are easily visible from a distance. It's hard not to notice the carefully-curated hills of coral, especially with the light of day shining down from the surface. The garden is located in the middle of the city, which keeps away most of the dangerous pests like sharks and eels that would otherwise try to find their way in. Keeping the less dangerous fauna in is not so much a concern, as they naturally stick around due to the safety of the gardens.

While it is technically possible for anyone to just wander into the gardens from any direction (such is the curse of everyone being able to swim), in practice that seldom happens. The caretakers are quite sharp-eyed.

They are greeted at the entrance by an older atlantean at the front gate. They are expected, of course. The old woman does all the usual bowing and scraping one would expect of someone addressing royalty, explaining that she will be their guide today, before ushering them into the gardens.

The Royal Coral Gardens have a unique layout, with different colored coral meticulously grown in different sections and all convening at the middle of the garden in a beautiful mix of colors, but the colored sections don't exist purely as feeders. They are their own works of art as well.

"I'm sure your Majesty is aware, but I'll explain for the benefit of her Imperial Highness." The caretaker says. "Coral mainly comes in four main colors in the wild, those being purple, blue, green, and red, but nearly any color can be found with enough dedication or, failing that, selective breeding. For this reason however, the purple, blue, green, and red sections are by far the largest of the gardens. Red is closest to the entrance for the visual contrast to our usual surroundings. It tends to be the most immediately striking."

While Gura would love to narrate the entire tour, it's nothing she hasn't heard before. Coral cultivation is no simple skill, but it is one atlanteans have always prided themselves on. The natural art of the ocean is always something they've seeked to cultivate.

The caretaker seems to understand this as well, as she directs most of her words at the Empress rather than her. The Empress pays close attention, naturally, but not once releases Gura's hand.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Empress takes a special interest in any octopi they stumble across. Regardless of the kind, they all have an odd reaction to her; lurching away for a moment but never outright fleeing. The Empress does not antagonize them; merely watching until they're out of sight.

Gura imagines they must look like her parents. She can imagine, in her mind's eye, her parents walking down one of the many paths of the garden, arm-in-arm, with her mother laughing all too loudly at anything her father says and probably annoying the caretaker with how little attention they're paying.

(Well, maybe they're slightly better than her parents in that way.)

That sets the tone for most of the tour. The caretaker leads, followed at a languid pace by the Empress and Gura. However, while it might seem a simple, serene tour, Gura quickly discovers she needs to be on guard. The Empress is always on her game.

She doesn't know what exactly the caretaker said to prompt it, but Gura does know that she has a delicate hand curling up her arm a moment later, pulling her down slightly to look at a certain fish nestled deep in one of the reefs.

"Beautiful, is it not?" The Empress says. It's probably Gura's imagination that it comes out as a purr, and the tingling in her ear is almost certainly her imagination. "There are some unique fish around the British Isles, but hardly so many in such a well-cultivated display."

"The Royal Coral Gardens are certainly the pride of our Kingdom." Gura says, fully aware just how generic those words sound coming out of her mouth. She was expecting something like this; an attempt to catch her off guard in public, yet despite expecting it she still finds herself thrown off balance. At least she had enough wits about her to default to a generic response, even if that's not particularly impressive. "It took several centuries to build these up to where they are now. Coral cultivation is no simple process."

"I do not doubt it." The Empress hums. She straightens, allowing Gura to do the same, and tilts her head towards the caretaker. "Could you explain it to me?"

"Of course, your Imperial Highness!"

Gura forces herself to pay closer attention to what's being said so she won't be tripped up once more. She can't be one-upped in her own kingdom.

This time, Gura takes the initiative. She picks an inauspicious moment when they turn a corner, and quickly and subtly adjusts their position so rather than merely holding a hand they are now properly arm-in-arm, albeit still with hands clasped.

She keeps her expressions neutral, straight, unemotive, as if this is a perfectly normal move to make. She doesn't say anything, but makes note of the way the Empress stiffens for a moment before relaxing against their twined arms, even reaching over her other hand to rest on Gura's and leaning slightly into Gura's side.

(Gura can feel the Empress' gaze on the side of her face, and resolutely keeps her eyes facing forward.)

She feels triumphant when the Empress doesn't counter-attack further. She won this round!

(So why does she feel like she should be watching her back? Her whole arm entwined with the Empress tingles, even through the sleeve, though she imagines that's nerves more than anything.)

It takes a few minutes before Gura realizes she's made a mistake. The Empress doesn't have to do anything, because Gura made her move for her. It's a unique sort of suffering to have the Empress leaning against her arm the whole time, and to need to focus on not using too much force in her movements so as to not potentially jostle the Empress, but that requires constantly paying mind to the Empress delicate frame, and the soft touch of her fingers, and-

No, no, she's overthinking this. She made the right move. A counterstrike. She had to show she won't be pushed around. Her own comfort has nothing to do with it.

Gura doesn't know if it's a good thing or not that the Empress doesn't pull any other tricks during the tour. For all her playfulness, she does seem to be taking genuine interest in the gardens. The animals that live within the coral seem to be her main interest, as she asks about every single one they come across and the caretaker is more than willing to explain the intricacies of their interactions with the rest of the biosphere, even the fauna that is kept out like sharks and dangerous eels. The caretaker's knowledge is not limited to merely what has been cultivated here.

She doesn't know when the tour turned into a forced march, but that is what it ends up feeling like. Gura expects a counter the entire tour that never comes, and grows increasingly concerned about what exactly her riposte will invite in the future. She can keep telling herself she made the right move, and that's probably true, but it's only so much comfort.

(It doesn't help that the Empress keeps stroking the back of her hand; the gesture might be reassuring if it wasn't clearly mocking her lack of composure.)

While the Empress may have inadvertently shown her that the coral garden was a poor choice to take a guest (well… the Empress did seem to enjoy it, so maybe it wasn't a total loss) as it is far too easy for one to take advantage of her own distraction.

She's starting to regret never getting trained in hosting. It's not a skill she ever thought she'd need, considering she always assumed she could have the head steward make most of the arrangements and would only need to bother with the usual political niceties.

Somehow, Gura is more tired than the Empress by the time they finish the tour. At least lunch is next. She can manage that.

It didn't even occur to her to ensure there was new, interesting food made for lunch this time around, but thankfully the cooks are smarter than she is. They're more than happy to demonstrate that warm food can, in fact, be served underwater. Strategic placement of heated metal under the food in the base of the serving trays keep them warm long past what one would expect, and even the chill of the ocean cannot cool it down fast enough.

Cooked food is certainly a luxury for an Atlantean. There are so many thermal vents to go around, and most are dedicated to heating rather than cooking. Gura has a hard time getting used to the taste, but that doesn't mean they're bad by any means, just… unusual.

The Empress seems to enjoy it though. While, once more, she politely samples everything, she very obviously takes a preference to the cooked fish. Gura recalls that most humans eat their food cooked if possible, so that shouldn't be much of a surprise.

Once again The Empress doesn't eat horribly much, but this time the cooks accounted for that. There's just enough for Gura to consume the rest of the food (as politely as possible. She wonders if eating so little is some sort of manipulation tactic to try and force her to either make a fool of herself or, if she opts to mirror the empress, take advantage of her hunger to make her distracted…).

She hates politics. She can't even enjoy a meal without second-guessing herself.

Gura looks up from her food to see the Empress watching(?) her across the table; as much as she can with her eyes closed. Or maybe her eyes are open? It's hard to tell with that hat.

The Empress tilts her head and delicately forks another piece of fish into her mouth. It's quite odd to see smooth teeth, but they seem to work well enough.

Little conversation happens during lunch. Gura has a few topics she could breach, but is worried about wasting her material now when she'll surely need it later. It's a small sacrifice, and she hopes the empress won't mind terribly much.

(How is she going to survive multiple hours alone with this lady? She can barely handle silence, much less conversation.)

The end of lunch is both a relief and a worry at the same time. It's a temporary escape from the awkwardness, but also one step closer to the hours when she'll need to somehow 'entertain' the Empress in her private sitting room with little more than conversation.

She's starting to regret setting that course of action in stone.

Still, she has time. A tour of the ballrooms, then the statue gardens. Hopefully more than enough time to calm her nerves and steel herself.

This time, the servants whisk away what is left of the food. There is very little left over; a testament to the cooks' abilities to make accurate portions now that they have information to work with.

Gura doesn't have time to appreciate her cooks' skills, she needs to attend to her guest. She makes a split-second decision to go to the statue garden first. Hopefully the ballroom tour will lead to more casual conversation, which will make a nice transition into their conversation time and avoid any awkward silences.

It also means less time she has to hold all this trivia in her head about the statue garden.

She's not even surprised at this point when the Empress delicately snakes her arm through hers. Maybe it's a human custom she's not familiar with. That would probably explain it.

The statue garden through the lens of a tour is essentially a history lesson which, while slightly dull, is at least in Gura's comfort zone. They glide through the garden at a languid pace, stalling in front of choice statues for Gura to expound upon some deed or interesting tidbit while the Empress hums and nods and leans against Gura's arm the entire time.

(Is it a good thing or a bad thing they don't have guards with them in the garden? Their passive observation was both a blessing and a curse, because now she cannot rely on outside forces to curtail any tricks the Empress might try to play.)

"As a general rule, the further away we get the more recent the statues." Gura says. "Not always true since the statues are actually not fully built into the base; they actually have a tube at the bottom that can slot into place, allowing them to be relocated, and the garden is nominally sorted by profession, but in practice it's that and age."

"It always ends up being such." The Empress nods. "Time is simply an easy method of categorization."

"Of course, but I wish the designers would stop pretending they're not doing that." Gura snorts, then promptly realizes snorting probably doesn't make her look good, and coughs instead. "The way they talk about it you'd think they'd revolutionized statue garden design."

"Is that an expansive field here?"

"Among nobles? Yes." Gura sighs. "For better and for worse."

"For worse? Are there some truly atrocious statue gardens?"

Gura wishes, so much, that she could expound upon some of the awful gardens she's seen, but she's supposed to be impressing the Empress, not highlighting Atlantis' faults.

"I could not say, my Lady." Gura says noncommittally.

"Hmm…" The Empress sounds amused and like she obviously doesn't believe Gura, but she doesn't press further. "Of course, my Queen."

That has to be mockery at this point, doesn't it? An Empress theoretically outranks a queen.

"The Empire has its own set of… hobbies, for the former nobility. Strange sports I don't pretend to understand, and all sorts of hideously expensive activities." The Empress sighs. "Some are simply costly, but otherwise benign in themselves. Some are… less so. Even the benign hobbies, however, are oft used to further the former nobles' sense of elitism. I do hope Atlantis is more fortunate."

If only that were true. She's sorely tempted to explain… but it's probably a trap, right? Though arguably telling the queen of another country some faults of your own would also be a poor decision, so maybe the Empress is hoping for reciprocity here?

Well, it would be rude to refuse, wouldn't it? Surely this is fine. "The layout of a garden can say quite a bit about the owner and organizer; much more so if they give you a personal tour. I would rather not go into too much detail, lest I spoil the mood of the tour… but some of the nobles think it prudent to put a statue of a would-be revolutionary, famed for his violent religious persecutions, front and center in their displays as he displayed 'admirable leadership qualities' in 'securing his position for the safety of his followers'."

The Empress is silent for a moment, and Gura thinks she's made a mistake. Maybe she said too much? Her reply was a step up from what the Empress had revealed after all. A step too far, perhaps.

"I suppose Atlantis is not so different." The Empress murmurs. "And unfortunately, we are responsible for these distasteful elements of our realms, past or present."

That, at least, Gura can agree on with no conditions. "Quite."

With that mild assurance in mind, Gura feels less on edge about highlighting the less-than-savory elements of some of the people immortalized in the statues. Rulers past, nobles, revolutionaries, artists, and so on all get their time, and Gura attempts not to spare the details. It makes for a slightly less elegant tour than she'd planned on account of not having prepared for noting the negatives, but significantly more informative at the very least.

"And then there's this guy." Gura says, not bothering to hide her disdain. "...really, if he weren't part of the royal line, I think my parents- or I- would have gotten rid of this one a long time ago. I could fill several lectures with all his bad decisions, or even just the questionable ones."

"That bad, hmm?"

"He literally bankrupted the royal family and sold the crown to make ends meet." Gura says dryly. "Half the reason the nobles have so much power is because this asshole let so much slip, and five centuries later we're still recovering from it, and I don't just mean how expensive it was to buy the crown back."

"That is unfortunate." The Empress agrees. "The Empire too suffers from the choices of its old rulers; one which I expect to have repercussions for many, many centuries to come."

"That bad?"

"I believe taking over a fifth of the planet in the name of bringing benefit only to your small corner is hardly an impact-neutral venture."

"Well when you put it that way…"

"Human history is written largely in blood, my Queen."

"Don't want the council hearing that. They'll just use it to justify their specism."

Somehow, that conversation doesn't put too much of a damper on the mood.

They sweep through the rest of the statue garden at a languid pace, and Gura makes sure to end on a somewhat positive note there with the statue of her father before moving on to the next part.

One might not think a ballroom tour would take all that long, but one doesn't tend to have upwards of ten different dedicated areas for dancing around their estate. The palace, on the other hand, does. There is only one central ballroom, but there are four secondary rooms (in case multiple parties are being held at once, which has indeed happened during art eras, but nowadays they are mostly rented or loaned out) and a variety of simple cleared areas that have served as dance floors before, as well as an unused ballroom that is being preserved for historic purposes.

Gura has to personally investigate the history and design of these rooms, as oddly enough there is no cohesive history written about them as a whole. Individually they have records, but no one has taken the time to tie them all together. Gura never figured she would be the one to do it, but the Empress has incentivised several strange behaviors by this point. She hadn't had any use for writing for months before she started sending letters to the Empress.

And really, as much as she's somewhat proud of her research, simply as proof that she was capable of doing such a thing, but this in fact all setup. Showing the Empress the windows, the arches, the intricate stonework, the carefully carved floor tiles… it's all preparation, priming, for her counterstrike.

Yes, she has a counterstrike planned now (perhaps 'improvised' would be more accurate). That's why she saves the main ballroom, in all its grandeur, for last.

"This place… from what I've read, it gets redesigned every few centuries." Gura chuckles. "I won't be one of them; I like what Grandfather did well enough, what with the way all the architecture points towards the middle of the room. It creates quite the effect for dancers in the center point."

"Ballroom architecture is an art indeed." The Empress hums. "Though it would seem the room points towards a spot in the air, rather than the floor."

"Not quite." Gura says, smirking. She turns to face the Empress, taking advantage of their entwined arms to keep her close and pull her against her chest and lace their other fingers together while assuming a classic waltz stance. Gura intentionally adds a bit of a rumble to her voice, determined to get a response. "Did you forget, my lady, that we are underwater?"

The Empress is oddly silent; her closed eyes fixed towards Gura's own face. Gura strives to keep her smile confident and not giddy. This only works if she keeps her composure. Calm, professional, smooth…

"If you wish, my lady, I can demonstrate?" She asks with the barest hint of a tease in her voice. "It is a time-honored Atlantean dance; any noble knows it by heart. You only need give yourself up to me for a minute or two."

"I am afraid I do not know the steps." The Empress replies, her voice even quieter than usual. Gura's eyes eagerly drink up the way the Empress tilts her head up, giving Gura a wonderful view of the smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, even with the wide brim of her hat casting its shadow. The Empress clearly knows she's looking, and Gura makes a point of showing her teeth when she smiles next.

(She's not sure if she imagines the tremble that goes through the Empress' arm, but she hopes it isn't her imagination.)

"You don't need to step, only swim." Gura whispers. "Hold on, and I will guide you through it."

"Please."

After making sure the Empress is holding firm, Gura pushes off the floor to sweep them up into the water. She's rewarded with a sharp inhale from the Empress and her slight frame pressing against her, needing an anchor as the Empress is wholly unused to dancing, or moving at all, in three dimensions.

"There's a bit of an art to kicking just enough to keep yourself up without disrupting your partner." Gura explains, starting with a gentle, wide spin. "You and your partner need to time your kicks, though there are some dances where one partner does most of the work to keep you up."

"I see…"

"Atlantean dances tend to involve many twists and turns. If you get nauseous easily, this would be the time to mention it." Gura hums, opting to lean forward and loom over the Empress a bit. She's trying to make an impression here, so taking advantage of gravity and perspective is fair play, right? If her legs just happen to brush past the Empress' while keeping them aloft, that's just part of the dance, naturally.

"Not at all. Please, show me everything you possibly can."

Gura knows her smile gets sharp upon hearing those words, but she can't help herself. "As you wish."

A quick twist and a kick, slipping one hand out of her grasp to hold her hip, Gura starts a familiar routine. It's a dance taught specifically for its speed and the precise physical control needed by the lead as an introduction to the more technical dances that nobility sometimes insists on.

There are many tight turns required for this dance, necessitating her to exert some force with the hand on the Empress' hip to swing her around effectively. It helps that the Empress is pliable to her touch and allows herself to be moved without resistance. If anything, she leans into the movements, presses herself to Gura to keep the turns tight and quick.

In some ways, Gura keeps the dance simple. This dance requires more skill on the lead's part, but still some on the follower's, so Gura cuts away parts of the dance that need the follower to execute something technical… and perhaps embellishes the dance with a few more spins and flips than is strictly necessary.

(She keeps the flips slow. It's one thing to twist and turn, and another to end up upside-down; not to mention she doesn't want the Empress reacting badly to the feeling of someone being on top of her, if only for a few moments.)

Without music to accompany, it's up to Gura to decide when to stop, so she doesn't keep going for all too long. The dance might lose its impact if it's drawn out too long. She makes sure to end on a metaphorical high note though, and gracefully comes to a stop while holding the Empress in a dip that allows the lighting to get a good angle and finally punch through the artificial darkness hiding her face.

(The small bit of red dusting the Empress' cheeks catches Gura off guard. Maybe this was more effective than she expected?)

It's with some reluctance she raises the Empress out of the dip and releases her hold on her hip, and the unnatural shadow of the hat falls back over her face. Best not to push her luck.

"I assure you it's far more impressive with music." Gura says. On impulse, she brings the Empress's bare hand up to her face and kisses the knuckles. Just proper decorum for a dance, of course. "Was it to your satisfaction, my lady?"

"Quite. Very." The Empress says quietly. "I… will have to treat you to the same upon your visit to the Empire."

Gura grins, again making sure to flash her teeth. "That sounds wonderful my lady. I'll devour each and every moment of it."

Apparently that was a good choice of words because the Empress goes quiet again, only nodding as a response.

"Now, if you'll come with me, I do believe I promised some private time for conversation." Gura says, trying to keep up her facade of confidence while guiding the Empress out of the ballroom.

Gura needs to spare a moment to alert a servant to tell the chefs to prepare the snacks before leading the Empress to the east wing of the palace, past some of the lesser ballrooms she'd showed her before, to the royal wing.

Strictly speaking it's tradition for the reigning couple to occupy the main suite, but as she has not completed her co-rulership period she is not allowed to occupy it, which is just as well to her.

She loves her parents, but she doesn't know how she'd feel about sharing a suite with ghosts.

Gura's sitting room is nothing special to her eyes. It suffers from the same omnipresent blue as the rest of the palace, and is relatively light on personal touches considering she doesn't spend too much time here (and cleaned up the day before). The tables are simple and made of smooth stone, and the chairs and couches have treated seaweed cushions (most 'fabric' in Atlantis is treated seaweed, as there really aren't any other options). There's a projection orb sitting on a side table which is a standard feature of many noble houses (little more than a magic toy) and a pair statue of her parents in their much younger years (a memento). The last thing of note is, of course, the golden bracelet the Empress gifted her; displayed prominently to show it has not been forgotten.

The empress opts to sit on one of the couches, so Gura sits across. She's still feeling a bit jumpy from her counterstrike in the ballroom, but she has to hold it in. She just has to hold out until the visit is over to count this as a success. She has topics planned, so this should be simple.

"It occurs to me that I am not as familiar with the Atlantean government as I should be, given how much we have stayed in contact." The Empress says before Gura can even broach one of her planned topics. "And I thought it prudent to be brought abreast of the system, if you would not mind."

Fuck. Gura clears her throat. Of course she knows the system well, that's not an issue. The problem will come if the Empress starts asking more than just surface-level questions, or about Gura's reign specifically.

Still, even worse would be not answering the questions. A queen who appears to not know the laws of her own kingdom is not an image she wants to cultivate, so answer she must. Was this a calculated move on the Empress' part, or dumb luck that she struck a weakness?

"Nominally, Atlantis is an absolute Monarchy. This is blatantly false to anyone who knows even the slightest about the system." Gura says plainly. It's probably the most important thing anyone can learn about the Atlantean government, as distasteful as it might be. "The nobles possess significant power, and while the monarch does nominally have the power to overturn or ignore their decisions and recommendations, there is plenty the nobles can do regionally to affect the kingdom as a whole, and the king cannot possibly expect to keep up with the machinations of a dozen people at once and overturn all they do."

"Standard fare then." The Empress nods. "A precarious balance… if it can even be called such."

"On a good day, maybe." Gura sighs. "Nominally, the nobles oversee territory 'on loan' from the crown, with the understanding that the crown can ask for its return or reshuffle it at any point. They are given some measure of political and legislative control over their territory to help individualize the aid and rules needed to manage different sub-cultures within the kingdom. When a noble is unfit for duty for whatever reason, or surrenders his duty, their position is passed onto their chosen successor by default (mostly so the crown doesn't have to pick new nobles themselves all the time) unless the crown sees fit to intercede."

"And in practice?"

"The nobles oversee small dukedoms over which they have a high level of control, including maintaining their own small military forces. The crown functions as its own dukedom consisting of the capital region, albeit with some tools to override the other dukedoms, as well as de-facto command of the military as a whole. This gives the crown a high income and population to pull from compared to other dukedoms, allowing them to retain their position without too much effort necessary, but not possessing so much power that the crown can meddle in the affairs of the other dukedoms without consequence."

"Expected." The Empress muses. "If unfortunate. Many systems seem to degrade in such a fashion over time."

Gura doesn't know if that's true, but she doesn't want to argue otherwise without a proper counterargument, so instead she just nods sagely like she totally holds the same view. It sounds reasonable though. Human politics, at the very least, are somewhat infamous for their instability and while Atlantis isn't quite as bad it's certainly no shining example.

She can imagine the council would argue otherwise, but it's really not surprising they'd argue with a system they can abuse for their advantage. Their politics always seem to center around what benefits them, personally, the most.

This particular topic has drastically changed the mood, and Gura isn't sure how to feel about that. Surely this is a good thing, to step away from where the Empress has proven competent, even if it happens to be directly after a successful counterattack? Though the topic itself proved to be detrimental she supposes. She almost assuredly gave up too much information thanks to her lack of preparation.

(Why should she even care about the 'mood'? The Empress willingly broached this subject. Why does she feel disappointed?)

The logical next step would be to ask about the Empire's structure in turn, but Gura finds she doesn't want to. She'd hardly be impressing the Empress by turning their conversation time into business discussion.

"I've been meaning to ask about human… dress." Gura says. This was one of the odder subjects she'd considered, but maybe that's exactly what she needs to salvage this. "Atlantean fashion has been… not exactly static, but we're starved for variety in materials, and coloration is not simple to make underwater. Humans seem to manage much more varied dress."

"Ah, yes!" The Empress perks up instantly. "I will admit I am rather new to the field myself; I rely mostly on the advice of some in-the-know cul… well, priests I suppose would be the proper term. They would know far more than me. Their talk of materials and sewing techniques goes over my head a bit, but as somewhat of an artist myself I feel like I am getting a handle on the broad strokes, if not the production side of things."

Gura nods, keeping silent. If the Empress wants to talk, she'll let her talk.

"There are many styles to sample from, but my priests have suggested that more 'conventional' styles ill suit me, both due to my position and figure, as well as the purple hair which is of course not natural among humans." The Empress continues. "They pull somewhat from the church's own style, of course, but take influences from the gothic and certain elements of Empire high-society, opting for the more modern and radical styles. This sort of asymmetric design, especially as revealing as this, is not at all the standard among. Most Empire ladies tend to be much more covered up."

Gura raises an eyebrow, remembering how the outfit she saw last time was even more revealing than what the Empress is wearing now. She opts not to comment. Maybe the Empress simply enjoys that style of dress and is attempting to offer some plausible excuse for it.

"...I do not include myself among that number, no need to look so suspicious." The Empress says with a hint of mirth. "Even before my forays into fashion, the outfit you saw last time has been my standard, with minor variations, for a long time."

"I said nothing."

"Ah, but it is called body language for a reason, my Queen." The Empress smiles. The expression looks somewhat sinister under the magic darkness of her hat. "And I am quite the attentive listener. You are rather silent most of the time, my Queen, but I do so treasure those times you express yourself."

…maybe Gura hasn't been as successful today as she hoped.

"No need to be so pensive, my Queen. It is a compliment." The amusement in the Empress' tone is less than reassuring. Has the Empress been in control this whole time? "Your usual composure is quite admirable for a politician. I am not mocking you."

She's being placated. A manipulation tactic, or genuine? It's hard to tell.

"Though I suppose a measure of trust, in our position, is hard to come by." The Empress murmurs. "I cannot fault you there."

Is this a guilt tactic? Honesty? Gura hates trying to figure this out.

"I have been told before that my own expressions can be difficult to read. I am subdued, according to the priests."

"Subdued isn't the term I would use." Gura admits. "Serene, maybe?"

"You flatter me."

"Oh no. If I wanted to flatter you, I'd comment on your hair, or your skin, or your sense of style." Gura shrugs. "How it's all so flawless is beyond me. Must be some human thing."

"...not flattery, of course." The Empress says after a pause. Again, Gura can hear the hint of a laugh in her tone.

Poseidon help her, how is she going to survive multiple hours of this? Gura is jumpy and has been resisting the urge to fidget for the entire conversation, but she has several more hours of this planned.

"Is it too late to pretend I had something else planned?" Gura asks herself helplessly. "Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"Shall I change the subject? You look a bit lost, my Queen."

Her composure is slipping. This is a disaster. "Lost? Of course not. I am perfectly content with this line of conversation, my lady."

She wishes she could read the Empress' expression to know if she's seen through Gura's flimsy lie, but she can't, so Gura continues to act on the assumption that the Empress is one step ahead.

"Be that as it may… hmm…" The Empress clicks her tongue and brings a hand up to the brim of her hat. "Perhaps I am seeing this wrong?"

"What wrong, my lady?" Gura asks, leaning forward with a slight frown.

"I think I need to take a proper look."

Gura is sure she had a response on the tip of her tongue a moment ago, or she was thinking of one, or… something. There was something a moment ago she should have been doing, but that was before the lights.

Is it right to call them lights? A small array of whitish dots, scattered across a multicolored field of dust, cast entirely in shadow that makes Gura strain to see properly. The array is moving as well, slowly swirling around a central point, though each dot moves at a different speed, and the dust fields move too, and-

A knock at the door jars her more badly than it has any right to. Her hand instinctively twitches halfway through the summoning movement for her trident before she remember she- they- snacks. Right, snacks. "Come in."

The Empress is sitting serenely, as if nothing unusual at all happened. The starfield is gone, but Gura can't get it out of her mind. Did she imagine it? Maybe she was hallucinating that vision beneath the brim of the Empress' hat? Is this a trick? Part of the Empress' plan? Or did she really imagine it?

It's agony to sit through the presentation of the snacks while the servant explains each one, needing to pretend that everything is fine while the Empress nods and hums while listening to the servant.

Or maybe she should say something? Call for the guards? Try to signal the servant for help? Is she under threat? Gura doesn't know. She doesn't know. That's a terrifying thing to admit during foreign negotiations.

She can't even say it's against her better judgment that she stays silent, because she doesn't know what her better judgment is right now. She stays silent until the servant is done and leaves while the Empress casually samples a few pieces of fish, using her long, slim fingers to pluck them from the platter in front of her.

"Is everything alright, my Queen?" The Empress asks teasingly. "You appear dazed."

Maybe she did imagine it, or maybe this is a trick? Should she say something? Maybe silence is the answer? "I am quite fine."

"Indeed you are, but I was asking about your mental state." The Empress says with the barest hint of purr in her voice.

That's very obviously flirting. What is going on here? Did Gura hit her head at some point? She feels like she's entirely lost track of the conversation. "...yes."

"Your mental state is yes?"

"I am fine."

"Hmmm…" The Empress muses. "Perhaps I should have held back a bit more?"

Gura's shoulders tense, and she does her very best to hide it and appear normal (whatever 'normal' can be said to be in this situation). "Held back what?"

"Oh dear, you're more out of it than expected." The Empress giggles. With one hand she raises the lip of her hat, freeing face from the supernatural darkness, and cracks open an eye just a sliver.

The starscape is there, hidden beneath her eyelashes, swirling slowly, trying to draw her in even with just this tiny sighting.

"What…?" Gura can't help but stare. Her composure is totally shot. The Empress has stars for eyes? How? Why? What could this possibly mean? A curse? A warning? A blessing? First her strange floating book (which, Gura abruptly realizes, did not accompany her this time) and now this? Are all humans this beau- fantastical?

(Beautiful. That's what she was going to say. She's getting in far over her head. She was not prepared to handle foreign contact at all. She's a failure of a queen.)

"I have to admit, I never get tired of how people react to my eyes." The Empress says with a smile. "It is quite flattering to know I can stun others with a look."

She's being toyed with. That's what's going on.

"I mean not to scare; I do not show my eyes to most people." The Empress says soothingly, as if Gura is some skittish child. "I simply wish to impress, if I am to be frank. I could not let your wonderful dance go… unrewarded,"

What. What? WHAT!? So those hypnotic eyes are just more flirtation? "You… I see."

"Perhaps I should have given some warning."

Now Gura just feels foolish. It was simple a flirtatious response, and she dramatically overreacted. "No, no. I simply… was caught off guard." As embarrassing as it is to admit that, and probably unwise, but Gura is exhausted from keeping up her act at this point.

"Hmm, and I must say it's a good look on you my Queen." The Empress teases, and closes her eye again. "But I shall refrain for the rest of today. This conversation time is meant to be relaxing after all."

Part of Gura is embarrassed that the Empress feels the need to hold back for her sake, but at the same time… "that would be appreciated. My nerves are somewhat frayed."

To Gura's relief, the Empress is entirely honest about holding back. Gura is still wary, but being able to relax even slightly around the Empress is a blessing.

It might seem to be an anticlimactic ending to a day fraught with tension, but Gura appreciates it. Just this once, politics can afford to be less than a complete headache, and perhaps even something to enjoy.

Chapter Text

The simple fact is that there is no precedent- no recent precedent at least- for the reigning ruler going on a state visit anywhere outside the kingdom. Atlantis has not been in a situation where a visit beyond the border has been necessary, or even mildly desirable, in many centuries, and Gura does not expect the council to give her permission for such a thing.

So, naturally, she doesn't go to the council. Not all of it at least.

There are a few ways to bypass the council, and nearly all of them involve either being the reigning king (constitutionally she is not king until her co-rulership period is over), but there is one specific exception.

The reigning king or the council can bypass the other party to conduct special military operations or diplomatic actions during 'emergency situations' so long as the proposed course of action gets a majority vote from Military High-Command.

Gura has refrained from using such a thing so far because, frankly, it was an absurd step to take when she could just wait to have full power (or, at least, more power), but this is not one of those cases where time is on her side.

It feels a bit absurd to invoke an Emergency Military Bypass just to visit the Empire, but her personal feelings aside, it is important for Atlantis to come out of its isolation. Isolation only benefits a utopia, and Gura is not so delusional as to think Atlantis is one of those. Besides, if the heart and soul of Atlantis is really the arts as so many like to claim, outside interaction is a necessity for new ideas. Getting access to modern technology is also a boon, of course. Life may be good for most Atlanteans, but it can always be better.

Those are the arguments she presents to Military High-Command. This is no military emergency, yes, but it is a diplomatic one. A golden opportunity is being presented to them, and the council would cause great harm to Atlantis through neglect in asking her to disassociate with the Empress and her Empire.

(It helps that she's already well-liked and trusted within the ranks of the military. She was, and technically still is, a military general, and she earned that position largely through dedication rather than nepotism. It was her own insistence that resulted in such a thing. Her father had tried to give her a command position right away.)

Still, while she might be well-liked, that doesn't mean High-Command approving her emergency bypass is a foregone conclusion. Some of the High-Command are children of the current council and share similar views, and some of them actually have their heads on straight and properly scrutinize any use of emergency powers.

"Attempting to bypass due process is a serious suggestion, your Majesty." General Gwight tells her, arms crossed, after she's sat down to hear what High-Command has decided. She wasn't allowed to be present to hear their debate, so as to not unduly influence considerations of national security. "It is a measure usually reserved for wartime."

She knows this. Gwight knows she knows this. It's not often someone talks to her like she is a child again, but perhaps out of everyone Gwight has that right. She served under him during her early years in the military, and he was instrumental in her promotions. He is not her father nor a replacement for him, but he is still her mentor.

"That said… I can attest more than anyone that the council has proven time and time again that they do not have the best interest of Atlantis in mind, and hold unreasonable biases especially when it comes to external affairs." Gwight says. "So High-Command has agreed, conditionally, to your bypass."

Gura tempers her relief. "And what are these conditions?"

"You are to have an escort." Gwight says bluntly. "Distasteful or not, you cannot teleport like the Empress can. If something is to go wrong, even your own considerable strength is insufficient for security."

Unfortunate, but Gura is not surprised. There is no way she was going to be allowed on a visit outside the kingdom without an escort.

"Secondly: this visit is not to take longer than a day at a time. If for some reason it is to extend over multiple days, you are to return back to Atlantis for rest each night."

Also expected. "I understand."

"Good." Gwight sighs. "Your escort will be composed of six soldiers, minimum, including the captain of your guard, and your trip is not to go beyond Gibraltar until a further rapport with the Empire has been established."

Also expected. "Understood."

Gwight eyes her, then sighs, his face turning to a tired smirk. "Alright, Your Majesty. You've gotten your wish. Make it count."

Gura grins. "I plan to."

Chapter Text

Gura has no desire to be deceptive; not towards the Empress at least. This decision is arguably not even that deceptive or egregious, but it makes her uncomfortable either way.

Legally speaking, every member of the military is a member of the royal guards. It's usually a formality relegated to the induction ceremony of new soldiers, and her personal guard have an additional rank on top of that… but that wording, that all soldiers are royal guards, is a quirk she can take advantage of.

She probably doesn't need to take advantage of it considering High Command isn't going to fuss about the details quite as much as the council would, but it's always nice to have some legal backing to her actions just in case the council takes issue after this is over.

This is a very long-winded way to say that General Gwight is not a member of her personal guards, but he is technically a royal guard, and so she has an excuse to ask him to come along. While the council can try to say the wording of High Commands conditions imply she was to take the royal guards, Gwight is legally a royal guard, and outranks even the captain of her guards.

Besides, if there's one person she trusts to catch what she might overlook, it's Gwight. He'll be her eyes and ears when she's too busy being distracted by the Empress.

Gwight, of course, is fully onboard with this plan. While the council might be 'too good' for the surface, Gwight is not going to pass up a chance for reconnaissance. He's a professional through and through.

For most of her guards, it's their first time being on the surface since training. It's amusing to watch them fumble for a second as they remember to use their lungs rather than their gills and adapt to being forced to walk and carry their full weight.

To be fair, she has somewhat of the same experience. Her first few steps are quite shaky while she gets her feet under her, but she's far more used to walking than most atlanteans so she regains her composure well in advance of her guard.

It is only through the power of aquakinesis that they managed to cross the 750 kilometers between Atlantis and Gibraltar in any decent time. A boat, according to the Empress, would take seven hours each way at best and that's simply not practical for what High Command has dictated for her terms. It still takes two hours, and is probably a gross misuse of the mage's academy's abilities, but there's simply no other way she's getting to Gibraltar in a reasonable amount of time in a way High Command will tolerate (because they will certainly not allow her to be teleported by the Empress).

The docks of Gibraltar are not a small affair as there are all sorts of ships docked, leaving, and entering. She wasn't quite sure where she should be going, as the Empress' only instructions were 'enter through the docks', but thankfully the Empress thought of that… or simply has very good eyesight, because the Empress is there to greet them within a minute of them pulling themselves up to the docks.

(That's probably a good thing too, because the dockworkers look rather startled.)

For once, the Empress has an entourage. A dozen figures clad in deep purple robes stand in two lines behind her. The hoods of the robes are large enough that the faces underneath are mostly obscured, and what little is visible is obscured by a metal mask (varying from bronze to silver to gold depending on the individual) styled as an octopus.

The other humans don't have those masks. Maybe it's a military tradition? Seems impractical, but that's the nature of some traditions.

"Your Highness." The Empress greets with a polite bow of her head. "You honor us with your presence."

Gura wants to roll her eyes. Now that there's an audience the Empress goes formal, hmm? "And you, us, Your Majesty."

"I do hope you have not eaten too much today." The Empress says, instead of continuing formalities right away. "For the first thing on our agenda is a time-honored staple of breakfast."

The place they get taken to is a small restaurant off the side of a main road. It's no grand affair, which is just as well for Gura because it means fewer eyes on them.

Though it's probably a bit odd to people walking by to see a hooded figure and an Atlantean guard standing outside a random restaurant, and stranger still for the other customers to have guards stationed all around the room as they eat.

Even just the barest sampling of breakfast introduces Gura to at least three new types of food, though they rest strangely on her tongue. They're not bad by any stretch of the imagination, but it's hard for her to say she'd want them over what her own kitchen prepares.

Still, this meal could have been horrible, but it ended up being enjoyable. Strange, but enjoyable enough.

(She notices an octopus symbol detailing the ledge of the wooden counter where meals are placed for pickup, as well as being subtle decoration in all corners of the room where the ends of the baseboards meet, with the tentacles themselves melding into the baseboards' design.)

The proprietor of the establishment never seems to open their eyes, much like the Empress, and Gura has to wonder if galaxy-eyes are more common than she'd assumed, and how exactly they're obtained.

"I will admit, organizing some sort of schedule today was not the simplest thing." The Empress murmurs as she delicately crosses her utensils on her plate. Gura mimics the action, having finished eating well in advance of her. "I am far more familiar with the facilities of the palace you see."

"Understandable."

She can see Gwight raising an eyebrow at their interaction. He's stationed where she can see him behind the Empress. A royal so casually admitting their own faults must seem insane to him. At least, she assumes so. Perhaps his general political experience differs from her.

"That said… there are certain things that could be considered standard in the Empire- albeit less so in distant holdings like Gibraltar." The Empress hums. "The Empire- at least, the British Empire before it became the Empire of United Kingdoms- was very proud to take its culture wherever it went, for better or for worse."

"I see."

"...usually for the worse, if I am being frank." The Empress sighs. With a flick of her hand some coins and parchment(?) appears on the table. Currency, maybe? But what is the parchment for? "But still, there are some benefits, and I plan on demonstrating just that."

There was no standing plan for her visit to Gibraltar like there was for when the Empress was due to visit Atlantis… or at least, Gura was not informed of any such plan.

Stepping out into the roadways once more, Gura finally notices just how many eyes are on them. Both she and the Empress are subjects of fascination for the locals, who must not be accustomed to seeing their Empress all that much. The hooded guards are also given a wide berth, and so they end up with an entire half of the path all to themselves.

"As you might expect from a colony, the locals are less used to a royal presence." The Empress explains as they walk. "The fact that the Empire has not been a kind overlord in the recent past is still very much on many of their minds. It is something I intend to rectify, but as with many things, it will take time and knowledge that I do not yet have."

Gura can sympathize with that. She remembers her parents telling her before that one of the worst parts of being a ruler is knowing that you can solve a great number of problems, but not all at once, and so some group will always end up neglected. Being a queen is an exercise in constant, painful, failure; if you're doing it right that is.

A bit dramatic, but at least in part Gura has found it to be true.

Their destination is a largely empty building filled with dozens, maybe hundreds, of chairs arrayed in a semi-circle around a stage. Gura recognizes a theater when she sees one.

She can get behind this… even if, she realizes now, she won't be able to understand anything being said. The Empress might know how to speak Atlantean, but she doesn't know how to speak English.

Thankfully theater is more than just speech or this would be an entirely pointless event to attend.

Very quickly Gura realizes she underestimated the Empress again.

Yes, this is a play. A play without speech; or at least, without recognizable speech. All vocalizations seem intentionally gibberish, and much more priority is given to action and tone and music than what is(n't) being said. The Empress did not choose what they would be viewing without due consideration.

The exact plot of the play is… confusing? Gura figures she must be missing some cultural context, because she doesn't quite understand the significance of the constant whispering that occupies the start of the play. It doesn't seem to be coming from any specific character. It's background noise, even in scenes that are very clearly private. Beyond that the story focuses on a young girl- a priestess of some sort if Gura is interpreting things right- who apparently spends most of her time tending to a shrine that (judging by the choice of props) is near a mountain but inside a forest, and it's rare that any other character enters the scene.

The grove is perpetually cast with shadows on the stage. The edges of the stage are always lighter than the center, and the priestess rarely leaves the center of the stage. Her face is constantly cast in shadow thanks to lighting or a long bowlcut, with the eyes never visible.

The whispers grow more intense as the play continues, and Gura also notices that the priestess never speaks. She gestures, nods and communicates through motion, but she has no babble like the other characters, not even with (what Gura assumes are) her parents.

And then… it happens. What 'it' is Gura doesn't quite understand. The lighting glows purple, the other characters are all kneeling, and only the priestess moves. She moves away from her shrine, moving through rocky terrain, to some sort of cave. The whispers are intense, growing ever more so as the girl approaches until-

The lights in the theater are snuffed out (it only occurs to Gura then to ask how the lighting is being done with such precision) and the whispers abruptly stop. Only the slight movement and whispers of the crowd are audible.

Gura can't help but notice that while she can hear her own movements, the chair next to her, the Empress, is entirely silent.

She can imagine her guards are getting antsy about this. Killing a foreign queen in the darkness when no one can see during a diplomatic visit? It's just far too obvious… which is exactly why Gura is sure it's not going to happen.

The lights slowly rise once more to reveal the scene has been changed to that of a town; something that was only used at the beginning of the show until now. The other characters are still kneeling, but that all changes when the priestess, now dressed in a very familiar outfit, enters the scene and all heads turn to her and go from kneeling to a full-on bow… that the priestess seems rather bashful of and tries to get people to stand, which they do not.

Gura also notices that the priestess now carries a familiar book with her, but that's quickly the least of her worries after the priestess finally 'speaks' (in the same gibberish as the rest of the play) and the whispers from before layer over her voice, giving it an eerie echo.

(A quick look beside her confirms that the Empress is indeed still there. The priestess on stage is still the actor. The Empress tilts her head in Gura's direction, clearly knowing that she's sneaking a glance, and smiles at her.)

Shrewd. Very shrewd. This was not merely a play. This is clearly a way to show her the narrative the Empress wants her to see before anyone else can influence her. Gura can't fault her for that. PR is a nightmare, and political relationships are doubly so.

She knows Gwight will have some thoughts to share about this when they get back to Atlantis. She's curious what he'll have to say because while politics self-admittedly isn't Gwight's strongest suit, he's not incompetent at it. You don't get on the council without some aptitude for it (even if that aptitude is mostly avoiding bullshit rather than using it yourself).

Gura applauds politely along with the rest of the crowd. It's not much of a crowd admittedly, the theater is only about a quarter full, but that might have something to do with the guards all around the room.

The Empress patiently waits for most of the theater to empty out before standing and extending a hand to Gura. She takes it of course, but is surprised when instead of leading her out the Empress leads her toward one of the doors to the back of the theater, with Gura's guards hastily moving to join them.

"The group was very eager to act for foreign royalty." The Empress says serenely, and pushes into the back room. "They were one of very few willing to come all the way out here to perform on such short notice."

Ah, so this isn't a local group. Interesting.

The group turns out to be rather small; barely more than a dozen people. They all bow and scrape with obvious eagerness; first to the Empress, then to Gura, babbling away at her in English after Ina gestures for them to stand and Gura just has to stand there smiling and pretending she has any idea what's going on.

Still. It's nice to interact (as much as nodding and being confused counts as 'interacting') with humans that aren't royalty. She can't place their ages, but even with a couple of them looking borderline elderly it's strange to know she's assuredly older than all of them.

Their excitement is endearing if nothing else. The actors absolutely insist on shaking her hand for some reason, which she accepts with great amusement.

"They want to know if you enjoyed the show, my Queen." The Empress murmurs, after a particularly intense round of babbling from the humans.

"Of course." Gura nods. "The main actor captured your likeness well, my lady."

The Empress smiles and (presumably) conveys this to the actors.

She really needs to learn English as soon as she can so she can understand what they're saying. There might be a translation spell for all she knows, but she doubts High Command would let herself be subject to a spell from a foreign power.

If only trust were an easier thing. Progress could have already been made, she imagines. Probably. Maybe?

She shouldn't make assumptions.

With their visit(?) backstage complete and the actors pacified, the Empress leads them further on into the town. "Now, I do want to show some of the new technology the Empire has made in recent years, but most of it is located back in Britain. That said, some of it has made its way down to Gibraltar. Are you familiar with electricity?"

"Not beyond what you've told me."

"Then this should be enlightening." The Empress hums, and guides Gura over to a tall, stately, unfamiliar building. The Empress strolls right in, so Gura does the same (though not before allowing her guards to pass through first). "Welcome to the Colonial Office of Gibraltar; the building, I mean. Not to be confused with the office as a group."

"That's unnecessarily confusing." Gura says bluntly.

"I am well aware." The Empress says with a dry smile. "I had little say in the naming even though I approved its construction."

The office is not the largest building. It's made of some sort of pale stone with red roofing and glass windows and a simple, but well-maintained wooden door. The inside is formal, with a waiting area and a front desk manned by a closed-eyed, smiling man who doesn't even speak when the Empress enters and merely gestures to a doorway.

(How many closed-eyed humans are there here? Atlantean records never mentioned anything about this. Is it some sort of mutation? Evolution? Subspecies?)

While the whole situation is very strange, what's inside the room is interesting in a much more genuine way. A small, unfamiliar dark box sits in the middle of a large table, surrounded by various other unfamiliar items like a tear-drop shaped piece of glass with a coil of wire in the middle or a pair of… she doesn't even know what to call them. It has a palm-sized wooden base with several delicate-looking metal adornments.

"I shall save the more technical explanations for another day, and preferably recounted by an expert." The Empress says, and moves to the other side of the table. "In the simplest terms, this box-like thing you see here is a battery, and through it we can make use of all these other devices you see here."

"Like a magical device needing a mana crystal as a power source?"

"Yes, though with the benefit that it requires no magic at all. Such devices are not restricted to mages."

And so begins the demonstration. Electric lights, communication through clicks (telegraphs they're called), and a few other minor items that, frankly, go far over Gura's head. They seem to mostly be intermediary pieces that make other devices work and while Gura has no doubt they're important it's not really something she can understand without full context.

Still those the lightbulb and a telegraph alone… she can see how that would be revolutionary. No need for fire to create light, communication over long distances even through code, and all without the need for magic! The mages won't be happy to have their jobs infringed on, but the public benefit of simple items like these are immense.

"Of course, I did not bring you here simply to show you a few electrical trinkets." The Empress says with a smile Gura would call smug. "Electricity is not the only innovation we have happened across in recent decades. We've also been experimenting with the advent of steam power."

The Empress gestures to yet another room beyond the one they're currently in, and Gura can admit to eagerness, and she's not disappointed. Using steam to power movement… the engine itself doesn't do anything but generate force, but Gura is giddy at the mention of steam powered boats and other forms of transportation, and the mention of water pumps… surely they could use that for something. The need for fire is annoying, but there must be a way they can make that work.

"Getting electricity to work underwater would be far simpler than steam." The Empress admits while Gura walks around the engine, inspecting the moving parts. "Running a covered wire should be enough, even if it would be slightly expensive. Steam power would be trickier, though I do believe the ocean floor has hydrothermal vents which may be able to work similarly, albeit in a stationary capacity."

An interesting idea… if their thermal vents weren't already busy providing heating. Still, something to keep in mind.

"There are far too many new fields of science opening up or being expanded upon for me to keep up with." The Empress muses as Gura continues to inspect everything, taking as close a look as she's allowed. "We are still expecting much progress in the coming years, if not decades and centuries. We suspect we are breaking new ground entirely."

The Empress didn't need to say so much, Gura is already sold. She wants to go to London just to see more inventions at this point. Imagine what could be learned…

(From the corner of her eye she can see Gwight eyeing the engine with similar interest. He understands the potential magnitude of this.)

"Waterproofing our inventions is not the priority of most our workers, but in the case Atlantis wishes to obtain some of these technologies, it could be managed." The Empress says slyly. Gura knows what she's doing. She's trying to prompt a sale, and it's working. Gura is sorely tempted to demand some of these items as soon as possible, but she restrains herself. She can't think of a practical application at the moment. Patience, Gura, patience…

"These are intriguing indeed." Gura says, and takes a moment to compose herself. She shouldn't be staring like an awed schoolgirl. She has an image to maintain. "Though I cannot make any comment here and now about a purchase. The practicalities of underwater life have nuances quite different from the surface."

"Of course, my Queen." The Empress says teasingly. "You will have to educate me on these 'nuances' sometime."

Somehow that nickname is more embarrassing knowing that Gwight is listening; especially when the Empress puts the slight purr in her voice.

"However-" Oh Poseidon there's more? "-there is much more I can show you on later dates if it becomes possible for you to visit London. Trains, for one, but we have other inventions entirely unrelated to steam power and electricity. The printing press has been revolutionary in many ways, and its only real function is the dissemination of information to the public through papers."

Gura can only imagine how useful that would be. No need for criers and hoping people have time to spare to listen; instead you can simple deposit something on their doorstep for them to read whenever is convenient. For Atlantis the issue is that writing surfaces are not simple to make and written texts need to be copied by hand (or magic, but there are precious few mages which can manage such a thing), but if even one of those things could be improved… "Rest assured I shall make every endeavor to visit you. Your home, that is."

"I eagerly await such a time." The Empress says. "Because unfortunately, I do not have much more to show you in the form of technology, unless you wish to go to the docks and find a steam boat."

"You have some in the docks?!" Gura shouts, and then realizes a moment later how unprofessional that was. "I mean, uh-"

"Yes, we do, my Queen. I'm sure one of the captains would be more than happy to show you." The Empress says with a wide grin on her face. "Shall we go?"

Gura doesn't know what the best way to salvage her dignity here would be. She coughs into her hand. "Er, yes. Thank you, my lady."

(Gwight raises an eyebrow at her and Gura studiously ignores it. She swears she can hear someone stifle a laugh.)

That solidly decides their next course of action. Gura complies when the Empress extends a hand to take, though the subsequent tug and looping of her arm through Gura's feels like mockery at this point with all the eyes on them.

"I would not figure boats were all that much of interest to you, my queen." The Empress murmurs. She's subtly leaning into Gura's side as they walk, and her voice is low enough that Gura isn't quite sure who is supposed to hear it or not. "A personal interest, perhaps?"

"Atlantis used to have a fleet, way back in the day." Gura responds. "Back before our isolation. They were all traded off or eventually scuttled. We still learn about the basics of ship combat during military training."

"That seems unnecessary."

"Yep." Is Gura's only response.

"Hmm~" The Empress hums. The sound curls pleasantly in her ear. Gura refuses to twitch or shudder. Not in front of everyone. She's being baited, she knows she is. "Have you ever worked on a ship yourself? Captained one?"

"No. They were before my time."

"Shame. Boats can be quite majestic if you can handle the swaying of the deck." The Empress muses. "I will have to treat you to a cruise at some point."

"I don't think either of our schedules will be that flexible." Gura says honestly; unable to keep a note of exhaustion from her tone.

The Empress is quiet for a moment. Her hand strokes the back of Gura's. "Perhaps. Still, if the opportunity ever arises, I shall be sure to exploit the chance to the fullest."

That sounds slightly sinister if anything. Then again, so many things about the Empress and her empire are slightly sinister. Gura wonders if that's an intentional diplomatic tactic, or simply coincidence. "Careful my lady. Phrasing like that might lead someone to assume you're planning something less than polite."

The Empress smiles and doesn't say anything. Gura finds herself the one looking away.

(She ends up looking at Gwight, whose gaze is flat and unimpressed. Gura cringes a bit. She's not acting the part of a queen at the moment, is she?)

Gwight inclines his head slightly towards the Empress and raises an eyebrow again. A ghost of a smile twitches on the corner of his mouth.

Great, now one of her generals thinks she's more funny than professional. Still, at least it's Gwight and not someone else.

"Something wrong, my queen?"

Gura stiffens as the Empress' voice tickles her ear; she must be only a few inches away. Gwight pointedly looks forward, away from her, and Gura groans internally. Maybe it was a bad idea to have him along. She should have known the Empress would make fun of her. She doesn't mind the flirting necessarily, but they have an audience. "Nothing at all."

"Hmm…"

She could really do without the Empress stroking her arm. It's very distracting, and she knows her guards are still watching.

Gura inhales sharply when the Empress rests her head on her shoulder. "Good."

Uhhh…

This is what she gets for entering the Empress' domain. She should have known she'd be ambushed like this. Even worse, there are eyes on them; not just their respective escorts but also the public. It's like she's being paraded as an example of the Empress' control…

…or she's reading too much into this. It's hard to tell. This is why she hates politics.

"I would hate for such a lovely lady to be stressed with my company." The Empress purrs directly into her ear, quiet enough that no one else can hear. "My beautiful queen."

Gura doesn't say anything, but that's mostly because she doesn't trust herself not to stammer. How can the ruler of an empire be this audacious? This forward? What's her angle? How is she supposed to respond to this? How does she want to respond to this?

"Just let me handle everything."

For just a moment Gura is sorely tempted, but that's enough to kick some sense into her. She's being toyed with again, and she's not fighting like she should be. She needs to strike back!

"No need, my lady." She murmurs in return, and not-so-subtly tugs the Empress's arm to pull the lady flush against her side rather than merely twining arms. "It wouldn't do for me to be an ungracious guest and impose on my wonderful host, hmm?"

The Empress' smile is a bit too wide for Gura to think she managed to strike back properly. If anything, Gura thinks she might have made a mistake by keeping the Empress so close because now she has to suffer through the Empress pressing herself into Gura's side constantly.

Gura endeavors not to dig her grave any deeper as they progress towards the docks. She also endeavors not to look at Gwight, or any of her guards, and ends up staring mostly at the ground a few meters in front of herself as she walks.

It's a relief to get to the docks and finally have some attention redirected from her bumbling around the Empress. The dock workers look plenty surprised at seeing them return so quickly, and Gura doesn't know if it's a relief or worrying when the Empress doesn't detach herself from Gura's arm to address them and ask for the dockmaster.

"I guess I'm stuck like this for now." Gura thinks while the humans chatter away in English and the Empress (presumably) tries to organize a tour of one of the steam boats. Gura silently hopes they aren't imposing like this. It wasn't part of the plan, and while she has no doubt that at least one captain will allow their Empress to tour for a moment, that might be purely due to status rather than any sort of practicality.

Either way, it takes only a few minutes for someone to come up to them and lead them down the docks. The man leading them has some sort of hat on, speaks loudly, and looks rather excited. Only Poseidon can tell if the excitement is genuine.

Her skepticism is quickly forgotten when they actually get on the ship. She's seen ship designs before in military history class and a few from a distance while on surface patrol during her time in the army, but this is her first time stepping on one and trying to see how her knowledge matches up in practice.

The first thing she realizes is that her knowledge is severely outdated, and not just because of the steam engine. For one, the ship is made primarily of metal and not wood, and rather than being almost an entirely open deck there's some sort of sheltered area at the front for the steering wheel, not to mention all the subtle alterations on the hull and the use of screws and such…

More than ever, Gura wishes she could speak English so she could grill the captain about every part of his ship, but she has to settle for what she can learn through the Empress' translations.

She still ends up asking far more questions than she probably should, and the Empress translates with good humor even while Gura stretches out the tour to nearly two hours asking in-depth questions about everything she can with their limited communication.

It's probably quite unprofessional of her, but this is a valuable chance to gather information!

(That's her excuse and she's sticking to it.)

If the Empress is disappointed by the turn this visit took, she doesn't show it. Gura's trip back will take eight hours with no water mages to speed it up, which means this visit is tragically short.

"You will have to come back soon, hmm?" The Empress whispers while releasing her arm after the end of it all. "I still have so much to do with you."

Interesting phrasing. "If schedule permits, I will be at your side in an instant, my lady." She murmurs back and, feeling a bit audacious, she raises the Empress's hand and presses a kiss to it.

(She ignores the ways Gwight's eyes burn into the back of her head the entire return swim to Atlantis.)

Chapter Text

She successfully avoids Gwight for three days.

A general's schedule is a busy one, but as one of the most senior officers Gwight actually has less to do than younger ones. In a roundabout way it's a reward for loyal and long-lasting service that officers with lengthy service records have to deal with less paperwork and routine chores of office than newer officers. That said, while not formally retired, most generals of Gwight's age serve in less active roles. Rather than being responsible for the training and maintenance of troops, they often serve as advisors, teachers, or potentially researchers (be that for tactics, strategy, weapons, or what have you), as well as usually being a part of military high-command, which is responsible for most broad-strokes decisions or movements the army makes as well as taking more hands-on control of the army during wartime.

Gura would know; she's also a part of military high-command, albeit a more ceremonial member as it's not practical for her to attend every meeting. The King is a member by default, but seeing as she properly earned her position as general in the first place her position is a bit more earned.

The point is, Gwight is busy, but not so busy he can't find a moment to knock on the door of her study during an hour of her precious free time, and there's no avoiding him then.

"Your Majesty." He greets neutrally.

"General." Gura responds a bit tiredly with a nod of her head. She knew this was coming eventually. "What brings you here?"

"A question, and perhaps advice." Gwight says stoically, as if Gura isn't blatantly stalling and they both don't know what this talk is going to be about. "May I sit?"

"Please, General." Gura sighs, gesturing to the chair across from her desk. She closes the door behind him and reluctantly makes her way to her own seat. "Please, speak your mind."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Gwight says, and laces his fingers together and leans forward on her desk. "I must ask, Your Majesty… are such familiar interactions between yourself and the Empress the norm?"

Oh Poseidon, he's going to make her go over this in excruciating detail, isn't he? "...they are, General."

"I see." The old atlantean nods, expression still neutral. "And are these interactions unwelcome?"

Or maybe he's going right for the throat. "Not… exactly, no."

"Allow me to rephrase. Are these interactions, and advances, wanted?"

He's not letting her dance around this. "I… believe they are."

Gwight raises an eyebrow. "You have yet to decide?"

Well… if there is anyone she can air her worries to it's Gwight, isn't it? "I know full well what I feel, but that does not excuse a lack of pragmatism."

"Perhaps." Gwight inclines his head. "Though frankly, Your Majesty, I think you are long past 'pragmatism' being a consideration."

Gura winces, mostly because Gwight is correct. "I suppose I should have expected the operation was compromised already…"

"I did not take you for the dramatic sort, Your Majesty." Gwight snorts. "And quite frankly I think the 'operation', as you put it, could use a bit more compromising if anything. Very little about this debacle has been professional, and I see no reason to start now."

Gura can't say she was expecting Gwight to encourage her unprofessionalism, but Gwight has always had a better handle on things than she has. As strange as it might seem considering she is the queen, Gwight arguably has more political experience than she does. "I see…"

"Though, please, Your Majesty, try not to let the Empress swim all around you." Gwight says dryly; a smirk on his face. "Atlantis needs some level of dignity from its queen."

Gura squints at him. "Very funny, General."

"I have no idea what you mean, Your Majesty." Gwight says with perfect composure. "Requesting dignity from our queen is surely no strain to your energy, unless you mean to imply you have been acting less than dignified?"

Gura pinches her nose. Now he's just poking fun at her. "Dismissed, General."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Gwight says, standing out of his chair. "Do consider being more forthright with your Empress. Open conversation tends to be productive… and allows you to plan around meddling council members better."

With that, Gwight leaves, and Gura groans and rubs her forehead.

"'My' Empress?" Gura grumbles to herself. "Jumping to conclusions much?"

"Wah."

She jolts and looks up, finding a tako calmly sitting atop a shelf. It smiles lazily at her.

"Waaah."

"Listening in for state secrets, huh?" She asks.

"Wah." The tako paws at her with a little tentacle.

"You better not go telling the Empress about this." Gura grumbles. "Made enough of a fool of myself already…"

"Waaah~" The tako purrs at her. It flicks its flaps once.

She doesn't believe for a second the tako is listening to her.

Chapter Text

The next visit is a surprise.

Gura is embarrassed to admit that she walked past the Empress without even registering her at first, so shrouded was she in the shadows of the statue garden, but it did click in her head a moment later that they don't have a statue of the Empress.

"Should I be concerned that you managed to bypass the guards?" Gura says in lieu of a greeting, trying her best to look aloof and unconcerned. She needs to be professional, though that's rather hard when fighting the excitement that instinctively shoots through her.

"Perhaps." The Empress says with a smile. She's dressed in her usual outfit; the revealing dress with the single glove and stocking. "Though will all due respect, my Queen, you have seen the teleportation capabilities I have displayed. Is it so unbelievable that I-"

"Can teleport directly into the palace? Not at all." Gura finishes. She should have anticipated this really. It's a massive security risk… but Gura can't find it in herself to be all that worried. She's too busy being relieved that for once the person ambushing her isn't some noble trying to sell her on marrying their son- or them, for that matter. "To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure, my Lady?"

"I had a spare minute or two." The Empress says simply, her smile growing impish. "And a delivery to make."

Gura raises an eyebrow in confusion as the Empress twists her hand and a book appears in her fingers. It's not her usual book. Not the one with the stylized red eye on the front that floats over her head. This one is simple, wrapped in a blue cover with an english word and an atlantean word printed on it: 'Dictionary'.

"Pardon for taking my time with it, but I wanted to ensure some measure of accuracy." The Empress murmurs, offering it to her.

Gura takes it as calmly as she can, restraining her eagerness. She must maintain composure. "You're too generous."

"You have not seen the depths of my generosity yet." The Empress says, somehow managing to make that sound like a threat. "The only thing restraining me, my Queen, is your busy schedule."

"That sounds like a challenge, my Lady." Gura responds, tilting her head up just a bit to look down her nose at the shorter woman.

"Perhaps." The Empress purrs back. One of her eyelids cracks open, tempting Gura with a glimpse of the stars beneath. "Only if you rise to the occasion, of course. I would not be opposed to you simply allowing my victory."

"Surrender? Before even fighting? You offend me, my Lady." Gura says, putting on a smirk. She leans forward, looming over the shorter woman ever so slightly, and reaches out a hand to tip up her chin. Gura's heart is pounding in her chest, and she hopes desperately she doesn't look as foolish as she feels. "What sort of general would I be if I did not fight back?"

Both of the Empress' eyes are open now, starry voids staring at her with an expression Gura might call shock, if the Empress is even capable of such a thing. Her flaps are sticking straight up, which fills Gura with an odd sort of smugness. It's what gives her the confidence for her next strike.

"Challenge accepted, Ina'nis." Gura growls. She leans in and, both delicately and firm, presses her lips to Ina's. She relishes the way Ina's flaps quiver and her mouth trembles under Gura's. She removes herself with the same delicacy with which she attacked, grinning smugly at the stunned empress. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend and then an offensive to plan."

"A-An offensive?" Ina'nis squeaks.

"Why yes." Gura says, emboldened by Ina'nis' response. "An occasion such as this calls only for the most delicate of strategies for which I must plan… extensively."

Ina'nis squeaks again, wordlessly.

"So again, you must excuse me, my lovely lady, but I have a meeting to attend." Gura says with a sweeping dramatic bow.

She walks out of that statue garden with the stupidest grin on her face, and only barely wrestles it back under control for the meeting. She's never paid less attention in a meeting since she was a child, and she couldn't care less.

Chapter Text

The problem with planning an offensive against Ina'nis is the utter lack of information she's working with. How do you plan around someone you don't know the schedule of, can't expect when they appear, and effectively can't visit. Without outright asking Ina'nis to arrive at a certain place at a certain time (which would ruin any surprise in her opinion) she's very limited on options.

"Wah."

"Stop looking so smug, you." Gura sighs, poking the takodachi between the eyes.

It's face squishes in on itself and its flaps come down to protectively cover its face, only for it to raise one a moment later and deliver her another, more indignant: "Wah!"

"Wah yourself." Gura says.

The takodachi stomps its tentacles on the desk, pouting.

"Unless you're going to help me find some way to surprise your Empress-"

"Wah!" The tako chirps, jumping in place and wiggling its flaps. "Wah wah! Waaah!"

Gura pauses, studying the takodachi excitedly bouncing in front of her. "You… wouldn't happen to know what the Empress likes, would you?"

"Wah!" The takodachi nods rapidly, and tries to gesture with its tentacles. "Wah-wah, wah, wa-ah, wah wah wah!"

Gura watches patiently as the takodachi mimes several things, one of which includes some sort of… writing implement, maybe? They use her pen as an example, but make long swishing strokes in the water in a way no one would actually write. They also mime some sort of knitting or weaving, followed by posing for an imaginary audience (fashion, yes, that sounds familiar. Ina'nis has mentioned that before) and then pointing at… her.

"You can't just point at me and expect me to know what that means."

"Waaah." The takodachi huffs, floating up to her and poking her in the nose. "WAH."

"Me."

The takodachi nods.

"...just, me in general?"

"Wah!" It nods, smiling. "Wah~"

"I don't know if I can use that so easily."

The takodachi sighs dramatically, as if she's just said something very stupid.

"What? You think I can just ask Ina'nis to come and she'll show up?" She asks sarcastically.

"Wah." The takodachi nods.

"...you're serious?"

"Wah."

There's no way Ina'nis has that much spare time that she can just show up because Gura asks, right?

Right?

Though if the takodachi is right…

She drums her fingers on the table. "Do you know The Empress' schedule?"

"Wah!" The takodachi nods.

Gura blinks rapidly. Apparently this little one is smart. She rifles around for some seaweed to write on and brandishes her inscriber. "Alright, give it to me if you don't mind."

Thankfully, the tako is an expert at charades and knows how to point at parts of a sundial to indicate time. It takes about ten minutes because tiny takodachi translation is not a skill she's trained in, but it gives her a rather comprehensive idea of when she might be able to take a snip of Ina'nis' time in the next week.

"How do you think your Empress would feel about a formal, private, dinner a few days from now?"

If a takodachi can smirk, then the takodachi smirks.

"It's been a while since I hosted a formal meal, and I need to 'practice' you see." Gura says airly. "Surely she'll understand, even if I spring it on her a bit unexpectedly."

"Wah." The takodachi nods sagely.

"Can I trust you to get her here on time, away from anyone else who might see her?"

The takodachi salutes, puffing itself up.

"Good soldier." She nods. "I'll give you a note for her in a bit. Need to figure out how to phrase it to not spoil the surprise. After that, it's up to you."

"Wah wah!"

Gura can feel a grin creeping across her face. Ina'nis has had the upper hand for so long. Time to push her advantage.

Chapter Text

Gura has always considered herself better at tactics than strategy. She doesn't know what larger goal she's trying to accomplish with this beyond a generic 'improve her relationship with Ina'. Oh sure, she has a plan for this evening, she managed that just fine, but the goal it furthers is nebulous in her mind. It's more of a feeling than a target with set objectives, and there's no backup plan which would make any self-respecting officer grimace.

Of course this isn't a military campaign so no other officers are here see her lack of greater planning. Not even Gwight, thank Poseidon.

That does mean she's alone with her thoughts though, standing in the back hall of the palace in an outfit that she usually reserved for religious ceremonies or the most formal meetings of the council. The light-blue toga feels a bit absurd, but at the very least she can go without the sash that usually accompanies it. Combine that with the crown she wore as a princess (like hell she's wearing the king's crown if she doesn't have to) and her hair pulled back into a low ponytail with two strands left out to frame her face and she thinks she strikes a reasonably impressive figure. Formal without being too over-the-top.

(Should she have gone with a necklace? She has a few. She's always found jewelry uncomfortable though. She has the bracelet with the sapphire on her though.)

It's strange not to have her trident on-hand. She's so used to having it with her or at least within arm's reach, but right now it's in her room on a weapon rack alongside her training spear and the standard-issue military trident she used before fully taking on the royal trident herself.

Maybe if she keeps thinking about her trident she can forget the fact that while she knows Ina theoretically has free time she is kinda springing this on her out of nowhere, and if she says 'no' then she's going to have to tell the chefs the extra food is unnecessary and that'll make her look quite foolish and-

A pinpoint of black appears in the water and she snaps to attention. Showtime.

The tako appears first wearing a very smug, and then (with what looks suspiciously like a bow and a dramatic swish of its little tentacles) moves out of the way to allow Ina'nis to step through, dressed in a simple purple dress with a familiar wide-brimmed hat on her head.

"Welcome." Gura says, deciding on a whim to match the tako's dramatic behavior. She keeps her tone low, intentionally opting for a rumble in her voice. She bows while extending a hand. "It's an honor to have you join me tonight, Lady Ninomae. It's not often we get such a… striking guest. Please, this way."

Ina silently places her hand in Gura's, and Gura internally sweats at the lack of a visible reaction. That doesn't mean she isn't having an effect, just that Ina is good at hiding it. She allows herself to be led out into the statue garden proper, as Gura won't be so basic as to just use the dining hall. It's too large for just two people and far too conspicuous besides that.

That and she'll take any chance she can get to hide from any snooping council members. It would be all too easy for one of them or their servants to 'conveniently' find their way to the dining hall at a problematic time and make a nuisance of themselves.

Actually… "You'll pardon me if I take our meal somewhere more secluded, My Lady. I wouldn't want anyone spoiling our time together. I much prefer to enjoy my company in private."

Gura doesn't even know if what she's saying sounds stupid or suave, but Ina isn't silently laughing so it must not be too terrible.

(She steadfastly ignores the way the tako is smirking at her.)

There is a single clearing in the middle of the statue garden for events. It consists of a series of tables around a clearing of smooth stone with a gazebo at the back. Gura has had one of the table sets moved up into the gazebo for this occasion in combination with the built-in gems glowing a faint blue for added effect.

The gazebo actually has more enchantments than that. It's historically been used for a number of purposes from dances to weddings to diplomatic meetings, and so comes with other options like a noise-dampening spell that prevents eavesdropping and a turbulence spell that can warp the water around the gazebo to make it hard to see in, and that's just the privacy options. It has a number of much more flashy options too that Gura has no intent to use at the moment. It would probably look a bit absurd to rely on magical effects. She doesn't need magic to compensate for anything, hopefully.

Gura subtly taps a gem on one of the posts as they pass by, signaling to the kitchen that they can bring food whenever they're ready. The kitchen should be expecting them, though Gura had told them to have the main course ready half an hour from now, so there's no rush just yet.

Musturing as much poise as she can manage, Gura pulls out a chair for Ina. "For you, My Lady."

"Thank you." Ina says primly, and sits on the chair, but doesn't slide her hand out of Gura's. "But what if I want my companion to remain close?"

Gura raises an eyebrow, not showing the way her heart flips in her chest. "Close you say, My Lady?"

"Yes."

With only a moment to think about her options, Gura leans in close, bringing up a hand to grab Ina lightly by the chin with her thumb and forefinger and hold her head in place while bringing her own barely a centimeter away. She speaks in a whisper, just for added effect. "Patience, Ina. We shouldn't rush things we're passionate about, now should we?"

Ina mutely shakes her head. Gura tentatively counts that as a good thing and takes her seat with slow, deliberate motions, trying to look for all the world like she's not in a rush. She straightens her toga and steeples her fingers, fixing Ina with a half-lidded stare.

"Now, Ina." Gura says in a low tone, watching for even the slightest twitch from the lady. If it weren't for that hat she might be able to see Ina's flaps and get a better read on her, but she hasn't taken it off yet. She'll just have to make some educated guesses… or maybe she can get Ina to take it off. "Is it human culture to hide behind a hat when you have company? Hmm?"

Ina- to Gura's delight- makes a squeaking noise and quickly takes the hat off, making it vanish between her hands with a swirl of dark magic. She's a bit too proud to see the way Ina's flaps are wiggling and twisting; clearly flustered.

As much as Gura would love to press her advantage, that's not practical at the moment so she instead tries her best to keep the intensity of the moment. Apparently this somewhat regal and haughty persona is working well. She needs to act demanding without actually asking too much of Ina. "You must tell me what the Empire considers 'proper' manners. I can only imagine the Empress herself is a picture of formality. What's the secret, My Lady?"

"W-Well-"

"Oh? Is stuttering acceptable manners in the Empire, or simply your own… quaint mannerisms? Is my presence so overwhelming?" Gura asks with a raised eyebrow.

Ina's flaps curl slightly as she takes a breath and composes herself, and she finally speaks without stuttering. "I think you know very well what you're doing, My Queen."

"Guilty as charged." Gura says shamelessly, not letting up with the intensity of her stare. "Are you implying you'd like me to stop?"

Ina is silent in response, and Gura fights down a smirk.

"I did say I was planning an offensive, My Lady." She reminds Ina with just the slightest rumble in her voice. "I'm merely pushing my advantage. It wouldn't do to let my target off so easily, would it? I fully intend to sample the sweet taste of victory, and victory requires a… firm hand."

She has no idea if that counts as suggestive, but it does seem to be having an effect. Ina's cheeks have turned a bit red and she isn't arguing with her.

"Of course, if you wish to simply concede now…" Gura ventures, finally allowing the knowing smirk to cross her face.

"Not a chance." Ina refuses.

"Excellent." Gura says with a smile, showing teeth. "I do find it cute when my opponent struggles a bit~"

She does not cackle when Ina squeaks once more, but she does bask in the knowledge that her offensive is working better than she could have hoped.

"Now, I believe I asked you a question, and I still want an answer." Gura says haughtily, returning to their former conversation. She keeps her grin though. She's earned it. "Please, take your time. I'm nothing if not patient, My Lady."

She has no illusions Ina will remain flustered forever, but in the meantime she'll relish every second of it she can take. This courtship is a war and she intends to win her first battle in devastating fashion.

Ina will learn thoroughly what she's gotten herself into by challenging a general to single combat, and Gura won't be found wanting.