Not long after the prince of Bohemia left with a hefty bill and a cheerful mood, the delegation from the Minicia Kingdom arrived in Tavitsky.
The envoy leading them was no ordinary figure... Princess Phyllis Stuart. The twenty-five-year-old princess had chosen to forgo a grand ceremonial escort, bringing only a few capable ladies-in-waiting and guards as she requested an audience in an almost understated manner.
With Chris stationed there permanently and the Anvil Railway Station now in place, the Anvil Fortress had all but become his royal residence.
It had therefore undergone some renovations to make it more comfortable to live in and was no longer a purely military complex.
Led by an Attendant Officer, Princess Phyllis Stuart entered the small reception room Prince Chris used for private meetings.
The moment she stepped inside, her brown, jewel-like eyes began discreetly surveying her surroundings... Every detail of this room was a clue to the young Regent's inner world.
It was utterly unlike the ubiquitous, almost overwhelming extravagance of the elaborate Baroque style she had seen at the Bohemian Court.
There was no furniture inlaid with gold and silver, no layers of heavy brocade curtains, and no magnificent ceiling murals depicting the epics of the Gods.
The room was small, even somewhat cramped. Most of its light came from a moderately sized arched window fitted with plain, thick glass. Sunlight streamed through it, casting sharply defined patches of light across the dark oak floor.
The walls were bare, smooth-polished dark gray stone, cold and hard. Only a moderately sized Double-Headed Eagle Banner hung above the fireplace.
The banner was the only object in the room with strong political symbolism. There was just that one, with no other decorations proclaiming royal authority or military glory.
The fireplace itself was built from the