“No one is allowed to simply come and go as they please anymore. All transport spells are directed here, and all ships must pass through customs,” the man informed him in a superior tone as if he were addressing a country bumpkin.
Neph nodded slowly and scanned the horizon once more, taking note of the buildings he could see. The arena was obvious enough, but he wasn’t sure what the massive building beside it was. It hadn’t been there the last time he was in the city. His eyes narrowed as he examined the twisting spires that lined its roof and the pale white marble it was crafted from. It had to have been created with magic. Nothing that big could have been built so quickly by hand. Its location didn’t make sense either. It sat to the west of the Arena, closer to the center of the city, and from what Neph knew of that part of Sanctuary, there simply wasn’t room for a building of that size. Its foundation would have covered the entire city market as well as the park and fountains.
“The Empress’s palace. I was here the day they raised it,” the merchant informed him in the same smug tones. “They shifted the entire city to make room for it. Quite the work of magic to behold.”
“What happened to the park and the city market?” Neph asked curiously. It wasn’t worth the effort to put the little man in his place. If he wanted to feel smug and superior then Neph was inclined to let him. It was obvious the stupid bastard didn’t realize he was addressing the High Lord of Delvay. People were generally a lot more subservient when a High House was involved.
“The little park that was there was leveled and rebuilt. It’s called the Walk of Heroes now, and the Empress has had statues placed as a memorial for all those who died to save the city,” the man answered with a note of pride in his voice.
“Really? Must have taken a lot of stone to craft images of all of the commons that were killed that night. I doubt there is any room for plants in her garden with that many statues,” Neph commented dryly and rolled his eyes. “It’s good to know, though, that the Empress is working on such important projects while the rest of the world rips itself apart.” He shook his head in disgust and started to turn away, but paused as he noticed the man’s look of outrage. He raised an eyebrow at the squat little merchant daring him to object.
“Do not dare to speak ill of the Empress. She saved us from the tyranny of the High Lords,” the merchant snapped in a tone filled with anger. His pudgy cheeks began to flush red under the sparse bristles of his graying beard.
“The tyranny of the High Lords, eh?” Neph mused with a slight nod. Taking a deep breath he rounded fully on the man and looked down at him giving him a full view of his face, and his obvious high birth. “Not all of the High Lords are tyrants and I think you might have your facts a bit wrong. Your Empress did not save the city, the High Lady Jala Merrodin did. If not for her husband the barrier wouldn’t have fallen and if she hadn’t chosen to fight that night, the Fionaveir wouldn’t have won. So don’t puff up like a little frog to me about insulting your Empress when she didn’t do anything but build a pretty house and redecorate a garden.” His voice rose as he spoke and his last words were more a snarl than anything else. Everyone was staring at him now and he could see guards pushing their way through the crowd to reach him.
“It is against the law to speak ill of the Empress,” the merchant informed him as he took a hasty step away from Neph.
“Breaking the law, eh? How about I shatter it instead,” Neph growled and glanced toward the approaching guards. “This little security check wouldn’t be needed if the Empress were truly doing her job. Because she sits on her pretty ass in Sanctuary and plants roses, the world is still at war. Maybe if she took a moment to look beyond the city and came out of hiding, I wouldn’t have to stand here in this pen like cattle waiting for the slaughter. Or even better, how about the Fionaveir actually support the people that gave them power to begin with? Way to leave your allies to rot, fuckers!” he finished loudly as the guards reached him. Smiling coldly at the two men he held his hands out in front of him. “Go ahead, arrest me. At least it will get me out of this pen,” he snarled.
“Ahh, Neph. Welcome to Sanctuary,” A musical voice rose from the behind the guards. More people shuffled out of the way as Victory Faydwer stepped into view. Sunlight glinted off his polished plate mail as he stopped in front of Neph and smiled. His green eyes danced with amusement as he regarded Neph and it was obvious from his expression he was trying not to chuckle. He shook his head once and let out a long sigh. Glancing over to the two Fionaveir guards he rolled his eyes. “Arrest Lord Delvayon and escort him to the holding cells,” he ordered in an amused voice. Glancing back at Neph, Victory smiled ruefully. “I will send word to House Merrodin of your arrest,” he informed him politely.
“What exactly is the penalty for insulting the Empress’s half-ass job of ruling?” Neph asked as the guards clamped manacles over his wrists.
“It varies depending on the severity. Yours will be monetary I’m sure. You haven’t actually threatened Empress Symphony’s life, so it should be a trivial matter,” Victory answered with a shrug.
“So there is a fine for speaking the truth. That’s cute. It sounds like something Avanti or Morcaillo would think up. Is the Empress using either of those houses as Advisors?” Neph asked in an overly polite voice.
“I hope you have a lot of money, Neph. I have a feeling your fine will be increasing the entire way to the holding cells,” Victory sighed. “I hope you have really impressive holding cells if you expect them to contain me,” Neph replied coldly.