“Must you keep those windows open even now?” Scaramouche hisses in your direction as he sits coddled in his a size too big coat. The fireplace was running a low fire, but you did like your office breezy. Sitting next to him, you spread on the couch, looking over your skirmishers’ most recent reports.

Days spent in the Zapolyarny palace were nothing but boring- the Tsaritsa had no pressing missions for her Harbingers other than fetching the gnoses. Scaramouche spent a little too much time in your office- in his words, only you could he tolerate out of his Harbinger colleagues.

“What do you think the Tsaritsa’s planning, huh?” He asks, his voice muffled into the fur coat, as he leans over you to pry into the files you were reading. “All those gnoses, you’d say she’s trying to summon the Heavenly Principles on her own.”