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The ride back to the palace was stuffy, awkward, and slow. Maisionne got the distinct impression that she could have walked faster.
"If your trying to be inconspicuous, then you shouldn't have used this carriage!" she commented dryly, trying to look out the window. One of the councilors tsk'd irritably and tugged the black curtain back into place.
"This is the drabbest carriage owned by the royal family." Maissione raised an eyebrow, but at the old man's sour look, chose wisely not to say anything.
Her three assistants had filed into the carriage and took up one whole side, beside their Master. There was plenty of room for other people to sit beside them, but all the councilors had elected to sit on the opposite side. That way, they where all squished together like fat pasty sardines, and subjected to the woman's blank doll stares.
"I hope they don't make you uncomfortable." Maissione said, a sly smile stretching her ips and narrowing her eyes. "I was all alone in that house, so I made myself some company. You understand. Being alone yourselves every night after all." The temperature in the cramped compartment easily dropped ten degrees.

"Madame. We have arrived. Please allow the servants to show you to the work shop." The councilors didn't waste anytime at all in leaving before Maissione had even a chance to rise. She slipped out, followed by her creations. The old men where already through the doors. They'd been dropped off at a little side gate leading into the inner courtyard. Even if it was supposedly the inner sanctum, the sanctuary for the royal family when they grew tired of the hustle and bustle of the commoners and the crowds, the gate way itself rose taller then two men standing on each other's shoulders.
"Such waste." Maissione muttered, as she was led by a faceless servant through the shadowy gates and into a sunny garden. Even she, with no eye for beauty aside from what ran on cogs and oil, could tell that the grounds where well kept and truely a jewel.

Not that they where given any time to enjoy it. The servant led them on, through the garden and into the palace proper. Their trip took a decided turn south, and Maissione and company trekked down stair after stair, till the warm summer air above was replaced by the frosty chill that permeated deep basements year round.
"They want me for some secret mission. So they stick me in the basement. Damn aristocrats." She muttered. They had eventually been released into a stone, window-less room that was obviously a converted dungeon. The chains had been remove from the walls, and some large work tables carted in, but there where still some interesting stains on the floor.

"I hope the workshop is to your liking, Madame?" The same tall, wide faced old man from before was back, standing in the door way and not coming any closer.
"If you where trying to send me a message, you could have been little more subtle."
"Please. if we wanted to tell you that if you screwed up in this, you'd end up a prisoner in your own workshop, we wouldn't need to end any messages, we would just come right out and say it." The old man's ugly little smile hadn't moved a twitch the entire time he'd spoken. Maissione didn't answer. He wasn't there to simply make threats.
"But we waste time on such idle chat. If you would be so kind as to follow me, we will show you what it is we want you to do." not waiting for a reply, he turned and strode down the hall, his expensive heeled shoes clacking noisily against the stones. Maissione had to run to catch up.

The two of them went back up the stairs only part of the way. Once they reached the ground floor, The old man who's name was Douglas, rapped his knuckles on a normal looking panel. It popped out and was slid aside to reveal a secret lift. Maissione's eyes lit up as she stepped in. Douglas swiftly shut the door and started them up.
"This lift is to remain secret. And you can't use it except this once." He said grouchily.

The doors slid aside again to reveal a lavishly furnished hall, a far cry from the rat hole they'd stuck her in downstairs. Maissione slipped her hands into the pockets of her skirts. She knew if she touched anything, she'd leave stubborn oil stains or dirt behind. And you never wanted to get on the bad side of the staff, no matter what the fat cats thought.
"This way." Douglas turned, paying no attention to his beautiful surroundings and hurried off down the hall. His noisy shoes where silent on the thick carpet.

Maissione followed behind, moving quickly to keep up with his long strides. The hallway was empty of anyone besides them. Not even servants rattled past.
"Where are we?" Maissione asked, although she had a pretty good idea.
"Not that you need to know, but we are in the Royal Family's private chambers. Only automatons work in this area. They all value their privacy." He stopped before a set of double doors. They where the same color as the walls surrounding them, but they where so covered in gilt that Maisionne assumed they would be heavy and difficult to move. Douglas was able to push one open with ease how ever.

He motioned for Maisionne to precede him into the room, and closed the door behind him with a sharp click. The chamber beyond was dark. The windows on the opposite wall had their shades drawn so any light coming in was diffused and made everything gloomy. A large, high four poster bed stood to the right. The long filmy drapes where pulled closed. They fluttered ethereally in the faint breeze from the door opening and closing.