She needs a plan.
Her message is already written. It has been for a few days. She's just trying to think of something to do to prevent the disaster from last time. She can't afford to fumble around without direction while the Empress controls the pace of the meeting. She's a ruler, it's simply not safe to give up control like that.
(That and she doesn't want to risk any of the servants, or gods forbid the council, seeing her and assuming she's not competent. The council will shut this down as soon as they see the chance.)
A small demonstration from the guards, a proper tour of the ballrooms and the statue garden (which she has educated herself on now) as well as the nearby Royal Coral Gardens sounds like a good start to her.
The main debate she's having is if she should be organizing more entertainment. Would the Empress appreciate a play? Seeing a race? Or maybe she's interested in more education? Would she enjoy a tour of some distinctly Atlantean industries? Or perhaps she'd prefer something less energetic such as light conversation in a sitting room? Music maybe? Socializing with other Atlantean nobles?
She's never had to play host to a foreign dignitary, much less a human one, much less one whose preferences she isn't aware of. This would be so much simpler if she did not have a personal rapport with the Empress already.
"A political host should not need to ask preferences. It's a failure of our diplomatic abilities if we need ask the head of state herself." Gura frowns to herself. The problem is that she doesn't have a line to a proper diplomat, she can only contact the Empress. There is no middle step. That's… sort of an issue, because asking for a diplomat at this point would be just about as rude as she could possibly get, even if she states her purpose. "Do I just have to guess?"
If there's one thing a commander hates, it's unknown variables, and unfortunately politics is full of them. At least in a battle you tend to know who is on your side, but with politics someone can be both an ally and an enemy in the same stroke. She needs to endear herself to the Empire while avoiding any tricks or tests they send her way. Politics is not about trust, it's about shrewd calculation; and Gura is no fan of that.
Still, as Queen, it's a part she's forced to play.
She opts for the less exciting angle, partially because they still need to discuss business. The Empress reacted well to conversation before, so she opts for planning to make her personal sitting room presentable for guests.
(The sitting room in question is designed for the royal family; though lacking any of her own it's more of a glorified second office or impromptu meeting room.)
As for the business in question, she makes a proper list of discussion points so she can't fumble as badly as last time. She cannot afford to get caught off guard and allow the Empress to dictate all topics. She must anticipate possible questions and requests, and prepare responses lest she seem like an irresponsible ruler.
She also ensures to prepare a much smaller meal this time. As much as she doesn't mind feeding the takos, it gives Atlantis a somewhat bad look if they are unable to portion properly.
(Unless humans have different standards? Wait, she didn't think this through.)
It's times like these she wishes she could delegate, but it's customary for the King to handle preparations for guests himself, and as reigning monarch that duty is expected of her as well.
"Waaah." The messenger tako babbles, poking at the letter she's written for the Empress sitting next to her.
"I know, I know." Gura mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I just need a decent plan. Something passable at least. I need to make sure your Empress isn't disappointed, tako."
The tako huffs. "Wah."
"Look, I know you don't- Hey! Put that down!" Gura hisses, trying to grab the letter out of the tako's mouth, but missing as it casually swims out of reach.
"Wuh."
"You can't take it yet!"
The tako casually twirls away from another grab attempt.
"I- look, I'm just trying to do right by your Empress, so-"
The tako curls in on itself; squishing down to a tiny pin point before vanishing, taking the letter along with it.
Gura stares dumbly for a few seconds, then sinks back into her chair with a groan. "Why me?"
Then, she realizes something worse.
"That was the rough draft, with all the things I crossed out."
The sound of her head hitting the table has a servant running in, concerned, and she spends the rest of the day with a light ache in her forehead.