Amaia's eyes stayed fixated on Rem, her voice steady but tinged with caution. "The bad news is that the elves at least the normal ones called the high elves are led by a man. An unpleasant, uptight one at that. While their females are attractive, I do not believe they would suit your tastes, my lady. But on to the good news, the leader of the dark elves is a very powerful queen who serves a spider goddess known as Lilith. This woman is as seductive as she is deadly. She is a raven-haired beauty, someone that seems to fit your aesthetics, if my magi-memory circuits are correct in recalling this aspect."
Rem froze at the first part, her shoulders sinking as though the weight of her disappointment pressed her mood down. Her expression dimmed, lips pressing into a thin pout. The image of a stiff, joyless male leader drew her into a spiral of disgust. Yet the gloom shattered when Amaia spoke the second half of her news. A raven-haired dark elf beauty. Who worships a certain spider goddess. This woman is also a Seductive and deadly beauty. Someone cruel, someone sharp, someone tailor-made for Rem Of The Remembrance by her own self. A certain thought suddenly rose in Rems mind a spider goddess named Lilith well well well.
Rem's eyes widened with a sudden fire, her earlier mood burning away. She lifted her chin and stepped closer to Amaia, her new enthusiasm breaking across her face like a spark of fire catching dry grass into a blaze. "All right, the queen of the dark elves it is, then Amaia. That is my breakthrough point."
Amaia noted the unmistakable gleam of mischief in her lady's excitement. Her circuits generated a new advisement to her about Rem's plans: silence. So she held her tongue, deciding not to tamper with Rem's sudden new joy.
When Rem did speak again, her voice carried caution. "My lady, if we are going to find the queen of the dark elves, we must first teleport to the surface of the planet below. From there we will need to descend into the underworld of Elsera. To do so, we must first teleport to the dark forest city of Darkgloom. On the way, you can build your persona of a tourist. The Arc is more than capable of creating as much of the local gold currency as you require, Lady Rem."
Rem's lips curved into a smile, her eyes moving over Amaia with approval. "Amaia, you are looking more and more pleasing to my eyes." Rem stretched her arms lazily, her white gloves pulling up tight over her elbows. "Now let's get me changed out of these clothes, and I need to take a bath and a nap as well. Centuries of beauty sleep are great for the skin, but a cat nap is even better for the mind. When I woke up in that damned coffin, it scared the shit out of me. My father Ishtar has a certain sense of humor, and I'm sure I haven't seen the last of it if he really oversaw the construction of the Arc like you said."
Amaia remained silent. She had no need to defend Ishtar's eccentricities. She knew well the reputation of the House of Remembrance: brilliant, erratic, and adored. It was their peculiarities that made them beloved by humanity. Lady Rem is not called the Daughter of Humanity because her father rules them. No Rem bears this title because the entire world adores and loves her.
Amaia straightened her posture and gestured with a tilt of her hand. "Follow me to your room, my lady. Your new clothing has already been prepared in anticipation of your awakening."
Rem's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "All of my clothing is not white, right? Let me tell you right now Amaia I'm the boss here. You said so yourself. I'm done wearing white all of the time. Get me some regular clothes, and don't even think about sneaking anything white into them. That part of my innocent life is over."
Amaia exhaled softly through her mouth, a sound close to resignation. "Yes, my lady. I will make sure the new clothing is prepared exactly as you request."
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