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[Titan's where I keep my palace,] she adds.

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[Ooh, palace.]

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[You wanna see it?] she asks whimsically.

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[Sure.]

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[Put down your tea.]

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[Yes, Your Majesty,] he giggles.

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He is not actually drinking tea at all; he is tuning his guitars. Shirtless.

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She looks. A little. "Say when."

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He shrugs and stands up. "When, unless your palace has a dress code."

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"Nope." Pop! They are in the blue garden.

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"Did you figure out who it was on the album cover, by the way? I couldn't tell."

Ooh, a garden. How blue.
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"Yeah. I have boosted eyes, I pick up on that kinda thing."

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"Most people don't, or at any rate they're not sure. If you want to see an argument, all you have to do is find some Wretched fans on the internet and say, 'So was it Ripper, really?' Hilarious to watch."

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"What, you guys never told?" she laughs.

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"Of course not."

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"Because the arguments are so entertaining?"

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He grins and nods.

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"Well, now I know not to casually let it slip to the United Nations."

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Ripper cracks up.

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"Not that they'd believe you. Or people would start wondering how you knew, and then there would be a whole different argument."

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"Well, couldn't I just tell them?" she laughs. "'Ah yes, he told me himself, while admiring my magic blue plants; you see, I am the Empress of Rings and I can teleport so I don't really have a hard time introducing myself to miscellaneous musicians'?"

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"And that will stop the rumours? I hope you have PR people," he laughs.

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"I do. They are often tactfully exasperated with me. Sometimes I almost wish I had an Elspeth."

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