by Viola Grace
She blinked at him for a moment and answered from her heart. “Don’t ask for me and my dad anymore. I want to stay with my mom and so does he.”
He quivered and burst into laughter. “An honest child. Never lose that, Syrella. It is a great and wonderful thing.”
“How can you lose honesty?”
“Ah, that is a very good question. I don’t know. Do you want to know anything else?”
Syrella stood up, balancing on the arm of the big chair that the emperor was seated in. “What is this?”
She touched the spike sticking out behind the man’s head, and her finger felt the poke a moment before her father shouted and the emperor pulled her away. A tiny drop of blood was on her finger, and she frowned, putting her digit in her mouth. “Ow.”
The chair that the emperor sat on started to glow with a pretty pink colour. “Well, look at that.”
She looked around for her daddy, but the guards who stood by the base of the throne were holding him. “Why are they holding my daddy?”
The emperor smiled, “Because he wanted to hold you. Go to him, Syrella, and know that you will always be welcome on Vexa.”
She ran to her father, and he held her close, his tears dampened her hair. She knew one thing at that moment—she and her daddy would never have to return to Vexa.
“Duchess, we are on final approach. Are you ready?” Agoth was near her, his hair was neatly braided in minute strands, and those strands were bound together with a leather band. His deep chestnut skin was a contrast to his bright yellow eyes.
“I am ready. Well, as ready as one can be when facing mind-numbing boredom.” She smiled brightly.
“It seems that you are already prepared for this. What can we look forward to?” Agoth seemed eager.
“Well, we will exit this shuttle, and the Vexar imperial guard should surround us. They will form a block and walk us to the throne room. Oh, that reminds me. I need to change into my formal gown for the thorn ceremony.” She got to her feet. “I will be right back.”
Her luggage was strapped tightly in the back, so she flipped through the three boxes until she located the silver silk gown. Syrella gathered the fabric up and walked into the lav. Changing from semi-formal gown into ball gown in a lav in a shuttle was not an activity for the weak hearted, but by the time she felt the tug of Vexa’s gravity, she was dressed in a strapless gown of silver.
She carefully folded the purple gown and tucked it into her luggage before standing next to the seats holding her guards.
Agoth looked at her. “Have a seat, Duchess. We are entering the Vexar atmosphere.”
She smiled and shook her head, reaching above her for the straps used by fliers who couldn’t manage the seat backs. “Not in this gown I won’t. I am fairly sure that if I crease this gown before I sit on the throne, C’dallia will sense it and Vexa will be under l’nal attack.”
Perinio smirked, his deep blue skin reflecting stars and his bald skull gleaming in the refracted light coming through the window. The tattoos that swirled across his skin were almost invisible until the light struck them just the right way. “You have a l’nal seamstress?”
“She is a master weaver and teaches her art on Thoola. When her last husband…died…she needed a place to call her own. Her daughters are settled with broods of their own, so she wanted to teach the young of other species.”
Agoth took over the controls when Dorium turned to look at her. “Well, her efforts are truly lovely.”
She wanted to say the same, wanted to tell him that her gaze could wander over the shining green of his skin, the black of his hair and the deep brown of his eyes over and over again. The tight bodysuit that the Citadel had provided him and the others were unrelieved black with crimson piping. It made her smile—crimson was her family colour.
“Thank you, Dorium. I will pass your praise on to her.” She glanced down at the gown and had to admit it was stunning. Bands of folded fabric accented the bodice, the remainder was tightly laced from shoulder blades to hips, the wide pleats and gathers of the skirt swirled out and held themselves in a lovely, graceful drape.
“Now, for your briefing. We will land, the atmosphere will be equalized and the imperial guard will arrive to escort us to the throne room. If my guess is correct, two-thirds of those in between the throne and me died while touching the thorn. They may be on display in the throne room, but do not let the corpses faze you. Well, anyway, the guards will lead us there, and they will peel off when we reach the stairs to the throne. I will be announced, and from there, I will walk up the steps to the throne. The deceased emperor may still be in the throne when I reach over him to touch the thorn, but if the throne glows, I will step back, and it will incinerate him so that I can take my seat on the throne. Once the throne is clear, it will change to my colour, and I will be seated. The crowd will applaud politely, and two of you will walk up the steps, the third will remain at the base of the steps.
“One by one, the nobles will come, tell me their names and their titles. That can take a few hours. Once it is done, I will be shown to the imperial chambers, and you will escort me through the halls until I am able get into my rooms and listen to my first councillor tell me what they want me to do the next day. It will be a strange day, and I will appreciate any help that you can offer.”
Dorium asked, “What happens the next day?”
“The official acknowledgement of me as empress. For that, I have another lovely gown by C’dallia. May I ask what talents you have?”
Perinio grinned, “I can remove my markings and use them for attacking.”
Agoth inclined his head. “I am able to generate extra limbs.”
“And I am a telepath who can broadcast and receive, as well as the recipient of a genetic defence system that you will find helpful if necessary. Is it impolite to ask what skills you possess, Duchess?”
She released one of the handgrips and drew with light in the air. It was a familiar face that smiled at them, well, familiar to her. Her mother’s face was the one she always drew when she needed consolation.
“That is my basic boring talent. I do have a last-minute self-defence attack but that is for emergencies only.”
Dorium and the others seemed fascinated by her mother’s face, so she quickly dissipated it. She didn’t want Agoth to crash the ship.
The tower of the Vexa Imperium was looming in the view screen, and it was time to prepare to face folk who wanted her dead. It wasn’t the first time.
When they touched down, her guards got to their feet immediately, squared their shoulders and formed around her in a triangle of protection.
The moment the imperial guard knocked on the Citadel shuttle, Agoth threw open the door.
“Duchess Saluthic, please come with us to the throne room for the test of the thorn.”
Syrella inclined her head. “Lead the way, Captain.”
He extended his hand to her, but Agoth blocked him. “We will keep her safe, please lead the way.”
Syrella felt a touch on her mind and kept her face blank as she answered Dorium, Yes?
Why does he keep trying to touch you?
Most of the guards here are second sons of the nobles, and they are looking to elevate their status by contracting with me to produce an heir.
His shock was palpable. They want to mate with you without even knowing you?
That is the Vexar way. It is not something I am looking forward to, but all legal children are born within contracts. I will have to choose the best of what I am offered, and I will need to do it soon.
There is a rush for you to have offspring?
If I am the honourable and correct empress, creating a bloodline is important and having an heir is even more so. Being a woman, only one child at a time is possible, so I am going to need to get to work on it as quickly as I can. I am not looking forward to it.
Why not?
I have lived my life among women. Men are a mystery to me and sex even more of one. When I hav
e to choose a mate, it will be the most depressing day of my life.
He ceased their conversation but nodded his head with a slight jerk.
They started walking and her skirt caused Dorium and Perinio to walk slightly wider than they would like. Agoth was walking ahead of her, and the imperial household guard surrounded them all.
Crowds in the courtyard stopped and stared as she walked, head high in the most effective assembly of guards in the history of Vexa. Syrella Loesh knew in that moment that she would not be forgotten.
The halls were smaller than she remembered them. Representatives from nineteen worlds, witnesses for the Alliance and the Nyal Imperium were all in the throne room, watching her entrance.
The folk who had touched the thorn before her were on display all right, their faces in portrayals of agony and their bodies turned to crystal. The last emperor was not the one who had pulled her into his lap. A young man with a sneer and a missing arm was sitting on the throne, and his hand gripped the arm of the throne with desperation though he was made of the same crystal as the others.
The household guard walked her to the steps of the throne, and from there, Agoth and Perinio stood on the lowest step.
The head of the imperial household came forward and rapped his staff against the floor. “I present as a candidate for empress, Syrella Loesh, Duchess of Saluthic, daughter of Duke Arnos and Syrella Loesh of Saluthic.”
“I accept the challenge of the thorn.” Syrella lifted her skirt and mounted the steps one by one.
Instead of reaching over the deceased occupant of the throne, she walked behind it, smiling at the image of Dorium on the third step, guarding the throne from all comers. It was sweet.
From inside her gown, she removed a tiny piece of fabric and licked it before cleaning the thorn. Three times in Vexar history, the new ruler had been given a toxic injection before the thorn had a chance to confirm.
Having done all she could, Syrella lifted her hand in the air, showed it to all and sundry, then she brought it down hard on top of the thorn. The spike pierced her palm and went deep into the flesh. She lifted her hand again and held it for examination by the witnesses.
The carved stone throne began to glow hot pink, and the crystalline structure of the previous emperor as well as the hopefuls began to pulse and crack. As one, they shattered into a fine powder that lifted, swirled and was absorbed by the throne.
Syrella had to pretend that it was precisely what she expected, but it was difficult. Now that the throne was clear, she took her seat and placed her arm on the rests. The glow of the throne grew and expanded until she was lit from behind, and her body felt nothing but the peace and warmth of the throne beneath her.
The head of the household came forward, rapped his staff again and introduced her. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Empress Syrella, the First. Long live the Empress.”
Dorium, Agoth and Perinio turned and faced her, kneeling on both knees. “Long live the Empress.”
Syrella leaned forward and whispered to her bodyguards, “I am counting on it, so make it happen.” She winked.
They returned to their feet and resumed their positions with the exception that Dorium moved to her right side on the third step.
The nobles began to line up and one by one, she greeted them as their new empress. It was a very long afternoon.
Chapter Six
The head of the household called an end to the introductions just after the sunlight had turned a charming shade of lavender. Syrella was exhausted, but she remained upright on the throne.
After the court was dismissed, the head of the household knelt before her. “Empress, I am Ikatti Hrfoth. I was the personal secretary of the Emperor Ukan during your first visit to Vexa, and I would be honoured if you considered me for that position now.”
Syrella cocked her head and remembered the sober man who stood calmly at the feet of the emperor. He had introduced them and made notes in his notebook while they had their audience.
“I remember you, Ikatti. You did your job well and didn’t flinch with the rest of the court when I jumped up on the throne. Well done.” She smiled. “Is there somewhere we can discuss this, and I can get a meal?”
He inclined his head. “Of course, Your Imperial Highness. Dinner is waiting in your private dining room.”
“I invite you to dine with me if it does not clash with other plans that you have.”
Ikatti’s worn face lit with delight. “I am honoured. Perhaps you could tell me more about the guard you have collected around you.”
“They can tell you themselves. I do not speak for them. Shall we go?” She got to her feet, and the remaining imperial house guards snapped to attention.
The gown was indeed crinkled on her backside, and she grinned at her decision to remain standing until her butt hit the throne. Begin as you meant to go on. That was what her mother had told her.
As she walked down the steps, her guards took their positions around her. “Lead the way, Ikatti.”
He bobbed a quick bow and led the way through the palace halls to the imperial dining room.
The halls were as she remembered them, dark and lined with heavily veined marble, the occasional archway with a scurrying servant carrying something into the depths of the palace visible for an instant before turning a corner.
Syrella took it all in. She noted the hunch of fear in some of the female servants and some of the males as well. Everything she saw, she would deal with when she was able.
The dining room was set for one, but when Ikatti spoke softly to a hovering servant, four other places were set in a matter of minutes.
Dorium held her chair for her and assisted her into the seat at the head of the table before taking his own seat on her right hand. Ikatti took the seat at her left with Agoth and Perinio taking the next two chairs.
Ikatti frowned, “You eat with your servants?”
“They are not servants, Ikatti. They are guards. My life is in their hands, and so, I want them well fed and well rested. There is no good in expecting them to go without. It does not make sense.” Syrella was about to wash her hands in the basin held by a female servant when there was a touch on her mind.
Perinio first. He will know if there is a toxin.
She made a small jerk of acknowledgement, and with a smile, she directed the woman to begin making the rounds at the table with Perinio.
The young woman was nervous when she poured the water over Perinio’s hands, but he smiled kindly at her, and she blushed a hot gold. The tattoos on his hands flashed blue for an instant, a shift so fast that Syrella wasn’t sure she saw it. When Perinio sent the young woman to Agoth, she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t want to leave him.
Syrella waited, and when the young woman finally got to her, she washed her hands and thanked her as a dismissal. The woman bowed and backed away, scuttling back to the kitchen.
As the food appeared and Syrella asked Perinio to begin the meal, she turned her attention to Ikatti. “I would like to meet all of the palace staff tomorrow. I need to learn names and get a feel for what needs to be done and hear their ideas for improvement.”
Ikatti’s eyes widened. “You are serious?”
“I know that Emperor Ukan prized honesty, and I will do the same for my rule. How many folk were left to try the thorn, by the way?” She raised a brow. She had counted the crystal figures and done some math. The line of succession had gone around her. She was their last chance.
Ikatti blushed and looked down at his hands. “You are the last descendant of the line. It was discussed amongst the noble families that you not be brought in until there was absolutely no other choice.”
“I guessed as much. There were too many statues in the throne room for me to have come when my number was up. Is it my talent that is the trouble?”
Ikatti shrugged, glanced up at her and asked, “May I speak freely?”
“Of course. Be honest with me at all times, it will be easier on you.
The injury caused by the honesty will be my problem.”
“The fact that you are female is the greater part of the problem. We have not had an empress in seven hundred years. No one really worried about your talent. You draw pictures in light, there is nothing threatening there.”
Syrella smiled. “True. Perinio, how is the food?”
Perinio shoved one plate aside, but the others were all passed around the table. “The food is lovely. The cooks are to be complimented.”
They piled food on their plates, and Syrella took a few bites before asking Ikatti, “So, what is the next festival?”
“Day of the Dead occurs in two days, Empress. Your grandmother is here and has brought your father’s soul stone.”
A growing joy filled Syrella’s heart. “She brought the stone? I didn’t know that he generated one.”
“He did, but as she was at court at the time of his death, she claimed the right to his stone.”
Syrella nodded, “Set up a meeting with her tomorrow in the open court. She will give me that stone gladly and freely, or she will regret it.”
Dorium frowned, “You would threaten your grandmother?”
Syrella nodded. “I would. Ikatti can confirm that my grandmother, as contract breeder of my father had no legal right to the soul stone. The soul stone goes to the child of the deceased.”
“So, her claim on it…”
“Was to put me in my place or to gain some power by holding onto him. Many believe that they can gain power from the soul stones, and she has her husband’s and two deceased children in addition to my father’s.”
Agoth asked, “What is a soul stone?”
Sy finished her forkful of food. “The stone is taken from Vexa and polished into a small orb. It is placed in the mouth of the dying person, and when their soul flees the body, the stone holds the imprint. You pry the stone out and place it in a small cask, and it is given to the children of the dead.”
Perinio swallowed and asked, “What is the Day of the Dead?”