As Good as Any Son

Lately, the imperial villa was a flurry of logistical upheaval. This wasn't due to anything particularly exciting in and of itself; His Majesty, in a fit of whimsicality that made the nostrils of his older and more conservative officials flare, had declared during morning court that the imperial entourage would be returning to the imperial city as he had grown tired of the life in the mountains. 

It was still summer so naturally, this decision had been met with faint protests from those members of the nobility, who were less keen on joining the less privileged suffering in the stifling capital. 

But the emperor's word was the law. And so it was that the eunuchs and the maids of the imperial villa were swept into a frenzy of packing and cleaning, just to ensure that their masters and mistresses would be on track for a timely departure and not incur the wrath of their very wayward liege.