I was surprised my eye was not twitching. 

"You look nice," Lazarus complimented, fixing my collar, despite the fact I had fixed it not a minute ago. 

"I did not realize your skills included accurate critique of apparel." I remarked, taking a deep breath as the voxx went deaf again. It seemed Emmaline was having a bit too much fun in there. I supposed I should let her enjoy herself. She had been through a lot, and honestly we had scant time for us, recently. At least I could let her act the part of a wife, if we did not have much time for being lovers. Not that I felt we were growing distant. Far from it, actually. Working together brought us even closer, but that only made our busy schedule all the more frustrating. 

"Inquisitor Kronus stipulated certain conditions before he deemed me fit for service. The appropriate camouflage for an inquisitor is to appear unremarkable, even if that very role is in and of itself, remarkable. You must look every inch the imperial lord. And might I say, you already have the handsome features and unrelenting arrogance down." 

I glared at the tech-priest, and then rolled my eyes. "How kind of you to say. But rather than fix my collar for the third time, why not allocate us some transportation?" 

The two of us stood in my newly acquired bedroom, in an immaculately furnished apartment. I knew my sizes and had Emmaline tell the courtier to send me back something presentable. For her part, my lover decided she needed a bit more time for herself while I got dressed and prepared for the celebrations. Apparently, there would be a procession in the early afternoon this very day, our arrival having coincided with what passed for early morning on Avignor.  

"Already done. It's hours away but if we had to walk the length we would already be late," Lazarus said, following by a digital beeping from somewhere on his person. "Our aircar will get us there within half an hour." 

"Excellent." I said, turning to the mirror once more and straightening my dress jacket. A knock from the door drew our attention, and with my consent to approach, the door opened. Clara, her hair in a bun and her outfit tactical military fatigues, stepped in to hold the door open for a member of the ministorum. He looked somewhat young, though likely at least a score of years my senior. Meekly he performed a short bow, and gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. 

"Hello and welcome to Avignor, I have the honor of speaking to Blasius Deckard, lord of Gudrun?" The priest said. He had green eyes, but the conical hat hid his hair. 

"You do, sir. And to whom do I attribute these greetings to?" I asked, clearing my throat. 

"I am Confessor Leibowitz, assistant to Deacon Talhouser of the western wing." He said, and I knew he meant the western wing of the central cathedral, which was the size of a continent on this most holy of planets. "I have been tasked to be at your disposal, granting you access to sites of worship and directions for your stay. Erm, I don't mean to pry, but is uh, one of these fine ladies your wife?" 

He gestured to Clara and Elektra, who stood in the central chamber behind the confessor in similar garb to Clara. He had a bewildered look when he had entered, and I had to hide a grin from the realization he had never seen a woman so muscled in his life. Clara hid her own smile as best she could, but with less success.

"No, unfortunately. My wife seems to be missing in search of a wardrobe. Perhaps we shall go and greet her ourselves?"