"Phew" That was good news. At least he wasn't trying to hop in bed with her.

"Why didn't you just say that then? Nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought you were going to... never mind. Yeah, she's..."

Looking around, Luna tried to catch sight of her mother. She wasn't wearing anything particularly distinctive, just an old forest-green dress. Apparently, she wore it at some other formal occasion, a meeting with a chieftain or her coronation or something. It was plain, long, with a golden trim. It didn't look very comfortable, but Kali had insisted on wearing it, saying 'a little pain is worth a good impression.' Trouble was, she looked like she was uncomfortable, which made it seem like she didn't like formal occasions or being away from home. Even a political novice like Luna knew that didn't look good for a leader of a country.

Whilst the Empress blended with the crowd, Corvus stuck out like a sore thumb. Clearly caring little for the formality and [i]exigences esthétiques[/i] of the situation, he had flouted the 'no-weapons' rule, with a long cutting sword at his hip and two daggers across his chest, and decided the best item of clothing to wear was his armoured Inquisitor robes. Because nothing said 'classy and approachable' like a set of dark red, heavily-armoured robes emblazoned with an eye in the centre of the burning sun across the chest. Thankfully, he decided not to wear his helmet, but brought along light red greaves, boots and gauntlets to make up for it. He was right next to the Empress, which was helpful, though it would be unlikely for him to be anywhere else. He kept scanning the area, no doubt looking for threats of some description. He had one hand on his sword at all times. He probably didn't even know he was doing it - it was just instinct for him now.

"... over there. Come on, I'll take you over."

Having totally forgotten her earlier panic, she noted grabbed the Gu'Shedal by the hand and practically dragged him behind her, ignoring the strange looks she was getting.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk to us about?"
------

"Ma'am?"

"What's wrong, Corvus?"

"Those two [i]óinseach[/i] over there..."

"Corvus! Language!"

"One is claiming to be Jeffsoff Curlow of Marmon."

"Oh?"

"Ma'am, he is not a noble. He is not even high-born. He looks like a common peasant."

"How can you tell? Looks perfectly moble to me. A bit roguish, perhaps, but..."

"The way he walks. The way he wears his clothes. His accomplice. It's all a dead giveaway. He's a fraud."

"We can't prove it. Don't try anything untoward."

Pause

"Corvus! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to talk to 'King' Curlow."

"Corvus, get the [i]muca[/i] back here!"

"Excuse me, miss...."

"Corvus! Oh, gods be damned..."