In the contemporary exhibit hall, bubbling buildings, in clusters, like an urban beehive, combs piled on top of each other. The tenement rooms are peopled with grave faces, dark complected with every combination of racial feature in their face, hair, and aspect, in every room but one, the queen's hub. In that palace chamber, walls covered in paintings ala Rococo, floor to ceiling, thumbnail prints of every era. There, a white-haired black man stood beside a silver haired woman, digging a blade sharp stiletto into a man who could've been Tab.