There were guards everywhere outside of the Emperor’s private office, but once the doors were closed, there were no humans anywhere to be seen. Of course, given the amount of protections that Kordas could see with mage-sight, the Emperor didn’t need human guards in here after the doors were locked. There was a Gate in the wall to the left, the Dolls could come and go and bring him whatever he needed, and the magical protections around him would ensure no physical harm could come to him.

All of those protection spells seemed to be emanating from a single object in the room. Which also made sense, given the decades—centuries!—the High Kings, and then the Emperors, had been sitting on the Conquest Throne.

But that object was not, as Kordas had thought, the Wolf Crown. No, it was the heavy gold-and-iron carcanet that the Emperor wore. And that made sense, too. The spells had been forged into the gold—but the iron would by itself deflect any counter-spells. However much of a fool the current Emperor was, his predecessors had been shrewd indeed.

In addition, there was a protective barrier between the desk and where they were standing. That came from the desk itself. Anyone who tried rushing the Emperor by going over that desk would just bounce right off it.

He and Merrin stood side by side in the Imperial Office’s receiving area, as the Emperor pretended to read something. This, of course, was another demonstration of his power. Another petty demonstration. And Kordas knew that he would keep them standing there until he started to get bored. Only then would he get on with the business that brought them here—making official Kordas’s demotion, and Merrin’s promotion. There was nothing on that desk except a little gold statue of himself, a pen, and the two sets of documents.

Fortunately, the Emperor had a short attention span.

He finally looked up. Kordas made certain he was wearing a fatuous grin. Merrin was sober, his hands resting on the grip of his Spitter.

“Well, there you are. Heh. Heh. Heh.” The Emperor’s nasty little smile was back, and he looked more like a toad with hair than ever. “I have your new patents of nobility right here,” he said, and made that “heh-heh” sound again, which was nothing like a laugh. “I trust you will make something noteworthy from your new land, Merrin.”

Merrin made an inarticulate little sound as the Emperor’s seal-ring came down on each document, burning the certifying sigil in.