I should have realised that our timetable would be suitably padded at every turn. My fumbling had made us late by ten minutes for the superior footman, and therefore he had to rush me through the back corridors—where there was no possibility of accidentally meeting the Emperor in advance of our appointment, again unthinkable—so that we were on time for the Master of the Household, who in turn took me to the Imperial Secretary, for whom I was twenty minutes early. The walls were white, the drapes red, the inlays all gold leaf. Carved lions rambled over the furniture, and a huge mural on one wall depicted the Solomonic dynasty from which our Emperor drew his descent. The place echoed whenever you moved, and smelled of a modern cleaning product with a most artificial scent.