Narda and Myka grinned at Ysaryn’s greeting, though when they followed the elf out into the chamber they had to drag Daryll along, who had been making mental notes about the runes around the gate. When the giantess saw Envy, she grinned wide and immediately stepped forward to offer her hand and embrace him. “Far, far too long, my good man,” she replied. “And now with the gate, perhaps we can have longer conversations.” 
“’Conversations’, she says,” Myka said, shaking her head. “You weren’t kidding, Narda. Envy [i]is[/i] an impressive fellow.” 
Daryll, too, was looking at Envy, his mouth partly open as if already preparing for the barrage of questions his mind was formulating. Before he could, however, Ysaryn welcomed them formally, then Ruli stepped forward. Daryll shook his hand, grinning. “Only took a siege of the Capital to finally get here, but yes.” 
“Glad to see you alive, matron of honor,” Myka greeted, tipping her hat. 
To Envy’s question, Daryll finally got the chance to face him properly, taking the Kartaian’s hand to shake. “The very same. Though I’m not sure what you’ve been told about me to warrant that reaction. If it’s from Kire, I doubt all of it is good. ‘Third worst nag’ is my current standing in her eyes, I think.” 

Gavin came jogging into the caves, already grinning. While he was dressed in more festive attire, they were of the same colorful variety as those worn by Ysaryn and Envy. If he was going to be dolled-up for a formal occasion, he wouldn’t be wearing that severe, lifeless attire he was forced into at Cordon. His hair he hadn’t bothered fixing at all. “Just to be clear, when Amrians say ‘celebration’, you mean food, right?” he said in greeting. Narda laughed.
“Of course, boy. Or I wouldn’t be attending at all,” the giantess remarked, before turning her attention to Rab. “Ah. I have only met this one once before, if memory serves.”
“What time’s the feast, Nard? Think we have time to look around here?” Myka said. Daryll, too, looked eager to loiter.
“Let me see. There will be a great ceremony, where Kire officially resumes the title of Empress. Wear the crown again and sit on the throne and go through the formalities of thanking the lords, etcetera,” Narda replied, also for the benefit of the guests. “But after that, food and drink. And once the big celebration is over, I think Her Majesty said something about wanting to get drunk by the beach here, so a smaller gathering with wine and ale afterwards, just friends and family. Who’s coming?” 

Once they had settled the matter of the number of people coming through with them, they led the way back to the gate, with Narda staying by Envy’s side. “It should be safe for Envy inside the Tower, with regard to sunlight. Kire mentioned your sensitivity,” Daryll said. “And don’t worry, the Tower’s nice and clean now. No more noxious fumes from expired alchemy chamber supplies.” Gavin stuck out his tongue at the memory of the smell. “But from the Tower, we’d have to do that Shadow-walk thing into the Throne Room itself.” 

The doors between the Great Hall and the Throne Room had been opened. Though repairs weren’t fully done, the Palace was at least inhabitable again. Kire wasn’t aiming for perfection, anyway; she wanted to show them she was an Empress in hard times and good, and not even the aftermath of a siege would stop her from finally celebrating their return. The whole family was here: Elva was with the two little cousins, Janes was nearby, accompanying the Lord Ulrich, and Ed was conversing with the other [i]Wenches[/i] in attendance. The Great Hall was filled with flowers—purple orchids—and banners of the golden Wyvern on a green field hung from between the columns. 

Kire was still in her old chambers upstairs. [i]More than a year’s wait.[/i] She looked in the mirror at the dress she wore, feeling strange to be attired thus after a long while. Emeralds hung from her ears and neck, the collar of her dress open enough to make some of her other scars visible.  [i]So much, and so little, has changed.[/i] She had momentarily considered wearing gloves, but as she looked at her scarred hand, she decided against it. She wasn’t going to be a flawless Empress, at least for the remainder of her tenure. She had never been flawless, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how loudly they demanded. 
A servant knocked politely and told her that her guests have arrived. With a nod, Kire turned and left the room to head downstairs.