The Scorched Throne

XIV - Adonis

We make our way towards the heart of the city, the rough gravel of its outer edges consolidating into cobblestone. The Seafaring Guild's headquarters are right next to the docks, in the very center of the row. The diamond skull and crossbones sculpture—far bigger than a real skull—is blindingly bright on top of the center flagpole marking the building's location. It is both a symbol of power and wealth; they broadcast their location, clear and flashy, for all to see. And made out of pure diamond, no less. If a visitor cannot even look directly at their symbol, how could they even try to stand against the Guild?

The Duchess strides in confidently, in the lead as always. Prince Evzen is beside her, discussing something I cannot make out. In the short time since the events of the poison shop, most of which I have not even learned of yet, the three royals seem to have formed an even deeper bond.

Many of the soldiers I've known have formed unbreakable bonds during hardship and violence. Standing together, through fear and pain and triumph, will do so faster than anything else. It's exactly why I'm still wary of the two. Bonds formed so swiftly, even if they do feel trustworthy, can snap easily. I know from experience.

The Seafaring Guild's headquarters, The Domum Calvariae, appears. No fence borders the building, only a few sentries. Sailors, carting wagons of gems or sacks full of textiles, bustle in and out of the side entrances. The main hall is open to the street, inlaid with elaborate, colorful tiles and mosaics. From my position, I can just barely see the top of its famed dome; crafted by a thousand Sitoan artisans working for a year, made entirely of stained glass. According to a Vaporean soldier I once served with, the bright sunlight filters through and turns the room a million colors. At night, on certain full moons, the moonlight hits it just the right way to project the visage of a skull onto the ballroom floor. I'm not sure if that last part is true, but I still picture the sight as we walk in.

In front of us, shallow pools and burbling fountains divide the hall. The ceiling above is divided by a channel of cut glass, defined by sharp facets that catch the daylight. Pirates move through quickly, their rough attire and weapons starkly contrasting the serenity and finery of the place. We walk under an ornately engraved limestone arch, studded with tiny gems.

I notice Princess Maia's expression. Satisfied, peaceful, her eyes closed and face turned up to the sun. She must feel at home here, I realize. This place is done in the opulent yet understated Stele style. I would feel more at peace too if I found a building that looked like my childhood home in Avia. The last place I knew peace.

The Duchess seems perfectly at ease, glancing around in wonder at the beauty of the place. A shaft of reflected light hits her face beneath her hood, and I can see how her eyes sparkle in it, the threads of gold unearthing themselves. I shift my gaze away before she can catch me staring.

The main hall opens up into a lounge area, furnished with plush rugs, cushions, and low tables. Every part of the building is white and well-lit. Intricate, jewel-toned mosaics whorl and swirl across the floors, a rainbow of colors. Guild members lounge, chat, eat, and drink. A reception desk to our left, likely for guests and visiting dignitaries, lines the back wall. More wide limestone arches open up into a central courtyard to our right, full of lush flowers, plants, and more pools.

Instinctively, I count the number of exits, the visible weapons strapped to pirates, the number of allies and potential enemies and bystanders. From the way her eyes sweep back and forth, I can tell the Grand Duchess is as well.

We approach the front desk. I stay back, observing as she chats animatedly with the young woman managing it. They exchange a few words; the woman laughs and nods her head. The Duchess smiles and waves us in.