by Viola Grace
“I am sorry about the short notice, C’dallia, but I just found out. If you don’t have time, I can and will accept a care package from Thoola.” Sy stood on a small platform and let the giant arachnid bustle around her.
“Well, I do have something that would be suitable for a coronation if you like. I brought it along. Keeba, bring it out.”
C’dallia’s journeyman weaver opened a wooden box and drew out lengths of gold silk that fluttered gracefully in the light breeze coming into the common sunroom.
“It’s lovely, but I don’t know how much I have stashed away from my instructor’s fees. Until I take the throne, I am still the same moneyless twit you have known since I was tiny.”
C’dallia stroked her face with one soft foot. “Whatever I can do for you, I will. You will not go to Vexa as a pauper. My students and I will work through the night.”
Sy’s heart swelled at the outpouring of support and affection. “This is all too much, I am getting weepy. Wadara has arranged bodyguards, you are providing me with a wardrobe, all I have to offer is some tips on shearing and carding.”
“You have done plenty over the years. This is our chance to send you off in style. It is not something we get to do that often.” Wadara was watching from the sidelines.
An impromptu party had been called, and their efforts at cheese making were being devoured by any and all who came by to give their best wishes. It was a little off putting to be on display in her shift while C’dallia measured and pinched, but watching a l’nal in action was not something that happened every day.
Syrella allowed herself to be an object lesson as she was poked, prodded, turned and wrapped. L’nal silks were the finest in the universe, and each metre of fabric was a light air puff of concealment.
C’dallia was chattering happily, “Your planet does have the most lovely gowns. I am basing this design on traditional Vexar patterns.”
Wadara snorted and held her composure. Halwen giggled and passed a tray of cheese and crackers.
It suddenly struck Syrella that she was this evening’s entertainment.
“Lakial, show Syrella how her gown is coming along.”
The student knelt in front of Syrella, spread her arms apart and generated a mirror of gathered water.
Syrella was currently in a silvery gown that wrapped her tight from breast to hip and flowed into a skirt with a four-foot train. “It’s lovely and surprisingly comfortable.”
C’dallia cackled and clicked away. “Now, Keeba will mark it, and we will enable you to get in and out of it on your own. We will make the gold gown more dramatic and far more regal.”
“Oh, good. At least I can look the part when I take the test of the thorn. It is rather important to look one’s best when facing death.” She kept it bright, but everyone in the room froze.
Wadara was suddenly looking a lot less amused. “What?”
Sy smiled, “Don’t you wonder why I am suddenly the heir apparent?”
Wadara frowned, “Well, I knew you were a duchess, but I thought you were in the royal line.”
“I am. But to prove my right to the bloodline, I have to prick my finger on the thorn at the back of the throne. If I am the true heir, the throne will glow, and if I am not, the thorn will send poison through my veins that will kill me in precisely one hour.”
C’dallia clicked, “You are sure that you are of the bloodline?”
Sy turned as Keeba moved her arm to one side and shifted position as she was dressed and undressed in front of the gathering. “I am sure. My grandfather was tested as alternate heir, and he contracted with my grandmother for a child of direct lineage, and no one who ever saw my parents together could doubt that any child she bore belonged to him.”
“So, what do you think happened to the sixty-six folks between you and the throne?” Keeba whispered it quietly, but there was curiosity in her solid blue eyes.
Sy breathed in and out in a controlled motion. “I am guessing that it involved a lot of screaming. The Vexar nobility are not known for their fidelity.”
C’dallia clicked, “What of your mother’s line?”
Sy watched the careful pleats that the l’nal placed in the gold silk. “My mother was a commoner by classification and a royal by her great-grandmother’s birth. It wasn’t common knowledge, but it was the factor that allowed my father to marry her.”
Halwen cocked her head. “Are your people so hung up on bloodlines?”
“Only when it comes to filling the throne. All other nobles can breed with whatever takes their fancy. Also, they are not my people, you are my people.” Sy fought the prick of tears as Keeba started pinning the gown into final shape.
Wadara had her own tears as she smiled, “And you are one of us. You always will be. Call on us if you need it, we will be there.”
The women in the room nodded and muttered agreement.
Halwen latched on to a piece of information, “You breed under contract?”
Syrella wanted to laugh, but C’dallia was pinning around her torso until the fabric was a second skin. Careful not to move too much, she said, “Yes. For inheritance purposes, it is imperative to make sure that the parents are confirmed. When I was born, I was tested and confirmed to be both of my parents’ legal heir. My father’s property was entailed along the male line, and my mother’s family did not have any commercial property to speak of, so I have an empty title and good memories of my first years at home.”
Halwen cocked her head. “Will you have to contract for a breeding partner?”
Syrella sighed and then winced as she was pricked. “I guess I will. I have not given it much thought.”
Wadara perked up, “Oh, Sy, that reminds me, Dorium has volunteered to be one of your guards.”
Sy flushed crimson. She swallowed and tried to breathe. “You don’t say. Well, thank you for the warning.”
The room full of women and girls laughed at her, and she tried to regain her composure.
Wadara was still chuckling when Halwen asked, “Who is Dorium?”
The headmistress filled her in. “He is my brother. Syrella has had a crush on him since she was a child. I have never told him, and she puts up a barrier when he is around, but her mind goes haywire.”
“You are sharing too much information, Wadara.” Syrella tried to be prim, but she wasn’t going to lie. Every time she had ever seen Dorium, her heart had tried to pound its way out from behind her ribs. Knowing that he would be taking her to Vexa, she was ready to collapse in a heap.
Trying to pretend that she wasn’t fixated on the mental image of the literal man of her dreams, she asked, “Who else is coming?”
“Agoth and Perinio. Between them, they should be able to keep you covered around the clock.” Wadara filled her glass of wine again, and her smile was a little loose.
C’dallia was focussed on her creation. She clacked, and Lakial knelt again, bringing a mirror into being with her hands and mind.
Syrella’s breath whooshed out of her lungs as she took in the gown that she would wear for her first or final day on Vexa. Tears started down her cheeks. “C’dallia, Keeba, it is lovely, it feels like I am wearing nothing but air.”
C’dallia lifted her chin on one fuzzy foot, bringing Sy’s gaze to her mandibles. “We are proud of you, and we will show the court of Vexa that you do not enter it alone and friendless. You have the Citadel to call upon, and we are a formidable force.”
The mandibles clicked and C’dallia leaned forward to place her deadly appendages on either side of her temples. Syrella held still as she was given the l’nal blessing. It translated into too good to eat.
When C’dallia let her go, Syrella smiled and pressed her hand to the stiff fur covering the huge spider. “Thank you, C’dallia. I will miss you too.”
Keeba was smiling gently, and she moved into high gear as C’dallia clicked. In moments, the gold gown was removed and set aside for permanent stitching. The apprentices were working on the first day gowns that S
y had picked out, and no one was complaining about the pace.
Once she was back in her loose robes, Sy made a beeline for the wine and took a bite of the cheese that her students had made that afternoon. It wasn’t bad. It needed more salt, but they would get the hang of it in time.
She just wished that she would be here when they did manage to get a grip on their new skill. It seemed like she was just getting started and she had to leave. Sy chuckled softly before joining her going-away party, leaving just as something good started was the story of her life.
Chapter Four
The travel gown was a deep purple that made her pale eyes sparkle. She blushed hot pink when Dorium left the Citadel shuttle and she stood in stunned surprise as he and the other two bodyguards went down on one knee before her.
“Empress, we are here to serve.” Dorium’s voice sent shivers through her as it always did.
“Thank you for your enthusiasm for the project, but I am not empress yet. I am merely the heir apparent.” She inclined her head and gestured for them to rise.
Dorium stood with a smile, “We were practicing. It is not everyone that gets to guard a soon-to-be empress.”
“Hello, Dorium. Welcome, Agoth, welcome, Perinio. I believe that we are waiting for the Vexar ship.” Syrella gestured to the huge tent that had been set up in the courtyard. “A space has been prepared for us while we wait.”
She didn’t say another word but swept her skirt out her way and moved across the grass to the shaded space. No men were allowed within the Thoola Citadel. The unstable hormones of the females were devastating to an unprepared male.
Her own exposure to Dorium had first occurred when she was a child. He had comforted her as the ship left Saluthic, making a lasting impression on her. His was the first kindness she experienced outside her own close-knit family. The pain of separation had been agonizing, but having one friend in the pretty green man had been a lifeline to her soul.
As a teen and later an adult, Syrella had consulted on any number of Citadel intakes with Dorium. She had sympathy for those who were forced to leave their homes, and she counselled the girls as they flew across the stars toward Thoola. She blushed so often during those communications, she wasn’t sure that Dorium knew her actual skin colour.
Tavya was serving tea to their little group, and when Sy took her seat, the men ranged themselves around the small table in a disturbing upright formation.
“Gentlemen, when the Vexar get here, feel free to be formal, for now, have some tea.” They didn’t move, so she added, “That’s an order.”
Grinning, they took the chairs and settled themselves.
Agoth grinned, showing his sharp white teeth. “We want you to get used to giving us orders. It is imperative that you present as a strong leader. With three Citadel bodyguards, we will be making a strong impression for you.”
Dorium offered her cream for her tea, but she demurred.
They sat around having a pleasant chat, and when the Vexar shuttle landed in front of the Citadel, they were laughing at some very inappropriate jokes regarding species who did not wear clothing and who, in fact, fought anyone who did. Being attacked by nudists was distracting, but it was an easy fight.
The Vexar honour guard was taken aback by the casual nature of their gathering, and Syrella got to her feet to face the captain.
“Captain, welcome to Thoola.”
“Duchess, we are honoured to escort you to Vexa.”
“Thank you, Captain, but is there room for four on your ship?”
He blinked in surprise. “We are only prepared for your arrival.”
Sy nodded as if she expected nothing less. “Thank you, Captain. We will travel in the Citadel ship to Vexa. It is only appropriate as the Citadel has been my home for decades.”
“But…” The captain of the Vexar vessel looked so confused.
Dorium faced the man and inclined his head. “We are the Citadel-assigned guards, and we have responsibility to keep the Duchess of Saluthic alive and well. We will be remaining with her until she orders us to leave.”
The captain spoke quickly with his second in command before he returned to the small gathering. “You will follow us, but we will be with you right up until the moment we touch down. From that point on, we are your escort.”
Dorium grinned at him. “Escort all you like, but we will be with her the entire time.”
Syrella fought the urge to close her eyes. No wonder the males at the Citadel were kept separated from the females during puberty. If there were displays like this, the girls would kill them.
“You two hash this out, and I will speak with the headmistress. Notify me when you have worked it out amongst yourselves.” Sy met Dorium’s gaze, and her smile authorized him to settle matters quickly.
She gathered her skirts and left the tent an instant before the first punch flew. Sy winced and kept walking toward the Citadel.
Wadara walked out of the gates and stepped toward her. “I thought you were leaving.”
Sy shrugged, “So did I, but the boys were having a pissing contest, and I wanted to be as far away as I could while they hashed out who was going to have the honour of my company.”
Wadara’s eyes widened as someone flew out of the tent behind Syrella. Sy refused to look.
“You aren’t even curious to see how things are proceeding?” Wadara winced as she saw something objectionable behind Sy.
“No. I refuse to look. As a personal request, could you have Negina and Weshka come down here? No matter who wins, I want everyone leaving here whole and only a little bit sore.”
Wadara winked. “Of course. They will be down in a moment. I think it will be nice for them to practice on someone other than those of your students who get run over by goats.”
Sy snickered. “I know you wanted me to leave with a bit of dignity, but this seems to be the sort of thing that I have always set off. Nothing goes smoothly around me, and I have decided to embrace it.”
“A healthy attitude. It is one I have held since I began my tenure here.” Wadara grinned.
They began to walk slowly around the courtyard while the sounds of battle died to a soft round of thuds.
When Sy turned to face the tent, her eyes widened at the pile of Vexar imperial household uniforms and their battered contents. “Ouch.”
“The healers are on their way.”
“I had no idea that they had sent a dozen men as escort. I guess one flew out, and the others came running.” Sy was impressed. “They must be desperate to have me in the throne room. I wonder how many other people are up for the dubious honour of the thorn?”
“There will be others?”
“Usually. When I was born, I was over ninetieth in line for the throne. When I entered the Citadel, I was up to sixty-seventh. Vexar nobles like to kill each other.” Sy shrugged.
“Aren’t you worried?” Wadara’s brow was furrowed in a frown.
“No. If this is what I am meant to do, it is what I will do. The emperor I grew up with was a good man, and even though there have been four idiots on that throne since, it is his memory that I carry with me and my parents’ memory that I will honour.”
The two healers came through the doors, and Wadara’s blank expression indicated that she was giving them direction.
Wadara grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We are still here if you need anything. Don’t think for one moment that you don’t have a home with people who love you. You are not alone, and you will never be alone as long as the Thoola Citadel survives.”
Sy touched her friend’s hair then her cheek. “Thank you. It means a lot to know that I have friends to back me up.”
“Always and forever, Sy. We are only a thought away. Well, as long as Dorium is with you. You might want to keep him close.” Wadara tried to put an innocent expression on her face and failed miserably.
Sy looked at the tent where her Citadel-trained guards were emerging. Dorium was wiping his hands, and his expression an
d that of his companions showed that they took no pleasure in the pain they had inflicted. It was a matter of making sure that the imperial guards knew where they stood. It would not be next to Syrella.
Dorium nodded to Syrella, and she gave Wadara a quick hug. “Remind me to thank you for Dorium. As a method of torture, he is the most effective means you have ever cooked up.”
Wadara Povix, Headmistress of the Citadel School Thoola, grinned evilly, showing her sharp canines. “That was my plan. Enjoy him. He is willing to be a constant companion to you if you let him.”
With that perplexing statement in the air, Wadara left her, and Dorium collected her to begin their journey to Vexa. It was time to face the thorn and take the throne.
Chapter Five
Syrella spent the fourteen hours of travel meditating and trying to keep calm. Dorium, Agoth and Perinio occasionally spoke to her, trying to draw her into conversation, but her mood was either detected by one of their senses, or they were just ready to let her focus.
Her first trip to Vexa as a child had been bittersweet. Her mother had not been allowed to meet the emperor. She had been forced to remain on Saluthic while Syrella and her father went to visit as kin of the ruler of nineteen worlds. Clinging to her father’s hand, she had walked in a stiff dress and stiffer shoes and made her curtsey to the man who ruled over billions.
Her father made his bow and the emperor smiled and asked. “Arnos Loesh, Duke of Saluthic, welcome. Who is this charming little one? She glows like dawn.”
Her father inclined his head in respect. “My daughter is named Syrella, after her mother.”
“Syrella, please come up here and speak to me. You are the most welcome addition to my court that I have seen in years.”
Sy looked up at her father, and he nodded encouragingly. With her stiff shoes slipping a little on the stone, she walked up the four steps and curtseyed again.
The Emperor reached out and lifted her up, placing her on his knee in front of the assembled court. “So, Syrella, do you have anything to ask of me?”