[A storm is brewing. Quite the literal one, in fact, as for days clouds have been gathering over the Iron Mountains, circling above the castle in a giant whirlwind, though it is impossible to tell if it is merely a reflection of the Queen's growing preoccupation with the upcoming meeting or a deliberate effort to conceal something. There are shadows, flitting inside the clouds, dark shapes that move so quickly they almost look like mere apparitions, caused by the sudden cracks of lighting inside the clouds. Whatever they may be, one thing is clear: the Lady Moriarty is not going to the meeting unprepared.
As for the queen herself, she's spending more and more of her time -- somewhere. She isn't leaving anything up to chance, not this close, and so when usually she leaves the more tedious things - such as patrolling the world - to the lesser members of her guard, the days before the meeting it is not unusual to see a black shadow cast on the desert, around the edges of Hell, along with a cold, creeping sense of death should that shadow fall on you.
Of course, she's still found in the castle, as well -- perhaps in her throne room should someone want to approach her in more official business, perhaps in her private quarters in a slightly less formal attire.]