Ardasa hummed to herself, striding down the hall on what she feels are longer legs. 

"Just you wait, little one," she said, touching the nose of the bundle in her arms. The baby cooed up at her, stretching up with his stubby arms. Ardasa smiled down at him, feeling reinvigorated by his presence. While other ladies within the court would complain about the nuisance of child rearing, she found little stress, if any, in holding her babies in her arms, of feeding them, bedding them down at night, and even in the late hours, playing with them when they woke up. This was what she felt she wanted to do. By day, she was the empress of mighty Xigyll, the city of hopes and dreams. Second only to the emperor himself, her word stretched into the halls and keeps of every general and noble in the realm. Yet, by evening, she was a mother, like any other who lived within her city. "Do you want to see dada? Yes you do! Yes you do want to see dada!" she said. The baby's smile seemed to widen at the thought.

As she entered the meeting hall, all the councilors and generals fell silent. They stood up, in near unison, and turned to face her. A voice broke the silence.

"Mama! Mama!" came the cry of a young kobold girl, as she ran from her fathers side to collide with her mother. Ardasa was experienced enough to carry her baby in one arm, and hug the older one with the other.

"Hello, Forgga," she said. "Have you been busy?"

"Very!" Forgga shouted. "We were talking about . . . econna . . . enna . . . monicee . . . s."

"How exciting!" Ardasa exclaims. "Well, I think you should listen closely. Gold is one of many things that keep our city alive and running." Forgga dashes back to her father's side, as he stands up from the head of the table.

"Well, how's the little one?" he asks, his normally grim face parting into a wan grin. Ardasa hefts the bundle up.

"I think little Alteonus wants to see his father," she says. Rughoi gingerly accepts the little kobold into his own arms, still awkward with holding a baby.

"It's been too long since Forgga was about this size," he whispers.

"Your Might, if I would return you to the matter of the finances," says a councilor.

"Urgh . . . of course," Rughoi responds, trying poorly to hide his sigh. He hands Alteonus back to his mother. "I hope I'll be done by . . . the evening. Maybe a little later. Then I want to hold him again." He pats his daughter's head gently, as she turns her head up to face him. "Come along, Forgga. There is much work to be done, especially if you are going to be empress."