On their way to the royal palace, Sasha, Doc and Macra spotted many graffiti on the walls: 'NO MOR KINGS', 'Nothing to loose but are chanes', and a painting of a crown being smashed by a hammer. It seemed the revolutionary spirit of Brisevent had reached Farobianco already. As if in response to this alarming development, there seemed to be more guards in the streets than the last time Sasha and Doc had dropped anchor in this port. On the public square in front of the courthouse, several people were pilloried, presumably for seditious activity. There were also more bodies hanging from gibbets than usual.

It was fully night by the time they reached the palace. The royal guards at the gate eyed them suspiciously, but as soon as Macra introduced herself and provided a correct answer to the question "What is the name of the cat you took from the Cormorant?", they were allowed in. Clearly, Lady Valtier had made sure to smooth out their entry ahead of time. An aged seneschal led them to King Giuseppe's vast dining room.

King Giuseppe sat with his wife at the head of the table. The king of Farobianco was in his mid-thirties and prematurely balding, with a neatly-trimmed black beard and a whip-thin frame. His wife was quite the opposite: short and stout and blond. Almost every seat at the long table—about fifty in all—was taken. Macra recognized members from several Brisevent noble families, wearing the colors of their respective houses, and together forming the beginnings of Brisevent's government-in-exile. She could see the Gonsards, the Narvains, the Robillons, the Mérigaults, the Jarcoux, and of course the Valtiers. The latter were seated on the right hand of King Giuseppe, as befitted their station as Giuseppe's in-laws—the king's older sister Sofia had been Baron Valtier's wife, which made Elena the niece of Giuseppe, though she was just a couple of years younger than he was. In addition to Elena herself, half a dozen members of the extended Valtier family were also present, some of whom Macra only knew from paintings and the family tree. Conspicuously absent were any members of House Marvonne, Brisevent's royal family.

Lady Elena was engaged in an animated discussion with Giuseppe, ignoring the delicious-looking crawfish in yellow sauce on her plate. "...can't afford to wait for whatever distant royal heir may or may not wash up on your shore, Your Grace," she was saying. "The rebels will be consolidating their fleet and filling the rabble's heads with propaganda. Each day we delay in declaring war on the 'Republic of Brisevent' is a day it grows stronger."

"What you're proposing, Lady Elena," responded Giuseppe, "could be taken as an attempt to use the revolution to our advantage to steal the throne from under King Léon's family. I still say we should wait. Maybe try to see if the rebels are willing to ransom Léon, or at least one of his sons."

"You really think they'd be stupid enough to let him live, let alone let him go? They know they can't afford to do that. Not with the enemies of their republic looking for someone to rally around. They'd sooner—"

Elena paused as the trio approached the table.

"Oh, look at that, Your Grace!" she exclaimed. "Here's the captain who rescued us from pirates. Sasha, welcome to Farobianco! I've been telling King Giuseppe here about the bravery of your crew."

She gave Macra only a terse nod, as if to say: I'm glad to see you too, but you're not useful to me politically in this moment.