The Golden Entourage
The Clathermontisse caravan had spared no expenses to display the prosperity of the new Empire. It was, after all, the first time in nearly two centuries that Her Everlasting Majesty had set foot in the lands of the Sun-Setters.
It was also the first time in two centuries that they had even had the need to. After all, what use was risking the Duchess of Ambers, the voice of the Sun himself, in a land of barbarians? Times where changing. The light of civilization in a barbarian continent, the Duchess had once said. If the people of Pythia were able to find the light of the Sun Lord, then perhaps the Sunless lands weren't as sunless as she had been led to believe. Times where, indeed, changing, and the Duchess was determined to change with them. It was, after all, according to her own addresses to her people, an inevitability that the Sun Lords light reach all of Sparkalia. The start of a new dawn.
She wasn't blind to reality, either. The Khijovians had arrived in Ilus some time ago. And while she held them in a high enough regard to consider them civilized among the barbarians, it was an eye opening moment. Clathermont could not keep the dark away for much longer, and if they held on to this childish belief, sooner or later, the world would come knocking and Clathermont would not be ready. It was time for Clathermont to bring the light to the world, before the world brought its own darkness to Clathermont.
Her palanquin swayed softly on the top of the elephant-sized Hercules beetle that carried it. A magnificent beast, hand picked from the stables in Solar dei Condes. It's amber caparace had been polished to shine with the sun, and the banner of the Sun Lord had been tied between it's pincers. The palenquin itself had been adorned in purple silk and carved out of the finest Bloodwood trees in thee Côte Rouge. The deep brownish red wood had been carved with the face of the sun to adorn the tip of the palanquin's dome. Every piece of her entourage had been selected for the occasion by herself.
In the past, the Duchess of Amber's entourage had been given a name: Leure procesion d'or, The Golden Procession. In front of the Palenquin, acolytes of the sun blinded order held censers, with thick clouds of a blood red aromatic smoke coming from them. Shortly behind them, another acolyte would disperse yellow petals from the flameflower for the entourage to step on every once in a while. Even the acolytes, despite their low rank in the order, had been dressed in the finest orange and yellow silks.
She had selected her companions with care as well. Riding next to her, if only a little behind, an old woman, her face covered by a veil, but her age evidenced by the wrinkles on her hands took in the views of the Pythian forests. She had never left Ilus, in her almost 90 years of life. If one had peered beneath the veil of the fragile old woman one would have seen a form of childlike wonder. Her palanquin, unlike the Duchesse's, was not covered in silks, but was more of a platform, also carved out of Bloodwood, sawying softly on the back of an iridescently green christmas beetle the size of an ox. The Matriarch of Lives, the closest thing the Duchess had ever had to a mother.
The second choice for companion had been a harder one. She had considered her usual choices: the Countess of Ink and Lacre was too diplomatic. The Count of Irons was too... sadistic, for such an occasion. The Count of Cogs would've brought along his children, the automata, and the Duchess doubted the Japuileans would've taken kindly to that. No, instead, riding to her other side in a similar specimen of beetle as the Matriarch, was someone more apt for a festive occasion: The Count of Indulgence. He had provided the cup bearers, who carried amphoras of wine adorned with paintings of bacchanalias around the caravan, making sure that Her Majesty and His Highness were well supplied. The Matriarch did not indulge in the sweet Star Wine.
The rest of the entourage was, as one would expect, security. Full brothers of the Sun Blinded Order rode along in the finest specimens of Sabrechaud Morgans the Empire could muster. While the sabrechaud morgan was a horse designed for fast combat in the desert's of the Sabrechaud region, and not so much for the forests of Pythia, they had performed optimally so far, and had been selected more for their beauty than their utility. The Brothers would wear the ceremonial armors of their order: the golden brass chestplate, emblazoned with the Sun, the golden smiling masks, and their helmets adorned with a peacock feather. Alongside, the Tamaz spearthrowers wore their light scaled leather armor, and bags of steel tipped djerids in their saddles. The Tamaz people of Sabrechaud usually trained with shooting rifles from their horses in modern times, but the old arts of spear throwing hadn't been forgotten.
As the entourage arrived, the Duchess could not help but smile at the quaintness of Japuile's music. One of the brothers of the Sun Blinded order descended from his horse as the caravan came to a halt, and helped the Duchess down from her palanquin, as the flower bearer made sure the ground she stepped on had the appropiate amount of petals. The Duchess dismissed him with a handwave. She approached the Grand Duke, and as he bowed, she removed the golden gauntlet of her armor and hovered her hand over his head. A blessing.
The Duchesses armor was armor only in the vaguest sense of the word. Adorned at the arms with purple silks, the armor shined with the sun. Gold. The armor was covered in sacred scripts in the Clathermontisse Oldertongue, all religious hymns and chants, imbued in magicka: Avert your eyes, had been decreed. Magic script made sure that it was hard to look at Her Everlasting Majesty for too long.
"It is indeed an honor, Grand Duke Casamir. And a meeting a long time coming, I believe." The Duchess spoke softly, parsimonously, with the voice of one who has never rushed in their life. "It had been a long time since I had been to Pythia. Centuries, I believe. I simply had to see it with my own eyes that the light of our Lord had finally reached the sunless lands."
