The room is large and paint is peeling, from panelled walls and alcoved ceilings. An old woman is buried in a damp chair. A warm smell of **** yellow air.
She does not turn but speaks clearly: "Americo, do you remember your blossoming power? The whole world despised it but I loved you dearly. My wanton child- Red in matricide, white in supremacy and blue here now, in your rosewood seat"
Americo laughs briskly at Britannia's slight. But they are both disturbed and chilled by the sight, of Romulus' freshly starched sheets and all his leafy golden crowns in a tied black bag beside the door.