Now I was here, valiantly doing my best to stay on my feet as the inn continued to consume the faux silk inch by inch.
“Well. This is quite a development.”
I turned to see Caldenia standing in the doorway. “Your Grace.”
The older woman slowly stepped into the ballroom. Her gaze slid over the marble floor, the columns, and the soaring white ceiling with golden flourishes.
“What’s the occasion?”
“We’re hosting a diplomatic summit.”
She turned on her foot and looked at me, her eyes sharp. “My dear, don’t tease me.”
“This roll of faux silk cost me six dollars per yard,” I told her. “Once I purchase food, I will be destitute.”
Caldenia blinked. “Who are the attending parties?”
“The Holy Anocracy, represented by House Krahr; the Hope-Crushing Horde; and the Merchants of Baha-char. They are coming here for the arbitration, and they will probably try to murder each other the moment they walk through the door.”
Caldenia’s eyes widened. “Do you really think so? This is absolutely marvelous!”
She would think so, wouldn’t she?
“Tell me the plan.”
I sighed and pointed at the eastern wall. I had formed a balcony along the east, west, and south sides of the room. Each balcony terminated far from its neighbors, too far for any of the species to clear in a jump and too high to safely jump down from.
“The otrokars’ rooms will be up there. They give prayers to sunrise, so they require a view of the morning sun.”
I turned and pointed at the opposite wall. “The vampires go there. Their time of reflection begins as sunset ends, so they’re in the west.”
I pointed at the North wall. “The Merchants will reside there. They’re a forest species and prefer shady rooms and muted light. Everyone has their separate stairwell. Nobody can enter quarters other than their own. The inn won’t permit it.”
I pointed to the south, where long windows sliced the wall into sections. “I’m going to put a table there for the leaders to conduct their negotiations.”
“That’s a well-planned layout,” Caldenia said. “But why pink marble?” She waved at the ceiling. “Pink marble, white ceiling, golden accents… With the electric lighting, it will turn into this ghastly orange.”
“I had one chance to impress the Arbitrator, and I had to improvise.”
Caldenia arched one eyebrow.
“I saw it in a movie once,” I explained. “It was easy to visualize.”
“Was it a movie for adults?”
“It had a talking candelabra who was friends with a grumpy clock.”
“I see. What about a ballroom from your parents’ inn?”
I shook my head. I remembered it in excruciating detail, but when I thought about recreating it, my heart squeezed itself into a painful clump. I sighed. “I can make it completely white if you would prefer.”
Caldenia’s eyes narrowed. “So the color can be altered?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, not white. White is the safest of choices. Also, as memory serves, House Krahr builds their castles with gray stone, and you don’t want to show favoritism.”
“Otrokars favor vibrant colors and ornate decoration,” I said. “They tend toward reds and greens.”
“So we must strike a balance between the two. Blue is a soothing color most species find conducive to contemplation. Why don’t we try turquoise?”
I concentrated. The marble columns obligingly changed hue.
“A little more gray. A little darker. Little more… Now, can we put lighter streaks through them? Can you fleck it with gold… Perfect.”
I had to admit the columns did look beautiful.
“Let’s take down the gold leaf,” Caldenia said. “Elegance is never ostentatious, and there is nothing more bourgeois than covering everything in gold. It screams that one has too much money and too little taste, and it infuriates peasants. A palace should convey a sense of power and grandeur. One should enter and be awestruck. I’ve found the awe tends to cut down on revolts.”
I seriously doubted I’d face any revolts, but if it cut down on the slaughter I would be quite happy.
“Gold has its uses, but always in moderation,” Caldenia continued. “Did I ever tell you about Cai Pa? It’s a water world. The entire planet is an ocean, and the population lives on giant artificial floating islands. It’s amazing how many people you can stuff into a few square miles. Each of them is ruled by a noble grown rich on pharmaceutical trade and underwater mining. Space is at a premium, so of course the fools build elaborate palaces. I had cause to attend a meeting in one of those monstrosities. They have these underwater algae forests, quite beautiful, actually, if you are into that sort of thing. The entirety of the palace walls was covered in algae cast in gold. There was not a single clear spot on the walls or the ceiling that didn’t have some sort of flourish or a flower in gold or some other garish color like scarlet. And between the algae there were portraits of the host and his family with jewels instead of eyes.”
“Jewels?”
Caldenia paused and looked at me. “Jewels, Dina. It looked ghastly. After ten minutes in the place, I felt like my eyes were under assault by an interstellar dreadnought. It was making me physically ill.”
“Some people simply live to prove to others that they have more.”
“Indeed. I lasted a single day, and when I departed, the host had the audacity to claim I had insulted his family. I would’ve poisoned the lot, but I couldn’t stand to be in the building for another moment.”
Her Grace raised her arms. “This is your ballroom, dear. Your space. The heart of your small palace. The sky is the limit, as they say. Abandon conventions. Forget the palaces of your world. Forget your parents’ inn or any other inn. Use your imagination and make it your own. Make it glorious.”
The sky is the limit… I closed my eyes and opened my mind. The inn shifted around me, its magic responding. My power flowed from me, and I let it expand and grow, unfurl like a flower.
“Dina…,” Caldenia murmured next to me, her voice stunned.
I opened my eyes. Gone was the pink marble, the gold leaf, and the crystal chandeliers. Only three windows, all in the north wall, remained. A glorious night sky spread across the dark walls and the ceiling, endless and beautiful, the light patina of lavender, green, and blue forming gossamer nebulae dotted with tiny flecks of stars. It was the kind of sky that called space pirates to their ships. Long vines spiraled around the turquoise columns that supported the balconies, and delicate glass flowers glowed with white and yellow. The floor was polished white marble, inlaid with a rich mosaic in a dozen shades from black and indigo to an electric blue and gold, stretching to the center where a stylized image of Gertrude Hunt decorated the floor, circled by a depiction of my broom.
I looked up. Above it all three enormous light fixtures came on, each a complex constellation of glowing orbs bathing the room in bright light. I smiled.
“Now that is what I call awe,” Caldenia quietly said next to me.
The magic chimed in my head. I opened my eyes. Ten past midnight. A little early for the summit, which was supposed to start tomorrow evening.