She felt the rumble of the engine through her feet more than she heard it. A deep primordial thrum, echoing not only through the floor but across the frame. She closed her eyes, to listen to it, feel it. Like a heartbeat, the heartbeat. Even mechanical creatures, as wrought by human hands, had one such pulse. She had just started to see and was learning to understand the colored swirls, the energy flowing through her when the road dipped suddenly, one of the wheels of the car bumping sharply into a growing pothole and jolting a loud cough from the retainer across the back seat from her.
After he’d cleared his throat of inhaling spit, he noted weakly, “I should alert the transportation department to a meeting about that. I doubt it’s the only one...”
Her brow furrowed after re-centering herself from such shock, resuming a calm stiff-backed composure as the the car wound its way off what was essentially her long and winding driveway from the house into Paleugmeddi proper. The jagged terrain replaced with that in the bowl dug to accommodate the sprawling metropolis, loam and dirt and basalt peaks giving way to rising towers and ancient wooden structures built centuries before to withstand the winds and weather.
“We should get a survey together to find all of them and test the area. Make sure it is not a costly problem to fix.”
The retainer chuckled a little, watching the people and buildings outside the car zip passed. “It’s going to be costly, regardless of survey. Something to do with the loam shifting and moving retaining walls, if I remember. We’ll be at the Parliamentary State Building in a few minutes.”
Here, she unleashed an exasperated sigh, though said nothing until the sleek black car had pulled in front of the building. The engine stopped, ticking its way into silence as both chauffeurs exited and opened the back doors, one at the streetside, one at the building side.
Zhemyna exited street, as per usual, standing straight up and simultaneously dusting and pressing her clothing, the retainer emerging from the opposite side. As soon as they met again and made their way to the building in question, the considerably taller nation made something of a disgruntled noise.
"Why must they insist on doing it here. They have a perfectly decent governmental center in Koenigsberg that we have been using for centuries to debate this constant 'agreement'...." she muttered under her breath, receiving a jovial tone from the retainer's throat in amusement.
"Perhaps they got sick and tired of looking at the only thing they're allowed to have and wanted a change of scenery to something they could never have."
For a second, she scrutinized him, watching as he crossed his arms behind his back importantly, a smug smirk on his face as they entered the domed parliamentary building.
"....That is an absolutely devilish way to look at it. But I love it so much."
The click of footsteps practically in time with one another echoed high above in the main foyer’s high domed ceiling as they made their way back toward the council chamber.
“Still. I wish they would have kept it to routine. The drive would have helped me prepare myself mentally.” Another mutter, perhaps a little worried.
The retainer only offered her another small laugh, patting her upper left arm affectionately. “I’m sure you’ll be okay. As soon as you walk through those doors, you will fall back into routine and it’ll be over. You’ll be up on the hill again before you know it. Now.” He stopped right in front of the chamber doors. “I have some roadwork to assign, if you’ll please excuse me.”
“Certainly, Marcal. Do your duties as only you can. I will see you later.”
A bow of heads in a friendly farewell was shared before she turned and entered the chamber with quiet steps. Already, parliament had papers strewn across the desk on the dais, whispering quietly over them until she entered, striding down the stairs in the seating area with long confident strides. If she could fool them, she could fool herself and anyone else.
“I see you are nervous, my dear. No need to be.”
Barca was the one to speak up, his grandfatherly voice simultaneously soothing and causing her to frizz at being discovered. He added on, “It’s nothing but routine, no matter where we choose to host it. Please sit here in the front row; your presence in this room is a necessity and appreciated.”
She nodded without speaking, moving to the seats indicated at the direct side of the dais with small bobs of her head toward the other councilmen in greeting, taking a seat nearest the dais and compulsively smoothing her skirt around her knees. It looked like she was here early, which was a relief and without surprise, seeing as how she lived on the hill above the city. It would give her a chance to try and ground herself beforehand. After all, dealing with South was .....tiring, for lack of a better word.
