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You draw yourself up with a noble sneer and continue gliding forward as one guard holds up her hand.

"Who goes there?"

"The King's Own Fool, if you please, newly installed," you say without slowing in stride. Your bile impels you forward. Of course you belong here; who would dare stop you?

Indeed, so complete is your self-possession that the soldiers take a moment to look at each other to decide what to do, and in that time you're already gone. You hear them whispering about your nature and your countenance as you proceed. Nothing wrong with having a bit of mystique swirling around you as you establish yourself here. [+Renown] You feel a fresh thrill as you leave the guards behind and climb the stairs. At the top, a pair of impassive heralds swing the massive doors for you without any challenge.

Onward