204 Calculated Insult

The decadence of Apollonia, the capital of Rome, eclipsed anything Queen Mab had fabricated. Ornate columns of gold were strategically placed, a theme of lavish wealth that lined the streets, with buildings continuing the idiocy. Real gold burnished and polished to reflect the sun was the only construction material I could identify. Buildings were built to impress using wealth, instead of artistry and architecture.

Rome was a principality of the Goddess Persephone, I wasn't certain if she could lay claim to other planets; she was strong after all, but the Greek Gods were prolific, so chances were this was her only world. Even at that, I was certain that only the powerful Gods were entitled to claim a planet.

The city, on the other hand, had been dedicated to Apollo, Olympus' Sun God, and the buildings had been constructed to reflect his domain. The city glimmered, refracting the sun rays, much like a scintillating jewel. The glare of sunlight so intense as to be blinding. It made no architectural or practical sense to build as they had. Gold was too soft a metal to stand the test of time. But practical had not been the point, gold served the purpose Caesar had intended, it showcased Olympus, and by proxy, his wealth and power.

Apollonia was a grandiose and an obscene waste of resources.

The amount of gold that had to be mined or collected from dungeon dives to create buildings of solid gold was staggering. And this was just one city. A higher tiered city, certainly, but compared to what would be found on Olympus itself, a poor caricature of what was possible.

"Princess Wynne?" a young man dressed in a toga and sandals asked as he approached me and my group. The young man's dress was typical for the Olympians. Toga's, sandals, and for those highly leveled a civic crown made of oak leaves, proof that they had reached a level that entitled them the ability to rule. There were also crowns of grape and olive leaves, but those civics were worn and claimed by merchants and professionals.

We had yet to leave the Portal Station; instead, we had been shuffled off into a side room, granted one that had an expansive view of the city, and that was probably the point. I understood that making us wait was intended as a slight and insult, but whoever had orchestrated this insult wanted to make sure we had a view of the city, that we understood just how powerful and wealthy Olympus was.

The wait was meaningless for us; we were Sidhe. People that could live forever tended to give little weight to the passage of time, especially something as insignificant as hours or days.

The young man that had attracted my attention had a token attached as a broach to the shoulder of his toga, a token that signified he was one of Hermes' messengers. The young man had made use of the badge in a practical manner, it was pinned to the shoulder of his toga holding the folds of clothing in place. I expanded my perception to identify who and what he was. I knew it was rude, but no ruder than making us wait hours for his arrival.

[Name: Janus]

[Race: Satyr]

[Class: Messenger]

[Faction: Hermes]

[Level: 71]

The System only supplied surface information, I could have increased my perception to discover more information, including what his stats, skills, and spells were, but I didn't bother. Even this little information had coincided with what King Teigh had shared with me. Olympians used a Class system instead of Rank, and levels didn't reset each time they reached a certain milestone.

A level 71 messenger was probably comparable to a Ranked: Commoner level 7. That level suggested he was as young as he appeared. Satyrs had the same immortality that the Sidhe had. He could potentially live forever, if he weren't killed in battle or assassinated, so trying to establish a person's age could be difficult.

King Teigh had mentioned that at certain milestones, every 100 levels, the Olympians were able to upgrade Classes. They weren't locked in a position that was selected for them when young. A class-change quest that was available, often not without cost, was all that was needed.

The class change did not come without a major drawback, skills, and spells that you had been relying on, and improving over what could have been decades, might not be of much use once you selected a different class and path. If you were lucky enough to retain those skills and spells at all.

"I am Princess Ailis Wynne," I finally said deigning to recognize him. He had begun to fidget, uncertain how to proceed if my party and I ignored him. I had already decided to foster an image of petulance and disdain. It wouldn't be hard to convince anyone after all the rumors and innuendos that had been spread about me and my activities.

"Caesar Augustus has tasked me as your escort. If you would follow, I would be pleased to show you to the Palace, Your Highness," he said, ignoring all the obsequiousness that Teigh had been trying to eliminate on Talahm.

That may have been commendable if we were on Talahm. But his actions had been orchestrated, he had been coached, and the insult was blatant. No bow, no genuflection, just a few words explaining his presence. It was a calculated disrespect, an indignity to our race, and my Rank.

I wasn't sure I liked knowing Caesar understood our psychology well enough to engage in such a subtle insult. From my fellow Sidhe, this greeting would be appropriate, we had all suffered under the oppression, but Olympus ignoring the protocols that should have been afforded my position as the head of this delegation was premeditated. Not to mention when greeting a Princess of the Tuatha de Danaan, this lack of respect could only be interpreted as one more slight that the Sidhe were expected to endure.

But times had changed, someone should have mentioned those changes to Caesar, and my name, as well as my reputation, were well known. Olympus was familiar with my attempts to discover exactly who had killed my daughter, and they had made every effort to hide that name from me, as well as King Teigh. He chose to insult a woman that had been blatant about her quest for answers and vengeance.

He was a fool.

I was ostensibly banished here, included in an exchange of people and ideas, but that didn't mean I had to play nice or ignore every insult. And Caesar had given me an opportunity, I had every intention of displaying the qualities the Sidhe were well known for, and that included our belief in our superiority and strict adherence to protocols. I would take the gift that he offered and return it with one of my own.

"Lord Aesin," I said making my disdain for the young man obvious, "it seems the niceties and privileges that are owed a Ranked: Princess is not something one should expect on such a backwater planet. I would have thought an appropriate ceremony, welcoming us, would have been discussed?

"Were you and my staff so lax in discussing what would be appropriate when a visiting Sidhe royal was willing to participate in this exchange of national ideas?" I sneered, my works an obvious implication that Caesar was too stupid to understand how visiting dignitaries should be greeted.

"No, Your Highness," he replied taking his cue from my words and bowing deeply. "Olympus signed agreements-in-kind that outlined what was expected, including appropriate respect for cultural Ranks. Lodgings, privacy, acceptable escorts, and guards were also discussed, although I see none of the honor guards that was agreed upon.

"So, either Caesar or those he had trusted have wantonly ignored those agreements, and have decided to insult King Teigh by treating those tasked with this exchange in such a contemptuous manner," he continued to explain.

His words were perfect, exactly what I had been hoping for. The right mix of accusations with enough wiggle room for the Olympians to find an excuse and rectify this slight. They were also effective, as Janus began to panic, his eyes flickering back and forth between us as we discussed his presence as well as Caesar's actions.

I felt a twinge of guilt for the young man; he had been sent to beard the lion unarmed and unaware. He had neither the power nor the authority to respond to our words. But my guilt was ignored because what was even more galling was that the Portal Authority, the person that monitored and ran this facility was standing just outside the door.

Gloating.

I knew that we would have issues; the Olympians had treated Talahm and her people as third-planet nationals for too long not for those policies to have become endemic. Fortunately, the Twelve and Teigh had considered this and gave me direction.

I would play the part of the spoiled, entitled Princess, and enjoy myself in the process. Aesin had agreed that it would serve as an effective disguise to obscure my real intent while allowing him and his people to act.