North-central Fararu, Flovce.
Like many major cities, Flovce is traversed by several rivers that first powered its growth; the Harvest River is one of them.
Flowing from south to north, the Harvest River cuts straight through Flovce, crosses the vast northern plains of Fararu, and finally reaches the sea. Before household waste began to foul its lower course, it supplied most of the city's water. Even after, only the downstream stretch truly suffered; folk who lived upstream could still ignore the problem.
On the city's southern outskirts the river bends sharply, and inside that loop sprawls a great palace complex: the royal residence of Fararu's late Bourbon Dynasty, now called the Palace of the Goddess of Beauty. It remains the kingdom's premier venue for state ceremonies.
Encircled by the Harvest River's broad loop, the palace is hosting a lavish banquet. Though the Bourbons are long gone, the cream of Fararu society still gathers here.
In daylight the palace's brown-gray walls and blue-tiled roofs glow cheerfully; every exquisite sculpture under the eaves stands out, and the gilded ridges glitter so brightly they can be seen kilometers away, proclaiming the wealth within. Guests from many nations drift through its halls.
In an open courtyard on the palace's eastern edge, brightly dressed ladies in billowing skirts gather in the old royal garden, nibbling pastries and chatting. A small fountain splashes; a trio of violinists plays in the corner, lending the scene a gentle air.
In another corner sits Adele, wearing the same pink-and-white panniered gown and tight bodice favored by Flovce ladies, a ribboned wide-brimmed hat on her head. She eats a small cake and idly surveys the scene while Dorothy's voice sounds in her mind.
'Well, Adele, why not mingle? You might pick up something useful.'
Adele licks a bit of cream from her lip and answers silently.
'Them? Hah, spare me. All they talk about is love tattle and petty nonsense. I'd rather listen to the men argue politics.'
'Oh? Politics interests you?'
'Not the details. Politics is boring too, but the stakes are high and the quarrels vicious. I enjoy watching self-important fools turn red over some policy. It's a good show.'
Adele delivers this opinion with serene detachment. Far away, seated in a carriage, Dorothy lifts an eyebrow.
'Fair point. Since you're bored, why not wander? You might find clues to the "treasures" and "stages" we're after.'
'Mm, good idea.' Adele finishes her cake, wipes her mouth, and slips quietly out of the garden.
She strolls through the rest of the royal garden: dense groves and shrubs trimmed into living sculptures that please her eye. Neat pavilions offer benches where other ladies rest.
'This garden puts Preet's royal grounds to shame—especially these topiary pieces,' she remarks silently. Then, addressing Dorothy, she asks, 'Any sign of the seven-petaled lotus? With all these levels it would make a fine stage. Could King Shal have hidden one here?'
'Not so far. According to Mr. F's riddle, each hidden stage bears the seven-petaled lotus. I've had a corpse-puppet search every angle, but nothing. I thought the topiary might form the pattern from above—wrong guess.'
'There are plenty of flowerbeds. If everything bloomed, might the pattern appear?'
'Possibly—but that won't help us for weeks. We're still in late winter.'
'True. Let's move on. The riddle speaks of three stages; we'll need to cover the whole palace.'
'Agreed.'
Dorothy assents, and together they continue the tour, seeking the hidden stage.
Leaving the garden, Adele heads east until she reaches a small river. A graceful embankment lines the banks, lamps stand in rows, and a broad stone bridge arches across, its balustrade carved with delicate statues.
This canal seems to have been specially dug when the Temple of Beauty was built, to feed the fountains and artificial lakes inside and create riverside scenery; it's quite tastefully decorated too," Dorothy remarked in Adele's mind as Adele crossed the bridge, and Adele asked curiously.
"Oh… since it's a man-made canal, could it have been cut into the shape of a seven-petaled lotus?"
"No. I've already checked from above. The canal was deliberately designed, but it doesn't form a lotus. I've also examined the banks and this bridge—no lotus motifs anywhere. Probably not here," Dorothy replied. Adele nodded and walked on.
Beyond the stone bridge Adele entered the palace precincts proper. She passed through a tall gilded gate onto a broad square. The east side faced the canal and bridge; the other three sides were lined with elegant halls roofed in gold and blue. In the centre stood a towering bronze equestrian statue. The rider, a handsome man in sumptuous robes, sat proudly in the saddle; crowds milled below.
"This is Parade Square. The statue depicts the builder of the Temple of Beauty, King Charles the Magnificent, the most capable and celebrated monarch of late Bourbon. He won many wars, seized vast colonies for Farraway, curbed the nobility and strengthened the crown—even challenged the Church and limited its privileges in Farraway."
"Charles was flamboyant and gifted. He loved display, built grand monuments, staged lavish festivals. He enjoyed performing before his people, parading in gorgeous costumes, giving speeches, even acting heroic roles on stage and dancing to show off his grace. They say both his acting and dancing were excellent."
Surveying the imposing bronze, Adele recited these facts silently, and Dorothy answered with what she knew.
"A colourful king… though critics claim his extravagance emptied the treasury, forcing his son Robert to wring money from the realm to refill it."
"That story exists, but it comes mostly from Church scholars. Everyone knows the Church and Charles were at odds; he wanted all power in Farraway to rest with him, not with the clergy."
"His defiance peaked when he staged a play about the Black Forest victory. Everyone expected him to play his ancestor, the Duke of Bourbon, but instead he cross-dressed as a forest dancer, causing an uproar."
"The dancer he portrayed not only broke gender convention but also changed the script: instead of calling herself a messenger of the Three Saints, she proclaimed, 'I am Farraway's messenger, the living goddess of life.' The clergy were furious; it sparked a diplomatic crisis."
Adele gazed at the statue, eyes gleaming, then asked Dorothy.
"Well? Any lotus mark on Parade Square?"
"No… the square is large, but there's nothing that fits," Dorothy reported through her corpse-puppets. Adele sighed.
"Then let's move on."
She crossed to the eastern end of Parade Square, where a great fountain stood.
There are many fountains in the Temple of Beauty, but this is the largest. It rises behind the bronze of King Charles and before the palace's main building, the Coloured-Dome Hall.
The fountain is circular, ringed with statues, its jets sending tall arcs of water inward to bathe the stone figures.
"This is the Fountain of Dawn. The water-work here is far more varied than in Tivian. When I build my own garden I'll hire Farraway craftsmen—for fountains… and more," Adele thought, and Dorothy answered.
"Beautiful, but still no lotus."
"Then onward we go~"
Beyond the fountain loomed a ten-metre iron portal, gate-wide, its reliefs intricate, standing open to reveal the way inside.
Within, Adele entered a vast hall paved with star-patterned marble, its edges lined by thick columns on elegant bases. Above, a dome of coloured glass scattered chaotic rainbows across the floor.
"This is the Coloured-Dome Hall, the palace's largest. It links north and south wings and the eastern avenue, and opens west onto Parade Square—the main crossroads."
"Indeed… plenty of people here," Dorothy said, scanning the crowds. Still no lotus anywhere.
Adele continued along the main axis of the Palace of Beauty, heading west into the heart of the complex. Beyond the Painted Vault Hall, a ten-meter-tall, door-less archway opened into another vast chamber.
This hall was directly connected to the Painted Vault Hall. In its center rose a large, elevated circular platform paved with tiles that stood out from their surroundings.
The patterns on these platform tiles resembled flowing water, yet each stream-like motif was confined to its own tile, stopping abruptly at the edges. The overall effect made the circular stage look jagged and disjointed.
On the platform's north, east, and south sides, tier after tier of stacked stands rose like bleachers. At least four levels of wooden railings edged the galleries, behind which lay stepped seating and private boxes reminiscent of a theater. A chandelier shaped like a colossal crystal flower hung overhead, giving the entire hall the feel of a live performance venue.
'This is the Song & Performance Hall, where plays and dances are staged for the court. That round dais is the stage—apparently Shiar himself often performs upon it,'
'This is the palace's formal venue for performances; one of the so-called'stages' could very well be here, though at first glance I see no lotus motif anywhere.'
As Adele strolled around the circular stage, a soft gleam in her eyes, she continued her silent narration for Dorothy, who replied at once.
'Judging by your expression, Adele, you look like you'd love to dance upon that stage yourself.'
'Of course. As a dancer, any noble, glittering stage is what I yearn for. Though this one is modest in size, its craftsmanship is the finest I've ever seen. If possible, I hope to give a formal public performance here in Flotz one day, dancing upon this very platform—after all, it is where my ancestors once performed.'
With that answer, Adele moved on. Leaving the Song & Performance Hall, she continued west along the palace's central axis.
Along the axis she guided Dorothy's gaze through one resplendent chamber after another, including the king's and queen's bedchambers. After nearly an hour she reached the westernmost extremity of the palace's core, a hall that stood at the very end of the line.
Inside this vast chamber, arms and armor were displayed everywhere—rows upon rows of trophies lined the perimeter. On walls and ceiling stretched immense, colorful frescoes illustrating the national epics of Fararo.
'This is the Hall of Glory, the trophy gallery of the palace, where kings boast of their martial deeds. The paintings depict every major campaign in Fararo's history; the most prominent shows the Great Victory of the Black Forest.'
Standing at the hall's center, Adele continued her commentary. Dorothy followed her gaze to the mural of the Black Forest triumph. Sunlight slanted through a skylight, illuminating a sylvan dancer's face. At first glance it seemed a beautiful woman, but closer inspection revealed an androgynous quality—bearing a seventy-percent likeness to the bejeweled portraits and statues of the monarch elsewhere in the palace.
'Hah… quite the character, this king. Pity there isn't a single lotus painted anywhere up there.'
After touring the Hall of Glory, Adele exited the main building and came to its eastern extremity. Before her stretched a vast artificial lake; small boats drifted across the water, and on the far shore she could just make out a modest chapel.
Adele walked along the clear lakeside, admiring the view with Dorothy. On one bank they even spotted several paddocks and, beside them, cottages built in a faintly rustic style. Waterwheels turned along a canal.
'This lake is called Blossom Water Lake, the largest man-made feature of the palace. That chapel yonder is the Chapel of Reverence, where courtiers attend worship. As for these… ahem… farmsteads—they were built so queens and princesses could 'experience peasant life.' Their cost could buy hundreds of real farmhouses.'
Standing by the water, Adele glanced about as she explained. Dorothy, eyeing the spotless, elegantly furnished 'cottages,' offered her own commentary.
'Seems the royal idea of 'rustic' and an actual farmer's idea of rustic are worlds apart.'
'Pretty much. Peasants don't have time to enjoy cake in their courtyards,' Adele replied. She turned toward the tranquil, dusk-lit lake and continued silently.
'Well, we've now toured the entire Palace of Beauty. So, my clever little detective, have you located those three stages?'
'About that… from what I've seen so far, though the palace is enormous, there isn't a trace of a lotus anywhere. Pinpointing the three stages is proving difficult.'
'Oh? Looks like the little detective has met her match this time,' Adele teased. Dorothy answered quietly.
'Hardly a match—I already have a faint clue, but I need to verify a few key pieces of information with someone.'
'Someone? Whom do you have in mind?' Adele asked, intrigued. Dorothy replied at once.
'Naturally, that would be… Mr. F.'