She found herself roaming sunlit halls. Esoteric patterns decorated both the marble beneath her feet and that which adorned the walls. She found they lacked color. Tasteless, even, though she could expect nothing less from the people here.
At the end of the hall was another path, and a door. She took the door. Inside, the room was more to her liking. More color had been painstakingly added to her tastes, almost a kaleidoscopic effect in the light of the early sun. This room, like the halls, was windowless and full of fresh, open air. Waiting for her in the middle was a table with numerous writing instruments scattered about. There were several papers and a large map with tattered edges. Edgar was pacing about the table. When she entered, he paused and offered her a short, but courteous bow.
“I’m sure you’ve seen it by now,” he waved nonchalantly towards the map. “Their plans are hardly discreet.”
Hardly discreet was certainly one way to describe the Council of Ten. Though, they certainly believed themselves otherwise. There was little they could hide from both herself and Edgar, even if Edgar often played innocent.
She came forward, giving the map a once-over. Small handcrafted figures dotted the ink landscape of Kusavah, a minor stretch of land between Fauror and a potentially rebellious nation. She found herself—a bright, prismatic figure made of glass—at the front of her army.
So, that was how they wanted it.
She looked up, noting Edgar’s haggard appearance. He was want for rest.
“Tell me what you suggest, and I will listen.” She told him.