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A thousand ships in formation. Glittering brighter than stars against the purplish near-dusk. Pomp and ceremony to befit a royal marriage as her father used to say. And just as well, Empire loved its displays.

Stray thoughts tugged at her. Drawing attention down to the Plebenaria far below. Home. Pulling her attention in concert up towards the displayed and assembled might of Empire.

It made her aware of her smallness. Aware of the dizzying heights upon which she now stood, and of the infinite heights beyond. One point, less than mote in the eye of Empire, which itself is but a molecule of a mote within that of Creation.

Such a view in such a place as many would and had killed and died for it. In the Auspicious Summer Gardens atop Palace itself. Standing in view of the Viceroy himself no less. Honour wreathed her head like new vines upon that of Springtime herself.

Yet honours that sat hollow in her stomach. And weighed there like a stone.

"Is it not marvellous," Viceregal heir Janus Augusta smiled openly at her. Being that it was his wedding for which the grand display was put on, she forced the disquiet from her mind.

"Yes, sire. It is truly magnificent."

"Is not your Duke late, Lady Igraine? Rare is the time when he can be pried away from your arm."

"He is detained by business but will arrive in time for the ceremony."

"Time his arrival to coincide with Empire? Perhaps he means to evade the madness by arriving in the ebb current before It crashes down upon us."

Good-natured would be the word to best describe the youth. Kindness is a rare trait in the powerful, but he had it in spades. Though she was certain his father had ensured Janus's tutors saw to that in his education. As well as ensuring that the Viceregal heir would be able to comport his natural goodness with a razor's precision.

Nobility carrying with it the cost of even basic humanity needing to be honed to a deadly edge.

She agreed with the young man, and the conversation wandered, in time with their own course around the garden, in slow amiability until a girlhood dream came true. The Viceregal her fled her consciousness as colour and sound exploded across the sky.

Enormous flowers of gold and blue and green sparkled to life over a delighted populace and drew one rebellious tear. In rippling, flowing time-lapse, the flowers seemed to grow in the sky.

Lasting barely five minutes, the simple display drew lusty cheers from the esteemed guests. And to the certain knowledge of one on that roof, those cheers would be echoed across the whole planet.

Janus politely allowed his guest to enjoy the spectacle in private. Enjoying, through occasional and hidden glances, her raptured expression, he waited patiently for the wonder to pass.

"Forgive me," she said, voice gone from something bold to something small. "I have... well, ever since I was a little girl I looked forward to seeing those whenever Empire would choose to display. And I dreamed of one day watching such a display from here."

"Not atop my palace, sure," it was said with an easy smile.

"Any would have done, my lord. But it is an honour to be here for this one."

Looking away, he said something both courteous and innocuous as to be almost entirely forgotten in a moment. But she had regained composure lost to childhood delights and caught this polite deflection.

"Your grace will, I hope, not think my target a flippant flattery. I mean what I said, in my life I have seen many of these displays on viewers, even a view from this angle," she indicated a retreating camera drone. "I have never been at the eye of the show before, sire. Never truly felt it the way the artist intended."

She bowed, hoping to have avoided any insult, but aware of the hole she might well be digging. "I spoke of it being an honour to stand here and observe it because it is the eye of that creation. To have sat in a peasant's hovel, for me, might have been as glorious a thing."

"It may interest you to know, Lady Igraine, that part of the Viceregal training is to detect lies. We pride ourselves on our skill at it, though I imagine so do many often fooled. I believe you, and," here he bowed, "I am glad that you were here tonight to witness it."

"Many thanks, your grace. For the invitation that I might see this wonder, and the company provided as I did. Certainly, my Duke would have been here, had we known the grand display was to be tonight."

"Ah, it is not. Your expectations will, I hope, be met by the main event during my wedding reception."

Bubbling from deep down, the unease drew her eyes towards the constellation of Empire. And called her memories back to the sewer many of her peers thought her to have crawled out of. There was something in it. A sight desired by billions, crafted by the finest of Empire's artisans, discoloured.

"Lady Igraine, you appear unwell."

"Sorry, my lord. I... Do you ever have the sense of looking at something perfect and feeling a flaw you cannot name?"

To her surprise, the young man nodded sagely. His open smile smoothly shifting into a serious slash, and the festive sparkle faded from his eyes. Leaning closer, he asked a string of quick, soft questions before nodding and turning away.

Hand on hip, he stood and stared up into the gathering full night and watched as the stars slowly emerged among the false galaxy of ships. She knew she had not been dismissed, rather that the youth was examining the focus of her attention and seeking a point of connection.

Using his free hand, he started to count slowly, muttering in the Viceregal Family Sociolect. Indecipherable to outsiders, it sounded mostly like long strings of lyrical rhyming nonsense. Lady Igraine always told her Duke that she rather enjoyed hearing the Viceregal Family talk in their invented language; it reminded her of dancing music.

For some reason he always smiled at that, as if he knew a secret she did not. A fact which often made her smile at him. Secrets were his stock and trade, and some must be kept even from her. But there were times when she might stumble upon the truth, and on those occasions, he would tell as much.

It all required a great deal of trust. But what else could there be without sound reason?

Standing here and watching the Viceregal her himself ponder his inexplicable disquiet over the view of the armada overhead. Despite her education to the contrary and her experience teaching her to be wary of any person in court, she had told him as well of the split attention. Of her focus and draw likewise towards the Plebenaria.

History is a difficult thing to hide for any person. The Viceroy's Court existed for the preservation of only the Viceroy's secrets, and the exposure of all others. And for the sake of some, others must be abandoned. Over-concern for the plebes might well draw attention to a past she was eager to hide.

Naturally, the whole court knew of her origins. Such a thing was not entirely uncommon, but a few whispers had flown from lip to ear about whether it was proper for her to be there at all. Let alone without her Duke.

"Perhaps it is the quantity of them," Janus Augusta, Viceregal heir of her home and technical liege lord to her Duke, spoke softly and did not turn back to look at her. "I admit, it is something I've often considered. Tomorrow night will be far from my first observation of Empire's display. However,..."

Looking back now, half-turned so as to regard her over his shoulder, he continued, "I fear I no better understand your disquiet than you do, my lady. Certainly, the assembled might of Empire is an awe-inspiring sight, and I ask with utmost respect, might it not be related to your lack of exposure?"

Polite words can still cut. And blunted swords break bones if wielded indelicately. Janus's words did cut, though not half so deep as they might once have done - and though his edge was indeed blunted, it was wielded with care.

"I have thought about it, lord. But the feeling is not one that I can recall, even in my first application to the Verdigris House. It was grand and so much beauty, wealth, and power in one space... discomposed me. But I say again that this not the same."

"And have you seen such wonders as might equate to what you felt on that day at the House?"

"I have, lord. Many times, in many places, and through the different eyes of the many women I've been between there and here. But this sensation, the divided and distracted attention, is nothing akin to it."

She turned from him, hearing a slight gasp from courtiers who watched the progress of her conversation with envy. To turn her back on a member of the Peerage like that, showing emotion reflective of intimate friendship, was unthinkable. Yet not, in its way, uncalculated.

He could not have avoided noticing the familiarity and marking it for what it was. Though, it carried every appearance of the honest reaction it was.

The turn brought her around to face domed pinacle of the palace itself. A thing that felt huge and powerful in its intricate decorations. A worked thing as alien to this world as the ships in their hundreds overhead. A symbol of power frozen in marble and steel and glass.

Beyond its beauty, it had a wholeness. A sense of completeness which added its incessant tugging to her mind. One more piece of the puzzle assembled to upmost perfection that stuck in assembly. Despite fitting perfectly.

"Perhaps it is not the display that should be capturing my thoughts, lord. And I am sorry to have burdened you with them," thankfulness for the Viceregal family's chronic paranoia flooded through her. Gleaming on the young man's chest was a null field that deadened any sound's escape from the ears of its target alone.

"Might I, though, ask you to lend me your ear on another thought of mine, one that I think far more relevant?"

"Assuredly."

If your grace would please come and stand where I direct."

Following, a soft smile playing about his lips as though he were remembering a long-cherished memory, he said, "If I had not already been so invested in this conversation, Lady Igraine, this would spark that interest. Were this not my wedding celebrations, and did I not know your Duke half so well, I might question your intentions."

Blunted swords need not only shatter limbs. They can leave bruises as well.

"Lord, with the highest degree of respect to yourself and your station, we chose our patrons. And I would not have chosen you."

"Well-deserved. Though still I admit surprise at how deeply that stung."

"Shall I tell your grace a woman's secret in exchange for his attention to my petty diversion?"

"Need I answer," his eyebrow had cocked skyward. "Short of joining you in a crusade, or leaving this garden, I am sure I'll follow where you lead."

"Very gentlemanly," she responded playfulness to playfulness. "Then I shall. Such a thing always stings, my lord. No matter who you are, or from whom the rejection, it stings each time though the severity is widely diverse."

"Might I ask a personal question, then?"

Rather than respond, she placed the Viceregal heir on the spot where she had first experienced the sense of smallness. Actually touching him was, of course, a step too far even in her current state of over-familiarity. But still she stood close and pointed.

"Tell me, sire, what do you see?"

"Empire's navy in all its multi-coloured glory, and below that, the Plebenaria... my lady, if this is about the sanitation difficulties among the serfs in south-central-"

"Your grace, my Duke receives advisors from that project. Please believe that I shall not be the one to bring Plebian matters to your attention lest they directly threaten House Igraine."

"But of course. You were asking? I fear that I am not seeing the connection here, perhaps it is the lights?" tilting his head, he muttered that they almost aligned if looked at from that angle. "Though... wait a moment..."

Grimly, a smile crept across his lips, and he turned to regard his guest with naked and open appraisal. Again, one eyebrow rose, and his lips pursed slightly, clearly considering her in an almost academic way. She was personally acquainted with how men looked at her in admiration, or to consider her 'better features,' and Janus's observation could be called nothing more than that.

Understanding how a parcel feels when passed through the postal-safety scanners, she stood and waited for a long, slow moment. Though the youth's eyes had strayed from her head to feet and back once at the beginning of this examination, after they had never moved from her face.

"I understand what you were feeling," he said at length. "And what you might still be feeling."

Not knowing what else to do, she bowed her head. That expression, so unlike anything else before seen on his face, had scared her.

"One price of dominion is constant threats, including those innocuous enough to come across as friendship. No, do not speak, I will not be interrupted. What you have demonstrated and explained to me, the creeping dread lingering in the back of this," he waved gently at the tableau surrounding them, "is something we feel at all times."

Looking up, "Lord?"

"I had to decide the intent behind reminding of the greatness of Empire. Of the insignificance of one man, one throne, one vice-regency from a dead kingdom against Empire. Such is not beyond the scope of their assaults.

"But no. I know what you feel here and yes understand me it is something with which I and my forebears back to ascension have understood. Here at the pinnacle of the greatest mountain there is to climb, we are yet in the shadow of still greater and more terrible things. Sandwiched between them and slowly ground to dust."

Unable to speak, she curtseyed deeply and bowed her head. Paranoia among the Peerage runs deep as veins of critical ores. And so, it can be shaped and molded to suit any needs to attain objectives. Running through their veins, it crept from the shadows and into their thoughts, white blood cells for trust.

"Now, in exchange for your secret and the friendship shared on the night before my wedding," he extended his hand to her, "allow me to share a secret in return."

Taking his hand, she rose to her feet in wonder. Feeling no small amount of savage satisfaction at the expression of courtiers at the spectacle. Such gallantry would be much spoken of; he gave her a gift still greater than any secret he would share in equal value to her own.

"On Ancient Earth, a scholar marveled at the Zhōngguk Emperor who faced a peasant rebellion in one of his provinces. In response, the emperor sent a portion of his army, one million men, to address the uprising. You may not marvel at such a number, but human kind was limited only to Ancient Earth. And had not the technology to achieve even one hundredth of the population you now boast in your Duke's realms.

"And that is what you feel here. What you see above you and below you. Like all who have sat a throne in competence, and all who take time to learn the scale of their world, you now feel the weight above and the mass below.

"Now, I must be away. There are other guests who are, I'm sure you know, rather jealous people." He bowed slightly lower than was strictly formal, and added, "I do still wish to ask my more personal questions. I believe, based on your awareness displayed this evening, we have much to discuss. Tea after the honeymoon?"

Agreeing without knowledge, she stared again at the assembled might of Empire, and completely missed the flashing smile Janus left her with. The same, open, genuine smile as before without guarding. A thousand ships in formation. Glittering brighter than stars against the purplish near-dusk. Pomp and ceremony to befit a royal marriage as her father used to say.

Stray thoughts tugged at her. Drawing attention down to the Plebenaria far below. Home. Pulling her attention in concert up towards the displayed and assembled might of Empire.

Thousands if not more would have killed and died for a chance to stand where she stood. Millions to see even the show that had, despite its shattering of her expectations, not even be the main event. An evening spent in the Auspicious Summer Gardens and in conversation with Janus Augusta himself.

Honours wreathed her head like thorns on a martyr's crown. Pricking her mind with a thousand stinging thoughts like needles. To a small peasant uprising, he sent a small portion of his army: one million, at a time when Ancient Earth itself numbered hardly one billion.

Looking up again at the assembled might of Empire, she could call to mind only two related facts. First that one thousand ships glittered overhead. And second, that this display was pure ceremony. One thousand ships of the line, for a show.

The most perfect view of it had been where she stood. The most enviable location in the fashionable galaxy that night.

It made her feel so very small.