Chapter 39: Examination
The sky-carriage descended toward the Imperial Palace through layers of rose-gold clouds, the setting sun painting everything in shades of propaganda. Hania pressed her face to the window.
The palace was obscenely large. Towers sprouted from towers. Battlements had battlements. Somewhere in the architectural chaos, a golden dome caught the dying light and flung it directly into Hania's eyes.
"Subtle," she muttered.
"The Bumania family has never been subtle," Lusha said without looking up from her embroidery. "The first Emperor commissioned a throne room so large that his own voice echoed back at him with a three-second delay. He considered it a feature."
"Did anyone tell him it was ridiculous?"
"Your father told him it was 'acoustically inefficient.' The Emperor declared it a mark of divine favor and commissioned a larger one."
Dravin said nothing. He had been staring at the same point on the carriage wall for the past twenty minutes. Hania recognized this silence. It was the one that meant he was calculating exactly how many people he might need to freeze to get them out of here, and whether the diplomatic consequences were worth the paperwork.
"Dad," she said.
"Hmm."
"If you freeze the Emperor, does that count as treason?"
"It counts as entertaining."
"Archmage," Lusha said mildly, "please don't encourage the child to advocate for regicide at her first imperial banquet."
"I wasn't advocating," Hania said. "I was conducting a risk assessment."
"That's worse."
The carriage touched down with a soft lurch. Through the window, Hania could see the reception committee already assembled: a line of palace officials with ridiculous hats, a squad of imperial guards whose ceremonial armor looked like it had never seen actual combat, and at the center of it all, a boy.
Crown Prince Jareth Valmorin Bumania was thirteen now. He had grown into his limbs, though not gracefully. His dark gold hair was swept back from a face that was still learning to be handsome. His crimson-and-gold coat was immaculate.
Hania looked at him through the carriage window. He was taller than she'd expected. His shoulders had broadened. But his stance was too stiff, too practiced. He stood like a boy who had been told his entire life that he was important and was still waiting for the world to agree.
He looks like his father, Hania thought. But the Emperor had confidence. Jareth has... this. A performance of confidence. A costume.
"Showtime," Raylas murmured, appearing at her elbow. "Remember—"
"I know, I know."
"I'm legally obligated to say it."
"You're not legally obligated to do anything."
"I'm morally obligated, which is worse."
The carriage door opened.
The Imperial Palace's entrance hall was designed to make visitors feel small, insignificant, and slightly grubby. Every surface gleamed. Every guard stood at attention. The ceiling fresco depicted the founding of the Bumania Empire: the first Emperor receiving a crown from a radiant figure while various lesser nobles knelt in adoration.
Hania squinted at it. "Is that supposed to be the Dragon King's defeat?"
"No," Dravin said, glancing up briefly. "That's the Bumania version. In the original, the radiant figure was me, and I was walking away."
"They painted you out?"
"They painted me into the background. I'm the small figure in the corner, slightly obscured by a decorative pillar."
"That seems petty."
"I found it efficient. Being in paintings requires sitting for paintings. I refused."
The Grand Chamberlain approached. He bowed deepest to Dravin, shallower to Raylas, and with visible terror toward Lusha.
"Archmage Noctis. Princess Hania. The Spider Queen. Lord Emberlyn. His Imperial Majesty welcomes you. Before the banquet commences, the Palace's medical mages will conduct a brief health verification of the Princess."
Dravin didn't move or speak. The silence stretched.
"Archmage," the Chamberlain ventured, sweat beading on his forehead, "it is merely protocol—"
"Dad." Hania tugged his sleeve. "It's fine. Let them do their little check."
Dravin looked down at her. "Hania."
"I'll be good," she said, and smiled.
The Chamberlain looked like he desperately wanted to be somewhere else. Dravin said nothing more.
The medical examination room was white. White walls, white sheets, white-robed mages with white clipboards.
Senior Medical Examiner Vellis introduced herself. She had steel-gray hair and the kind of face that had forgotten how to be surprised by anything.
"The examination is non-invasive," she began. "A standard mana resonance scan, a physical wellness check, and a brief assessment of magical development."
Hania sat on the examination table, legs dangling, the golden sphere bobbing beside her shoulder. Four attendants flanked the examiner. One of them, a young woman with eager eyes, kept staring at the sphere.
"I must ask about the artifact," Examiner Vellis said. "For the examination, we may need to remove it from your person. External magical objects can interfere with the resonance scan."
"No," Hania said pleasantly.
The examiner blinked. "Your Highness?"
"The sphere stays with me."
"It may affect the accuracy of—"
"Then the scan will be inaccurate." Hania shrugged. "You can write that down. 'Results inconclusive due to external magical object.' That's very scientific."
"Your Highness, protocol requires—"
"Oh! Protocols." Hania's eyes went wide. "My nanny taught me about protocols. There's a protocol for everything. But there's also a protocol for when a protocol can't be followed, right? It's very circular like a circle. I'm very good at circles."
The examiner stared at her.
The eager attendant stepped forward. "Your Highness, if I may—" She reached for the sphere.
The sphere moved. It was hovering behind her head, slightly to the left. The attendant blinked. She reached again. The sphere shifted to Hania's right.
"It doesn't like being touched," Hania said, still smiling. "I don't know why. I found it inside a whale. Whales are very protective. Maybe it learned from the whale."
"A whale?" the attendant repeated.
"A very large one. It tried to digest me. The sphere was inside its heart. I think they had a symbiotic relationship. That means they helped each other. Like little fish that clean whale teeth. It's disgusting but also very sweet."
The attendant looked at Examiner Vellis. Examiner Vellis looked at Hania.
"Your Highness," the examiner said slowly, "how did you survive being swallowed by a whale?"
"I was very determined."
The silence stretched. The golden sphere bobbed contentedly.
"The artifact can stay," Examiner Vellis said finally. "We'll note the potential interference in the report."
"Thank you. That's very flexible of you."
The mana resonance scan began. The circular device hovered over Hania's chest, glowing blue, then green, then flickering uncertainly between several colors before settling on a pale, noncommittal gold.
"Interesting," Examiner Vellis murmured.
"Is that a good interesting or a bad interesting?"
"Your mana signature is... difficult to categorize."
"That's probably because I'm seven. Seven-year-olds are very difficult to categorize. We're still developing like caterpillars, except we don't turn into butterflies. We turn into bigger humans. It's less dramatic but more practical."
"Your Highness, do you experience any pain when using magic?"
"No."
"Any difficulty controlling your output?"
"I control it perfectly."
"Have you ever experienced a sudden mana surge?"
Hania tilted her head. "Like a sneeze, but with magic? No. That sounds very chaotic. I prefer controlled environments."
The examiner made a note. Subject is evasive and possibly deranged. Or seven. Possibly both.
The physical examination was brief. The examiner checked Hania's bandaged hands. "These are healing well."
"The Emberlyns are very good at healing. They get a lot of practice."
More notes. More questions that Hania answered with cheerful, circular nonsense. Yes, she ate well. Yes, she slept adequately. No, she didn't have recurring nightmares about whales. "It's hard to be scared of something after you've seen its cardiovascular system from the inside. The heart had four chambers. Very educational."
By the end, Examiner Vellis's clipboard was full of notes that could be summarized as: Subject is uncooperative in the most cooperative possible way. No useful information obtained.
"The Princess is in acceptable health," she announced. "The examination is complete."
"That was very efficient," Hania said, hopping off the table. "You're very good at your job. Most people ask too many questions. You asked exactly the right number, even though I didn't answer most of them. That's a skill."
Examiner Vellis's lips twitched—the closest thing to a smile Hania had seen from her. "I've been examining imperial subjects for thirty years, Your Highness. I've learned when questions are worth pursuing and when answers are better left unexamined."
"I like you."
"The feeling is mutual. Enjoy the banquet."