"They say he was looking for signs of the Stars, your grace, trying to find where they had once been. He had maps and wizards and everything to try and find them."

The Viceroy looked closely at the lieutenant for the first time. He had the look of a wax toy left too long in the sun. Everything about him drooped, from his eyes to his stance. Middle-aged, only a lieutenant, and assigned to guard duty in a backwater like Elfkyna, he was the epitome of the Empire today: soft.

The lieutenant blushed under the Viceroy's stare and continued. "You know, your grace, that old children's tale about how the Stars in the sky are really from the ground, and that one day, when a red star fell, the world would, well, end."

"The Eastern Star?" The Viceroy knew the legend, had heard the rumor about the elf's expeditions, and had thought it a case of too much sun and too little brain, but now…"The Stars are myth, points of light of no more power than that elf-witch in her forest across the sea."

The lieutenant shook his head, a not insignificant act of bravery for the man. "Oh, no, your grace, the Shadow Monarch is real. In fact, there's some who think, well, that the last Viceroy was working for Her, on account of him being an elf from over there, like Her…"

The Viceroy's eyes stared daggers, perfected from practicing the look in the mirror.

"Are you suggesting Her Majesty's representative was a traitor to the Empire?" The first rule he'd learned in the diplomatic corps was to never reveal your true thoughts to anyone. Ever.

The lieutenant stammered, so far out of his depth the pressure was making it hard to breathe. "I-I meant no disrespect, your grace! It's just that when Colonel Osveen killed him-"