The constructs body was made from gold, porcelain, and brass. It's elegant figure reflected the sunlight that bathed the room through the long stained-glass window. It was tall, standing at a little over 6 feet. It had long, slim arms and legs, and generally androgynous features. It's face was a mask of delicate factions, thick lips, and two empy eyes, dark and cold. It looked more like a puppet than one of the Count's usual constructs. The Duchess of Ambers did not look impressed. She walked around it, her guards (two monks from the Sun-Blinded Order) shadowing her every step. The Count of Cogs, meanwhile, looked from a few steps away at the men, a satisfied grin on his face. Finally, the Duchess spoke.

"What exactly am I looking at here, Count?" Her voice was stern "Is it supposed to dance or something?"

The Count chuckled "Something like that", he answered cryptically.

"I thought we had moved past these kinds of trivialities, Count. The clockwork birds were amusing at first, but I did not make you nobility for them."

Her tone almost made it sound like that was a threat. The Count didn't mind. For anyone else, toying with the Duchess was practically a death sentence. The Count of Cogs knew, however, that he had a form of practical inmunity. No one could do what he did. A Count of Mud could be replaced. So could all of the others, whose only task seemed to be to administer, collect, and most of all, spend, Clathermont's wealth. The Count of Cogs, however, was irreplaceable. It's what had elevated him from a lowly worker for the Count of Coal and Copper, to what he was today. Nobody had is gift for magic. And it was the Lesser Suns, his magnum opus, that had gained him the title of Count, the first to have been added to the charter in over two hundred years. And, much to his satisfaction, he had managed to outdo himself.

"It does much more than dance, your majesty." He turned to his assistant and nodded. The boy, a kid no older than 14, nodded back and ran off to the workshop. The Duchess raised an eyebrow, and it took a couple of awkward seconds before the boy returned with something in his hands.

"Thank you, Bernard. You are dismissed". The count picked up the small object between his fingers. It looked like a gyroscope, or a sort of astrological diagram, with many concentric circles surrounding a small, shining floating orb no bigger than the tip of a finger. The brass rings around it reflected the light on the alchemical circles etched onto them. The Count theatrically held it in front of the Duchess and her honor guard. Bernard hurried out of the room

The Duchess eyes went bright with understanding.

"You have made a smaller Pseudo-sun."

"But just as powerful as the ones powering the Count of Iron's toys." The Count of Cogs declared, satisfied. The Duchess seemed pleased.

"Fantastic, your highness" She praised. "You certainly do not disappoint. I figure Iron will try to work this into a smaller cannon as soon as he gets word of it. I,however, fail to see what this has to do with this marionette of yours. I suppose this is meant to power it?"

Now was the moment for the real show. The Count ceremonously walked towards the porcelain-and-brass automaton. He drew a small tool from his pocket, something akin to a very tiny screwdriver, and with a swift motion, opened the machines chest cavity, exposing a maw of cogs, sigils, and levers. He toyed with it for a second and finally, the Pseudo-sun was in place, it's bright core staring out from the darkness of the automaton.

"Now if her Majesty would bless it with a name, please" He gestured towards the machine.

The Duchess seemed confused. One of her guards seemed...disgusted? The Duchess hesitated and finally, stated solemnly

"I name thee Adam."

The Pseudo Sun in the machin'es chest started spinning. The machines chest closed, and its dead eyes came to life. They shined with golden light, and the machine looked around. It's porcelain mask made it incapable of expression, but it looked at the Duchess like a deer that just spotted a hunter. The Count cleared his throat.

"Adam, please introduce yourself to the Duchess, and bow to her. She is your ruler, and you are to follow her every command."

It was as if an innate instinct had awoken in the automaton. It bowed in perfect, delicate movements, and lifted it's head only to say in a cavernous voice, originating from deep within it's machinery.

"My name is Adam. I aim to serve Her Majesty." Upon saying that, it returned to it's starting, stiff upright position.

The Duchess stood there, baffled. The Honor guard of priests looked in terror. Finally, the Radiant Ruler of Clathermont smiled. It was a satisfied smile. A predatory smile. A dangerous smile. She clapped slowly.

"You have certainly outdone yourself, Roland." She stated. The use of the Count of Cogs burnt name carried an incredible weight, and the one of her Honor guards' jaw dropped, bewildered. Counts did not have names. Was her Majesty implying that this man was above the old ways? Was he worthy of keeping a name while in presence of the Sun-Lord? The Count seemed to be aware of what had just happened. He smirked, satisfied with himself. He bowed.

"I, much like Adam here, aim to please, your Majesty."

"You have made life" finally one of the Sun-Blinded priests spoke "Your Majesty, only the Sun makes life. This is dangerously bordering heresy now. I beg you, your Majesty, do not go down this path."

"Brother of the Order, please remind me, who am I?" the Duchess' brown eyes seemed to shine like the automatons, full of sun-fire and rage.

"I am sorry, your Majesty I-"

"Am I not the right hand of the Sun? Do I not speak in his name? Am I not the symbol of his divine rule on earth and the sole executor of his will?"

"I understand your majesty, it's just, other Duchesses'-" The other priest gave his companion a pleading look. He had implied there had been other Duchesses before. He would pay with his life.

"There are no others! I am Her Enduring Majesty, remember? I have ruled Clathermont for hundred of years, under many different faces, but there is only one. And you, Brother of the Order, seemed to have been too blinded by the sun to understand his will. My will." She turned to the Count, who now fidgeted nervously with his fingers, seemingly terrified of this new development.

"You. I know what you can show me now" The Duchesses' voice boomed. She turned to the other priest. "Your gun. Now."

"Your Majesty, I don't think this is really nece-" the Count tried to intervene.

"Silence. The Dawn is here, and I will not stand for obstacles in it's way." The terrified priest had fallen to his knees at the feet of the Duchess' dress. His Brother in the Order drew his pistol out of the holster. It was an elegant piece, details in wood and gold, and capable of carrying six shots in the cartridge. He handed it over to the Duchess by the grip. She, in turn, extended it towards the automaton.

"Your Majesty, please, not in my home. He was just- He- You must understand" The Count pleaded fruitlessly

"Adam, shoot the man at my feet."

The automaton gripped the gun, and with mechanical motions, made sure it was loaded. The loud snap of a gushot rang through the palace. Adam extended the gun towards the Duchess by the grip, the same vacant mask on it's face.

"You can keep it. In fact-" she turned to the Count of Cogs. "Equip them with holsters. I want more of these."

The Count, who had closed his eyes and looked down as to not see the body, looked up and stated, afer clearing his throat in an attempt to disguise the quivering."H-how many more, your Majesty?"

"How many can you make?" she said, sardonically

The Count nodded.

"Look at me, Roland"

The Count took a deep breath. He looked her in the eye.

"Do they tire?"

"No."

"Do they breathe?"

"No."

"Do they eat, do they drink?"

"No."

"Can they work?"

"I'm currently working on prototypes m-made for rougher uses like mining or agriculture."

"Excellent. Work faster. I am keeping this one." She approached him and placed a tender hand on his face. "You haven't disappointed me so far, Count of Cogs. Do not start now. I can give you so much more than just a county, if you don't fail me." She turned around, her honor guard following on her steps. Adam, the automaton, also followed, with delicate footsteps and carrying the gun as if it no longer knew what to do with it.

Once they'd left, the Count collapsed onto a velvet chair, and hid his face in his hands. He looked out of the window, and saw the sun setting in the distance. He turned to the ceiling, were a Pseudo-Sun spun and whirred, providing energy for his palace, and for a brief second, wondered which of the two suns could be more cruel.