Mikhail arrived right outside the door to the Emperor's study that was situated in the Frumier Palace. There were no sentries or knights stationed across the corridor for the reason that they'd serve no purpose.
"Your Majesty, I'll be intruding." He said as he knocked twice to announce his appearance.
In order to not cause a ruckus, Percival applied the most minimum of force to push the door open. He was welcomed with the towering stacks of documentation on top of the Emperor's enormous, U-shaped executive desk. Mikhail halted his advance, half the distance from the entrance to the table.
"I've come per your request, Your Majesty." Latterly of declaring his greeting, he bid for the Emperor to acknowledge his existence.
Momentarily, the Monarch spoke, though with his eyes were focused on the parchment that he was reading.
"You're here. Is something the matter?"
The knight deliberated on whether he should mention the altercation that happened anteriorly. Ultimately, he judged that it was too trivial of an issue and merely set it aside.
"There is none, Your Majesty."
Solely the smooth sound of a quill pen gliding athwart the wooden surface preceded Mikhail's response. The two men retained their easeful lull, lingering appositely.
Once the Emperor was done writing, he placed the quill back to its metal holder and shifted his stare towards his visitor.
"It's simply a matter of time before the Estrama Empire bites our bait. Ergo, waging war with their nation will be viable soon. I'll entrust this operation to you, Mikhail Percival. Seize Seraphiel's pioneer anchorage territory in the west. Begin the preparations in a mensith. "
"I've received your decrees." The retainer bent his torso forward, bowing to accept the responsibility that was given to him, as he responded.
"Very well. Moving on, you attempted to pursue the sender of the arcane scroll, right? What came of it?"
Mikhail straightened his body and looked at the Emperor with an annoyed gaze.
"Yes, we did, Your Majesty. A mana string materialized from the parchment, so I went with Jibrail Sagramore to trace it. We landed at the Vroten Mountain Ranges. However, the endpoint of the trail brought us to a lion's carcass where the string was pinned. There was nothing further that we could do."
The Emperor leaned on the cushion of his seat, ruminating on their predicament.
"Cautious, aren't they? How vexing."
"I share your sentiments, Your Majesty."
"Then, we ought to abandon the option of tracking using the scroll. Commission Marquess Vera Morholt, and the tower magicians, to analyze the history of mana movement in Ikdes and coordinate with Iophiel to enshroud their departure. I do not want to amuse the inquiries of some nosy individuals."
"Affirmative, Your Majesty."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thirty-two diers have passed ever since the Emperor reprobated any audience requests, and it sounded like that there were no signs of the mandate changing in the near future.
The maids, Tara and Sura, were in a bind searching for a way for them to have a talk with His Majesty.
"I am worried. What do we do?"
"I am too. Can we barge in the Frumier Palace?"
"I don't think so. We do not have permission to do that."
"So what do we do? We need to hurry!"
The twins gawked at each other, their fists clenched and raised in front of their chests.
"We have no choice! We should bomb the palace!"
"No! What are you saying?! One of us will drop-in the Emperor's residence."
"One of us? I'll go."
"Don't forget to inform them of the matter properly."
"Alright!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A sentinel did not resist his body's desire to yawn. It was only the second hour of his uneventful warding chore, but he's jaded.
'The castle is as peaceful as always. What is our function even? I doubt that we could protect His Majesty in case of an attack. Instead, we're going to be the ones receiving protection.' He thought, assured of his inference.
Unbeknownst to him, a person that would make his dier a tad different was nighing.
A few seconds later, as if on cue, the sentry sighted someone dashing en route to his position.
'Wha- what the, who is that?! Did I just jinx my dier?!' He was at his wit's end, unnecessarily frenzied.
The person eventually elapsed their sprint a meter away from the palace guard. It was a woman wearing the customary uniform for the maidservants of the royals. The entire outfit was modest; a black, long-sleeved maxi dress that reached the ankles; topped with a white apron that was decorated with frills on the shoulder part; a white shirt undergarment with solely the collars exposed; heeled brown boots as the footwear.
'A maid? Where is her badge?'
The uniform had to be accompanied with a badge, fastened on the left collar, bearing the emblem of the castle they're employed under. Withal, this maid had none.
'Anyway, it is already the 1st Noven. They should be busy attending to their master's needs this time of the dier. I must send her back.' The sentry considered his course of action, yet it was easier said than done.
The woman glared at him as if intending to drill a hole on his pitiful skull, unlearning to provide her greetings. The man felt miserable and was at a loss on how to deal with such a character. Moreover, he couldn't just show hostility to a person who's not being contentious.
"E-excuse me, it might be better for you to return to your post. You might get a scolding from your steward."
The lady did not move as to blink.
"H-hello? Are you listening?"
Unanticipatedly and much to the guard's consolation, an ebony black carriage, with inlays adorned with 24k gold pieces, drawn by four heavy warmblood horses touched down in the vicinity. It was a carriage too extravagant for most aristocrats, but nothing short of simple at the same time. The embellished hallmark of the Ducal household of Claudas was plastered on the outer wall of the equipage.
'It's the Prime Minister!' The sentry rejoiced in his head, glad that someone would partake the burden of awkwardness with him.