The Emperor's Daughter

by H M Angues

  No one in the history of the Renalds has had three abilities. But as the wind swirls and blows at my simple command, I know that I am the first. Fireblood. Terra. Aero.

  Fire. Earth. Air.

  A secret I plan to keep to myself for just a little while longer.

  ∞∞∞

  Funeral day.

  I stand at the edge of the Capital City, its gleaming skyscrapers towering above me. Clouds cover the sun and I smell rain in the air, as if Eterra herself is mourning my brother.

  As leader of the procession, and as representation of my position, I’m adorned in solid black armor. A crown of obsidian, carved in the shape of dancing flames, sits atop my head. It’s similar to the emperor’s crown, but smaller in size and lacking the red jewels. My hair is braided back neatly, the rope hanging to the base of my spine.

  My horse, her coat the color of the darkest nights, shifts impatiently below me, eager to start moving. Behind me is the carriage hearse containing Talon’s lifeless body, pulled by beasts as black as my own. My father, Mira, and Sybella—my brother’s widow—follow on their steeds, with Rysen, Blade, and two Guardsmen behind them. The four latter mentioned are to be the pallbearers, my friends doing so at my request.

  Crowds of citizens dressed in black line the streets of Capital City as we start to move along. They cross their right fists over their chests and bow their heads respectfully as we pass. It feels like an eternity before we reach the other end of the city and cross Sunset Bridge, which is lined on either side by Royal Guardsmen in black and red armor.

  I dismount my horse when we reach the palace grounds, as do the others behind me. Blade, Ryse, and the other two men lift my brother out of the hearse and follow close on my heels. Seeing the black coffin emblazoned with the emperor’s symbol, as well as the symbol of Roran, causes the lump that had formed in my throat to grow to nearly suffocating size. They walk directly behind me, the emperor and Mira close to follow, and Sybella behind them. Usually, the spouse leads the procession for a dead monarch, but Sybella refused, leaving the awful burden on me.

  I barely manage to place one foot in front of the other as I walk through the doors into the throne room. I feel myself ready to collapse until we halt, and Talon is placed on a marble dais before a non-denominational priest. Seeing as the imperial family and the Namari people claim no official religion, his presence is entirely ceremonial. I stand to the side of the coffin, Rysen on my right and Blade on my left. My father, Mira and Sybella are on the other end, tears visible on their cheeks.

  Standing so close to my dead brother, surrounded by people mourning his loss, the utter despair finally sinks in. I don’t hear a word the priest says as he begins to speak. My breath shortens, and my lungs feelsconstricted, like my own body is trying to strangle me. My chest begins to ache from my racing heart and spots float across my vision. Am I dying, too? The panic worsens as the thought crosses my mind. No, this is a panic attack, I realize. I would get them before, after my mother's passing.

  I feel ready to collapse, to pass out in front of the hundreds of onlookers, as well as the millions of Namari watching from telescreens around the empire. I almost do until I feel strong, callused fingers lace through my own. Blade. He holds my hand in his, squeezing gently. The discreet form of comfort does much to ease my panic, my heart beginning to slow and my chest opening to allow in air. I take a deep breath as the priest finishes the eulogy. He nods to me. My turn.

  As I step forward, Blade lets my fingers slip from his. I take a deep breath before resting my hands on the podium behind Talon’s coffin.

  “Talon Remus Renald was never just the bastard son. His entire life, he was treated as so much more. I speak for my entire family—and for my empire—when I say that he was truly beloved. He would have made a wonderful king and brought momentous change to Roran had he been given the chance. I will mourn my dearest brother’s loss for the rest of my life.”

  I pause, the rest of my speech slipping from my thoughts. I scan the cavernous space made small with the crowd of mourners. “The man that did this has killed others. Military men and women. Mothers, fathers, children, brothers, sisters. He has taken from my family and from my empire, so have faith in me, my people, when I tell you that I will find the terrorist Kainan and send his followers to the deepest pits of hell. I will not let you suffer.”

  Cheers and claps ensue, followed by chants of, “Long live the Renalds! Long burn the Eternal Flame!”

  I cast a glance in my father’s direction. There are tears in his eyes, and a smile on his face. This may be a day of mourning, but I had to take a stance. Neither myself nor my father have publicly spoken on the issue of the Uprising since the day Talon died.

  I walk past him to return to my position beside Blade. My father squeezes my shoulder as I pass, and whispers, “They adore you. You were born for this, little phoenix.”

  The priest returns to his place to finish the funeral. Blade takes my hand again, the adrenaline from my speech and from my people’s praise fading fast as the grim nature of today settles back in.

  The moment the ceremony ends, I let go of Blade disappear from the throne room. I find myself in Talon’s bedchamber, the last place he slept just before his coronation and marriage to Sybella. Traces of his familiar scent still linger in the untouched room.

  I can’t handle the sadness and grief that overwhelm me. It is soon joined by an anger so intense that I can feel it burning like a forest fire inside my blood.

  Without realizing it, the anger bursts out in an explosion of flames, setting the entire room ablaze. I crumple to the floor, tears streaming down my face as the room burns.

  Blade and Ryse find me sobbing in a heap on the floor. By the time they do, my fire has gone out, leaving nothing but ash and charred walls and furniture. Ryse gasps when he enters but doesn’t say a word. He tries to scoop me into his arms, but I refuse to move. He settles for wrapping an arm around my shoulder. Blade comes forward, kneeling in front of me, lifting my chin to level my gaze with his.

  “I want him dead,” I say, the thirst for vengeance dripping from my words like blood. He doesn’t need to ask to know I’m talking about Kainan.

  Blade stares at me, eyes steady and unwavering. “As do I, Calla.”

  ∞∞∞

  A week passes, the days moving in a blur. I spend most of my time with Blade and Rysen, planning our next trip to Drakonis and figuring out what can be done to track down Kainan. No one said a word about my outburst the whole time. My father had Talon’s room sealed off, deciding to leave it as I had made it. Besides, there was more important news that arrived that week: The Overseer had sent word that the Underground’s search for Kainan was well underway, and that they gathered some small bits of information on his whereabouts.

  Sybella stayed in the palace with us, no longer welcome by the Rorani loyalist military officials and politicians in Darinthe Manor for being a sympathizer with the empire. A majority of the people in the Province are supporters of the Uprising, which doesn't surprise anyone. She mostly kept to herself, hiding away in her chambers, scribbling in a journal she carried with her.

  At the end of the week, my father finally came around to my ideas. I stand beside him now, at the head of the Concilium underneath the orange dome. Only six pairs of kings and queens sit before us. Roran’s seats—Sybella and Talon’s seats—remain empty.

  “My daughter, your Grand Duchess and Imperial High General of the Armed Forces, has gathered a force capable of helping us fight the rebellion. I assume you are all aware of the Underground’s existence. Unbeknownst to me, Calla has spent years gaining their allegiance. They are loyal to her and are willing to fight Kainan and his rebels on the empire’s behalf, allowing us to focus the majority of the strength of the Armed Forces on the war in the Borderlands.”

  The politicians whisper among themselves, turning to whisper some more to their advisers standing behind them. Some nod in approval, but Queen Anesi of Haercayn speaks out.
<
br />   “Are we sure that they can be trusted? That Her Highness can be trusted? No disrespect, Grand Duchess, but you keep very controversial company." She pauses, likely for effect as she is known to do. "Rysen Dane. As the brother of the rebellion’s leader, he has no position in the emperor’s court, nor should he be so close to his daughter! I’ve heard the rumors from officials and palace employees about how a man spends his nights in the Grand Duchess’ bedroom—who’s to say it isn’t the Dane boy, trying to sex his way to power to help his traitorous brother!” She pauses dramatically to let her words settle on the Concilium, and then she turns to my father. “Can we really trust her judgement at this time?”

  I scoff and roll my eyes at her exclamations, and discomfort rises in my stomach at the implication that I share intimate relations with Rysen, who stands loyally behind my father and me. I shove the sensation aside.

  Anesi adheres to the old Eterran religion. She is a strictly Dormand-following queen who had once attempted to make her religion the official one of Haercayn, and even proposed forcing her people to practice the faith or have their government allowances taken. She also tried to make her Province’s economy one that favors the wealthy. It was shut down by my father and the Concilium in less than a heartbeat.

  That’s the beauty of our empire, I think to myself as my memories of Anesi’s attempted political overhaul distract me. Freedom of religion. A surplus of resources means every citizen of Namari is allocated all that they need—food, water, electricity, money. They may work or not, but almost all choose to, so they may have the opportunity to earn extra income. Politicians like Anesi have worked to try and have the system redesigned to favor the wealthy, which in turn makes said politicians very unfavorable. And the simple fact that she had tried to use religion as an excuse to take away from her people is the reason most of the monarchs here despise her.

  How she still holds any power is beyond me. Monarchs are elected and can be impeached, and I’m amazed the Haera have yet to try.

  “That’s enough!” my father bellows, his powerful voice reverberating through the hall and yanking me out of my thoughts. Every noble falls silent. “I will let my daughter answer to your petty accusations.”

  I straighten my shoulders and hold my chin higher. “Rysen wants to see Kainan’s head roll as much as I do. His intentions are the same as ours and he wants to do nothing more than help us hunt his brother down and end this rebellion before it escalates to civil war.” I pause, letting my words sink in. “As for the rumors you’re hearing: You have no right to throw gossip in my face. Because that’s all it is—gossip. Even if it were true, it’s none of your business. You are my subordinate and you will behave as such.”

  Queen Anesi sucks in a breath of astonishment, as do many other councilmen and women. She stands, shouting, “How dare you address me so informally, you little brat of a child—”

  “Remember who you speak to, Anesi,” I say with threatening calm, silencing her mid-insult. “You are a provincial queen; I will command the Namari Empire one day. It would be unwise to put yourself outside my good graces. Do not throw accusations around without expecting retaliation. I may not be emperor yet, but I am still your superior.”

  Rysen snorts out a laugh. A few sets of eyes turn to him and he bows his head, mumbling a quiet, “Sorry.”

  “I think we should take a break. This meeting is dismissed for the day.” My father moves to leave the Hall of the Concilium, bursting out the doors that lead to the west wing’s bridge.

  As the politicians mill about the Hall, Rysen and I leave toward the south wing.

  “Where are we going?” he asks as I lead him through the labyrinthine corridors.

  “You’ll see,” I say, picking up my pace as I take him to the end of the palace wing.

  A small door is nestled in a corner. I tug it open, revealing a spiraling staircase.

  “This leads up to the southeast tower,” he mutters. It’s not a question. Ryse pushes past me and takes the steps two at a time. I follow but my shorter legs mean I take double the amount of time he does. When I reach the top of the tower, he’s already standing at the edge against railing, gazing out over the landscape and relishing in the gentle breeze.

  Chapter 8

  Rysen

  “Beautiful, huh?” Calla asks as she moves to stand beside me against the wrought iron rail. I turn my gaze upward, admiring the fiery orange metal roof covering our heads.

  Then I turn to her and take in the fine, freckled features of her brown-toned face; her perky and small nose, her high cheekbones, smooth skin, and the amber of her eyes. The wind dances through the black curls of her hair and I long to run my fingers through it. Yes, I think in answer to her question, and I know it’s cheesy as I admire Calla’s breathtaking beauty. Absolutely stunning.

  As we watch the sky dim with the setting sun, I think about this last week with her. From the funeral, to training exercises in the courtyard and marveling at the way she manipulates fire in combat, to spending the evenings in the palace with her and Blade. As the memories leap through my mind, I’m hit with a startling realization. I have feelings for the emperor’s daughter. For a moment, I’m overwhelmed with dread at the thought—she’s the future emperor, and a gorgeous young woman. She can have any man in the empire that she desires. But, then she turns to me and blinks those amber eyes, and I feel nothing but happiness and unquestionable adoration. How these feelings managed to develop so quickly, I have no idea. All I know is they are there, and I cannot ignore them.

  “Calla,” I whisper, the two syllables like sugar on my tongue. Before I can second-guess myself, I start to lean in.

  But before she can even notice, someone interrupts me.

  A man clears their throat from behind us. It’s Blade, standing at the top of the stairs, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably.

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but we should be leaving soon. Sun’s going down and we need to get to Drakonis,” he says before disappearing down the winding stairs.

  Calla flashes me a small smile before following Blade down the steps. I hear her say, “What were you interrupting?” from atop the stairs. Under my breath, I curse whatever gods exist.

  ∞∞∞

  Only thirty minutes pass before Calla falls asleep in the pilot’s chair, the hoverjet perfectly capable of flying itself most of the way. Blade walks up to the cockpit and taps my shoulder, gesturing for me to sit in the back with him.

  “So, the rumors are true. You’ve got a thing for Calla.” Blade wriggles his eyebrows at me.

  “It’s not like that,” I say quickly. Blade laughs, so I elaborate. “I barely know her. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just... I don’t know.”

  “Hey, consider yourself lucky she didn’t pitch you off the tower. She rejected tons of boys dozens of times before they just took the hint and stopped trying. She hardly ever gives a guy so much as a second glance. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for her mate to appear, so I’m surprised she’s let you get so close.”

  “What about those rumors Queen Anesi brought up? Aren’t you the one spending the night in her bedchamber? How would Fayette feel about that?”

  Blade stares at me. Hard. “That’s nothing. Calla is my best friend and like a sister to me. I’m just trying to take care of her as best I can. Gods know that if I didn’t, no one would. That girl puts every soul on Eterra before herself, animals included. Fayette would understand.”

  I return his stare, thinking over his words. “If you say so.” I don’t even try to hide the jealousy behind my tone.

  He chuckles and leans back, kicking up his feet on the seat across from him. “You really don’t know a thing about women.”

  “No,” I shake my head. “Maybe I do. Maybe I will.”

  Something in Blade’s face shifts, but it disappears as soon as I see Calla’s head poke out from the cockpit. “What are you two lovers talking about back there?”

  “Your new boyfriend
was just telling me how he’s only using you to make me jealous. Sorry, Calla, but even the men can’t resist my charm,” Blade responds, winking in her direction. “I say you should’ve shoved him over the rails. Would make for quite the interesting romance tale.”

  She rolls her eyes, turning her attention away from us and to the expansive night sky laid out before her. “Buckle up, I’m taking her out of cruise control.”

  The Nighthawk lurches forward, launching over Roran. We reach Mordue within minutes despite the hundreds of miles of distance, the capital of the Underground looming ominously ahead, its peak poking out above the low clouds. We dip down into a canyon and Calla directs the jet to the same hangar as before, landing with skillful precision in line with the other hoverjets and transports.

  “Is Fayette in the city?” I overhear Blade ask one of the nearest leather armor-clad men as we disembark. By the sound of his frustrated groan, the answer was no.

  “Come on,” Calla says, signaling for Blade and me to catch up with her. She’s already halfway across the massive hangar when we do. “The Overseer is waiting for us.”

  ∞∞∞

  Our meeting with the Overseer is brief. He vaguely covers the plans for hunting Kainan, relays some information to Calla, and explains how the Underground is going to use the three of us. With Calla’s attention divided between the Great War in the Borderlands and dealing with the Uprising, she will only be staying temporarily, while Blade and I will be devoting all of our energy to assisting the Underground.

  “Are you up for the task, kid?” the Overseer asks me as we turn to leave. I nod to him. “Good,” he says, slapping me on the back with a massive hand. “Tull will explain tomorrow’s mission.”

  The youngest of the Circle steps forward, falling in between the three of us. “Be in the hangar tomorrow at o-nine-hundred hours. It’s a simple recon mission. I’ll give you the rest of the details on the flight out.”