by Elise Kova
Chapter Five
Vi eased herself down into the chair behind her desk as though it were a throne. As though she wasn’t completely surrounded by the men and woman who sought to pass judgment on her. Her eyes fluttered closed and she took a small, stabilizing breath.
She needed to keep her head about her. Her magic seemed erratic—more so than normal today—and the last thing she wanted was it running away on a rogue emotion and causing a mishap in front of Andru. She needed to be a perfect princess, just as Jayme had said.
Vi opened her eyes once more. They had all been waiting for her to speak as the highest rank among them. Silence can be control, her father had told her once. This was the first time she felt she truly exercised it.
“Let us start from the beginning. I would rather not have the details, and thus my understanding, be in pieces.” Vi looked to Andru, folding her hands on the desk.
“Yes, your highness.” Andru gave a small bow of his head and took the floor. He produced a small folded envelope, a broken seal bearing the blue signet of the Senate. Handing it to Vi, he paraphrased: “Your upbringing has been unconventional. As a result, many are concerned if you will truly rule with the Empire’s best interests in mind.
“Since the Senate helps bridge the people and the crown, I have been sent to compose an assessment of what you have learned and your overall demeanor. This will help the Senate give you their vote of confidence immediately on returning home.”
Vi had a few things she could think of that the Senate should be doing rather than assessing her—chief among them was not meddling with her family. Her rule did not have to be complicated and she had no idea why the Senate was making it out to be.
“Why the urgency?” Vi asked, already suspecting the answer based on her discussion with Jayme. “The Senate can assess me in full when I return home in the spring. I will not sit the throne for many years, so even the people will have a chance to come to know me when I am no longer bound to Shaldan.”
“As you may have read in your letters, your father has left the capital, and soon the continent. We wish to account for contingencies.”
A nice way of saying, “in case he dies,” and they all knew it. It was the way of royalty; Romulin was the contingency plan for her, she was the contingency plan for her father, alongside her mother.
“Or perhaps you could consider me collateral.” Andru shifted his weight from side to side, glancing askance. “To ensure that Chieftain Sehra will not do anything to try to keep you. The Imperial parade will come to collect me as the son of Head of Senate, ensuring your return as well.”
Her own lips turned into a bitter smile. He wasn’t nearly as valuable as she was. If the Senate changed their mind on making the trip for her, then the trip wouldn’t be made, regardless of who else was stuck with her.
“Yes, well, it is not as if I can send you away, even if I wanted to.” Jayme said the passages were too perilous now for safe travel. They were trapped together, for better or worse, for a winter. “So how will your assessment work?”
“I will sit in on all your lessons.” He lifted a folio off the desk her tutors usually used. “I have notes from the Senate of things they wish to see, certain subjects they want reported on. As you might imagine, princess, they are keen to learn more of your politics.”
Vi gripped her hands tighter still. Now she was to be graded like a child. They didn’t respect her, or her authority.
She took a calming breath, squelching her eager spark to show them all why they should heed her. If this was what she must do, then she would do it gracefully.
“I fear you shall be bored, but do as you like.” Nothing in Vi’s words betrayed the swirling emotion within her.
“Well then, now that we are all acquainted, I would like to begin that half lesson you promised me, princess,” Martis interjected.
“Yes, certainly, I am ready when you are.”
Martis moved behind the desk. Andru moved for a chair in the back corner of the room. Something about having him sit off to her side and behind her right shoulder had Vi uneasy. But there was little she could do other than sit straighter and try to ignore him entirely.
“Since I am still going through my letters, let us resume with our discussion from two days ago, if you please.”
She didn’t please, if Vi was being honest.
More than anything she wanted a few solid hours with herself to regain her mental footing. Her eyes drifted to Jax for support, but he was already leaving the room.
Outwardly, she’d be the princess, while inwardly she’d boil from her magic super-heating her nerves.
“Yes, Martis, where shall we resume the discussions?” Vi said as the door closed behind her last tutor, leaving her alone with Martis and Andru.
“We had been talking about the nature of the Senate.” What an apt thing to be discussing now with Andru in the room. “Our last lesson had ended before you could answer my question.”
“Please refresh my memory.” Vi remembered perfectly, she just hoped to look for an opening to change the topic.
It didn’t work, and Vi settled in for several long hours of tutelage.
She had never been so exhausted at the end of a day of lessons. It felt like an entire lifetime had transpired. She’d woken up before dawn and now emerged from her classroom after the sun had set.
But her back was still rigid, a relaxed expression turned into a small smile as she thanked her final tutor and sent him away. Andru was close behind but he paused in the doorway.
“Thank you for allowing me to sit in on your lessons.”
“You’re welcome.” He was as welcome as a viper in her bed. Vi wanted him gone. She wanted him gone as badly as she wanted out of her formal clothes, which at that moment was very badly.
“I look forward to the next time we have lessons together. But I hear that will be in a few days’ time, as you are going on a hunt.”
“Yes, I am quite excited.” What Vi really wanted to say was that if he tried to do something to take her hunt from her, she’d burn him to ash where he stood. “Leaving Soricium is a gift from Sehra. She gives her blessing for it every year.”
“Her blessing? Prince Romulin has said that you, as the Crown Princess, can do as you please.”
Vi couldn’t ever do as she pleased because she was the Crown Princess.
“Even a Crown Princess can show respect toward her host.” The quick response seemed to satisfy him. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am quite exhausted from the events of the day and I can only imagine you are as well, since you’ve been traveling for some time.”
“I am tired.” Andru looked out the door. But instead of leaving, he slowly closed it.
“Lord Andru, I am not sure what you think you are doing, but I do not think it is appropriate for you to be in my chambers, unescorted, at this hour.” Perhaps it was a test, Vi reasoned. Perhaps he was trying to see if she would object or if he could uncover some deeply romantic corner of her, looking for a moonlight tryst. If that were the case, he was about to be sorely disappointed.
“I realize. Forgive me, princess.” Andru took a step inside, and then another. There was something she disliked about how unhurried his movements were, combined with that shifty look of his. “But there is something I must tell you, alone.”
Vi stood her ground, straightening. She wasn’t going to take one step back. If this was an intimidation tactic, it wouldn’t work.
“We are alone. Tell me and then leave.”
“No, no, it’s not tell you.” He shook his head and finally stopped. One more step and he might have had his nose singed. “Give you.” Andru reached into the breast pocket of his coat.
Vi watched, admittedly curious, as he produced a rumpled envelope. It was worse for wear, but the seal—the Solaris seal—was still intact. Only four people in the world were permitted to seal their envelopes with that mark.
“It is from your brother,” he said stiffly, holding it out.
&n
bsp; Vi looked between the letter and the man, trying to choose her next words carefully. “Why did it not arrive with Jayme?”
“The decision for me to come North was rather… last minute. There was not time for more letters to be added to Jayme’s satchel.”
The story linked up, but Vi still regarded the envelope with suspicion. Even so, she took it. Regardless of how he got it, the contents were from one of her family members, and that was worth more than gold.
“Thank you for bringing it.” Vi held it in both hands, flipping it over. There was no writing on the outside. Andru continued to hover. Her eyes flicked up to his and neither moved for a long second. “Is there anything else?”
“No, well, I—”
“You are dismissed, then.” Vi gave him a smile, trying to ease away the harshness from the statement. “As you agreed, it is improper for you to be here.”
“Yes… of course.” Andru took a step away and Vi felt like she could breathe that much easier. Andru paused one final time, door halfway open. Over his shoulder, he gave her a small smile, the long bangs of his otherwise short blond hair tossed to one side. “Do enjoy your hunt tomorrow, and be careful—we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
Before she could respond, the door closed.
“Finally.” Vi all but ran into her bedroom. She pulled at the lacing of her dress, slipping it off and donning a simple nightgown.
Vi sunk onto the thinly woven blanket that covered her bed.
“Now, let’s see what’s really going on,” she mumbled, placing the white box next to her on the feather mattress. Opening the top, Vi fished out the envelope marked with a golden seal of a blazing sun—the imperial signet—and her brother’s handwriting in the corner marking “from Romulin.”
She glanced at the letter Andru had given her, but decided to start with her box first, and save that for last.
Dearest Sister,
I’m sure much of what I’m about to tell you is repetitive to mother and father’s letters and Jayme’s reports to you. If you find it annoying, I’d like to remind you of your previous request for me to tell you of everything in my own words.
A small smile crossed her lips. Her brother’s handwriting was not the tight, slanted script of her father’s, nor was it the wider loops of her mother’s, but somewhere in-between. Every time she read his letters, she tried to imagine a new voice for Romulin. It was a game she’d started playing as a child, and intentionally never asked anyone who knew her brother what he sounded like so that it would be a surprise when she did finally meet him.
The Senate has decided that you are to come home, that they can wait no longer, regardless of the plague and its spread. I think the final straw was word that there was evidence of it in the North. Or perhaps it was father’s departure and the feeling that they are in dire straits without their C. Princess here in their sights.
Regardless of the reason, Mother could not be more excited to see you again, even though she just left you a few months ago. Which, speaking of, thank you for the cookies you sent. Even though they were crushed somewhat in travel (despite Mother’s best efforts), they were quite curious indeed.
Vi closed her eyes, savoring the memory of her mother’s visit the past summer. It had been postponed later than usual due to winter lingering in the mountains. But that meant her mother stayed later, and Vi remembered every tangle and curl of her mother’s hair, the soft smell of fresh eucalyptus in the perfumes she wore.
When Vi reopened her eyes, they fell back to the words father’s departure, and prompted Vi to keep reading.
Mother was rather a force in demanding that the entire family be permitted to come and get you. It seems she’s finally had enough of “the Senate insisting on our separation”—her words, not mine. Though, I whole-heartedly endorse her on this. She all but made an Imperial decree on the matter. She wanted to come and get you sooner with a small contingent that could navigate the icy passes, but the Senate insisted on a full military parade—no doubt to show the North its might. They also reasoned the protection was necessary if I was to come as well. So concessions were made.
Sister, I advise you to steal the ear of the Chieftain sometime soon and warn her of this. Help her set her people’s expectations for when the army arrives. The Senate sees this as a display of strength and a necessary level of protection for the royal family being all in one place, but I worry it could strain relations.
There is enough political uncertainty right now around the White Death. The people are afraid, and a populous living in fear is an unstable one. You are possibly the singular thing that can unite the Empire, but you’ll need to play your cards right…
Vi read on, gaining as much insight as her brother could give her on the dance of politics. Several passages she had to read twice. The whole letter was nearly four pages, but not a single mention of Andru.
… and, with that, I leave you for now. This may be the last letter I ever write, since Jayme will be staying up there with you and the passages will be too frozen for safe travel in short order. No more letters will have a chance to go through before the passes thaw, and when they do I will be on them, heading to you.
Can you believe it? The last letter I will ever write you. I have only known you through the tip of a pen… and soon, I will speak to you. I imagine what you will sound like, what our conversations will be in person. I cannot wait to hear about how your birthday hunt went this year, or what mayhem you and Ellene made at the winter solstice festival.
Everything feels as though it is happening so fast, yet I cannot wait. Somehow, I already know you feel the same, my twin.
Until we meet, dear sister.
Romulin
At least it seemed fast for him. For Vi, she had lived her entire life waiting. She folded the letter and sought out her mother’s next, hoping for a little brightness.
Vi was not disappointed. Much like Romulin said, the missive contained words of love, excitement, and encouragement. Only Vhalla Solaris could pen a letter that was equally beautiful and sorrowful. She clutched the letter to her chest, as if it could ease the dull ache there.
One more important letter remained: her father’s.
Both Romulin and Vhalla had mentioned her father’s departure, along with Jayme and Andru, and now Vi hoped that his own words would give more clarity on such a critical decision. Yet she found the letter painfully lacking. Judging from his penmanship, he’d clearly scribbled it in haste.
My darling daughter,
I did not want to miss the opportunity to both send you an almost ceremonial final letter in this last batch, as well as my apologies with it.
There is reason for me to believe that a cure for the plague sweeping across our lands is on the Crescent Continent. I must go and meet with their leaders, inquire as to this potential cure myself. It is imperative for our family, for our future together.
The leaders on the Crescent Continent refused to discuss it with anyone else and our situation—our personal need of it—has become dire. Please understand, had this not been the case, nothing would’ve taken me from this land so close to bringing you home.
Please forgive your father for not taking the time to come north and visit you before leaving. The urgency surrounding these matters cannot be expressed in a mere letter. But the sooner I depart from Norin, the sooner I can return and make everything clear.
I promise you, I shall be there with your mother and brother when the time comes to collect you. We will be one family soon enough.
With love,
Your father
“I understand, father,” Vi said with a thick throat. She’d spent her life being groomed to take his seat and assume the throne following him. Yet Vi couldn’t imagine what it was like to be an Emperor or Empress. To be simultaneously responsible for all the good and bad of the Empire.
To think that was a job some imagined the Senate to take from them, Vi thought bitterly. The more power they attempted to chip away from th
e crown, the greater their own responsibility. She’d heard it said that a heavy crown made a good ruler, but from where Vi sat, the Senate seemed to have necks far too thin to wear the sun crown—even if it were split among them.
Rubbing her eyes, making sure no rogue tears slipped from them as they were wont to do whenever she received her box of letters, Vi returned the envelope to sit with the rest. There were others among them, their wax seals telling Vi who was vying for the eyes of the Crown Princess. She recognized a few crests of court members; one senatorial seal was possibly noteworthy, but likely just another noble attempting to get in the good graces of the future Empress.
She placed the box on her bedside table and picked up the final letter she’d read for the night. Vi slid her finger under the seal and lifted. The flap opened and, just as Andru had said it would, her brother’s script greeted her.
V—
Forgive my brevity. I’m sure you’ll understand. I had to send something ahead and there’s no time.
Andru is more important than you could possibly know. Please, be on your best behavior.
R.
Vi flipped over the letter, looking for more, but there wasn’t any.
“What does that even mean?” she groaned, flopping back onto the bed. Vi gripped her pillow, rolling onto her side, clutching it.
Be on her best behavior. Be the perfect princess. Manage her magic that just so happened to show her strange visions of the future now, when normalcy was the watch-word.
She pressed her eyes closed and took a breath, stopping the spark before it set her bed sheets ablaze.
The only thing Vi wanted to think about was the freedom tomorrow would bring. One more sleep and then she’d be on the hunt—far away from everything—and would hopefully have a moment to herself to think.
Hopefully.