Ishara cranes her neck out the window of her hired coach, trying to take in everything at once.

Tamor sits across from her, and refrains from rubbernecking. 

"So, Rusadhan. What's your first impression of the capitol?"

"... It's dingier than I expected. And do you have to keep calling me that?"

"Like it or not, you are a Rusadhan now. I would rather you not forget it." 

"I remember! You've only called me it a hundred times now!"

"Barely twenty. And in any case, it wouldn't do for me to call you Ishara in front of some third party. At best it would tell them I know you. At worst... Well. There is a lot of 'worst' to descend into. I would rather not give an excuse. Which is, incidentally, why you should refrain from calling Seofar's city 'dingy'."

"... I know. I'll try. But it's hard for me to stay silent when it's so obvious."

Her soul chimes softly, another fracture disappearing.

"At least your soul seems to be doing better. I wasn't expecting the damage to heal so quickly."

Ishara smiles slightly. "You know me, Tamor. Did you really expect it to take forever?"

"I still would rather you hadn't made the thing in the first place. But we aren't in that world, so we're just going to have to make do."

"Not budging on this one. It was a good idea." (Click.)

He sighs.

"You rather remind me of your mother sometimes."

"... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you."

"It's okay."

"In any case. We'll be at court soon. Remember your manners. Tekhesin Seofar."

Ishara nods.

The castle gates are huge and ornate and look like they might require magic to open and close. Currently they are open. Ceremonial guards stand to either side, there to glare the passersby away if only there were any passersby. Tekhesin Seofar's castle is not a popular tourist destination.

Inside, they are greeted by a herald, who bows very precisely and says, "Nisentiraia Rusadhan Sorvol Ishara?"

Ishara returns her own very precise bow. (Tamor is watching.) 

"Yes."

"Welcome to Tairasante. Rekhanthai Kelora has arranged a suite in the palace for you, if that is agreeable."

"Certainly."

A page is summoned to direct them to the young Rusadhan's accomodations.

The interior of the castle is a study in contrasts. Gloomy, foreboding; ostentatious, decadent. A microcosm of the city outside; if the analogy holds true, perhaps the dim and dingy sections of the castle are the parts Tekhesin Seofar never visits.

His daughter's rooms are in one of the parts without gold all over everything, and she has installed Ishara just down the hall. There is an attached room for Tamor.

Well. 

Time to settle in, she supposes. And await this mysterious Kelora.

A brief, courteous note awaits her in the message tray in her suite, inviting her to join the Rekhanthai in her quarters for an informal dinner this evening.