CalledtoPower

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by Viola Grace


  “Here on Vexa, the crystal of the throne and the mountain under the palace resonates with the soul stones, and you can speak to the souls of your loved ones. If she claimed the stone here and remained on Vexa, she has been able to speak to my father at least eight times. That is time enough. It is my turn now.”

  Ikatti had a regretful expression on his face. “She was not talking to Duke Arnos. She was talking to her other son, Lord Nevic.”

  Fury boiled inside Syrella, an emotion that she tried to hold back in the course of most days. Her skin glowed and sparked with power. “I see.”

  Dorium looked cautiously at her, “Highness? You are giving off a little more psi energy than usual.”

  She subverted her irritation and smiled serenely. “You are correct. I will deal with my irritation in a nice, public forum. I believe it is time for Vexa to meet the real me.”

  Her guards were worried, and Ikatti was curious. “Highness, what do you mean?”

  “I have spent my life learning everything the Citadel had to teach, and I am not going to be shy about using it.”

  Dorium gave her a calming look, but she was in no mood. She made her way through the food and waited while the next course was brought out. She didn’t taste any of it, rage was burning through her and her grandmother was the focus.

  Her grandmother was keeping her family from her and that was not something Syrella was going to allow. Begin as you mean to go on.

  Chapter Seven

  Syrella was so tired that she passed out the moment that her guards pronounced her bedroom clear. She had unlaced the constriction of the corset as she walked to the bed and simply flopped on top of the covers still wearing the silver silk.

  Her dreams were full of her being a child and running down the imperial hallways looking for her parents. Waking in a foul mood was unavoidable.

  A knock at her door brought her up, and she winced at the pain of her head due to the pins holding her hairstyle in place. “Come in.”

  A timid, young woman came in and bowed. “Good morning, Your Imperial Highness. I am Mai, I am your maid until you make your own selection.”

  “Hello, Mai. In the privacy of my quarters, you may call me Ma’am.” She groaned and started to move off the bed.

  “Ma’am, did you not sleep well?”

  “Not particularly. My memories of Vexa are not pleasant, so I am guessing I will have to make new ones.” Sy stretched and flexed, the gown slipping precariously from her breasts.

  “Ma’am, may I draw you a bath?”

  “No, I will have a quick shower. Can you lay out one of my day gowns?” She lifted sore arms and started to pull out her pins.

  “Ma’am, please sit at the dressing table, and I will remove those. You really do not look very well.”

  Knowing when she heard good advice, Syrella sat at the dressing table, and Mai pulled the pins out swiftly, without comment. Her hands were gentle as she eased Sy’s hair down and massaged her scalp, the headache faded immediately under a wave of warmth.

  Sy fought the urge to twist and stare. Mai was a healer. “So, has the attitude toward talents changed at all in the last twenty years?”

  Mai continued her massage for a moment and then lifted a brush. “No, Ma’am. They are still cut out of inheritances and sentenced to lives on the fringes of society.”

  “I hope to change that. The skills given to us are given for a reason. We should not hide them but rather use them for the betterment of our societies. I wish mine was more useful.”

  “You would not have gained the throne if they had any other choice, Ma’am. You know that, do you not?”

  “I do know it, but I also know that the throne was waiting for me, and it welcomed me with the recognition of an old friend. It hurt more this time.”

  Mai paused, and her golden gaze met Sy’s green one in the mirror. “So, you really touched the thorn when you were a child? I thought that was folklore.”

  Syrella smiled as Mai finished unlacing her, her arms at her sides and the boning in the corset kept it from collapsing, but if she let it go, it would drop. “No, not folklore. I was summoned with my father when I was a child. Duke Saluthic and his heir were wanted at court, but the emperor asked me if there was anything I wanted, and I wanted to never be forced to come back to Vexa. He’s dead, and here I am.”

  “There have been four emperors since Ukan. Most have not been as compassionate and none have been as wise.” Mai stood back and bowed her head.

  Sy got to her feet with a groan and walked into the lav, pausing only to say, “He was a very good man.”

  A shower and scrubbed teeth later and she felt almost normal. Wrapped in a sheet of fine linen, she returned to her bedroom where Mai immediately took charge of her, bustling her into undergarments, wrapping her in a robe and drying her hair.

  Mai’s speed at arranging hair was truly amazing. Sy commented, “You have done this sort of thing before?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Two emperors ago, I did the hair for all of his mistresses. It was a full-time effort as he often had several of them in his bed at one time, and they all had to look their best.” Mai’s lips tightened, but she didn’t pass her frustration on to Sy, she pinned, rolled, pinned and finally smiled. “You look lovely, Ma’am.”

  “I know that I don’t match the Vexar assessment of beauty, but thank you.” Sy groaned. “Back at home, I would be starting classes right about now.”

  Mai blinked, “If I may ask, what did you teach?”

  “Self-control and patience in the form of cheese making, collecting eggs and tending to bees. Many talents lose sight of their impact on others, and by interacting with more simple creatures, they gain insight as to their effect on the people around them. For example, a healer who is not allowed to use her talent gains confidence and control of her talent while working with goats who have bruised or broken limbs.”

  Mai blushed. “I can see how that would work. I had heard that you were sent away but rumour was that it was the equivalent of a finishing school similar to that of the nobles.”

  Sy stood and let the robe slip from her shoulders.

  Mai presented the gown and helped her into it.

  “It isn’t a finishing school, it is a training academy. It takes whatever you possess as a talent and it helps you gain awareness of its scope and power. Some folk who enter the Citadel are hired by it to work on differing worlds in a variety of capacities. Knowing how the nobles come to court for the most petty of squabbles, I believe I am going to be contacting the Citadel for additional personnel soon.”

  Mai drew the corset on the green gown tight. “Will there be instructors among those that you call?”

  “Not precisely, but I am willing to create control curriculums for any talents who wish to contact me quietly.” Syrella breathed slowly as the bodice tightened and locked her into the gown.

  “Thank you, Ma’am. Your guards and Secretary Ikatti are waiting outside.”

  Mai’s expression shifted when she mentioned Ikatti, and Syrella could have smacked herself. “He’s your grandfather.”

  Mai flinched. “I…”

  “Don’t worry. You didn’t say anything. If I had been more awake earlier, I would have commented on it. You have his eyes.” She smiled.

  “You don’t mind, Ma’am?”

  “Not particularly. It is good to know that I can speak to you in private and he will hear our conversations. It gives me a less-than-public outlet to air my true opinions. You do not need to tell him what I say, but knowing what I know, I will not mind if you do tell him.”

  Mai’s shoulders sagged with relief. “He is concerned about your state of mind. He is worried that you will do something that you regret when you see Lady Nevic.”

  Sy laughed and rustled her skirts as she turned from side to side to view her reflection. The green made her skin creamy white and brought out the bits of gold in her green eyes. “You have done a good job, Mai. I look as respectable as I can get.”

&n
bsp; “Shall I hang up the rest of your gowns while you are out?” Mai was looking a lot less like a whipped dog after their hour together.

  “Please. I have no idea what today will bring, but I am sure that I will need a new gown tomorrow. If the seamstress knew I hadn’t unpacked them immediately, she would have ripped me to pieces, I am sure.”

  Mai’s eyes widened, but she held her questions as Syrella left her bedroom and walked into the receiving room.

  Her guards got to their feet, and Ikatti smiled. “You are up early, Empress.”

  “Mai was most helpful with my preparations, it went quickly. Shall we have breakfast and discuss what is on my agenda for the day, Secretary?”

  Dorium stepped forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand while his mind touched hers. Good morning. There is a line of suitors who are trying to make a bid for breeding rights. May I put myself in the running?

  I…I hadn’t thought of you as a breeding partner, more of a consort. She blurted the first thing that entered her mind, and she winced as his mouth twisted in pleased amusement.

  He straightened and inclined his head. Flattering, Empress. Very flattering.

  Ikatti cleared his throat, “Highness? Breakfast?”

  Confused and flustered, she followed Agoth and Ikatti back to the private dining room.

  Perinio and Dorium were behind her on each side, and she was feeling slightly less like a stranger in a place she did not belong. She had friends around her, and it was helping her ease into the experience.

  She was about to shake the Vexar Empire up and see what fell out, and it meant a lot to have people she trusted around her. It wasn’t family, but it was as close as she was going to get.

  Chapter Eight

  Ikatti cleared his throat after Perinio had tried all of the food. “Why does that guard eat first?”

  The men turned to her to see what she was going to say.

  “Men that size you have to feed before you end up on the menu. It is just good sense.”

  Perinio laughed and bent his head to his meal. The contamination he had tasted the night before wasn’t toxic, it was an ovarian stimulator. He had briefed her once they were in her rooms, and she had not been surprised. If she was the last of the only bloodline that could sit on the throne, they wanted her to begin producing as many children as possible.

  They ate breakfast, and while she enjoyed a cup of yip—the local morning beverage of choice—Ikatti got down to business.

  “Your interview with your grandmother is scheduled in one hour, and after that, nobles will begin bringing gifts and those who have a male to offer you for breeding your heir.” He winced as he said the last words.

  She raised her hand. “It is fine. I was expecting it, though I thought there were some beneath me on the bloodline. I will attempt to bring in my heir within a year.”

  Dorium raised a brow, and she fought her blush.

  When he knocked on her mind, she answered, Well, you made the offer.

  I know. I just wasn’t aware that I was on the clock.

  Being consort to an Empress is hard work, are you up to it?

  I am if you are.

  Passive aggressive. She mentally stuck her tongue out at him, and he choked on his yip.

  The silent banter was fun, but she was glad that he always knocked before beginning a conversation. It would be odd to have someone cracking into her mind whenever they wanted to. Her defences would kick in and that would not be a subtle thing.

  She sipped at another cup, and when everyone had eaten their fill and they were all looking alert and ready for a stressful day, she had to ask, “Where did you all sleep, Dorium?”

  “Ikatti had rooms next to yours arranged for us. We slept in shifts and are now ready to serve, Empress.” Dorium inclined his head respectfully.

  She sighed. At the Citadel, she had had a title that nobody used, and she had enjoyed it. On Vexa, she had an unwanted title, and it was pinned firmly on her when she wanted to hear her own name just once to let her know she was still inside the new empress.

  Syrella nodded to everyone, “Well, it is time to get my father back. Shall we?”

  She got to her feet, and they all rose. Her collection of guards escorted her to the throne room, and it did not feel as alien today as it had the day before.

  Her throne hummed happily when she swept her gown out of the way and took a graceful seat. The glow coming from the throne was a happy lavender with an occasional wandering green, and it was so soothing that she was immediately at ease.

  The court was holding its breath, and Syrella knew why. Her grandmother had entered the room just as Syrella sat down.

  Lady Algiatha Nevic had her head up with pride and it suddenly struck Syrella that her grandmother didn’t know how little Sy valued her opinion.

  When Lady Nevic made it to the base of the throne she stood confidently. An unbelieving hiss rolled through the crowd, and suddenly Lady Nevic was a little less smug.

  Ikatti announced her, “Lady Algiatha Loesh Nevic, Your Imperial Highness.”

  Sy straightened, “Lady Nevic, I hear that you have possession of my father’s soul stone.”

  Her grandmother paled, “I do, Syrella.”

  “With the Day of the Dead approaching, I would like to have it. As you can imagine, a life without the soul of my father at my disposal has been difficult.”

  Algiatha’s hand made a slight motion to her pocket. “I am sure it was, but he was my son.”

  “Not your only son, and the way of the Vexar has been to hand the stone to those who need it, to the children of those who have passed. Do you feel you can rewrite tradition?”

  Algiatha got the cruel look that Syrella remembered from her childhood when her grandmother handed her a basket with a venomous helik in it. The bite had almost killed her, and her father barred Algiatha from the property that day.

  “It was the decision of the emperor to give me the soul of my son.”

  “And it is the demand of the empress that you surrender the stone to me. Now.”

  Algiatha grew sly. “I don’t have it on me.”

  Fed up and determined, Sy focussed her power and clapped her hands together once. A flare of light froze the entire court. Humming to herself, Sy moved past Dorium, down the stairs and she reached for the pocket that Algiatha had given away earlier. Four soul stones were in the pocket, and with the same idle humming Syrella took the stones, returned to the throne and carefully arranged her skirts to reproduce her earlier sprawl. She took the stone that held her father’s soul and pressed it to her lips. A happy warmth spilled from the rock, and she sighed as she discovered another secret of her wily father.

  The other three stones were cool in her hand. The souls inside did not call to her, and she placed them next to her after she tucked her father’s stone next to her heart in the safety of her corset.

  She raised her hands and clapped again. Folk who had been moving when she froze them jerked slightly and she looked to the mother of her father to make her query. “What would you do, Algiatha, if someone took the souls of your sons and refused to return them?”

  “That would never happen. They are always with me.” Lady Nevic jerked her head high.

  “It is funny then that if they are always with you, you would not have my father with his half-brothers. Why would you leave him if you claim that your sons are always with you?” Sy leaned on the arm of the throne. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?”

  Lady Nevic became nervous, she shifted from foot to foot, and her hand made the furtive shift toward the pocket once again. “Of course not, Syrella.”

  Sy frowned, “It is most peculiar that a woman who insisted on being known to me only as Lady Nevic would forget that I am bearing a title. If anything, you should address me as Duchess Syrella of Saluthic, but I believe that Empress or Your Imperial Highness is the proper form of address. I don’t even let folks I like use my name.”

  Lady Nevic got angry. “You kno
w, I believe that I lost your father’s soul stone.”

  “Funny that. I just found three stones, and they seem to have the same twisted vibe as you.” She lifted the stones in her hand and clacked them together.

  Dorium turned slightly to her and knocked on her mind.

  She quirked her lips and answered, Yes?

  What happened? I can feel that something has occurred here. There is power in the air.

  I will explain my secondary talent to you later.

  Can you tell me now?

  Fine, I froze all the living creatures here with a burst of power, picked her pocket to get my father back and then let everyone resume.

  That’s what it felt like. He chuckled mentally, but there was no expression on his face.

  She blinked slightly and turned her attention back to Algiatha who was being held back by Agoth and Perinio.

  “Give them back, they are mine!”

  Sy arched a brow. “You are not entitled to any of them. They all had children of their own, including one of your surviving sons. Ikatti, does she not have a surviving son, and do the sons who died not have families of their own?”

  “Please, give them back. I need them.”

  Syrella paused and lifted her hand for silence. She knocked on Dorium’s mind, and she saw his shoulders tighten.

  Yes, Empress?

  Very funny, call me Syrella when we speak, please.

  What do you need?

  Can you scan her, and if she had a hand in her sons’ deaths, can you shift your left elbow?

  You will need to ask her the question to bring the information into her mind. I can’t scan deeply.

  Will do. Thank you.

  “Algiatha, I wonder that you have flouted tradition and basic morality to keep not only your husband but your offspring. Were you there when they died?”

  It wasn’t surprising when Dorium’s left elbow shifted.

  “Secretary, I wish you to contact the children of the Nevics and ask them if they want their fathers’ soul stones.”

  There was a stirring in the back of the court. “I want my father.” The voice came through before the young woman could be seen. She was a physical clone of Algiatha but had none of the visible bad nature that their shared grandmother gave off in waves.

 

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