by Raquel Dove
Balthazar was only one hundred and fifty, much younger than the typical Lord Sultan. He was on the cusp of manhood and while no one doubted that he would one day be as powerful as his father, he was not yet so. He knew it, and everyone else knew it also.
He stood in the Grand Hall of the palace, staring silently at the throne where his father would sit and hold court. The room was massive, even by Devasi standards, and was built for one purpose. To impress. The gleaming white marble that his royalty was characterized by covered the floors and walls. Gold fixtures dangled from the vaulted ceiling, holding hundreds of candles that lit the room to a magnificent glow when parties were hosted here. Inlaid colorful marble formed detailed frescos of Devasi lore along two of the walls. It was a festive room that also conveyed the wealth and power of his people.
Balthazar's face was an emotionless mask, but underneath it a storm of anger raged. His father, the great and powerful Lord Sultan Sami, had reigned for over four hundred years. He should have reigned for another two at least, but instead he died a pitiful death.
Balthazar may not have reached his full potential yet, but he would not stand idly by and watch while would be usurpers vied for his throne. He had to act quickly if he was to secure his birthright. Just because he was the crown prince didn't mean that he would be anointed. Especially not at his young age, and with as many brothers as he had. Once he did that, he would expand his kingdom, and he would start with the Asuri. His father may have been powerful, and well respected, but he had grown too passive in his rule. Balthazar would never bow down to Lord Krishna as his father had. He lacked the power to take him on at the moment, but he would find a way to change that.
“Prince Balthazar,” Darius called as he came shuffling up behind him. “You summoned me?”
“Convene my father’s council,” Balthazar said, eyes still locked on the gilded dais the royal white cushions were set upon. Without waiting for a response he stalked out of the room.
The most coveted position in the kingdom was that of the Divan. It was his responsibility to carry out the orders and will of the Lord Sultan. Darius was a very stern man, short and balding, that cared nothing for frivolous luxuries. Despite being a remarkably studious man, his clothes were often disheveled and entirely out of fashion. He cared only about the kingdom, and serving his Lord Sultan to the best of his abilities
There were three men, Darius being one, and one woman on the Lord Sultan’s Council. The eldest member of the council was a war hardened, crotchety old man by the name of Baal Arash. His hair was cropped short around his head and he usually sported a healthy amount of black stubble on his jaw. His duty was to the general security of the kingdom as well as over all the military, second only to the Lord Sultan in command.
“The boy is too young to claim the throne,” Baal said, watching the other members of the council closely for their reactions.
“What do you propose we do, give the crown to you?” Darius asked, peeking up at him through bushy raised brows. He knew what the old man was thinking. Baal would seize power for himself if given the chance, even though he didn't have a lick of royal blood in him. Darius would not let that happen. He had been the right hand of Sultan Sami, and had a direct hand in rearing the princes of the kingdom. Balthazar was young, but he was powerful and had been raised from the moment of birth to take this position. It was his birthright, even though he would now have to fight for it.
The heavy wooden double doors to the council chambers opened and Balthazar entered the room dressed in a white silk tunic, a pair of white pants that were fitted at the calf and ballooned comfortably around his thighs, and a simple pair of white leather sandals on his feet. White was a color reserved for royalty, and only the Lord Sultan was allowed to dress entirely in white. Balthazar was sending a very clear message to the council and everyone else who might see him in the palace. He settled himself cross-legged on the thick pile of cushions at the head of the council table and took a moment to inspect the council members.
“Baal,” he began, his eyes narrowing onto him, “You were responsible for the security in this kingdom. Your ineptitude has caused us all to suffer a great loss.”
“Prince Balthazar,” Baal said, emphasizing the word prince. “I would like to know what authority you have to convene this council. You are but a prince in this kingdom.”
“I became the acting Lord Sultan the moment my father was murdered in his bed, under your watch,” he bit out. His face was a placid mask but his charcoal eyes burned red hot as he continued to glare at Baal. “You are dismissed from your position. Be thankful I am allowing you to keep your life.”
Baal remained frozen on his cushion, not believing what had just happened. He looked to the other council members, but they avoided his gaze. Certainly this could not be happening. When he walked in this room, he had a plan all ready to execute that would lead to his eventual accession to the throne. He knew at that very moment that he had not only underestimated Balthazar, but the other members of the council as well. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. He rose from his cushion and stalked out of the room. This was not over.
“Summon Tavi,” Balthazar said looking over to Darius once Baal had left the council chambers. “He is to replace Baal as Lord Adviser.”
Tavi was a half-brother of Balthazar. His mother was a concubine of Sultan Sami, and because of this status he would never be eligible for the throne. The half brothers had shared many tutors as they grew up and everyone in the kingdom knew how close they were.
“My Lord,” Arastoo spoke up, as Darius hurried out of the room to fetch Tavi. “I feel I must bring up an issue of dire importance.”
Arastoo Delshad was a lanky man that had a knack for dressing with flare. His white hair was combed neatly around his pale face and his purple eyes looked back at Balthazar unblinking. He was the Lord Enchanter, and very good at what he did. Magic could be an incredibly powerful force, and even though Arastoo had no physical strength, which was so uncharacteristic of the Devasi, his abilities with magic were enough to elevate him to nobility.
“You must hold a Taj Festival and be anointed. Until then, you are not officially Lord Sultan,” Arastoo said. “I'm afraid you're orders will not be very effective until such a time.”
“I am aware of that,” Balthazar replied, waving off his concern. He knew what the Lord Enchanter was really interested in, and it wasn't the legalities of his reign. “I will entrust the details to you.”
“Of course, My Lord,” Arastoo replied with a toothy grin on his face. “I will plan for it to commence two moons hence. It will be a grand affair, worthy of your house.”
“That is not soon enough,” Balthazar said, “I want it done in two weeks.”
“Two weeks, My Lord?” Arastoo’s face fell. To orchestrate and execute a festival of that magnitude in such little time would be quite a feat. “That is not nearly enough time.”
“Do as I say,” Balthazar said, his voice holding a chill that sent a shiver down Arastoo’s spine. “And don't question me again. Or you'll find yourself joining Baal.”
“Of course, My Lord,” Arastoo said as he shrunk back into his cushion.
The only woman on the council was the Khaja, Adira Parastu. It was extremely rare for a woman to hold such a position. Her chief duty was the overseeing of all the palace staff, organizing them to ensure that the palace ran smoothly. She did a good job, but the real reason she held the position was Sultan Sami’s personal affections toward the Lady. Adira had been his wet nurse and nanny when Sami was an infant. She was old now, with peppered hair and a round, wrinkled face. One look at her easily showed her exhaustion with her position, though her stubborn nature would never let her resign on her own. Balthazar could see that her brown eyes were bloodshot from her mourning the untimely death of Sami.
“Lady Adira,” Balthazar said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “You are in your older years now, with a daughter in the palace harem, is that correct?”<
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“Yes your Majesty, my family was honored with my daughter’s induction as a concubine to Sultan Sami,” she replied humbly with a bow in her head.
“If you would so desire, you may resign your position on the council and take a new position as the Lady of the Harem. You will reside there and oversee the concubines and wives of my father.”
Lady Adira was speechless. This was a great honor for her. No one but the most beautiful of women, or most noble, lived in the harem. She was neither, but she would relish the opportunity to be so close to her daughter.
“My Lord, you honor me greatly. I will do my best to ensure that the ladies of your father are well looked after.”
Tavi entered the room, the Divan following closely behind him, and they both settled into their cushions at the table.
“My Lord,” Tavi spoke up, bowing his head deeply. “I am honored by your generosity.”
“It is not generosity, Tavi. I am confident that no one is better suited for the position,” Balthazar replied as he reached into a pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment, tossing it onto the table before his half brother.
“There was a crudely drawn map of the Palace found beside father's body,” Balthazar said, his eyes locking with Tavi's.
“So we have a traitor,” Tavi replied, picking up the paper. He lifted it to his nose, and took a deep inhale. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the faint scent that remained on the parchment.
“An Asuri assassin,” Balthazar said, confirming his brother’s already evident suspicions. “I expect you to find out who helped him.”
“Of course,” Tavi said, pausing before speaking again. “I would also like to personally secure our borders.”
“As I suspected you would,” Balthazar replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
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