My trip to Emer’Thalis had been eventful, if brief. Day by day, it seemed that the city was growing to be less and less of a small outpost, and more and more into a real settlement. Whether it would ever prove to be home, it was hard to say, but knowing I had somewhere to go if everything blew up in Sylum was comforting at the very least.

After a few quick goodbyes, I activated my recall gem, and back to Sylum I went. One uneventful teleport later, I was back in the room Suds had first interrogated me in, and from there I walked through the rest of the house, intent on making my arrival known.

Scarcely had I shouted a single “I’m back!”, however, when a frantic Markus came rushing through the hallways towards me. Before I could even eke out a hello, he gripped me by the shoulders, shaking me.

“You didn’t mention you were acquainted with the Lady Verin’Sylus. Why is this not something you mentioned?” Despite the reproach in his tone, the look he gave me was more pleading than anything else, as if begging me to tell him he had the wrong information.

“Um. Surprise?” I’d talked through some of the events from the ball with Markus, but apparently in all the chaos with Warram, my quick encounter with Verin had gotten omitted. “Is that… is that a big deal? We’re just acquaintances, I’d say.” I mean, it wasn’t like this was some princess tucked away in a secret castle. She was one of my classmates after all.

Markus let go of me, apparently needing his hands to knead at his temples and pull at his hair. He let out a string of curses interspersed with some comments about “there being two of them now,” and how “one Suds was already more than enough.” I followed enough to resent the comparison.

“Well, it would appear that your acquaintance -- who happens to be the closest thing to a bona fide princess that our city has -- was under the impression that you’d be home over the break. She had an invitation delivered to our home and is expecting your presence later today.”

He went off on a tangent for a while, muttering about how he now regretted convincing Suds that giving me a communication amulet wouldn’t be worth the cost, and how he’d come this close to making Suds go fetch me.

“Sounds like she scheduled our art gallery trip!” I had agreed to that over the break, hadn’t I? Or rather, Verin had sort of just said it would happen, and I hadn’t said anything to contradict her. “Nice. Good thing I came back a few days early.” It would have been majorly awkward if I’d come back only to find out I’d somehow stood her up, though I didn’t understand why Markus couldn’t have just tried rescheduling.

Somehow, the fact that I was present and ready to meet up with Verin notwithstanding, my words only caused a further wave of dread to wash through the majordomo.

“You’re going to… an art gallery?” He intoned it with the same inflection one would use on finding out their child was being sent off to war, and I had to pause to make sure I was correctly remembering what an art gallery was.

“Um. Yes? Look, we’re just going to chat and look at art. I feel like I can manage that.” I’d gone to plenty of museums and a handful of galleries back on Earth. They weren’t exactly high-stakes, stressful situations. Going with a super-noble ratcheted up the intensity a bit, but one of my closest friends was already a princess. The whole “royalty” thing had lost some of the daunting factor by now.

My confidence didn’t seem to assure the butler, who let out a pained groan. “You do understand that the Lady Verin likely has -- for her age -- more levels in Etiquette than any other citizen in the entire city, yes? I hastily crammed enough levels into you for a single ball, not, of all things, an art gallery with her.”

I shrugged. Verin struck me as a bit icy, but it wasn’t like she’d thrown Alara out for missing a few social cues. She didn’t strike me as the type to suddenly hate me if I didn’t know which way to tilt my head when looking at some sculpture.

This, apparently, was not the response Markus was looking for.

“Come. We still have some time. Let’s see if we can salvage this mess.” Thus said, he dragged me off for one of my least favorite activities. Etiquette lessons.

Etiquette has increased to level 6!

Several hours later and primed on various do’s and do-not’s of the art scene, it was time to go. Markus quickly helped me pick my attire (a muted gray dress, so as not to clash with or pull attention from the exhibits), and after making me swear on no fewer than three occasions that I would not start an accidental chamber war with the nobility, I was allowed out.

One loop ride later, and after a short jaunt from the outer city into the inner city, I found myself back in the Nobility District. The guards at the inner city gate were particularly fussy about making sure I had a valid reason for entering -- apparently the Nobility District was a bit more strict about who was allowed to enter -- but after showing them the invitation, I was waved through without an issue. The ostentatious architecture and copper-plated roads greeted me instantly, and even having been in mansions and palaces, it was an effort not to gawk.

I was to meet Verin at the gallery in question, which obviously I hadn’t been to before, but God’s Mind came in handy here. Markus had pulled up a map before I’d left, and I found it blissfully easy to remember all the directions. In no time at all, I was there. I ended up being a bit early by design, as apparently it wouldn’t be fitting to have Verin waiting on me for too long.

As perhaps to be expected of an art gallery, the building itself was showy. In this case, it was an inverted pyramid of sorts, made up of three square sections, stacked atop one another. Each section dwarfed the last, with the final hanging over me with such little support, I was confident magic had to be involved.

Tearing my attention from the building, one thing I’d noticed was that the roads here were wider than their outer-city counterparts. The reason for this soon became evident as I caught sight of a carriage headed my way. To the best of my knowledge, there was a loop which ran through the inner city, so why one would need a carriage was a bit beyond me, but then again, I wasn’t a noble.

It pulled up right in front of me, and after the coachman came to the side to open the door, out stepped the Lady Verin’Sylus.

“Lady Astorius. I’m pleased you were able to join me. I look forward to our outing.” Evidently having heeded the same advice Markus had given to me, she wore a muted gray dress of her own, making it look as though we’d chosen to match. With her atypical white hair and my atypical -- for Sylum at least -- auburn hair, alongside our abnormally pale skin, I imagined we’d still “draw attention from the exhibits.” It was, as I understood, the thought that counted though.

She held out a hand, seeming to request some help in descending from her carriage, and I obliged. “Same to you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen art with mana in it, outside of the statue at the ball. I’m kind of excited, honestly.” It wasn’t a lie, either. What I was about to see was an entire field of art that was impossible back on Earth. What was the point of getting zapped to a fantasy world if not things like this?

She nodded. “Having only recently passed the threshold myself, I imagine this will be a largely novel experience for myself as well. It will be pleasant to have someone with whom to share the experience.”

Pleasantries out of the way, we made our way into the gallery.

We walked from room to room, and I noted that, while a smattering of other people flitted from exhibit to exhibit, we were largely alone. Either the gallery wasn’t overly popular, or we’d come at an odd time.

More curiously, though, even after flaring mana to my eyes to activate Mana Sight, I saw absolutely nothing with a hint of mana in it. Perhaps noticing the confused frown on my face, Verin explained.

“The bottom floor is entirely for mundane art. It is generally reserved for the very best of the newer names. Those who have yet to learn the necessary skills to imbue their art with mana, but who are expected to one day do so. Most, if not all, the artists whose work ends up here will gain significant patronage. The competition is intense.”

Huh. So a floor for the newbies. Or I guess, the kind-of newbies. It was clear from just one look at the art around me that they’d trained a good bit.

I walked over to what appeared to be a model replica of Sylum under a glass dome, rendered in excruciating detail. A small plaque stood in front.

A Model of Sylum by T. Fenners.

It has been verified that the artist in question used absolutely no skills in the creation of this piece, making it a testament to the power of raw Perception and Dexterity. The dome is fitted with a simple magnification enchantment, and can be tapped to enlarge any section at will.

“Wait, this is so cool,” I blurted out. I spent a moment looking for the small handful of landmarks I knew, starting with the archmage’s tower and moving to Suds’ house. Even under magnification, the buildings were flawless. Had I been told it was some sort of spell giving us a real, bird’s eye view of the city, I would have believed it.

“Your home, yes?” Verin joined me, pulling up a magnified image of her own house, and I felt myself choke as I saw just how much of the district it took up. “Curious. The artist must have spent some years on this. They’ve depicted the Sylus mansion before the most recent additions. How nostalgic.”

She turned her attention to the rest of the pentagonal city, seeming to spend the bulk of her time on the outer city. “This is most informative, truly. I don’t believe I’ve seen much of your district, in all honesty. My main exposure to the outer city would be the trips I take to classes in the Knowledge District. The difference is somewhat stark, is it not?”

I failed to hold back a laugh at this, startling my companion and probably showing off my lack of etiquette. “I think that’s putting it lightly. It always feels like I’m entering a different dimension when I walk from the outer city to the inner.” On second thought, thinking back to the scrutiny I’d faced on entering the district, a new question came to mind. “Do the people who belong to the Chamber of the Commons get to come to a place like this?”

Verin furrowed her brows at this, as if the thought had never crossed her mind. “Curious. I cannot say that I know. I suppose not, given its location. You will have to ask your grandfather what artistic pursuits may be found within your district.”

We left the table behind and continued our journey through the bottom floor, passing models and pottery and…

“Verin, is it just me, or are there a lot of nudes here? Like. A lot, a lot.” Nude paintings, some frighteningly realistic, some more abstract. Nude sculptures. The variety here was much greater than the Greek variety back home -- dozens of different rock types had been used, sometimes multiple for a single piece. The emphasis seemed to be more towards tricking the viewer into thinking the sculpture was soft, or even alive, though. It was a far cry from the literally and figuratively chiseled look I was more accustomed to.

Still, the fact remained. There were lots and lots of nudes.

“Of course. Some art strives to tell a story, but much of it strives towards depicting beauty, does it not? And what greater beauty does humanity know than in the forms of one another? I dare say that many of my own drawings have been of such a focus, though I will admit I’ve created nothing worthy of being showcased here.” Evidently not one for prudery, Verin spent some time studying the aforementioned sculptures.

“You draw? And, uh, do a lot of naked drawings?” It was hardly anything scandalous -- I’d seen ads back home to be a nude model for painting classes -- but somehow I hadn’t pictured her as the type to draw such things.

“As is only natural,” she replied. “It is only proper for a noble lady of my station to be well instructed in the fields of literature, poetry, music, art, and more. Part of that involves a healthy amount of time spent studying the human form. It is, in fact, viewed as a great sign of friendship for two nobles to sketch one another in such a fashion.” Far from being bashful about such a thing, she fixed me with a look of concern. “Has your education been lacking in such a manner? We can attempt to remedy this should you so desire.”

We can- What? With- What? There was something to be said for “new world, new Tess,” but I felt my face heating up despite myself.

“That is to say, there are many models who pose for such things who could assist you as you learned to draw,” she amended. “I imagine you would be quite popular in that arena as well. A high Charisma and a very different look to you. Perhaps something to consider.” She said it with all the ease and candor of one commenting on the weather, and I found myself speechless in return.

Aren’t the nobility supposed to be prudes and, like, obsessed with virginity or something? I’d never been a huge fantasy or even historical fiction buff, but I was pretty sure that’s how this was supposed to go down.

Then again… the noble healthcare here is probably phenomenal. Perhaps things would have been a bit… looser back home if you could cast a spell and be free of any, uh, diseases. Presumably there was some form of magical birth control as well -- one that probably didn’t inject you full of hormones that made you go crazy.

If you lived in a society where people could have sex with a 100% guarantee of not having unexpected kids or catching anything? I could perhaps see why stances on nudity might be a little more “out there,” so to speak. I had, if I recalled, gotten an invitation from one of the nobles I’d danced with at the ball to an event that sounded suspiciously like a sex party. Somehow I’d thought the woman in question was more of a deviant than the norm, though.

More than eager to be done with the conversation, I scrambled for a different topic to switch to. “You know, maybe we should check out the second floor, shouldn’t we?”

Verin grew pensive for a moment before answering with a nod. “Of course. The other floors are what we came for, after all.”