to the Citadel and an audience with the Regent.
But he had given his name at the guardhouse at the bottom of the lane, the guard had looked at him, allowed him into the structure to sit by their small fire (for which he was thankful, northern Airen by the sea was shockingly chill), and asked him to wait.
Another guard had cantered up the lane on his horse, only to canter back down in what could be naught but half an hour.
To which he had spoken quietly with the man who was in the guardhouse with Jellan.
That guard came to him, and he said, “His Grace awaits you at the Citadel. Please remount your horse. The corporal will guide you there.”
And now, there he was.
The guard who had guided him to the Regent’s palace was sweeping open the grand doors to the Citadel, and Jellan was walking through.
Easy as that.
He nearly smiled to himself, and would have, if he did not have to assume an air of urgency in heroically escaping the Beast and sharing with them the creature walked amongst them.
But it was difficult to force it down.
He had sat a number of diplomatic tables, and he was a well-known Go’En of the Go’Doan.
But truly, he did not expect this quick of reception.
The door barely closed behind him, and he was blinking in some shock at the massive spray of colorful gladiolus atop a handsome table that adorned the always severe, and even grim (to Jellan’s opinion on the décor) entryway of the Sky Citadel, when he heard the quick staccato clip of boots hitting stone.
He looked in that direction to see Macrinus, Cassius’s closest lieutenant, approaching, alongside him Hera, Elena’s captain.
Dismissing Hera and watching Macrinus, Jellan thought, Ah, but it is good to again be amongst the Airenzian.
His dead lover Rupert had been Airenzian, with his tall, muscular body and his thick cock.
Airenzian, like the Firenz and Go’Doan, had little problem with male on male lovers. Though they were quieter about it than the Firenz.
It was female on female lovers that had been outlawed many years ago.
Jellan wondered, without much interest, in the sweeping change that the Regent was making that they’d heard much news of in their meanderings, if Cassius had put a stop to that law as well.
He then ceased wondering this as he noticed Hera move her arm out then in, to rest her hand on her stomach, just as he felt an odd chill, as if he was under a warm blanket, and someone had tugged it off.
“G’Jell,” Macrinus greeted shortly, and the hall might no longer look severe and grim, but Macrinus’s expression was.
Hera appeared even less inviting.
He shook the curious feeling he’d had aside as naught but a draught and focused on Cassius’s man.
“Macrinus,” he replied. “I am most grateful for a swift audience with the Regent. I have come from a—”
“You’ll have your say,” Macrinus cut him off to state oddly. “For the now, come with me, be quiet, and your turn will come where you will be heard.”
It was with some surprise that Jellan abruptly found himself staring at Macrinus’s and Hera’s backs after they’d turned and prowled away, and he had to hop to in order to follow them.
If he was correct with the direction they were taking, the two lieutenants were leading him to the throne room.
An odd choice for Cassius, though it wouldn’t have been for Gallienus.
Gallienus was all about pomposity.
Jellan had thought Cassius would be far more informal.
However, as he approached, he saw the doors to the throne room were open, and he could hear some business was being discussed within.
This must be the reason why Cassius was there.
Still walking, Hera twisted to him before they arrived at the doors and ordered, “When you enter, you will remain at the back. You’ll be called forward when it’s your time to speak.”
He looked from her to the man with her who was also gazing back at him.
“Macrinus, my journey has been long and arduous. If I could—” he began to ask after refreshments, which frankly should have been offered without being asked.
But Macrinus turned away from him, disappeared into the throne room, Hera with him, leaving Jellan to enter alone, with no fanfare, no announcement of his presence, nothing.
Odd, disrespectful and peeving.
He did not know Macrinus that well, or Hera at all (she was very quiet and circumspect, unlike her fellow captain, who was bawdy and oftentimes annoying), but it had been Jellan’s impression Macrinus was always rather