Jularra slowed, then stopped. She tilted her head in the direction she thought the sounds had come from.
“Jularra?” Korden whispered.
“Listen.”
Another feminine moan. A male chortle accompanied it.
Jularra stormed into a nearby room. It appeared empty. She paused and listened. More moans from behind a wardrobe.
“Who’s over there?” Korden shouted.
Sounds of shuffling scratched from the far side of the room. Flailing limbs banged and slapped against the wood of the wardrobe. The familiar face of Flemmal, Burrek’s regular army commander, came stumbling from behind it. He covered himself with a clump of clothes.
“Your Majesty, I, er…”
Jularra shook her head as Keleah crept out from the opposite side. Her head hung in shame in front of the queen.
“Keleah? What the fuck is this? You were just dressing me thirty minutes ago!”
Jularra continued her reprimand as she gestured wildly at Flemmal.
“Quit using my tower as your brothel, Flemmal! Quit using my staff as your whores! How many fucking times do I need to tell you?”
“Uh, we were just—”
“Shut up! Just stop it! I wish you spent as much time training our armies as you do fucking my staff! Stop!”
Jularra glared at him, her chest heaving with molten rage from her repeated castigations. She stared at him, furious.
“Do you understand? I will not tolerate this!”
“I understand,” he said quickly.
Jularra whipped out a pointing finger at Keleah.
“I fucking can’t believe you. I’ll deal with you, later.”
She continued to stare at Keleah, then finally turned to Korden and the Bedrock to ensure that there was no mistaking how serious she was. After looking back to Flemmal one more time, she stormed from the room.
Back in the hall, Jularra leaned in to Korden. “If you or anyone else catches any of that shit again, be sure I’m told,” she directed him. “Flemmal, Keleah, or anyone else.”
Korden nodded.
Jularra shook her head as they continued along the hall, beyond disgusted with Flemmal, and disappointed in Keleah.
Once the main portcullis had been ratcheted up, they passed through the modest portico and out into the main courtyard. The queen waved as her presence was shouted and echoed by guards in various locations. Citizens, nobles, visitors, and merchants all stopped to pay their respects. Her heart and mind found a secret stash of peace, as they always did when she was in the main courtyard, and it helped to soothe her current fury. Seeing her city go about its daily business—the life coursing through its streets and alleys—renewed in her a sense of purpose and possibility.
She crossed the courtyard and offered more waves, each one calming her further. She knew some of the faces and greeted them sincerely by name. As they approached the state tower, small groups of clustered crowds split up, with some people disappearing into the tower and others dispersing into larger throngs. Jularra looked to Korden and waved him over. He jogged to her side.
“I suspect someone here today had some involvement with my attacker. Be sure to look out for any peculiarities,” she ordered softly.
“Yes, of course. I had thought that as well,” he replied. “Possibly more than one.”
Jularra turned to Korden, eyes widening slightly at the suggestion that the situation could be even more dire than she had thought.
“Possibly,” she agreed. They continued walking as she considered the dozens of implications.
“We must all be extra vigilant today,” Jularra added. “Yesterday’s failure may be a victory today.”
Korden slowed his pace to speak with the nearby Bedrock while Jularra scanned the groups at the tower's entrance for anything suspicious. The mystery didn’t prevent her from stopping and chatting with some of the citizenry, though.
“That song again, Marliban?” Jularra teased the musician. Korden and the other Bedrock shifted, anxious at lingering in such an exposed spot, but Jularra refused to be intimidated.
Marliban swung the instrument out from his chest, playfully prompting the queen for a request.
“Why not something more…” Jularra trailed off, considering her mood, before finishing firmly with, “unrelenting?”
The minstrel’s eyes sprung wide, having no obvious idea how to interpret such an adjective musically. He usually got asked to play the same three tunes, or a love serenade, or a dance piece of some kind.
Jularra recognized his discomfort. “Something driving," she added, "and powerful. Ambitious!”
The minstrel remained frozen for a moment, still having trouble with being put on the spot with such a request. But with the clarification from Jularra, his face expanded in an epiphany, and he began strumming his instrument once more. A few bars in, Jularra recognized the piece as "Tullinnia", a beloved Acorilinian folk piece. She smiled heartily and clapped once as she bowed her head in appreciation. She looked to Korden in amusement at the exchange and passed under the state tower’s portico.
The minstrel’s song skipped along, fortifying her resolve with its anchoring downbeats and rich chords as she wove through the edges of the crowd. As the tune faded behind her, Jularra mentally shuffled the various disciplines of her political acumen and stacked the deck with cards she hoped would help her. As she entered the state tower and passed through its portcullis, she internally drew her cards in preparation for the game awaiting her.
Like the most important rooms in each tower, the official state reception hall was on the top floor. A Bedrock shouted at the lift operators, “Make way for Queen Ju—”
“No, no,” she interjected. “I don’t have time for that.” With that, she grabbed a handful of her clothes, pulled them to one side, and leaned into the door leading to the staircase.
“Come on,” she ordered.
The Bedrock looked to Korden. He looked back at them. Jularra rolled her eyes.
“Yes, the stairs,” she confirmed with mild agitation. “Move it.”
The Bedrock did not allow themselves to hesitate again. At their queen’s orders, they surrounded her and started climbing the stairs. Though Jularra and her fellow
