Sweep in Peace

I would’ve loved nothing more than to join her, except not on the floor but in my nice soft bed. Opening the ballroom drained me. I felt like I had run several miles, but the time line for the peace summit was tight. The Arbiter wanted to get started within forty eight hours, which meant that instead of taking a nap, I stole one of Caldenia’s Mello Yello cans to stay awake, jumped into my car and drove through the rain to rent a truck. I drove the truck to Austin to the largest regional fabric distributor. There I bought the enormous roll of faux silk and another of cotton. That cost me a third of my emergency fund. Next I stopped at a stone and landscaping place and purchased bulk stone. They helped me load it and when I came back, I dumped it in the back yard, where the inn promptly ate it.

The inn continued to consume the faux silk inch by inch. I valiantly did my best to stay on my feet.

“Well. This is quite a development.”

I turned to see Caldenia standing in the doorway. “Your Grace.”

The older woman slowly stepped into the ballroom. Her gaze slid over the marble floor, columns, and the soaring white ceiling with golden flourishes on it.

“What’s the occasion?”

“We’re hosting a diplomatic summit.”

She turned on her foot and looked at me, her eyes sharp. “My dear, don’t tease me.”

“This roll of faux silk cost me six dollars per yard,” I told her. “Once I purchase food, I will be destitute.

Caldenia blinked. “Who are the attending parties?”

“The Holy Anocracy represented by House Krahr, the Hope-crushing Horde, and the Merchants of Baha-char. They coming here for Arbitration and they will probably try to murder each other the moment they walk through the door.”

Caldenia’s eyes widened. “Do you really think so? This is absolutely marvelous!”

She would think so, wouldn’t she?

“Tell me the plan.”

I sighed and pointed at the eastern wall. I had formed a balcony along the east, west, and south sides of the room. Each balcony terminated too far from its neighbors and was too high to jump from. At least too high in human terms.

“The otrokar rooms will be up there. They give prayers to sunrise, so they require a view of the morning sun.” I turned and pointed at the opposite wall. “The vampires go there. Their time of reflection begins as sunset ends, so they are in the west.” I pointed at the south wall. “The merchants will reside there. They are a forest species and prefer shady rooms and muted light. Everyone has their separate stairwell. Nobody can enter each other’s quarters. The inn won’t permit it.” I pointed under the north wall, where long windows sliced the wall into sections. “I’m going to put a table there for the leaders to conduct their negotiations.”

“That’s a well-thought out layout,” Caldenia said. “But why pink marble?” She waved at the ceiling. “Pink marble, white ceiling, golden accents… With the electric lighting it will turn into this ghastly orange.”

“I had one chance to impress the Arbiter and I had to improvise.”

Caldenia arched one eyebrow.

“I saw it in a movie once,” I explained. “It was easy to visualize.”

“Was it a movie for adults?”

“It had a talking candelabra who was friends with a grumpy clock.”

“I see. What about a ballroom from your parents’ inn?”

I shook my head. I remembered it in excruciating detail, but when I thought about recreating it, my heart squeezed itself into a painful clump. I sighed. “I can make it completely white, if you would prefer.”

Caldenia’s eyes narrowed. “So the color can be altered?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, not white. White is the safest of choices. Also is memory serves, House Krahr builds their castles with grey stone and you don’t want to show favoritism.”

“Otrokar favor vibrant colors and ornate decoration,” I said. “They tend toward reds and yellows.”

“So we must strike a balance between the two. Blue is a soothing color most species find conductive to contemplation. Why don’t we try turquoise?”

I concentrated. The marble columns turned a deep turquoise.

“A little more grey. A little darker. Little more… Now can we put lighter streaks through them. Can you fleck it with gold… Perfect.”

I had to admit, the columns did look beautiful.

“Let’s take down the gold leaf,” Caldenia instructed. “Elegance is never ostentatious, and there is nothing more bourgeois than covering everything in gold. It screams that one has too much money and too little taste and it infuriates peasants. A palace should convey a sense of power and grandeur. One should enter and be awestruck. I found the awe tends to cut down on revolts.”

I seriously doubt I’d face any revolts, but if it cut down on the slaughter, I would be quite happy.

“Gold has its uses but always in moderation,” Caldenia continued. “Did I ever tell you about the Cai Pa? It’s a water world. The entire planet is an ocean and the population lives on giant artificial floating islands. It’s amazing how many people you can stuff into a few square miles. Each of these is ruled by a noble grown rich on pharmaceutical trade and underwater mining. Space is at a premium, so of course, the fools build elaborate palaces. I had a cause to attend a meeting in one of those monstrosities. They have these underwater algae forests, quite beautiful, actually, if you are into that sort of thing. The entirety of the palace walls was covered in algae cast in gold. There was not a single clear spot on the walls or the ceiling that didn’t have some sort of flourish or a flower in gold or some other garish color like scarlet. And between the algae there were portraits of the host and his family with jewels instead of eyes.”