You wish there were someone along to hear how witty you are. (And to keep you company in the gallows if this affair goes awry.)
Approaching the Chapel
Sunlight streams into a vaulted hall lined with statues of Kings gone dirtside. You tread lightly on the stones, obscuring yourself between the statues and the wall. Though you've been a little bit of everywhere in Westfenster by now, this quarter of the Palace is less familiar to you.
The entrance to the austere chapel is at the far end of the hall. The short stone building looks plucked from the countryside and brought indoors, a structure within a structure, for a quick sip of godliness in the middle of a busy monarch's day. Amber lanterns high off the ground encircle the upper half of the holy space.
You freeze as you see Lady Gramercy momentarily poke her head from out of the chapel to regard a particular statue before turning to murmur something to an unseen companion. Egad, this is really happening, you think, feeling your heartbeat pound like an oarmaster's drum.
A woody rustle across the hall catches your attention. With a start you realize that Audrey is here as well. The slim ginger-haired maid has an armful of wreaths to lay at the feet of particular statues in commemoration of the anniversaries of their crowning achievements, like dying. It seems she's nearly done with the task—she only has a handful left and is eyeing the passage out.
Who knew that was a task that'd fall to her? And who knew it would bring her to this place at this moment?
You hang in the shadows a moment more to decide what to do.