Night came at last, and having dismissed her secretaries, scribes and
tire-women the weary girl, now clad in simple white, sat in her chamber
alone. She thought of all the splendours through which she had passed;
she thought of the glories of her imperial state, of the power that she
wielded, and of the proud future which stretched before her feet.
But most of all she thought of the face of the young Count Rames, the
playmate of her childhood, the man she loved, and wondered, ah! how she
wondered, if with all her power she could ever draw him to her side.
If not, of what use was this rule over millions, this dominion of her
world? They called her a goddess, and in truth, at times, she believed
that she was half-divine, but if so, why did her heart ache like that of
any common maid?

Moreover, was she really set above the misfortunes of her race? Could
a throne, however bright with gold, lift her above the sorrows of human
kind? She desired to learn the truth, the very truth. Her mind was
urgent, it drove her on to search out things to come, to stand face to
face with them, even if they were evil. Well, she believed she had the
strength, although, as yet, she had never called it to her aid.

Also this thing could not be done alone. Tua thought a while, then going
to the door of her chamber she bade a woman who waited without summon to
her the Lady Asti, priestess of Amen, Interpreter of Heaven. Presently
Asti came, for now, as always, she was in attendance upon the
new-crowned queen, a tall and noble-looking woman with fine-cut features
and black hair, that although she was fifty years of age, still showed
no trace of grey.