He hadn't been back to Lord Mulcibar's estate since his visit, as a prisoner of the queen's court. The place looked the same from the outside, imposing in its hugeness, like a castle masquerading as a private home. Three footmen in uniform showed him to the door and ushered him inside with such deference it made him a little nervous. More servants waited inside the massive atrium. Within seconds Horace had been offered wine, fresh fruit, a hot bath, and a change of footwear. Refusing it all with as much good grace as he could summon, he asked to see the mistress of the house. He was shown into a parlor room large enough to hold the entire royal stables—only a slight exaggeration—and left alone. He strolled around the room, looking at the beautiful décor. Several of the paintings on the walls were taller than him. Each showed what he assumed were famous moments in Akeshian history, though he didn't know enough to identify them. He mentally labeled them as “serious men sitting around a long table,”
