by M. D. Laird
When she saw some of the orders use the quorum for their personal gain, Eve began to regret championing democracy. She was also starting to suspect that the alliance’s issues with the Imperium had been primarily financial. Eve was trying to reinstate the tax system that was installed by the Imperator and it was met with hostility from the wealthier orders. Despite the Imperator’s obvious flaws, Eve thought many of his economic changes had made Arkazatinia a fairer continent and was disappointed that her alliance would not consider them. She had argued that they could provide more public services and improve the standard of living for everyone. However, her opinions were dismissed when she was once again outvoted. With the intention of bringing it up again in the future, she let the matter drop and focussed on the task of improving sanitation.
The distribution of wealth had to be considered when planning the projects, especially as the Impærielas Treasurer sprouted a grey hair and a mouthful of colourful language with every penny Eve spent. This had meant the project had progressed much slower than she had hoped. Despite the extra expense and the complaints from the leads, the improvements received positive comments from the populace and Eve felt that made the grumbles more than worthwhile.
November had arrived, and the weather in Arkazatinia had turned icy cold. Eve was aware that her second Christmas as the Crown was fast approaching. With her Crown duties and training, Eve had found very little time to visit her family. If she were honest, she could have visited more as she managed to find time to spend with Will, but she tended to avoid her family as she despised that every conversation she had with them was another layer of lies on top of an already brimming pile.
The hominem had given the Impærielas a few days break from training as they were celebrating an annual festival. The hominem were the only people to observe the Festival of Hiems—the winter festival—where they spent several days making offerings to higher powers in exchange for a mild winter that would spare their animals.
Eve took advantage of the break and made plans to visit home for a few days with the intention of spending quality time with her family and spending some of the funds from her house sale which had finally completed two months earlier and were sitting in her Lycean bank account. Thalia had paid Eve’s mortgage for her until her house was sold and she had declined Eve’s offer of repayment.
Eve loaned an outrider from the Procnatus and left for home in the company of the Queen’s Guard. Her guards for her trip were angels provided by the Guild of Michæl and demons from the Guild of Astaroth. Her guards subtly took shifts in keeping their eye on her and dutifully sat in the corner of the restaurant during her family meal, followed her around shop after shop, and stood guard outside her parent’s house. Though her guards were not bothered by the cold, she did invite them inside for a hot chocolate once her parents had retired to bed.
Eve had enjoyed her time at home more than she expected and was feeling quite sad about her return to Arkazatinia. She was relieved not to have to lie to everyone who asked her what she was doing and to make excuses every time someone suggested that they would make the trip to Nottingham and visit for a few days.
Her last day was a Sunday and Eve had taken her family for a meal at a local pub where Will had joined them. Her mother was thrilled that they were together and was very vocal about how she had always believed they would make a great couple and he was much better than that awful Jason character who she had never liked. She hoped they would marry and have children. Eve smiled widely and did her best to hide the sadness that crept over her. Will gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand. The gesture made tears form in her eyes and she quickly brushed them aside.
Later Will helped Eve to load her things, including the ton of books she had bought, into the outrider. He turned after he had finished closing the boot to find her face etched with sadness and a wetness forming under her eyes.
“Hey,” he said, taking her in his arms as she sobbed into his chest.
“I wish it could be different,” she said. “I wish I could be normal, live here again and not be immortal.”
“I know,” he murmured.
“I want everything Mum wants to be true. I want to get married and have children, and grow old and have a full life as an ordinary person.”
“We can get married and have kids,” he said.
“I can’t have children.”
“We can adopt,” he said. “We can have a family.”
“That wouldn’t be fair to you or any children,” she said. “You deserve to have someone to grow old with.”
“Are you afraid you won’t want me when I’m an old man?” He smiled. “I’m not against having a young, hot chick for the rest of my life. I fancy myself as an old man in a smoking jacket with an attractive young woman on my arm.” She laughed and batted his arm before wiping her tears on her sleeve. “Look,” he said gently, “we can’t control the hand we’ve been dealt, but we can enjoy what we’ve got for as long as we can.”
“Just promise me something,” she said. “When you meet someone else, someone who you know you can love and have a real life with—please leave me. It will hurt, but it will hurt more if you miss out on your life for me.”
“Eve—”
“Just promise.”
“Okay,” he said, “but I can’t imagine that I will love anyone else more than you.”
She gazed into his eyes and smiled. “I love you too,” she said. She meant it. That warm, tender softness that covered her heart—that was love. It was not violent and frightening like Jason, and it was not conflicting and frustrating like Calab. It was easy and natural, and she felt pained that it would not last forever.
After dropping her luggage and shopping at the Guild of Impærielas, Eve returned the outrider to the Guild of Procnatus and called in to see Thalia before she left.
“Your Majesty. How was the trip?” asked Thalia, putting down the book she was reading. She rose from the sofa and greeted Eve with a slight bow as she entered her quarters.
“Good, thank you. It was nice to see my family.”
“Something is bothering you,” Thalia observed.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s just adjusting to being immortal while still having a mortal family.”
Thalia nodded. “It gets easier with time,” she said. Eve gave a weak smile though she did not say anything more and Thalia did not pry any further. “I have your invitation here for the Christmas party; I have one for Lord Ezra though I imagine he will decline.”
“He may surprise you,” said Eve. “He appears to be getting along very well with Queene Orrla. Well…I don’t think they’ve gotten as far holding hands yet, but for the steely Lord Ezra, that’s practically marriage.”
Thalia laughed. “It would certainly be nice to have the Impærielas join the party, feel free to invite any others you like. We should all ally ourselves. I was going to mention this at the CRM, but I’ve heard unsettling rumours from the east that the dark alchemists are allying themselves with the witches. They have been estranged for millennia.”
“Is there ever a moment’s peace in Arkazatinia or is it always at war?”
“You have joined us at an unfortunate time. The dark alchemists have caused us no trouble since the last uprising until the recent events. I fear that they have not finished and it's hard to predict what they will do. We need all of the allies we can get… Speaking of which, how is the training?”
“It’s going well. I am slower to pick things up than the Impærielas, but I’m getting there…slowly.”
“It will come,” said Thalia. “The patriarchs have heard only positive reports from their men.”
“About the others, I’m sure. I largely fumble my way through training.”
“I have not heard that, granted they would not speak ill of their queen, but they have given a positive assessment all the same.”
Eve grinned. “I do give myself an A for effort though actual ability and
skills seem to be currently lacking. The Impærielas are a lot stronger than me, but I’m determined to succeed.”
“Your determination and the way you have taken to the Crown impresses me. Although I was anxious at first, I feel the changes you have made to the Crown are admirable. No other Crown has ever willingly relinquished control and allowed others to have rights. The alliance appreciates it, and even if you are never able to fight in battle, you will still be a respected leader.”
“Thank you,” said Eve beaming. “That is nice to hear.”
After catching up on recent gossip over a cup of tea, Eve left just before supper. As she walked along the corridor leading away from Thalia’s quarters, she spotted Calab heading her way. She forced away the jolt that rose in her stomach and tried to appear unmoved. Calab stopped as she approached and gave a slight bow.
“Your Majesty,” he said.
“Hi Calab,” she responded and kept walking, never slowing her pace and not turning to look back.
The next morning, Eve received a note in Calab’s familiar, elegant hand.
HM Queen Genevieve of Impærielas, Crown of Arkazatinia,
Would you do me the honour of joining me for supper this night at the hour of seven?
Ex Animo
Calab
Eve felt the familiar irk.
That was all I needed to do to get his attention, just ignore him. Well, if he thinks I am just going to come running then he can think again.
She replied to the note stating that she had other engagements but would join him in three nights’ time.
Eve arrived at Calab’s house by vector a little after seven with the deliberate intention of annoying him with her tardiness. She knew she should not play games with him, but she found him so frustrating that she could not help it. As she approached the front door, she spotted the gnome she had given him a few months earlier glaring at her from the garden. She wondered whether she should get a spiteful looking one for herself to keep it company.
“Your Majesty,” Calab greeted her pleasantly with a slight bow and invited her inside. His house was enormous, not guild enormous but far too large for one person. It was also exquisitely decorated in the similar style to Thalia’s quarters and Eve wondered if Thalia had had a hand in helping him.
“Hello, Calab,” she said, giving him her coat that he held out his hand for. She made no move to kiss his cheek this time, and he approached her as though he would kiss her, but changed his mind and instead hung her coat on the stand beside the door.
“Your home is beautiful,” she said.
“Thank you,” he replied, showing her through to the lounge. “I had a considerable salary as a prince, and I had saved much of it. I should be able to live comfortably for a few years though I shall need to find a job one day.”
“What sort of job?” she asked curiously. “I can’t imagine you with a job, perhaps you can serve people overpriced coffee.”
He smirked. “It may come to that. A lifetime of tempting people from righteousness does not provide very many transferable skills.”
Eve smiled; then said, “Are you going to show me around?”
“Where?”
“Your house.”
“Why?”
“I guess it’s a Lycean thing. When you visit a friend’s new home they give you a guided tour.”
“Is that for me to show off or for you to be nosey?”
“Both, I suppose.” She grinned.
“Well, come on then.” He smiled and took her on a tour.
The house was ostentatious and had far more space than he needed. He would have been able to have a few years off grinding coffee if he had bought something smaller. She understood why he had chosen it when she saw the enormous room he had fashioned into a library. It was as vast as the library at the guild and was the size of a small ballroom.
“The house used to be a small theatre,” Calab informed her. “I had it remodelled—this was the theatre which is why it’s so large.”
“It’s incredible,” she gasped. “It’s more beautiful than your guild library.”
“It was expensive, but I couldn’t resist.”
“So, none of the books at the guild library belonged to the other demons? They were all yours?”
“Yes, most demons—and angels for that matter—don’t like to read. I only started to read literature myself in the eighteenth century.”
“Really?” asked Eve, stunned. “Who inspired you?”
“Poets. I was working, and I followed my reckonee to the house of William Blake. They were arguing about something that Blake wanted to publish but was fearful of the consequences. It was called, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. The title intrigued me.
“It always amazes me how, when it is forbidden to speak of such things in Lycea, humans know anything at all about them. Usually, humans speak of discourse between Heaven and Hell and this title suggested otherwise which was unusual. I returned later and read the manuscript. It was not an accurate portrayal of Heaven or Hell, of course, but that wasn’t what interested me. It was the criticisms of accepted morality. Humans make up what is moral and what is not, and it generally does not match the morality of Heaven. Morals are arbitrary.”
“You mean they’re not important?”
“They’re important for humans to manage each other. Not all people are capable of self-rule and need to be ruled by others. This is often abused of course, and those who rule are not necessarily any more capable or any more moral. Human morals are not all covered by the decree, and many laws are contra bonos mores, against good morals. The decree does not evolve like human morals and laws do—it just is. I can’t say too much—it is against the rules to share the decree.”
“Would things you have done in the past breach the decree?”
Calab shifted uncomfortably. “Most certainly,” he said sadly. “I am not proud of that. Demons reckon against behaviour in others, but not ourselves. We are supposed to burn in Hell when we die whatever we do, I’m surprised we are not worse people.” He paused and smiled softly. “Heaven compromised with us, but it did not forgive us. I suppose I should be grateful; this change in me means I don’t have a place in Hell—unless I earn one of course.”
“I don’t think you will,” Eve said. “You’re a good man, Calab. You and my guards risk your lives for me knowing Hell awaits you anyway. That makes you all good men.”
Calab avoided her gaze. “We’re used to the idea,” he replied, dismissing her compliment as he always did. “And we’re obliged to protect you as part of our place within the Arkazatine community.”
She smiled at him, but his eyes did not meet hers. “You said that it is against the rules to share much information about Heaven and Hell,” she continued, “but what about the guardian book? It has information in there about seven sins and virtues and refers to another book called, The Princes of Hell.”
“The guardian book is full of inaccuracies, but it is against our decree to correct them too much. Correcting information in Lycea would be a more immense task and somewhat fruitless. Humans believe what they want to believe. Their ideas of morality have always waxed and waned, especially surrounding lovemaking. They pass through periods of hedonism followed by denial. The line from Blake that intrigued me the most said:
Prisons are built with stones of Law,
Brothels with bricks of Religion.”
“I remember the line, but I don’t know what it means.”
“I understand it to mean that the consequences are a result of the restrictions authorities impose. Humans decide what is right and wrong and prohibit accordingly. The prisons and brothels rose because of the prohibitions. It was a refreshing perspective, and I’d like to say that I was immediately enthralled, but it took some time. I gradually began to become interested in literature. I would pick up the odd book whilst on decree and read the occasional passage. Then I would borrow books from other Arkazatines. Eventua
lly, I started to build my own collection.”
Eve recalled the day she had quoted Blake at his guild, and he had acted strangely afterwards—why was that? Like all her interactions with Calab, it had left her puzzled. “This must be why you have the emotions that your peers don’t have.”
“Perhaps.”
“Thalia believes that you were somehow ‘gifted’ with the capacity for emotion, is it not more likely that you have tapped into them somehow with your reading?”
“It is possible, but the capacity for love was removed from us. If it was easy to open up through reading, then seeing the trials and tribulations and love and joy of people would have had the same effect.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “Or maybe you’re just more sensitive. Orrla tells me you have always been different. Either way, I am stunned to learn that that, despite your years, we were both inspired to love literature by the same poets.”
His gaze met hers and he smiled. It was a heartbreaking smile. The warmest she had ever received from him, and it made the hairs rise on her neck and her pulse quicken.
What am I doing?
She cursed at herself. She broke his gaze and caught his flicker of disappointment in her periphery. She moved away from him towards some prints that hung over the fireplace. “I presumed demons did not like art,” she said. “This is the first I have seen, aside from the sculptures of the god of wine that is.”
“I only have those because they are by Blake. I don’t really get art.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “Perhaps you have to have a capacity for emotion to appreciate it. I have emotions now, but it still escapes me. Maybe I have seen them too often.”
“‘Familiarity breeds indifference’ as Huxley says.”
Calab gave her a doleful smile. “Something like that,” he said sadly. “I have been looking at the world through a haze, and it has been less wonderful than it should have been. I wish I could look at it again with a new appreciation, but I feel that the opportunity is lost.” He seemed to feel her studying him and looked away before he led her from the library to the dining room.