That night Mirikir tried that spell about making her bed more comfortable and slept like a baby until Wyrmill started pounding on her door, yelling about being late. Mirikir got together in record time. She stripped off her nightgown so quickly that it got tangled around her wrists and she yelped in pain. She didn't give herself any time to be in pain as she whipped on her apprentice mage suit and tore open the door, her hood drooping over one arm and her shoes on the wrong feet. She hadn't even brushed her hair.
"No time for breakfast! Let's go!" She tugged on her master's sleeve and tore down the corridor.
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As Mirikir and her master approached the gates of the castle, Miri's jaw dropped and the stared up at the towering edifice. She had only ever seen a building this huge -- the mage headquarters in Hallotu -- and it hadn't been this ornate. Dozens of towers topped with flags with the crest of the kingdom teased the sky, each made of shining white stone with a huge band of scarlet bricks at the top and blue bricks at the base where it disappeared into the castle. A interchanging grid of two rows made of blue and green stones circled the middle of each tower. Grand windows were everywhere, and gold and silver banners flapped on the towers over the arch they were passing under. On the ground green and blue bricks interchanged on an arch around the enormous arching gate that welcomed them through into a courtyard in front of the main building.
Two servants immediately raced forward to hold their horses as the two riders dismounted. Mirikir patted Stormbringer distractedly as he was lead away. Her attention was devoted to everything around her. Above the edges of the courtyard stone corridors reached across to the main castle. Every couple of yards there was a floor to ceiling window that looked out into the courtyard. Banners of gold, silver, red, blue, green, and purple hung between the windows all carrying the kingdom's crest, which was a silver dragon on a black background. More arching doorways led off from the courtyard down stone corridors that Mirikir couldn't see the end of.
Another servant rushed up to Wyrmill. He bowed deeply. "Great Mage Wyrmill, you are welcome. You and your..." he frowned at Mirikir. Miri frowned back.
"I'm his apprentice," she said firmly.
"Ah, yes, of course." The servant bowed slightly in Mirikir'r direction, then turned back to her master, his eyes shining.
"Our mighty Queen is prepared to meet you. Follow me." And the servant walked off with a flat, boring step. He didn't even glance at the two door guards and they swung the double-sided door open. Mirikir smiled at the left one. The man, you could have only been a few years older than her, ducked his head and didn't respond. Mirikir walked on, determined to befriend that man.
The servant led them through corridor after corridor, each so tall a giant could have easily fit through. Had one ever had? More windows lined the walls, and more banners and shields rotated between them. Finally the servant stopped in front of a door even taller than the gate that had welcomed them. It was intricately carved with jewels and gold outlining important things, but the doors were opened too quickly for Mirikir to really see anything.
The throne room was warm. A little strange, because the room was the largest yet, and the sunlight from the eastern facing windows didn't seem to bring any warm. But it was snuggly warm and Mirikir smiled. Then her eyes locked on the woman sitting at the far end of the room.
She was dressed all in green, every shade of green. Her dress was low-cut and had no sleeves other than a breezy, sheer scarf wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was red and fell over her shoulder, loose and glamorous for a queen. A towering headdress balanced somehow on her head, dripping with beads and green jewels that looked like more than emeralds, and topped with thick, curling spikes gently twisting toward the same point at the slight left of the top. Her dress drooped on the floor, weaved with streaks of silver and gold among the threads of every shade of green that blended together perfectly. It, too, was ornate with beads and swirls.
She leaned gracefully in her throne, obviously comfortable with being in charge and expecting it from everyone. She looked down at them from the dais under heavy eyelids. Slowly she reached out one pure white arm, extended with one flawless finger, and crooked it, her pointed nail suddenly the most obvious thing about her appearance.
"You may approach," she said in a rich voice that carried authority and a slight rasp at the end.