One that she, as well as the rest of Princess Caoimhe's inner circle, would be thrust into in a matter of a few hours.
To say that Freya was nervous was an understatement. Regardless of the idea that peace could be reached, their Empress had been killed in Rhimodian territory years before.
Why the Imperial Princess dared to return, Freya didn't understand. There had to be more to it. Something had to be pushing Caoimhe to do this.
Especially now.
When the war was near the end.
The Terran resources were dwindling. So were the Rhimodians'. If reports were to be believed, the Rhimodians had lost a significant number of their species. They were on the verge of being eliminated altogether.
Why try for peace now?
Something was undoubtedly afoot, and it made the hairs on the back of Freya's neck stand up. There had to be a reason this came about so rapidly.
It was almost overnight, or so it seemed, Caoimhe's determination to create peace between the two.
Freya wanted answers.
How else could she best serve her princess as the Lady in Waiting if she didn't know all the information?
She continued down the darkened corridor.
A fine line existed between looking like one belonged and sneaking somewhere where one didn't belong. Freya had learned a long time ago the necessity of learning how to move unseen.
Yet tonight, even the shadows in the hall seemed to know she wasn't supposed to be there, shifting as she walked past.
Her hands trembled under her cloak, for she could be seriously reprimanded for being out past curfew.
She knew where she wanted to go--to the study, to access the mainframe.
Back in pre-space travel days, a study was considered a man's domain to run his household or some such nonsense. In the Imperial Palace, now, the room was a place for the technology to live.
And when one knew how to do it, open the systems and find out what was going on.
Freya had that skill.
One of the few skills that all the etiquette and protocol had not beaten out of her.
The walk to the study led her down several ornate hallways, draped in gold and red, the Emperor's favorite colors. Fabric draped from the ceiling in an homage to the royals of old who had such opulent taste that they had illustrated it in every way possible.
Freya hated the arrogance of it.
Yet this was her life.
The life she'd managed to secure for herself so long ago.
Voices from ahead gave her pause. She was very close to the study, but she didn't want to get discovered here in the hallway at this time of night.
She stepped into one of the tall shadows, hoping her dark brown cloak blended in well enough for the speakers to pass without noticing her.
The voices grew closer, revealing themselves to be night patrol guards. She had forgotten about them. Night guards roamed the hallways and ensured everything was protected.
No one was going to get into the Imperial Palace. It was far too secure, but the Emperor insisted on guards on patrol as well.
However, these two?
They did not seem concerned about palace security. Instead, they discussed the latest sporting event and what team they preferred. Neither looked for anything out of the ordinary.
