She followed Murphy up the steps.
The Guards saluted in unison, their movements perfectly synchronized, silent and powerful.
The moment she stepped through the great doors, her surroundings changed once again.
The hall was extremely high and spacious. Massive stone pillars supported a vaulted ceiling, and huge military maps and faded family banners hung on the walls.
Several bronze chandeliers, holding hundreds of candles, illuminated the interior as brightly as day.
The air was filled with the scents of parchment, ink, beeswax, and a hint of spice.
Many people moved about, but everything was orderly. Some, dressed in crisp officer uniforms with medals pinned to their chests, hurried by holding scrolls and conversing in low voices.
Secretaries sat behind long tables lining the walls, the scratching of their quills on paper a constant, soft rustle.
Others, possibly aides, wore clean linen robes and were gathered around sand tables or maps, pointing and discussing.
