Category: Blades of Ashes

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 12-2

    Mornings were beautiful on Sura Island. Azula loved watching the sunrise over the lake. He had taken to swimming early, before Alise and Ruri woke up. They worried too much when he was out in the lake during the day. Azula pulled himself up on the dock and sat on a bench to watch the beauty of the sun as it painted the sky with light.

    He could not believe five years had passed in this quiet, strange way. He wondered what their dad would say about all their progress on the island. Would Marius be happy, excited, and want to hold ten weddings at the same time?

    Azula chuckled at the thought and imagined his father would probably hold a hundred weddings at once. Marius Doriel always thought a flourishing clan meant marriages and children.

    Oh, how he missed that old man.

    Shaking his head, Azula grabbed the towel he had brought with him and put it over his head as he got up to walk to the house. He was met by Senin, who was waiting for him at the front entrance of the main house. Wiping his hair with the towel, he smiled at Senin.

    “What brings you out here so early?” Azula asked as he entered the foyer and crossed the great room to the staircase. Senin kept up with him, which made him realize Senin had something to say.

    “Azula, I came to tell you that there is a council meeting you can’t miss today,” Senin said as they reached the second floor.

    Azula’s room was the same one he had used since childhood, though the decor had changed with time. It started out as a boy’s room; now, it was a man’s room. It was decorated with utility-based furniture: a long couch and a comfortable bed. The closet was filled with work clothes and ceremonial clothes for when he needed to appear as the clan’s chieftain. The only thing that remained from his youthful days was a large worktable where Azula liked to tinker with joints.

    The worktable was by the large windows on the east side of the room, and the chair before it was modified to allow for comfortable sitting for when he got lost in his work. Azula turned toward the bathroom on the west side of the room, sliding the door open to enter the spacious bath. He turned on the water in the large copper bathtub, adjusted the temperature on the taps, and leaned on the counter where he kept his shaving items. Senin took a bowl from the counter, filled it with some of the water pouring into the bathtub, and brought it to the counter.

    Azula finished with the towel and placed it on the counter. He touched his chin and smiled when Senin pushed the chair by the counter closer to him.

    “Sit. I’ll help you shave,” Senin said, as he got a clean, small cloth from a shelf and busied himself finding the razor, the brush, the shaving oil, and the soap.

    “You’re spoiling me this morning,” Azula said as he settled in the chair, pulling the towel he had discarded around his shoulders.

    “I haven’t seen you for days,” Senin said. “The old miners are grateful you’ve been minding their health. The rail carts have reduced the strenuous work of carrying the mined ore from the top to the warehouse. Others enjoy taking the rail carts to the top mountain. There have been many gratitude vegetable baskets delivered to the kitchen downstairs. Alise believes you’re being courted by the younger ones.”

    “I’m happy the carts are of use,” Azula said, ignoring the remark about his marriage. He had no idea when he would face a decision on marriage with a clear mind.  He tilted his head back and closed his eyes as Senin covered his face with a warm towel. Azula sank into the anticipation of a clean shave as Senin prepared his tools.

    “What’s so special about today’s council?” Azula asked, as Senin took back the towel and started lathering his jaw.

    “We have two pressing issues,” Senin said with a sigh. “There is a girl named Laine who had a mishap at school. The council members can’t seem to agree on what they should do with her. Her mother asked me to ask you to listen to the case. Maybe you can intervene.”

    “Mm,” Azula said. “I’ll listen to the case. Is that the only reason you want me there?”

    Senin touched his shoulder to let him know to be still as he started shaving. Senin was fast in his movements. “The council members each have an opinion on the future of Sura Island. With Nerasa Kingdom offering us membership into their kingdom, there are those who have doubts. We need to find a lasting solution. I don’t think we can join Nerasa Kingdom so easily. We still need to worry about the Lyria Kingdom. The council needs you to mediate. Tempers run too high when they start discussing the future, especially between Juya and Wolfe Silverberry when they can’t agree on Lyria.”

    Azula winced at the mention of Wolfe. There was no way to console Wolfe. His son was gone, and perhaps the only way was to go to Lyria Kingdom, find the boy’s body, and give him a burial. But it would not heal the raw, jagged wound that Wolfe carried around. Letting out a soft sigh, he waited until Senin finished his shave. He cleaned up after, and Azula went to turn off the water in the tub. It had filled, and Azula was eager for a bath.

    “I don’t have the answers for Lyria Kingdom,” Azula said, looking at Senin. “I’ll come to the council meeting, but maybe we should all think about engaging the Lyria Kingdom for a resolution.”

    “Your mother told you not to seek revenge,” Senin said.

    “She did,” Azula said with a nod. “It doesn’t mean that we’re not owed answers. Maybe we can find a way to get them together. I’ll make sure to attend the council.”

    “Thank you, Azula,” Senin said, and turned to the counter as Azula stepped out of his trousers and sank into the copper bath. Senin cleaned the brush he used to soap Azula’s jaw and the blade. He put away everything and took the dirty water in the bowl with him. “I’ll see you at the council room in the village hall at ten today.”

    Azula relaxed in the bathtub with his eyes closed, and then, just as he was drifting into a doze, a face he hadn’t thought about in so long filled his mind’s eye. It was Raithion Maenaer, Draeya General… no, Draeya Prince now. It was that day on the balcony at an inn in Port City.

    Draeya General… Azula hesitated over the thought, then shrugged.

    Draeya General had looked at him with amusement and exasperation. How handsome he had looked, his green eyes so vibrant and painfully difficult to ignore. His heart ached at the memory because he sometimes wished he had not stepped out to meet Draeya General. Maybe then his father would have survived.

    Shaking his head, Azula sat up and concentrated on bathing seriously, using the soap Alvas made with frankincense and tea tree. When he was clean from head to toe, he drained and rinsed the tub before he grabbed a freshbath towel and stepped into his room to dress.

    He ate breakfast with his mother, Alise, and Ruri. After breakfast, he hurried to the workshop to check on the last of the rails he was forging to finish the final stretch of the tracks. He was just getting into the rhythm of the work when Ruri came running into the workshop accompanied by one of the school teachers.

    “Godfather, Mom is looking for you,” Ruri said, taking his hand and leading him out of the workshop. The teacher smiled in greeting.

    “Ms. Alise sent us up here to remind you of the council meeting,” the teacher said.

    Azula laughed at Alise’s gentle demand for his time and allowed Ruri to lead him outside to one of the rail carts. He lifted the boy into the cart and they sat on the bench. The teacher sat in the second rail cart, and Azula gave her a polite nod before he shifted the forward lever, and the rail carts started moving along the rails, heading down to the village center, where the hall was located. 

    Ruri let out excited squeals as they sped along the rail, winding down the mountain side until they reached the village center. Azula stopped the cart and held on to Ruri as he climbed out of the rail cart. Carrying his nephew, Azula walked toward the village hall.

    Everyone they met greeted Azula with wide smiles and nods. Azula responded to each one, getting help from Ruri.

    “Morning, Your Highness.”

    “Morning,” Ruri would say at the same time as Azula.

    “Hope your day is good, Your Highness.”

    “You too,” Ruri and Azula said, making people chuckle.

    “Is Ruri my little parrot this morning?” Azula asked as they entered the hall.

    “Mom says I need to learn how to be kind,” Ruri said.

    “But you’re the kindest,” Azula said as they headed to the council room. 

    The village hall had morphed in the past years and now housed different government offices as well as the council office where the clan’s council met on business.

    Alvas met him before he entered the hall and took Ruri from him. Azula kissed the boy’s cheeks and entered the council room to find most of the members waiting for him. Everyone stood to greet him and, for a moment, the sense of ceremony stunned him. He was twenty-five this year and somehow, in the past five years, he had gained the respect of all the council members; he could not stop them from standing when he walked into a room. It was humbling and frightening at the same time.

    Azula sat at the head chair of the long rectangular table in the room. When everyone arrived, the council meeting started and the men and women who helped manage the clan began a lively discussion.

    Azula watched them discuss shipments to Nerasa, harvesting plans for the rice fields that had grown in the past five years, and the recruiting process of new warriors. Then, Senin met his gaze when they started discussing a student who had hurt her fellow students while mixing chemicals in the smelting workshops at school.

    So many troubles. Azula sighed and listened to the case with a sense of amusement.

    “Your Highness, what do we do about Laine?” Lasma asked, turning to look at him with expectation. The fact that she used his title was enough to tell him that she wanted him to give this issue his all. “She’s hurt other children. The children’s parents want an answer or…”

    “Retribution against a child,” Azula cut in. “I don’t know what to say to that. Does she want to keep mixing chemicals?”

    “What does that have to do with anything?” Juya asked. “She’s dangerous. She should stay away from the chemicals in the workshop at school if she can’t observe safety precautions.”

    “Does she like it or hate it?” Azula persisted, looking at Alvas, who managed all the education cases that came to the clan council.

    “She seems to enjoy it and has been depressed by the idea of not being able to go to the school smelting workshop,” Alvas said.

    “Then send her to my workshop to work with Heng. He smelts metal for the rail tracks. She can help, learn, and test as much as she wants. If the work interests her, let her get a job there,” Azula said. “It will pull Laine out of the school workshop. The parents won’t worry about an accident and Laine can test her abilities. What do you think?”

    Alvas smiled and nodded while Juya spoke up.

    “You’re rewarding her wrongs,” Juya said.

    “No. I’m redirecting her talent,” Azula said, meeting Juya’s gaze. “Was anyone damaged by the accident she caused?”

    “No,” Alvas said. “The kids ran off when the mixture she made exploded. The only thing that was damaged was the worktable.”

    “Then,” Azula grinned, “she can work with Heng in the workshop to repay the school for the worktable. Maybe Heng can teach her how not to have an accident.”

    “Sounds good,” Lasma said in agreement.

    Juya grumbled, but he nodded his agreement.

    “Now that Laine’s matter is resolved, we need to discuss the Nerasa Kingdom,” Tanya Nuovis, the primary Sura General, said. “Their ships have been patrolling closer to our waters. Are we planning on changing our allegiance to the Nerasa Kingdom?”

    Azula settled in for a discussion he had been avoiding for days.

    “Everyone in the council has an opinion on the future of this island,” Azula said. “Why don’t we all share our thoughts? I’ll pose the question: Should we allow the Nerasa Kingdom’s gentle annexation or find a way to renew our ties with the Lyria Kingdom to stop Nerasa?”

    “There are scars that need a sane explanation,” Alvas said without prompting, looking around the long table. “Families lost their loved ones. Some are still missing. None of us know if they are alive or dead. We have not had the courage to venture into Lyria Kingdom for answers. Perhaps we should try to visit Lyria and see if we can find the answers.”

    “I second Madam Alvas’s opinion,” Wolfe Silverberry said, meeting Azula’s gaze. “I run your security when you’re traveling in Nerasa, Your Highness. I have helped General Tanya strengthen our defenses. The work is good, but I have not forgotten what happened five years ago. It is good that Sura Island has grown strong, but… I still hope I can bring my son home daily.”

    Azula nodded, understanding Wolfe’s loss would need true closure.

    “There are questions we never got answers to,” Senin said, his tone gentle. “I have many requests from family members who lost people in Lyria. They want answers I don’t have. We should try to formally close these requests. Perhaps we can send an envoy to Lyria for answers.”

    “Lyria Kingdom is a dream,” Juya said, shaking his head, his gaze on Alise. “It wasn’t easy getting out of there. How can we send people there in good conscience? They murdered us like dogs on the streets. There is no guarantee that the Lyria Kingdom’s government has changed its stance.”

    “I agree with Juya,” Alise said, her voice soft, laden with sadness, her thoughts clearly on Yemin and their father, Marius. “There is no guarantee that they won’t murder us on sight.”

    “We don’t need to go as our true selves,” Kalas said. “We can choose a team to disguise themselves and land on Lyria Kingdom as though we are from Nerasa Kingdom. It would be easy to find the answers.”

    “Perhaps,” Magnus said, finally speaking, his fingers tapping on the table. “I don’t know that it is the right way to approach this. The clan seeks redemption. They no longer have to worry about surviving; now, they have time to think about the injustice. A covert infiltration won’t heal the scars. We need a formal engagement with the Basileus for any meaningful closure.”

    Azula glanced at Lasma. His mother gave him a helpless glance and smiled. “I have my own reservations about facing off with the nobles of Lyria Kingdom, but… the clan needs answers. I—I think that Magnus is right. we should seek a formal engagement with the Basileus.”

    Azula stared at his mother for a full moment before he let out a soft, uncertain breath. “Now that everyone has stated their concerns, I would like to ask you all to think on how we would engage with Basileus for answers. It’s not an easy project. I don’t think we can decide it in a day. So, talk to everyone; maybe they’ll have a solution. I can’t think of one at the moment.”

    “Oh, you have no opinion on Lyria Kingdom?” Alise asked, looking at him.

    Azula made a face at her. “I do not have a civil opinion on the matter, and I promised mom to think three times before I act on any Lyria Kingdom plans.”

    “Well, the sea must be running still if you’re thinking thrice about something,” Alise said with a laugh.

    Azula winked at her and let out a soft sigh. “Well, if we’re done here, I’m going to collect macadamia nuts with the kids.”

    “Azula,” Lasma started, but Azula pushed his chair back and got up.

    “Don’t forget to send Laine to Heng. He’s been bugging me about an assistant. I’ve finally found him an interesting one,” Azula said as he ran out of the council meeting room.

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 12-1

    Raithion dressed in formal clothing for his official visit to the palace. It was a day after the funeral, and the city was awash with gossip of Naeri’s death. The scribes had published the story of Naeri’s death at the hands of her most trusted lady-in-waiting. Gesi Ajai was busy trying to control the narrative, but there was no way to hide the truth. Raithion had insisted that the coroner share the details of the poison used on his wife and child in case an antidote could be found sooner.

    “Ajai will try to divert the attention to his family,” Kailu guessed, watching Raithion don a heavy black long coat.

    Raithion moved to the mirror at the vanity table as he buttoned the coat. His shirt and trousers were black, and the formal long coat was also black, though the wrists were embellished with gold lines to mark his station as the Commandery Prince. He fastened the gold buttons and sat down at the vanity. Sharian tied his hair with a gold clip and trimmed the beard Raithion had refused to shave.

    “The attention will not end easily,” Raithion said. “Push the printers to publish morning and evening. I want everyone in Genad City to know about Silver Malice. If possible, push the news beyond the capital to the various states.”

    “I have someone working on it,” Kailu said.

    Raithion nodded, pulled on his fine leather boots to match his formal attire, and shifted to look at Kailu.

    “Don’t you think it’s time to take on your true station?” Raithion asked. He had known Kailu a long time. When they were younger, and Raithion was free of the constraints of marriage, he was happy to keep Kailu’s secrets and let him play to his fullest among the Maenaer Legion officers.

    Now, his life was rubble filled with a dead wife, a poisoned son, and an infant daughter. He could not focus on anything else but bringing his life under control. Shaking his head, he gave Kailu a wan smile.

    “Things are at this point,” Raithion said, pointing to his black clothes. “I’m about to enter the palace and seek time away from the capital. My father will take over the Commandery Office in the palace. However, he is a true general—ambitious, but not as perceptive with the common people as he should be. He has a tendency to lean into the political ideas that interest him. Kailu, your cousin, is also ambitious, and now that he has gained full control of the city’s defenses, thanks to you and me, he will want to fight Gesi Ajai and the Prime Minister for more political control. So, I can only ask you to protect my sisters and mother while I’m away. What do you say?”

    “Raith,” Kailu started, only to sigh. “You’re quite smart, reaching out to me when I can’t refuse you.”

    “Your mother has done a great job protecting Little Bird in the palace. She’ll be happy to see you returning to your true self. I’m relying on you, Prince Kailu Adertha.”

    Kailu smiled at the mention of Princess Sanan. The princess married her trusted guard when she turned twenty-one and gave birth to a son. Her mother and Basileus Rokas all insisted on her remaining in the Adertha Palace and named Kailu a prince.

    Prince Kailu had run out of the palace when he was sixteen and joined the army, where he met Raithion. They had looked after each other since.

    “What do you plan to do when you get to Sura Island?” Kailu asked.

    Raithion’s gaze shifted to the blades Azula gifted him five years ago. They were resting on a stand. The handle that clipped the two blades together had started to malfunction. He had taken to keeping the blades separate. He missed the weighted feel of the double blades when they snapped together.

    “I don’t have a plan,” Raithion said with a sigh, thinking of Azula’s angry expression when he last stood face-to-face with him. “Azula was very angry when we last met. It was understandable, as his clan was decimated in the Sura cleanse. There’s nothing I can say that could dissolve his anger. So, I will just show up.”

    “I suppose that is a plan,” Kailu said. “I hope Haedor protects you well in the face of Azula’s anger.”

    “Me too,” Raithion said with a weary smile as he got up. He gave the broken blades one last glance before he started heading out. “Let’s go, Your Highness. We have a lot of work to do today.”

    Kailu let out another sigh, then followed him out of the bedroom.

    ****

    Raithion met Dio in his office. Dio stood when Raithion walked in and came around his desk to give him a short hug.

    “The funeral went smoothly,” Dio said. “You handled the ceremony quite well. It must have been difficult, but you were very strong. I could only support you from behind. Do you need anything now?”

    “Yes,” Raithion said with a nod. Dio pushed him to sit in a chair before the desk and then leaned against his desk. “I need permission to leave the capital. I have an opportunity to find a cure for Yulin. I have to take it. It means I have to travel out of Genad City. I don’t know how long it will take me, so my absence will be indefinite.”

    Dio closed his eyes and folded his arms against his chest. Raithion sat still in his chair and watched Dio until the Basileus took a deep breath and pushed off the desk. He moved around the desk to the main seat and sat down with a sigh.

    “You want to leave us alone in the capital,” Dio started.

    “You won’t be alone,” Raithion said. “My father is here, and so is Kailu.”

    “Kailu—” Dio said, but Raithion interrupted him right away.

    “He is your cousin, My Lord. He will return home and take on his title,” Raithion said. “He knows all my duties and will protect you and Little Bird. I trust him with your lives.”

    “I don’t doubt that you do, but it’s not the same when you’re not in the capital,” Dio said, shaking his head. “We’re in a good place, military-wise. But now we’re about to take on the political wall the Libert and Populi have in my court. We can’t do it without you.”

    “My son is dying,” Raithion said, his tone cold. “Gesi Ajai had someone poison him in my house. I can’t watch him die without finding a solution. I need to leave the capital.”

    “Prince Raithion,” Dio started, but Raithion slammed his palm on the desk, letting his anger color his voice.

    “You owe me,” Raithion said, his teeth gritted. “Don’t think I don’t know how I ended up married to Naeri Ajai. I allowed your plans because it is what you were owed. It is what your father was owed. I lived through everything Naeri put me through, including her devious plots to rob me of my free will so she could conceive two children. Two children I did not know how to love until she died in my great room and left them with only me as a parent. So, you need to release me from the burden of this palace. I need to go fight for Yulin and Skye now, so that I can find some peace after five years of this hell.”

    Dio stared at him in silence. They sat staring at each other for five minutes before Dio nodded.

    “Do you know that is the first time you have ever dared to tell me what you’re thinking?” Dio said with a sigh. “You’ve always kept to discussions about your duty as the Commandery Prince and your protection of Soriel. Never once have you dared to speak your mind. I’m very happy, Raith.”

    Raithion stared at him, then turned away to look out the window. His jaw clenched for a minute before he stared at his hands in his lap.

    “Forgive me,” Raithion started.

    “No, you don’t get to take back that tirade,” Dio said with a small smile. “Will you tell me where you’re going? Are you sure the imperial healers cannot come up with the cure?”

    “Dain.”

    “The coroner?” Dio asked.

    “Don’t judge him for his work; he is very good at discovering what ails people,” Raithion said. “He says the antidote for Silver Malice needs an expert. Someone who will know the precise dosage to give to Yulin. The only known expert is on Sura Island.”

    Dio sucked in air at the mention of the Sura.

    “Are you sure they will help?” Dio asked.

    “I don’t have a choice but to seek them out,” Raithion said. “I’ll have to deliver myself to the Sura Clan and see if they will help.”

    Dio sat in silence for a moment, then reached for a fresh sheet of paper from a holder on his desk. He picked up his fountain pen and started writing. When he finished, he picked up his official seal and stamped the letter with red ink before he handed it to Raithion.

    “I cannot undo what happened to them during the forged silver case,” Dio said. “But I can promise justice and the right to reopen the case to find the truth. You already have the Doriel Manor under your control. You have the right to give it to them as you will. This is the most I can do for you now. This is a warrant of retrial. You can hand it to the new Sura Chief on behalf of my court.”

    Raithion took the edict and read it. Dio had stated simply that he would grant the Sura Clan the mandate to seek a fresh retrial of their case and the right to seek fresh evidence to clear the clan’s name in court.

    “Thank you,” Raithion said with a small smile, knowing Azula would be happy to see the warrant, if not him.

    Dio got up and found an envelope from his drawers. He walked around the table and took the paper from him, folding it neatly before sealing it in an envelope and stamping the closed edge with his ring.

    “I am grateful to you, Raith,” Dio said, meeting Raithion’s gaze. “I have noted everything you have done for my family and me since you joined this palace. Every step you have taken to protect Soriel and me, I have written it in my heart. I promise not to interfere with your family matters anymore. If you do ever meet someone you’re willing to make a partner, I will stand for you and your lover for the rest of my days. That is my promise. Go, leave the palace to your father, Soriel, and me.”

    “And Kailu,” Raithion reminded him. “Let him help; otherwise, he will run back to my Maenaer residence for sanctuary and never return. Princess Sanan won’t forgive you.”

    Dio scoffed and shook his head. “Fine, and Prince Kailu.”

    “Good.” Raithion got up. “Then I’ll leave without worry.”

    “Good luck with the Sura,” Dio said as Raithion took the sealed envelope and headed to the door.

    “Yeah,” Raithion said, sure he would need a miracle to get Azula to look at him.

    That day, two things surprised the courtiers in the imperial court. One was that the Draeya Prince was leaving the capital to handle matters in Draeya County in the Naga State. Most people understood his need to return to his home county after all the tragedy in his home. The commoners wished him well and hoped that his son would find a cure soon. It was sad to imagine him planning a second funeral so soon.

    The second news was the arrival of Duke Maenaer at the court as he took over the Draeya Prince’s Commandery Office. He would be supported by Princess Sanan’s elusive son, Prince Kailu Adertha—Prince Kailu, who had not been seen for ages. The court was in an uproar over the news.

    That evening, Noriel, Soriel, Silveren, and Thanir all gathered at the gates as they watched Raithion’s private legion guard pack up and secure the carriages carrying Skye and Yulin with their nanny. Raithion’s butler, Daron, ensured they had everything, and all that was left was a quiet goodbye.

    “Take care of yourself,” Silveren said as she held on to Raithion’s right hand. “Don’t forget to eat on time. Don’t think about home too much. We can manage. You focus on finding a cure for Yulin.”

    “I will,” Raithion said, pulling her into a tight hug. She kissed his cheeks and stepped back to let Soriel and Noriel hug him. He held his sisters tight and promised to return with good news.

    Then he was standing before Thanir.

    “The Sura have a lot to gain from an agreement with the Lyria Kingdom,” Thanir said, holding his right hand tight. “There have been rumors that they have grown their island and changed their power structure. The Nerasa Kingdom is sniffing around them and may attempt a soft annexation. However, Sura Island is still part of Lyria; any annexation by the Nerasa Kingdom would trigger a war. It is not something the Sura would want. Lean on that when you meet the new Sura Chieftain.”

    “I’ll remember,” Raithion nodded, thinking of Alise, Azula’s sister. She was the next chieftain. He hoped she would be easy to talk to; at the very least, she might be willing to negotiate.

    “Yulin will be cured,” Thanir said with confidence.

    It was a confidence that filled Raithion up inside, and he nodded before he hugged his father tight, then turned to mount his horse, followed closely by Haedor, who was leading the convoy of three carriages heading to Draeya County.

    Raithion gave his family one last glance before he turned his horse and left the capital, his heart pounding with the anticipation of seeing Azula Doriel again.

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes Ch 11-2

    A wild period began in the Maenaer Manor, especially once Benira saw her daughter in the grand coffin Silveren had found for her daughter-in-law. It was painted black and inlaid with gold designs. Naeri was dressed in a fine red ceremonial dress to mark her station as the Commandery Princess. Gold hairpins were in her hair, with matching gold jewelry at her neck and gold nail guards on her fingers. She looked majestic in death, and the sight triggered Benira into endless grieving. The coffin was then placed in an ice room constructed at the back of the property.

    Benira then sat in the front courtyard of the main house and wailed for all visitors to see her grief.

    Silveren ignored her antics but made sure Benira had food when she needed it, a comfortable room to rest, and people to attend to her needs.

    Noriel helped her mother manage the house and deal with the team of investigators who overturned the manor and interrogated all the staff living in the manor.

    Soriel tried her best to penetrate the mental wall Raithion had put up as he sat on a chair by his son’s bed, while the healers did their best to save Yulin. But Raithion allowed nothing else to disturb him. Not even reports that Haedor had finally found Rasa, Naeri’s attendant, who had been trying to escape the manor in a rice supply cart at the service gates.

    “We are holding her in the firewood shed at the back of the manor,” Kailu said. “Should we call Lord Raith?”

    “No,” Soriel said. She stood outside Yulin’s chamber, watching her brother through the open doors.

    Inside, the curtains were open to allow light into the sickroom.

    Yulin lay on the right side of the large bed. Raithion sat on a chair holding Yulin’s right hand, rubbing his son’s fingers between his as though to warm them. The healers were grinding herbs at a table in the corner, their murmurs low in order not to disturb Raithion or Yulin.

    Her brother was dressed in a loose white shirt and wool trousers, his feet bare. His hair was down and uncombed. A dark, unkempt beard covered his jaw. Soriel could not remember the last time she had seen her brother so disheveled.

    Daron, her brother’s trusted butler, hurried down the hallway.

    “Do you have food for him?” Soriel asked.

    “Yes,” Daron said, glancing into the room to find Raithion resting his head on his clasped hands where he held Yulin’s limp, pale hand.

    “Try to get him to eat a few spoonfuls. If he won’t eat, give him soup,” Soriel said. “He’ll get sick sitting by his son’s bed.”

    “I’ll try,” Daron said, then entered the room to see if the healers needed any new supplies.

    Soriel sighed as she watched Raithion a moment longer, then turned to Kailu.

    “Let’s go talk to this Rasa. Mom says the funeral is in two days. We can open the doors now that we’ve found the missing link,” Soriel said. “Let visitors come in. It might stop Benira’s incessant wailing.”

    “I don’t think anything will stop that,” Kailu said, shaking his head.

    Soriel tried not to smile at Kailu’s skeptical tone as she followed him downstairs. As if on cue, Benira’s loud cries reached them as they walked to the back of Raithion’s house. Soriel sighed and prayed for grace from a higher power.

    In the firewood shed, she was surprised to find that she recognized the young woman Kailu and Haedor held in custody. She was dressed in pale green. Her hair was tied in a tight ponytail. She wore no makeup, but her face was striking. She was a beautiful girl. Soriel had seen her walking behind Naeri every time they met for family gatherings.

    “Why would you try to leave the manor while we’re mourning your mistress?” Soriel asked as Miera arranged a chair for her in front of Rasa.

    The firewood was packed in neat stacks on wall-length shelves. The roof was weatherproof to ensure the wood stayed dry. The floors were clean. Raithion’s people did not like clutter. Rasa sat on a mat with a tall shelf behind her back. She was not tied, but she looked disheveled. Her eyes were red from unshed tears.

    Soriel frowned as she studied the younger woman. Miera invited her to sit and she did, facing Rasa.

    “Your mistress has died,” Soriel said, and watched the tears spill from Rasa’s eyes. The girl was sad about Naeri’s death, but not enough to be remorseful. Soriel frowned. Not good. “Naeri was poisoned. A poison the healers cannot find a cure for. For the sake of Yulin, tell me who gave your mistress the poisoned tea.”

    Rasa cried a few more moments, then wiped her tears and met Soriel’s gaze. “If you can prove who did it, I’ll answer all your questions. But I will only talk to Lord Raith about it.”

    “Ha!” Soriel pointed a finger at her and got up. “Then, Kailu, Haedor, your work is cut out for you. Bring all the evidence you can find in this residence. I don’t believe we can’t get this one to talk.”

    ****

    A day before the funeral, Raithion woke up with a start. He sat by Yulin’s bed, his head resting on the covers. Yulin was still asleep. Raithion took his hand, and a pang of panic shifted through him when the boy’s skin felt too cold.

    He got up from his chair and leaned over the boy to check that he was still breathing. A sigh of relief escaped when he felt Yulin’s shallow breath against his cheek. Raithion pressed his palm over Yulin’s forehead, brushing away strands of damp hair before he turned to find Dain hurrying in with a bowl of warm medicine.

    “How is he this morning?” Raithion asked, as he watched Dain move closer and start feeding Yulin the medicine.

    “He’s holding steady. There is no fever. It tells me we have controlled the worst of the poison’s attack. But we still need the antidote,” Dain said. “Your Highness, forgive my forwardness, but staying in this room delays those efforts. Everyone in your residence is lost without you. Please, get out there and find me the antidote. I promise if you bring it, I will save his life.”

    Raithion stepped back from the bed, his gaze on Yulin, who was barely conscious. He had been in this room for three days now. Three days of prayers and hope. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, caught between helplessness and anger. For all of Naeri’s faults, this was the hardest trial she had ever put him through, and it wasn’t even her doing.

    Shaking his head, Raithion met Dain’s expectant gaze and then turned and left Yulin’s chambers.

    His attendant, Sharian, met him in the hallway.

    “Update me,” Raithion said.

    “I have moved your belongings to the master bedroom in this residence,” Sharian said. “The hot water is ready for your bath. As for the rest of the house, the funeral is tomorrow. The Spiritual Priest arrives this afternoon to start the funeral rituals. Your mother has arranged accommodations for your in-laws in the main house, which is why we had to move you here. Lord and Lady Ajai are staying there. They are seeking justice for their daughter’s death with every word. Your father arrived late last night. The Basilinna has been helping Kailu and Haedor with investigations. She stepped out of the manor early this morning to return to the palace. She said she would be back for the funeral. Lady Draug is helping your mother with the arrangements. Between them, they are looking after young Princess Skye.”

    “Okay,” Raithion said, suddenly so grateful his family members were strong enough to keep the ship moving when he couldn’t. “I’ll have a bath and dress for the day. Let Haedor find me to update me on the case.”

    “Right away,” Sharian said, opening the door to the master bedroom. The room had been stripped of all items belonging to Naeri.

    His butler, Daron, was quite efficient in the management of the house. He had restored the room to how it looked before Raithion got married.

    Raithion headed to the bathroom, which was tucked in a corner of the master bedroom. The sunken bath was clean and peaceful. Raithion stripped out of his clothes as Sharian opened the large copper taps to let it fill with hot water from the tanks in the kitchen.

    Sharian made sure the water temperature was right by turning on the cold water. Then, when the bath was filled, he left Raithion to his bath. Raithion sank into the hot water and cleaned himself until his mind was clear.

    Refreshed, he got out of the bath wrapped in a white bath cloth. By the bed, he stared at the black clothes, without any form of adornment, waiting for him. He was a widower now. Obligated to mourn his wife, a wife he had fought every single day of their marriage.

    Raithion pushed away the reality of his marriage and focused on dressing: underwear, black trousers, black tunic, and a black leather jacket with silver buttons. He pulled on socks and black leather boots and then sat at the vanity table.

    Sharian brushed his hair into a ponytail, then wrapped it with a black ribbon.

    Raithion did not bother shaving. He thanked Sharian for his help and left the master bedroom. Downstairs, he headed to the dining room where Haedor was already waiting, also dressed in black.

    “Lord Raith,” Haedor said. “I’m glad you’ve come down. We have made progress on the case. There are things we have uncovered that need a delicate hand.”

    “What things?” Raithion asked, accepting a cup of tea from Haedor. Aryn and Sira hurried in with bowls of hot food for the morning meal. Raithion filled his plate without reservation. He felt he needed to eat well to face the coming hours.

    “We found Rasa, who dared us to find evidence and said only then will she talk to you,” Haedor said. “Kailu and I have had all the investigators following up on Rasa’s whereabouts these last few days. My Lord, this lady-in-waiting is suspicious. The more we uncover, the more we find that she is an informant who was dropped into our manor. There are strong indications that she works for Gesi Ajai.”

    “Works for Gesi Ajai,” Raithion repeated as he ate his sweet corn on the cob. An informant working for Gesi Ajai in his manor was not news; what would be insane was if she had caused Naeri’s death. He scoffed. “Wouldn’t he have shot himself in the foot with this if his own people murdered his daughter? Naeri had something she wanted to tell me before she drank her tea.”

    “The carriage Naeri took to her parents belongs to us,” Haedor said. “The driver insists that her ladyship left in the company of her two attendants in the morning, but when she was coming back to the manor, she was running and left Rasa behind, only bringing Callie.”

    “Oh.” Raithion frowned.

    “Kailu will uncover what happened at the Ajai estate,” Haedor said. “For now, I’m focusing on Rasa and what happened when Naeri came back. We’ll have answers by the end of the day.”

    “That’s good news,” Raithion said, sipping his green tea. “It will be good to know what happened before the funeral tomorrow. I need to focus on getting an antidote for Yulin.”

    Haedor let out a sigh at the mention of Yulin, and the weight of it settled on Raithion’s heart.

    “We all hope the little prince can be saved,” Haedor said.

    Then, Thanir Maenaer walked in and Raithion and Haedor stood up.

    “I’ll give you some time alone.” Haedor picked up his teacup and plate and walked out of the dining room.

    Raithion met his father’s gaze, and his resolve fractured when Thanir opened his arms wide. He sank into his father’s embrace and cried, the tears coming even before he could think to fight them. Thanir held him tight, patting his back until he was back in control, then led him to a chair.

    “It’s good to get it out,” Thanir said, handing Raithion a cup of cool water. Raithion drank it in one go, glad for the distraction.

    “Yulin is not doing well,” Raithion said, shaking his head as he placed the cup on the table. “I need to find an antidote.”

    “I heard you have a coroner looking after him.”

    “Dain is the only one I can trust,” Raithion said, shaking his head. “Ajai has had too many spies in this residence. I can’t let healers from the street into the house.”

    “Okay,” Thanir said, then sat down. “These two days will be difficult. Ajai is in the main residence, and half the time he is pushing for us to fight the Prime Minister. I don’t know why he thinks this is something we’re interested in, but you are his focus.”

    “I know,” Raithion said with a nod, wiping a hand down his face.

    “Keep your cool,” Thanir said, “and take the hard line with him. You’re the head of your household. Everything should go as you want it to; don’t let them interfere. The Basileus may attend the funeral after all.”

    “I know,” Raithion said. “Soriel has helped with the investigations. I should thank her for it.”

    “No,” Thanir said. “You’ve been her family’s support; it’s only natural that she is yours, Raith. Don’t think of it.”

    “Dad.”

    “Yes, son,” Thanir said.

    “After the funeral, I need time away from the palace,” Raithion said. “Time to spend with Yulin and Skye. I—I was not happy with how they came about, but now I’m all they’ve got. I need to find a way in my head to be straight with that. I can’t do it if I’m caught up with the palace.”

    “I know,” Thanir said. “I will take over your office, and you can go hold the fort in Draeya.”

    Raithion met Thanir’s gaze and nodded.

    “Don’t worry about Yulin. We’ll do everything we can to find a cure,” Thanir said. “He’s a Maenaer. We look after our own.”

    Thanir studied him for a moment longer then reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s almost over, this thing with Ajai. We’ve got your back. From now on, your personal life is yours, Raith. I won’t interfere again.”

    “What about what we owe Basileus Dio’s father?” Raithion asked.

    “You’ve paid it back tenfold,” Thanir said. “It’s enough for you, Raith. I’ll do the rest if it is needed. Now, let’s eat. I heard you weren’t having enough. You need your strength, son.”

    Raithion nodded, and picked up his fork to eat the eggs on his plate. Thanir called out for a plate and cup and Sharian came in to serve him.

    They ate their meal in silence.

    Then a difficult day started.

    Raithion met his in-laws, and it took everything in him not to scream at Benira when she started crying after one look at him. Gesi Ajai, on the other hand, sat in an armchair in his parents’ great room and glared at Raithion.

    “Your wife was murdered in your house,” Gesi said. “Aren’t you going to seek retribution? The Prime Minister has been fighting my party for years. This is retaliation for our latest disagreements in court. Draeya Prince, are you going to take this sitting down?”

    Raithion wanted to protest Gesi Ajai’s accusation, but then he met his father’s gaze and held his tongue because Thanir shook his head.

    “We are doing all we can to find the culprit,” Haedor answered for Raithion. “We will bring them to justice. Please be patient.”

    “You’ve said that for the last three days. When will the justice start?” Benira asked. “When?”

    “When we’re ready,” Haedor said.

    Raithion sat in an armchair as Benira launched into an hour-long lament about her daughter’s death and how Raithion didn’t love Naeri enough. He could not blame her, and strangely, he felt her tirade was deserved. Then the spiritual priest arrived, and Raithion was glad to immerse himself in the preparation for the funeral rites.

    ****

    As the sun went down on the eve of Naeri’s funeral, Raithion stood by the spiritual priest, who was praying for his wife’s soul. He listened with a blank mind, hoping the heavens would turn their grace to Yulin. The boy was too young to face the consequences of his grandfather’s machinations.

    The spiritual priest finished his prayers for the day and turned to Raithion with kind eyes.

    “The ceremony of burial will start in the morning. Now that all the preparations are ready, it should go smoothly,” he said. “The gravesite is already blessed. Rest well this evening, as it will be a long day, but I promise I’ll get you through it.”

    “Thank you for your efforts, Priest Suner,” Raithion said.

    “I know this is not easy,” Priest Suner said. “This is a difficult moment for you and your children, but with faith giving you strength, you’ll get to the other side. Be strong, Lord Raith.”

    “Thank you,” Raithion said, then turned to his butler, Daron. “Make sure the priest has a warm meal and a place to rest.”

    “We’ve prepared it,” Daron said. “Please, follow me.”

    Raithion waited for the priest to leave, following his butler with his eyes before he turned his attention to his in-laws, who sat in chairs to the left of the large hall, and his own relatives, who filled the chairs to the right.

    Gesi Ajai glared at Thanir Maenaer and had been doing so since the guest lists were finalized for the funeral earlier in the day.

    Raithion held his emotions in check and sat on the chair Haedor turned to face the room. Behind him was the altar where Naeri’s painting stood among flowers arranged in wild abandon by her mother and Silveren. Candles burned day and night, to be extinguished tomorrow after the funeral ended. Naeri’s body was already in a coffin, resting in the ice room at the back of the residence. The carriage that would carry her to the city’s private cemetery was waiting in front.

    “Now that the priest has begun the rites, this family must move as one in the morning,” Raithion said. “There will be no fights during the funeral. I will not allow it.”

    “You won’t allow it, but I will,” Gesi said, his tone abrasive. “My daughter has been poisoned and my grandson is ill. Your family is then planning to entertain the culprit at her funeral tomorrow. It is outrageous.”

    “Who do you think is the culprit?” Noriel asked. She sat next to Silveren in the front row facing the Ajai clan. Beside her was her husband, and she looked every inch the head of the household as she faced Gesi.

    “The Prime Minister,” Gesi Ajai said. “He cannot be allowed to attend my daughter’s funeral.”

    “The accusation is heard, but it is difficult to uphold,” Noriel said. “Lord Ajai, I understand you’re my brother’s father-in-law and the Minister of Finance. But making such an unsolicited accusation will have consequences for the family. It is so wrong that it is unreasonable.”

    “Why does Lady Draug dare to meddle in my daughter’s funeral matters? Don’t you even want to show me some respect?” Gesi Ajai asked, his gaze unkind when he looked at Noriel.

    “You need evidence before you make such a deadly accusation,” Noriel said, her tone firm and unshaken.

    “Speaking of evidence,” Raithion spoke up in support of his sister. “Lord and Lady Ajai have filled this manor with complaints for three days. The more noise we managed, the harder it was to control gossip about Naeri, making this mourning period turn into a circus.”

    Raithion shifted in his chair and rested his hands on the armrests.

    “Naeri is gone. She and I had many disagreements, but if I didn’t think she deserved a cup of poison, no one else had the right,” Raithion said, meeting Gesi Ajai’s gaze. “After all, she sinned most against me. No one here can refute that truth.”

    Benira gasped and covered her mouth with a handkerchief.

    Raithion ignored her dramatics and let out a sigh.

    “While you’ve been coming up with false accusations, we’ve found the villain who has brought black banners to my house,” Raithion said. “Kailu and Haedor, you finish the work.”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Kailu said, stepping out from behind Raithion’s chair.

    A commotion began at the entrance to the large hall as the officers under Kailu and Haedor dragged in Naeri’s attendants. The three women Naeri brought into the manor were dressed in their daily uniform: purple skirts and white blouses. Their hair was held in tight ponytails. They were crying as Kailu and Haedor made them stand in the space left between the aisles of chairs.

    “What’s the meaning of this?” Benira asked, pointing at the attendants who came from her house. “Why are you harming the ladies who took care of Naeri and the children of this house? Son-in-law, what do you mean by this?”

    Raithion nodded at Kailu, letting him handle the matter.

    “Lady Ajai, please calm down,” Kailu said. “The manor was locked down the moment Her Highness took a sip of her tea and fell in pain. Every servant was thoroughly vetted with the help of the palace guard. Not even a rat was spared in the search. Every person’s whereabouts were accounted for except for two of these ladies.”

    Kailu pointed at the three attendants standing and facing Gesi Ajai, his wife, and the Ajai clan.

    “I’ll ask them for you where they were, as their mistress and the eldest young master of the house drank poison,” Kailu said. He stopped before the first young attendant. “This is Miss Aria. She has been with Her Highness since she entered the Maenaer residence. She has helped raise Yulin and Skye since birth. Where were you when your lady was drinking poisoned tea?”

    “Her Highness left the manor to visit her mother for a period. I was left at home caring for the young Princess Skye. I didn’t know her ladyship was back until an alert was sounded to lock the gates. That’s when I found out Her Highness was poisoned.”

    “Who was with you?” Kailu asked.

    “When her ladyship leaves the residence, I usually take the baby to the main house to spend time with Duchess Maenaer. I was with the staff from Duchess Maenaer’s house in the nursery.”

    “What about your companions?”

    Aria glanced at the two women standing next to her, then sighed. “Rasa and Callie went out with her ladyship. I did not see them again until your officers brought us here.”

    “Thank you, Aria,” Kailu nodded to one of his officers, who led Aria out of the hall. Kailu stopped before the second attendant, who was shaking with nerves. “Your name and what you do.”

    “Callie. I work—worked—for her ladyship.”

    “Where were you when Her Highness was poisoned?” Kailu asked.

    Callie sniffled. “I was in the kitchen in Draeya Prince’s residence. I helped prepare the evening meal. Her Ladyship asked me to help as the residence has been busy with repair work and there was a lot of food to prepare for the extra staff.”

    “Who made the tea Her Ladyship drank?” Kailu asked, and Callie closed her eyes, trembling so hard she almost fell. “Just answer the question the best you can.”

    “I made the tea, my lord,” Callie said, her voice shaking. “But I did not serve it. R-Rasa asked to take the tea to Her Ladyship.”

    “And what kind of tea did you brew?” Kailu asked.

    “It was lemon green tea,” Callie said. “Her Ladyship had been suffering a sore throat of late. I blended the tea myself often to help ease the discomfort. This was obviously because I cared for her. I would never harm her or the young prince. You must believe me. I don’t know how the lemon green tea turned into poison.”

    “You don’t know, but others do,” Kailu said, shaking his head. “The person to prove Callie’s words is a mason who was fixing the window ledges on the hallway from the kitchen to the great room. Call him in.”

    The mason walked into the hall, wearing a clean white tunic and dark trousers. His hair was gathered into a low ponytail, a rough man hoping to shine in a roomful of nobles. He was mildly nervous, but he stood next to Kailu with confidence.

    “State your name.” Kailu’s tone was kind even as it carried the weight of authority.

    “I’m Jaxon. The mason in charge of the hallway leading to the great room from the kitchen. I worked with two helpers. We were working the afternoon of her ladyship’s poisoning. A commotion started between two attendants near the kitchen entrance. One tripped the other, and the tea kettle on a tray fell and spilled the contents. Then this one,” Jaxon pointed to Rasa, “she came from outside and solved the problem with a new pot, asking one of my men to throw away the broken tea kettle. Instead of throwing away the pieces, we kept them because the porcelain from the tea kettle is expensive and can be used to decorate things. My Lord, I have already handed over the teapot shards to you.”

    Kailu raised his right hand, and two of his attendants brought two trays. One carried the shards of the broken porcelain teapot; the other carried the remnants of the tea Callie made still in a silver tea kettle.

    “Callie, you were lucky the remaining lemon green tea was still in the kitchen after the accident. We found the last of it in the silver tea kettle you used to make the original batch. Your testimony is true, but your tea never made it to the great room. Instead, it was changed into the tea of death by Rasa.” Kailu turned to the door and nodded.

    The coroner walked in with the teapot and the two cups Naeri used on the day she died.

    “I’m a direct person,” Kailu said when the coroner stood next to him.

    Kailu dismissed Callie and the mason from the room with a nod then turned to Gesi Ajai’s family.

    “Explaining the point of poisoned teapots and cups, I will do it with a few words. A trusted attendant dared to bring poison into Lord Raith’s residence and fed it to her mistress and the residence’s heir,” Kailu said. “It is simply said, but the problem is too complex because of who Lord Raith is and who Her Highness was. So, I can only bring out the coroner before you so he can tell you what plagues Prince Yulin, keeping him to his bed on the edge of life. Perhaps Rasa will offer a solution to the poison. Coroner, you start. What is in the tea?”

    “My lord, the tea has datura, or what we call the devil’s trumpet, and a blend of exotic herbs. There are two I suspect are from the Nerasa Kingdom, and all of them are toxic,” Dain said. “We have given Prince Yulin activated charcoal to fight the worst of the poison attack, but we need an antidote. If the Prince stays in his current state longer, he will die.”

    Benira started crying, painful sobs that were difficult to ignore.

    Raithion closed his eyes, fighting the urge to take over Kailu’s job. He gripped the armchair handles tight and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

    “Lady Ajai,” Raithion said, his voice low, barely above a growl. “If you keep sobbing, when will Kailu gain the answers he seeks for the justice you want for your daughter? Will you shut up for a period?”

    The hall went quiet, and Benira stared at him with shocked, wide eyes.

    “Kailu, finish it,” Raithion said, ignoring the accusations in Benira’s eyes.

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Kailu said and turned to Rasa. “Lady Rasa, Her Highness put all her trust in you. When she married into the Maenaer residence, no one here would object if you were to be called her sister. She gave you that respect and forced us all who live under the Maenaer name to afford you the same. Do you agree?”

    “I agree,” Rasa said in a soft, defeated voice.

    “Why would you harm Her Highness?” Kailu asked. “Why would you feed her poisoned tea?”

    Rasa shook her head, looking at Gesi Ajai, then at Benira, then, to everyone’s surprise, she turned and rushed toward Raithion with a desperate energy. Kailu caught her shoulder just as she reached Raithion.

    Kailu forced her to her knees, and Raithion stayed still, not having moved an inch.

    “Your Highness, please, you must take me in. I did all this for you,” Rasa said. “For you, Your Highness!”

    “For me?” Raithion asked with a small chuckle. “How is it for me when I have to plan a funeral and deal with my in-laws’ wrath? How is it for me when Yulin is poisoned and dying in his bed?”

    “I’ll marry you and give you a new heir,” Rasa said, her eyes bright with hope and a madness Raithion had not expected from her. “I’ve helped Naeri run this house for five years since she entered it. I watched her trick you to gain heirs one after the other. I even helped spike the bathwater for her to get Skye. But you, your heart never opened to her. You were kind to me. Always nice, looking for me to tell me what you wanted from her. I know everything about you, Your Highness. You weren’t happy with her. I know I can change it all. I’ll be better than her. I’ll be your Commandery Princess. Choose me, Lord Raith.” Rasa smiled wide. “All the people you truly care for call you Lord Raith.”

    “What poison did you give them?” Raithion asked. “If you tell me what it is, I can listen to more of your plans. Quick, tell me what kind of treasure you found for Naeri?”

    “You’ll never guess,” Rasa chuckled. “But you’re so handsome, Lord Raith. I couldn’t stand her touching you. Your eyes, your face, your kisses, she didn’t deserve them. I’ll tell you because I know you like to know the truth before you give anyone a chance. You have to give me one now. It was Silver Malice. So difficult to put together because the herbs are hard to get.”

    The coroner gasped, and Raithion forced himself to keep his gaze on Rasa, not wanting to lose her attention.

    “Is there an antidote?” Raithion asked, his voice gentle, careful, a lover’s caress.

    “I’m sure the Nerasa Kingdom has one,” Rasa said with a shrug. “But it’s not easy to brew. You need a skilled healer for it. I was never concerned with the antidote. I just wanted it for my own purpose. I was tired of serving Naeri. She was like a baby who needed to be guided through every step of her life. It was exhausting.”

    Raithion stood then, grabbed her by her collar, and pulled her to Gesi Ajai, throwing her with one swift move.

    “Here is the reason why we’re mourning,” Raithion said, glaring at Gesi Ajai and Benira. “The culprit is from your house. You take responsibility for what happens to her. I can’t be bothered. My orders stand. The funeral will continue as planned. No one will fight tomorrow, and I don’t want to hear one accusation against the Prime Minister again.”

    Benira’s sobs broke out and Raithion was done with it. He left the large hall with Kailu, Haedor, and the coroner following him. Outside in the corridor, Raithion turned to the coroner.

    “What the hell is Silver Malice?” Raithion asked.

    Dain still held the tray with the poisoned tea. His expression grim as he faced Raithion.

    “A poison found in the Nerasa Kingdom,” Dain said. “I read about it in my master’s library. It’s a blend of deadly herbs called harrow, mutagen, and datura. It’s a good thing we saved the tea, because the antidote needs part of that tea. I don’t know how to make it. We need an expert. You won’t like to hear this, but there is an apothecary in the business district who may know how to do it.”

    “Find the apothecary. Bring him or her here,” Raithion said. “Hurry.”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Dain said and ran out of the house, followed by two officers assigned by Haedor.

    “Rasa.” Raithion shook his head. “A snake slithering in my house and making up a play.”

    “You shouldn’t have given her over to Gesi Ajai,” Kailu said.

    “It was on purpose. Gesi Ajai has no choice but to deal with her after she’s killed his daughter. Following what happens to her is something we can use. We still need information on why Naeri came running home,” Raithion said, leading the way out of the main house. “Assign a team of ten luckless men to the Ajai property. I want to know what he is eating for his midnight snack and the temperature of his bathwater before it happens.”

    “Yes, My Lord.” Kailu left him, and Raithion stopped on the path to his residence, suddenly afraid.

    Rasa’s gaze as she said she hadn’t cared about the antidote worried him. His son’s life

    “We’ll get the cure,” Haedor said, placing a hand on his right shoulder as though to steady him. “We’ll find it and Yulin will be saved.”

    Raithion closed his eyes, nodded, then continued his walk into the house, hurrying upstairs to check on Yulin. He had been away too long.

    ****

    The next morning, the gates at the Maenaer Manor opened early. Guests arrived at eight in the morning; those who were to be seated were shone into the great hall, others into the many sitting areas arranged in the courtyard.

    The spiritual priest started the funeral rites. Raithion, his parents and Naeri’s parents all stood at the front dressed in black.

    When the rites ended, six legion officers led by Haedor and Kailu carried the casket out to the carriage, and a procession began to the outskirts of the city, where the private cemetery was located. The burial lasted the whole afternoon, and by the time Raithion returned to the manor, he was mentally and physically exhausted. He wanted to close the doors and shut out the world, but he could not do that, the guests needed to be fed, his colleagues wanted to sit and drink with him.

    At around ten in the night, Dain brought the apothecary he had been searching for, and Raithion got a moment to escape the visitors.

    Dain led the apothecary to a private office in Raithion’s house.

    “What does the apothecary need to create an antidote?” Raithion asked, glancing at the old man seated on a chair in his office. “If you tell us, we’ll get it.”

    “The antidote herbs are easy to get for a man of your means,” the apothecary said. “It’s the method that is the problem. The only person I’ve heard skilled enough to make an antidote lived on the Sura Clan’s island.”

    Dain and Haedor both sucked in air at the mention of the Sura Clan Island. No one had talked about the Sura in the capital after five years.

    Raithion crouched before the apothecary, looking into his eyes, searching for deception, but the old man was honest, and held his gaze without flinching.

    “Silver Malice is deadly,” the apothecary said. “Even a small amount will drain your energy and keep harming your organs until you can’t wake up again. The healer from the Sura Clan had some experience because they traded with the Nerasa Kingdom. I don’t know what became of them, but you will need to find a Sura Clan member to tell you what to do.”

    “What is the name of this healer from the Sura?” Haedor asked.

    “Lasma,” the apothecary said. “She was a healer’s daughter.”

    “And the Chieftain’s wife,” Raithion said, his voice low. Azula’s mother.

    “What do we do now?” Haedor asked Raithion.

    “I need to visit the Basileus in the morning. I’ll get his permission to travel to the Sura Island,” Raithion said.

    “Do you think the Sura will be willing to help?” Haedor asked, his tone skeptical.

    Raithion smiled at the old apothecary and rose to his feet. “If they don’t want to, I’ll have to find a way to persuade them.”

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes Ch 11-1

    Soriel entered Basileus Dio’s office in the afternoon with a joyous wave for his staff.

    Dio stopped reading the reports from the military office and gave her his full attention. His wife looked radiant in a pink dress that whispered and shimmered with every step. Her long black hair fell down her back, pinned with butterfly clips that caught the light when she moved. She approached his desk with a smile meant only for him.

    He pushed his chair back, and pleasure spread through him when she perched on his lap and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as she settled. The scent of roses filled his senses. He buried his nose into her shoulder and closed his eyes, savoring her warmth.

    No wonder his mother said Soriel had bewitched him. He could not argue with the truth of it.

    His heartbeat belonged to Soriel Maenaer. Her love was uncomplicated, fearless, and sure, an anchoring certainty in a world of shifting alliances. She had given him a son in the five years they had been married, but she had also given him something rarer: a partnership that did not bend. If he was bewitched, then he hoped to stay lost.

    “My love,” Soriel said softly, stroking her fingers through his hair. “I want to go home tomorrow. There is news that my brother has returned from the border, and I want to see him at his house.”

    “Your brother is back. He can come visit us in the palace,” Dio said, wrapping his arms around Soriel and holding her close, as though his body could make her change her mind. “I haven’t seen him in months.”

    “I’m sure he’ll come to report to you,” Soriel said. “But I want to talk to him about his wife, Naeri. They have become too estranged. Mom says they are not doing well. It will hurt the children if they don’t find a solution. A while back, I thought I should bring Yulin to the palace so he could play with our son, but we have problems of our own with Mother-in-law.”

    Soriel let out a sigh and rested her weight against him. Dio felt her worry, her responsibility, the way she carried family as though it were both shield and crown.

    “Well.” Dio raised his head from her shoulder and leaned back to meet Soriel’s troubled gaze when she sat up. “What do you think they should do?”

    “I don’t know,” Soriel said, shaking her head. “Naeri is not an easy sister-in-law. She won’t talk to Noriel or me. She only leans on our mother when she thinks it will force Raithion to do something. I’m at a loss, Dio. Mom thinks she should send Raithion’s children to our ancestral home in Draeya. I think it’s a good idea, but it is cruel to separate children from their mother. What do you think?”

    Dio wished he had an easy solution for Soriel. He felt responsible for Raithion’s current predicament. He had heard the stories of Noriel’s attempts to secure her position in Raithion’s home: using potent aphrodisiac drugs to push Raithion into compliance so she could give birth to a Maenaer heir. Raithion’s reaction to his wife’s actions was extreme. He escaped the city in favor of border inspections, vanishing into duty.

    It made Dio wonder if he had broken something in Raithion’s life when he chose what the kingdom demanded over what a man might have wanted.

    “Soriel,” Dio said quietly, taking her right hand and turning it in his own as he played with the red jade ring on her index finger.

    He had given her the ring during their wedding, making her his wife and the Basilinna of the Kingdom of Lyria. The smile on her face that day still lived in him, bright as a vow, sharp as a promise. Raithion’s toast for his sister’s happiness also lingered in his thoughts, refusing to fade.

    What had Raithion said?

    Soriel, may you always be happy with your chosen love…”

    Chosen love, Dio thought with a frown, the words turning in his mind like a blade.

    “Do you think your brother had someone he loved before his engagement to Lady Naeri?” Dio asked, meeting Soriel’s worried gaze.

    She studied him for a minute, then her gaze drifted to their clasped hands.

    “I once thought so,” Soriel said, her voice low, as though afraid the people beyond Dio’s office door would hear. “Especially when he came back after the Sura purge, but there are no clues.”

    “No clues don’t mean one doesn’t exist,” Dio said with a sigh. “I’ve wronged your big brother for the sake of our family.”

    “Does this mean you’ll let me see him?” Soriel asked. “Yulin and Skye need help. I’m their auntie. There’s nothing to do but find a way for them to grow up happy.”

    “I know,” Dio said. “You can visit him. But he should also come to see his Basileus when he manages his affairs at home. Tell him I want to see him.”

    Soriel kissed his cheek, and Dio smiled, softened in a way he allowed only her to witness. “I’ll tell him. I’ll take Rane with me so he can play with his grandmother and cousin. It will be good for Yulin. You make sure to eat on time. If you can’t stand being at a table with Mother-in-law, go visit Auntie Sanan and Dowager Grandmother. She is always eager to feed you.”

    “I feel like you’re planning to leave me for many days,” Dio complained, tightening his arms around Soriel. The words were petulant, but the truth beneath them was not. “Won’t you miss me in your bed? How about I sneak into the Maenaer manor…” His voice trailed off as he leaned in to kiss her cheeks, angling for her lips.

    “Dio,” Soriel said. “Behave yourself. We are in your office. Your attendants could walk in at any minute. And I’d like to see you sneak into a house with my brother and father there.”

    “I’m not worried. I married you fair and square,” Dio complained, and finally he kissed her lips, smiling against her mouth as he swallowed Soriel’s soft chuckle. Her laughter always felt like victory, sweet, private, and entirely his.

    A knock on the door interrupted their kiss, and Dio sighed when Soriel hid her face in his shoulder as though it might hide her blush.

    “Yes,” Dio said, lifting his gaze. He was surprised to find Theod Dorn, head of the palace guard, standing at his door with a panicked expression. “What is it, Theod?”

    “There’s been a development at the Maenaer Manor,” Theod said, making Soriel sit up to look at him despite her blush-stained cheeks.

    “What development?” Soriel asked.

    “Um.” Theod hesitated, then entered the office and held out a note to Dio.

    Soriel grabbed it first and unrolled it. It took her a moment before she jumped off Dio’s lap in alarm and handed the note to Dio.

    Dio read the note aloud. “Commandery Princess poisoned. Draeya Prince has locked down the manor.”

    “I have to go home,” Soriel said, already turning to leave.

    “Wait. I’ll go with you,” Dio said, dropping the note on his desk as he started after her.

    “No.” Soriel stopped him with a gentle hand on his chest when he reached her. She looked at Theod, then let out a controlled breath. “This is not as simple as it sounds. My brother has returned home, and now his wife is poisoned. We have been dealing with Lord Gesi Ajai’s machinations in the court for the last six months as he finds a way to weaken our bond and the traction we’ve built in the court. Raithion’s wife is Gesi Ajai’s daughter. This is not so simple.”

    “The Basilinna is right,” Theod said, giving Dio a firm nod.

    “You stay,” Soriel said. “Look after our son. Let him stay with Princess Sanan and Dowager Grandmother if you need to go to court. I’ll manage my brother’s house.”

    “What if it’s dangerous?” Dio asked, pulling Soriel into his arms.

    “I have guards to protect me,” Soriel said, her voice steady. She did not flinch from danger. “Don’t worry.”

    She leaned up and kissed him on his lips, a sweet kiss that had Theod turning away at once, offering them the dignity of privacy.

    “Gesi Ajai has been unable to hurt us,” Soriel said, the certainty in her tone making Dio’s chest tighten with pride and unease in equal measure. “So, he’s gone after my brother. I’ll go help Raith however I can. After all, thanks to him, we’ve become a bit stronger.”

    “You’re right,” Dio said, hugging Soriel tight for a moment, as though he could lend her his strength through skin and breath. “All right. Call me if you need help. Keep me updated.”

    “I will,” Soriel said and rushed out of Dio’s office.

    Theod watched her leave with admiration, then turned to Dio.

    “Draeya Prince and Gesi Ajai are about to lock horns,” Theod said. “Are you satisfied?”

    “I’m apprehensive,” Dio said, moving to look out the windows at the bright garden. He caught sight of Soriel running along a path toward Rose Hall so she could change for her trip out of the palace. Even hurried, she moved with purpose, like a woman born to command.

    “My wife is very attached to her family. I’ve tried to win her brother’s confidence, but Raithion has been closed off for five years. He marches to orders without question, and my tenure as Basileus has gained strength thanks to his efforts,” Dio said with a sigh. “Raithion’s determination to clean out military ranks within the capital city, Genad, and at the border has left Gesi Ajai without a route to manipulate cases in court, the economy he almost ruined, and even my palace staff.”

    “Draeya Prince has held up the front against Gesi Ajai,” Theod said. “It has left his family life open to Gesi Ajai.”

    “We are now in a critical moment,” Dio said. “I can only hope Raithion makes it to the other side, and whatever Gesi Ajai does will not rob him of more.” His voice lowered. “I have sinned, Theod. Do you think Raithion will ever forgive me?”

    “That’s up to fate,” Theod said.

    Dio nodded once.

    “Tell the silent guard to support Draeya Prince and the Basilinna however they can,” Dio said. “I want this resolved as fast as possible.”

    “I’ll tell them,” Theod said.

    ****

    Soriel rode her horse hard, followed by Meira and Vanya and the formal guard from the palace as they headed for her parents’ manor. She was dressed in black, a dark veil with gold embroidery covering her hair and part of her face to keep interested eyes from lingering too long. Nervous energy coursed through her veins as she thought about her brother and his estranged wife, Naeri. What bad fate had Raith triggered to have so many problems at home?

    She turned onto the affluent street that led to their manor and slowed when a ruckus met them like a wall. A woman was wailing loudly, calling out to the gathering crowd with the practiced desperation of someone who knew exactly where shame landed hardest.

    “They have poisoned my daughter to death and won’t let me enter to see her. Look what they have done. She was fine this morning. We had a lovely meal together, and now they say she is poisoned. What kind of in-laws are these? They won’t let me see my daughter.” Her voice broke, then sharpened again. “What about my grandchildren? How can I be sure they are fine in a place where their mother was poisoned?”

    The wailing woman stared at the closed gates as if grief alone should force them open. She cried louder, dragging the crowd into her pain until the murmurs turned into demands. Voices rose. Insults snapped against the closed wooden gates like thrown stones.

    Vanya got off her horse, handed the reins to one of her sisters, and hurried ahead, melting into the crowd. Soriel dismounted, followed by Meira. The team of ten guards did the same and waited by a low wall until Vanya returned.

    Vanya came back minutes later, shaking her head.

    “It is Lady Benira,” Vanya said. “The Commandery Princess’s mother. She has been here for an hour. The manor doors were already locked when they arrived. Draeya Prince’s guard won’t open without an order from him. She is making a ruckus to force the doors open.”

    “So petty,” Soriel said, though her eyes hardened as she watched the crowd swell with borrowed outrage. Raithion likely had his hands full with his wife inside the manor. The locked doors would be a security measure. Soriel’s mouth tightened. “Has my sister arrived?”

    “Yes. Lady Draug is already inside,” Vanya said with a wince. “She is part of the reason Lady Benira is causing a fuss. Apparently, the guards allowed Lady Draug in without much issue, but they won’t let Lady Benira inside. She thinks it is because Lady Draug is a Maenaer and she is not.”

    “Grinding gossip to make our family look bad,” Soriel said, adjusting her gloves with deliberate care. She looked to Meira. “Let’s go deal with this one. Vanya, I’ll leave you to manage the crowd. Clear this place after we enter and send anyone who wants to make a scene to the side entrance.”

    “Yes, my lady,” Vanya said.

    Soriel steadied herself and stepped into the clamoring crowd that was now shouting insults at her family’s main gates. Meira flanked Soriel, watchful and ready, while Vanya and her team guarded the rear.

    “How dare a noble family keep a mother away from her child when she is in trouble?” someone called out. “Worse than dogs.”

    “Duchess Maenaer,” Benira called out, her voice dripping with tears. “Let me see my daughter. How can you keep me away from her like this? Is it because we come from a lowly family? I will kneel down to beg you to open the door. Do you dare see me beg?”

    “And why can’t she dare to see you beg?” Soriel asked, her voice cold as she stepped out to face Benira Ajai. “What do you think she is guilty of, that she doesn’t dare to face you?”

    Benira turned eyes red and gleaming, and snapped as though Soriel were only another obstacle.

    “And who are you to meddle where you know nothing?” Benira asked.

    Her gaze flicked over Soriel’s veil and black attire with contempt.

    “Lady Noriel walked into the manor not thirty minutes ago, and no one dared stop her. What of me? Where is their recognition of my place as the Commandery Princess’s mother? Are they looking down on me? Don’t I have a right to demand attention from my son-in-law?” Her voice rose, aimed at the crowd as much as Soriel. “Who are you to question me?”

    Soriel narrowed her gaze as she took in the crowd of attendants clustered behind Benira, five visible at Benira’s shoulders, and more pressing at the edges of the crowd. Then, with a soft scoff, Soriel pushed the veil back to reveal her face.

    The shift was immediate.

    Benira’s breath caught. Her expression faltered as recognition struck. She gasped.

    “I am the youngest daughter in the Maenaer clan,” Soriel said, her smile small and controlled. “Am I not allowed to question you when you slander my mother in front of such a large crowd?”

    “Your Majesty,” Benira said at once, pressing her right hand to her chest and bowing her head.

    The crowd quieted as if a hand had closed around their throats. Then, as if waking, they followed Benira’s lead: bows, murmurs, whispers threaded with excitement.

    “Your Majesty,” they repeated, the words spreading through them like sudden fear.

    Benira glanced up with apprehension, even as she pressed a handkerchief to her eye as though to wipe away tears. The performance did not stop, but it changed.

    Soriel smirked and climbed two steps so she could face the onlookers Benira had gathered at the Maenaer front gate.

    “My brother’s wife has been poisoned,” Soriel said, her voice carrying the weight of authority. “I, too, have received a message and have come to see how I can help. We do not know how or why this happened, but I can imagine the Draeya Prince has locked the manor doors to capture the culprit.” Her gaze swept the crowd, steady, unafraid of their earlier insults. “Anyone would move quickly to discover who has harmed a member of their family. I beg you not to speculate until more information is provided.”

    “What about Lady Benira?” someone called out. “Why not let her in?”

    “Look. She came to call on my mother’s house with over ten attendants. If I were investigating a crime, I would want to clear those inside first before I had to clear the ten attendants coming along with others,” Soriel said, and she did not soften her voice. She let the truth stand like stone. Her eyes slid to Benira and the attendants hovering behind her. “Surely one or two will be fine. It is not like the Draeya Prince can’t afford attendants in his house. We all want the culprit caught.” Soriel’s gaze sharpened, pinning Benira where she stood. “Or isn’t that what you want, Lady Benira?”

    “I-I—” Benira began, then stopped, caught between the crowd and the Basilinna, her mouth suddenly unable to keep pace with her scheme.

    “Her Majesty speaks sense,” someone in the crowd said. “Surely you’d want the investigator to catch the culprit in time. Adding more people will delay the work.”

    “That’s true.”

    “But why did Lady Draug enter?”

    “She brought one attendant,” someone else answered, “a girl who is from the Maenaer home to begin with. They know them.”

    “Mm, that makes sense. Even Her Majesty has only brought one attendant with her. What’s with Lady Benira’s horde of attendants?”

    Soriel raised her hand slightly, and the crowd’s noise dipped, as if they were conditioned to obey without realizing it.

    “Okay,” Soriel said. “I’ll vouch for Lady Benira to enter the manor with me, but I can only take one attendant of hers inside. We need to cooperate with my brother’s efforts to catch the culprit.” She looked directly at Benira, leaving no room for argument. “Isn’t that right, Lady Benira?”

    “Yes,” Benira said, her voice suddenly small.

    “Let’s all wait for news,” Soriel told the crowd. “I’ll make sure the truth is laid out to everyone in a clean manner. I, too, want to know who would dare harm our family members.”

    Soriel turned to the guard standing at the Maenaer front gates and produced her entry token. The guard nodded and knocked on the gate.

    Soriel was not surprised to see Kailu and Haedor waiting for them as the gates opened.

    “Your Majesty, we were just about to open for Lady Benira when she started the ruckus,” Kailu said.

    “Don’t worry about it,” Soriel said, keenly aware of Lady Benira hurrying behind her with one attendant while the others were held back by Vanya and her team. Soriel’s voice stayed level, but her pace did not slow. “How is my brother’s family?”

    The gates closed behind them, sealing out the noise, and Kailu let out a soft sigh.

    “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Kailu said. “It is bad news. Her Highness has been poisoned to death. Prince Yulin is poisoned, too. The healers are inside working to save him. Lady Silveren has started preparing the Commandery Princess’s funeral.”

    Benira let out a grief-stricken scream, sharp enough to scrape the air. Her attendant held her tight as she swayed, suddenly a mother again instead of a woman wielding scandal as a weapon.

    Soriel winced at the tragedy and closed her eyes for a heartbeat, one breath to feel it, one breath to set it aside, because a Basilinna could mourn later.

    “Haedor,” Soriel said, opening her eyes, calm and commanding, “lead Lady Benira into the house to see my mother.”

    Haedor nodded to Benira’s attendant, who led the grieving woman to follow him into the main house.

    Soriel’s gaze shifted to Kailu, then to the house, to the unseen corridors where her brother waited. “Where is my brother?”

    “He is with Prince Yulin,” Haedor said. “He has asked Kailu and me to find the culprit. Lady Silveren is busy with the funeral arrangements, while Noriel is assisting her. We need someone to report to as we find clues.”

    “I’ll take over,” Soriel said, and the words landed like a decree. She glanced at Meira. “Send a message to Lord Ajai and to my husband about the Commandery Princess’s fate.”

    Meira nodded and hurried away to find the manor’s aviary to send a message.

    Soriel turned to Kailu. “I’ll see my brother first, then you can report your findings to me.” Her eyes hardened with purpose. “We need to close this case before the funeral if my brother is to have peace from his in-laws. Let’s get it done.”

    “Yes, Your Majesty,” Kailu said, leading her to Raithion’s house.

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  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 10

    Arc 3: The Case of the Commandery Princess and the Prime Minister’s Narrow Escape

    Chapter 10

    Five years was a lifetime that passed by in a wave of burning ambition. For the Basileus, his young Basilinna, and Gesi Ajai, who worked at collecting money using the acquired Sura Clan workshops like a sandstorm devouring the landscape. His daughter, Naeri, now a Commandery Princess, turned into a desperate wife in the Maenaer residence that belonged to her husband. Faced with a cold husband and a nagging father who demanded rights and power, she reached for dirty old wives’ ways that almost broke her unwilling husband. Sending Raithion into a deep rebellion of wives and the so-called “warmth of a home.”

    It was a month before spring. Raithion stood on a high walkway watching legion officers train in the early morning at the barracks in Ninid State on the northwest border of the Lyria Kingdom.

    Haedor helped one of the training soldiers adjust his stance and his grip on a long spear as he made his practice movements. Raithion took in a deep breath, appreciating the loud calls the men gave as they trained.

    Kailu stepped up on the walkway from the main general’s office.

    “Commander, the border is finally peaceful. The information we have received from our spies in the Lavos Nation is that they are busy managing floods in the west of their kingdom. They will be too preoccupied to think about our border for the next while.”

    “That is good news for us,” Raithion said. “It also means I can return to the capital without worry.”

    “Not that you’ve been in a hurry,” Kailu noted with a sly smile. “You’ve lingered here longer than in the other states. I suspect it is because it is as far as you can get from the capital. Will you ever forgive your wife?”

    Raithion could not help the recoil of anger that filled him at the mention of Naeri.

    “No.” Raithion shook his head, bile rising. There were crimes committed against a person’s conscience that could not be forgiven, no matter the amount of time that passed. “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s prepare to depart. It’s been a year and a half of travel. I’m eager to discover how the commandery office is doing.”

    “Commander,” Kailu started, then stopped. “Never mind, you’re right. I’ll get the Draeya legion officers to start getting ready for the trip home.”

    “Kailu,” Raithion said, glancing at his best friend.

    “Yes, Raith,” Kailu said.

    “It’s-it’s easier for me not to think about what she’s done,” Raithion said. “Somehow it gives me back control not having to dwell on it.”

    “But for how long?” Kailu asked.

    Raithion held his best friend’s gaze for a long moment, then shrugged. “As long as I need not to think about it.”

    “As long as it helps you sleep at night,” Kailu said. “I’ll pack the cotton you collected. Your mom has great weavers. They can make use of the raw cotton and make you a warm blanket to hide your head under.”

    Raithion chuckled. “I’ll leave the planning to you.”

    Kailu headed down the steps going to the warehouse where he would sort out supplies for their trip back to Genad City. Raithion watched his best friend leave for a few minutes, then glanced at the ring on his left ring finger. It was a Maenaer ring that also symbolized his marriage to Naeri. It sat calmly on his left ring finger and the urge to fling it across the practice yard was great. The rage that burned with a bright fire lingered in his gut. He reached for the blades he always wore in the scabbards at his waist and touched the intricate handles.

    “What are you up to now, Azula?” Raithion wondered.

    ****

    In the capital, the scent of mint toffee filled the afternoon air in the Maenaer compound. The sun was high, the peach trees were showing signs of blooming, though the weather had not let up yet. The courtyard was filled with activity, the groundskeepers trimmed decorative bushes, and the roses that Silveren had grown for the last five years.

    A young lady swept the path leading to Raithion’s residence. At the entrance, two children sat on a clean mat playing with toys. A maid watched over them with careful dedication.

    Beyond the open doors of Raithion’s residence was a great hall arranged for comfort and gathering. In the evening, Lady Naeri Maenaer and her children would always be found sitting on the comfortable couches, playing games, sometimes Naeri would read stories to the eldest son. Other times, she would hum songs to the children. A large armchair was placed in the living room at the most honorable and prominent spot, but it was rarely used by its owner.

    Naeri often sighed when looking at the large empty armchair.

    It was the end of the month, a day before the weekend. Usually, Raithion returned to the residence on Fridays when he was working in the capital city. He came to deal with pressing issues in the household during the weekend. However, his shadow had not crossed the gate for a year and a half. Naeri’s sighs had not stopped since he left, and they were likely never to stop until Raithion arrived. Everyone in the manor knew the reasons why but tried not to mention the reasons why.

    ***

    On Sura Island, in a cave Azula regarded as his second home, a grinding, metallic, noise filled the cavernous space, followed by a curse and the sound of falling tools.

    “Godfather dropped the gears.” A young boy’s voice reached Azula. “Here.”

    “Thank you, Ruri,” Azula said, taking the small gears from cute little fingers. He shifted on the platform he lay on to look at his little nephew.

    Ruri’s name was given to him by Lasma. She wrote it as “Ruairidh,” but she was the only one who did; the rest of the clan wrote it as Ruri. Ruri was a cute little copy of his father, Yemin, with a dash of Alise. The kid had the same pointed chin as Alise, but his expressive wide eyes were similar to Yemin, or so Alise and Lasma said. Ruri was a beautiful boy. He was four years and some months old. His baby strawberry hair was held in a ponytail with tight braids made by his mother. He wore a bright green tunic with gold embroidery on the collar and a dark pair of trousers, his small feet in small, cute black boots made by Senin. Azula smiled as he stared at the curious little boy. Ruri followed Azula everywhere, which usually got them in trouble often.

    Azula grinned because Ruri’s face was currently covered with smudges of the dark grease they usually obtained from Nerasa. He reached out to make a perfect dot on Ruri’s forehead with his index finger.

    “I can see you’re going to be a gear expert like your godfather in the future,” Azula said.

    “Gear expert,” Ruri clapped when Azula took the gears from him.

    “That’s right,” Azula said, then adjusted the gears he held and concentrated on making them fit into their designated spots. He fit the gears in and nodded when they settled in perfectly.

    “Ruri, my little ancestor, go sit on the long stick on the carriage for godfather,” Azula said, pointing to a long handle near where Ruri was standing. The carriage base was not complete, so Ruri climbed on the carriage floor with ease, his short legs pumping hard to climb up. Ruri then skipped to the handle, and, with some maneuvering, he sat on the long handle and held on to the sides of the handle with a pleased grin.

    “Now what, Godfather?” Ruri asked.

    “Now,” Azula watched the lever come down slowly with Ruri’s weight.

    The gears he had worked on for days started moving, each one doing its share of work to keep the cogs moving. Azula grinned as the gears picked up speed. Azula slid out from where he was lying and wiped a hand over his face to get rid of sweat. He noticed he still had dark grease on his hands too late.

    Ruri giggled as he looked up at him.

    “Godfather has dirt on his face too,” Ruri said between childish giggles.

    Azula stepped away from the rough prototype he had created. It wasn’t complete, but at least his idea was coming together. His thoughts had been on the efficiency of transporting the ore to the clan’s workshops in the village center for a while. The men who oversaw the ore transportation were getting on in age, and carrying large bundles of ore out to cargo carriages was backbreaking work and time-consuming.

    Azula wanted to create a cart that could carry a sizeable bundle and then move it with a simple lever. The lever Ruri was sitting on only needed to be shifted, and the cart would move down the rails Azula had been having the men lay down from the mine exit to the village center.

    Ruri clapped with excitement as the gears kept moving, and he lost his balance, almost falling off the lever.

    Azula lifted the boy off the lever and turned off the mechanism.

    “Ruri, we did it,” Azula said, lifting Ruri up and placing him on his shoulders.

    “We did it!” Ruri echoed, his hands clinging to the thick black hair clip that held Azula’s long strawberry hair. Hair that held no braid to this day. He was still considered a mourning chief in the clan.

    Azula ran around the open space of the workshop, making Ruri clap with glee.

    “What are we celebrating? Ruri is so happy,” Lasma said, as she entered the workshop.

    “Godfather made gears move,” Ruri said, clapping with joy. “He made me sit on the lever, and it was like magic. They went up and down, click, click, click.”

    “Like magic,” Lasma grinned. “Your godfather knows how to give you a great time. Goodness, your faces are full of dark grease. You both need a bath.”

    “We need a bath!” Ruri said.

    “Only knows how to repeat things,” Lasma chuckled. “Come, we need to head back home now. Azula, I came to find you because the council has requested a meeting this evening.”

    “Why?” Azula asked with a groan. “All they do is talk and impose regulations on me. I’m exhausted and would rather be laying tracks on a cliff on the mountain. Have Juya stand in for me.”

    Lasma bit back a chuckle at Azula’s unwillingness for politics.

    “Will you have Juya attend all your council meetings then?” Lasma asked.

    “He’s great at explaining what those people want after they ramble on for hours,” Azula said as they left his workshop. The path outside was well-paved and led from the relative quiet of the foot of the mountain to the back gardens of the Doriel family home.

    “Mom, how long do you think it will take Alise to notice that Juya is in love with her?” Azula asked.

    Lasma clasped her hands behind her back as they walked.

    “I don’t know,” Lasma said, looking up at Ruri, who was enjoying his ride on Azula’s shoulders. “Perhaps, you should be asked the same question, Azu. When will you notice the golden-haired general, Trevan of Nerasa, is in love with you. Everyone has noticed that he is the only reason you’ve managed to keep our island from an annexation battle with Nerasa Kingdom. He is protecting Sura Island.”

    “He is protecting us politically,” Azula said. “But that’s not the reason we are still free of the Nerasa Kingdom’s pressure. We technically still belong to the Lyria Kingdom. Trevan is wary of the Lyria Kingdom’s legions. He knows a war between them would devastate trade and this island. So, Nerasa is hesitating. It is to our advantage that they keep hesitating, but it won’t last. This must be what the council wants to discuss.”

    “Yes,” Lasma confirmed as they approached the back courtyard of the Doriel home.

    The scent of cooking filled the air, the women in charge of the kitchen were busy making the midday meal. The Doriel Manor fed almost fifty people daily; workers in the workshop where Azula liked to manufacture his blueprints. His master had long left the crafting to him and moved to the yard controlled by the Sura in the Nerasa Kingdom. Azula visited him when he could extricate himself from the yoke of governing the thriving Sura Island.

    “Azula,” Lasma said, her tone somber as they slowed their walk. “Our island has grown under your guidance. Our people have stable livelihoods, the farms are filled with harvest, the children are going to school and have hope for their futures and careers. The eldest of our people are well taken care of.” Lasma smiled. “Perhaps this is what your father dreamed of creating when he tried to have the clan thrive in Genad City. You have made it happen on our island despite being a chief appointed in a time of great tragedy.”

    “There are cracks in the barrel,” Azula reminded his mother, pausing by a stone outdoor table. He lifted Ruri from his shoulders, kissed the boy’s cheeks as he set him on the table.

    “Be careful,” Lasma said as Ruri jumped off the table and ran into the house with great enthusiasm. “Look at him, running wilder than you when you were a toddler.”

    Lasma sighed, then turned to look at Azula.

    “What cracks are you talking about?”

    “Our people are comfortable, no longer worried about surviving,” Azula said, then met Lasma’s gaze. “They have time to think about what happened five years ago. The questions have been whispered often around me.”

    “You think our people wonder about their loved ones who died in Lyria,” Lasma said.

    “I don’t wonder, I know,” Azula said, crossing his arms against his chest. He tried not to think about the Lyria Kingdom. If he tried to spend a minute thinking about it, he might abandon his promises to his mother and set out on a revenge spree. He still wanted to know why his clan, his father, had to endure such betrayal in the capital. Closing his eyes, he forced the negative feelings under control and focused on the present.

    “Mom, Sura Island is doing well now,” Azula said. “While we don’t need the mainland, we still need to navigate a path into full independence. We need to find a way to escape if Nerasa Kingdom brings up annexation.”

    “It’s good that you know that you can’t string along the golden-haired general for another five years,” Lasma said with a chuckle. “You’re also right, while our people wonder about the past, I pray that the Lyria Kingdom does not remember us and our ability to pay taxes. I can only imagine what kind of demands they will make on us should they land on our shores.”

    Azula dropped his arms to his sides and shook his head. “Okay, I’m getting a headache discussing this situation. Can we continue later and deal with it when it is absolutely necessary?”

    “You’ve said that for a year,” Lasma said as Azula started walking to the door. “We’re already at the absolutely necessary juncture. We need to find a solution soon. I’m telling you that is what the council will push for.”

    Azula sighed. “Ask Juya and Alise to think on it and figure out what to do next.”

    “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing when you say that,” Lasma said in exasperation.

    “Mom, sometimes, I’m just letting you know that I’m a very lazy demon and would rather be smearing grease on my face in my workshop than figure out political games.”

    Azula entered the kitchen and grinned when the women all greeted him with enthusiasm. They forced him to wash his hands and face in a large basin filled with hot water, before offering him a plate of food. Now this was the right kind of problem to manage, he thought as he received a plate filled with roasted sweet and sour chicken.

    ***

    In the grand palace in the imperial capital, Genad City, two boys sat on a clean, colorful mat playing with toys in the bright sun-filled greeting room of Rose Hall.

    Basilinna Soriel was hosting the noble and notable ladies of Genad City to celebrate the warmer weather. They were having afternoon tea and pastries made by the skilled palace baker and an exciting reading by a popular romance writer.

    Soriel moved around the room talking to the women and building bonds. She provided help and support on any reasonable requests. It was her small way of winning support for her husband in the imperial court. She was winning the wives’ hearts to soften the husbands’ goals, wielding soft power to win the hard hearts of the power-mongering courtiers.

    Soriel finished a conversation with the prime minister’s wife, who wanted her to attend her daughter’s birthday. She went to join her mother and Noriel who sat on a couch by the windows showing off the rose garden at Rose Hall.

    Soriel sat next to Noriel and let out a soft, tired sigh. Meira, Soriel’s silent guard, moved a few of the attendants to block the view of the three women from the rest of the room. Soriel accepted the cup of orange juice Noriel gave her and drank it in one go. Placing the cup on the table, she sighed when she met her mother’s amused gaze.

    “Your gift of gab has only grown these five years. It surely should tire you,” Silveren said. “All these ladies have received a kind word this afternoon. Your husband may not be happy with your burgeoning social calendar.”

    “He will have to appreciate it. The relationships I’ve been cultivating have grown strong enough to rival Olneth’s authority,” Soriel said, her gaze shifting to the two boys playing on a mat a few feet away. “Our son depends on my husband gaining more strength. So does Raith’s son. Speaking of which, why didn’t Naeri come with you today?”

    ***

    Silveren sighed. She looked at the rest of the hall and was glad to notice the visiting ladies had tacitly moved to the other end of the large room and were busy tasting pastries and talking about the story the writer had read earlier. The weather had stopped snowing and the ground was thawing, the flowers beginning to bloom, while the farmers prepared for planting.

    It was a time of renewal.

    Silveren hoped her son, Raithion, would find it in his heart to forgive his wife soon.

    “Word came from the Commandery Office this morning,” Silveren said, her gaze on the four-year-old boy sitting a few feet away.

    His name was Yulin Maenaer. He was Raithion’s heir, a child born by Naeri after she drugged Raithion using an unknown aphrodisiac at a party in her parents’ home. Naeri’s apothecary was skilled. She got pregnant with the first try and to a boy no less. While Raithion could not forgive her first betrayal, Silveren could not fault Naeri for helping to stabilize their family’s future. With an heir, both Thanir and Raithion’s titles were secure. Still, Silveren had no idea how to heal the planet-sized rift that had grown between Naeri and Raithion.

    “Raith is supposedly heading to the capital. He should be arriving today or tomorrow,” Silveren said, looking away from the children to meet Soriel’s knowing gaze.

    “It’s good that he is coming back,” Noriel said, her gaze shifting to Yulin. “His son should spend more time with him. At this rate, Yulin will start thinking our father is his father.”

    Soriel sighed. “Naeri stayed home to prepare for him, I guess.”

    “Mm,” Silveren said. “She’s cooking and cleaning and arranging for new clothes for the children and Raith.”

    “He will end up here in the palace,” Soriel predicted with disturbing accuracy.

    Silveren smiled because her youngest daughter knew her eldest son best.

    “Raith stays in the commandery prince quarters or at the barracks with his soldiers when he is in the capital. He has done that since Naeri drugged him the second time to get Skye.”

    “The girl is a year and a half, so cute and cuddly,” Noriel said. “How does brother stay so angry at his wife?”

    “Your marriage is loving, sister,” Soriel said, sipping a second cup of orange juice. “Your husband has not done anything to betray your trust since you married. Your son, Leisha, is happy and running around in a loving family. What has Naeri done all this time in our Maenaer home but fill it with aphrodisiac poison plots,” Soriel scoffed. “Which of us has dealt with such frightening things?”

    Noriel sighed and reached for her teacup and took a slow sip.

    “Mom, you’ll have to take care of Yulin and Skye,” Noriel said after a period of silence. “Don’t let them learn bad things from their mother. Naeri’s methods are too cunning for our straightforward home.”

    “I know,” Silveren said with a nod. “In any case, the children are our blood, regardless of how they came into existence. I’ll have Jaguar start teaching Yulin when he turns five years old.”

    “That’s good,” Soriel and Noriel both agreed.

    Jaguar was a scholar who the Maenaer family had sponsored in Draeya County. He had taught all the Maenaer children, and his school was based in the family home in Draeya County.

    “Isn’t five years old too soon to take a child from his mother?” Noriel asked after a moment.

    “When your mother is as scary as Naeri, who is advised and hounded by Gesi Ajai,” Soriel said, shaking her head. “I think this child should leave the kingdom and go to a foreign land until we can subdue his father. Since that is not an option, and he is of our blood, we must get him to choose our Maenaer values.”

    “Little bird is right,” Silveren nodded in approval, her gaze shifting back to Raithion’s son.

    Yulin got up on the mat, followed closely by his cousin, Rane, the Basileus’s heir, and the boys raced to Silveren’s side.

    “Grandma, a gift,” Rane said, holding a bright green feather that had probably escaped a flower pin worn by one of the ladies and had fallen on their mat.

    Silveren chuckled and took the bright green feather. “Rane and Yulin are so cute. They brought me a feather. What should I give you in return?”

    “A peach,” Yulin said, his eyes so green and bright just like his father’s, sparkled with hope at this age.

    “A jade,” Rane said, also looking at her with Soriel’s brown eyes.

    Silveren sighed. Her children had given birth to replicas of themselves. Yulin, the four-year-old boy, only ever wanted to eat good things, play to his heart’s content, and sleep, just like his father when he was young.

    Rane, on the other hand, was truly a prince. He played with expensive jade and gold, but his heart was pure, and he loved his cousin.

    Silveren reached for a peach slice on the table and gave it to Rane. Rane turned and gave it to Yulin without hesitation, making sure his cousin held it well before he smiled wide. Yulin took a bite of the fruit and Rane clapped.

    Silveren wished life was just as easy as Rane and Yulin’s cute relationship. She wished there was an easy way to heal Raithion’s heart. She stroked Rane’s dark hair and reached out to caress Yulin’s cheek before she looked at Soriel.

    “If Raithion comes to the commandery office, tell him I’m looking for him. There is a repair list for the manor’s defenses that needs his attention.”

    “I’ll tell him,” Soriel said.

    “Tell him he doesn’t need to sleep in his residence. Our main house has many rooms,” Silveren said with a sigh. “I’ll let him use as many as he wants.”

    Noriel grinned. “It’s almost the Spring Festival. I’ll visit to make him the mint toffee he likes to eat.”

    Soriel chuckled. “Everyone in this city remembers how much he loves your mint toffee.”

    Silveren smiled as her daughters laughed at the happy memory.

    ****

    Naeri arranged a blanket over her daughter in the rocking bassinet. They were in the great room, sitting on the long couches near sunny windows. Her gaze shifted to the large armchair that she always hoped Raithion could use but never did, and her heart ached.

    She pricked her finger with the needle she held and brought her left index finger to her mouth to suck the welling blood. The dark cloak she held had an intricate white-lion embroidery she was trying to finish on the hem. She wanted to gift it to Raithion when he came home, that is, if he would even accept it.

    Sitting on a stool opposite her was Rassa, her closest attendant. Rassa was finishing up the work on one side of the cloak with the help of a young lady.

    Raithion’s housekeepers, two sisters named Aryn and Sira, had gone with Silveren to the palace. The butler was busy managing the daily needs of the manor, and the last of Raithion’s trusted attendants, a young man named Sharian, had gone with Raithion on his expedition to the border.

    The rest of the attendants who ran the residence were loyal to Thanir and Silveren and often left with them when the couple was not around. Which meant the manor was quite peaceful for the moment, with only Rassa and the young girl from Naeri’s household.

    Naeri had declined Basilinna Soriel’s invitation as she wanted to make sure their residence was neat in case Raithion arrived home. She had not seen him for a year and a half. In truth, she had not seen him since she gave birth to their daughter, Skye. The girl was already born, but her husband could not forgive her misdeeds.

    Naeri let out a soft sigh and reached over to hold the handle of the rocking bassinet. She moved it from side to side, her gaze on the cute little girl who had dark hair like her father and brown eyes to match Naeri’s.

    Raithion gave beautiful children. It was a pity she would only get two from him. He now treated her worse than a leper. She was not to be touched, like a terrible illness.

    “What do you think can change Raithion’s attitude toward me?” Naeri asked Rassa. “He is so set against me. I don’t have a place to start with him. Surely, five years have passed. Others look at us like we are an old married couple. If they knew that he can’t stand to drink a glass of water near me, let alone look at our children, wouldn’t it be a joke.”

    Shaking her head, Naeri lamented her strange fate.

    “Give him another year,” Rassa said. “Perhaps when the children are running around and voicing their opinions, there will be a way to soften his heart.”

    “But,” Naeri started, then stopped, staring at the orange jade ring she wore on her left ring finger. She had clearly stood in the large Maenaer hall, watched as the Basileus officiated their marriage in person, only to face a cold husband in the side residence. Draeya Commandery Prince Raithion Maenaer did not try even once to give her a chance. He had been cold and unyielding from the start.

    Faced with her father’s constant nagging to get an heir, she had no choice but to seek help from the apothecary who had taken care of her since childhood. She had thought that once their first child was born, Raithion would soften toward her, but he’d only grown more distant. Then, two and a half years ago, in a fit of desperation and selfishness, she used the apothecary’s drug in Raithion’s bathwater. It resulted in Skye, but a clear break emerged in her marriage.

    Raithion moved out of their residence and went to live in the Commandery Office full time. No amount of pleading, threats, or requests would change his mind. A year ago, he had left the capital to patrol the state’s armies and the kingdom’s borders on behalf of the Basileus.

    The heartache of loneliness was something Naeri could not describe to Raithion’s happily married sisters and mother. Not even the powerful Basilinna, who had all of Raithion’s support, could understand.

    Naeri was well aware that she was quite pitiful as a wife. She could only rely on Silveren and Thanir’s parental power to control Raithion. His parents were the only people who could summon their son home. She had no power over Raithion, and it was the saddest thing in the world.

    Naeri sighed again.

    “Well, let’s get the cloak done,” she said, picking up her needle. “Lady Silveren got a list from Butler Daron asking my husband to help fix the back wall of our residence. The defenses have deteriorated. He is now powerful in the capital, and his enemies grow every day. I know he will come to help fortify the walls. At the very least, he will finally put eyes on Skye, poor girl has never seen her father.”

    “Don’t worry, My Lady,” Rassa said, smiling as they both looked at Skye, who was sleeping peacefully in her bassinet.

    ****

    It was raining hard when Raithion finally arrived at the Maenaer Manor in the capital. It was almost midnight. Daron got the guards to open the gates and light the lamps.

    “Lord Raith, welcome home,” Daron said as Raithion dismounted his horse and handed the reins to the waiting stable steward.

    “How is everyone in the house?” Raithion asked Daron as he entered the main house.

    “His Grace, your father, is in Draeya County inspecting the planting season at the estate,” Daron said. “Lady Silveren visited the palace today. She returned an hour ago and has gone to sleep. The Commandery Princess has retired to the side residence.”

    “Don’t wake them,” Raithion said, then nodded to the three cargo carriages waiting. “The legion officers will offload the supplies we need for the repair lists. There are packages put together by Kailu and Sharian. Sharian collected gifts for everyone in the house. Distribute them as you wish.”

    “I’ll make sure everything is arranged,” Daron said with a pleased smile. “I had Aryn and Sira arrange your quarters on the first floor of the main house. No one has had access to them other than me, Aryn, and Sira. We have not told the side residence where you will sleep.”

    “Thank you,” Raithion said, entering his parents’ house. He greeted Aryn and Sira, who were waiting for him at the stairs. His clothes were soaking wet after his hectic ride in the rain. The girls first led him to a hot bath, then upstairs to his rooms, where he changed into comfortable clothes and fell on his bed into a deep sleep.

    The next morning, Raithion dressed for a day spent working at home in a soft white tunic, dark trousers, and boots. He had no need for weapons at home, but he did keep daggers in his boot. It was Saturday, and his mother’s list weighed on his mind.

    He went downstairs to the dining room and was eating grilled chicken slices, tomatoes, and slices of bread spread with soft cheese when his mother came down.

    “The birds must be flying upside down this morning,” Silveren said as she sat at the round dining table. She accepted a cup of warm water from Aryn and drank it with a small smile.

    “Daron,” Silveren said when the butler came in, carrying a kettle filled with hot water for tea. “Can you look out the windows to make sure the birds are up the right way? My son is sitting at my dining table. I must be dreaming.”

    “You’re not dreaming, Lady Maenaer,” Daron said, amused. “Lord Raith came home late last night. He did not want to wake you after a tiresome day.”

    “Mm, how good he is to his mother,” Silveren said, then glanced at Raithion, who was watching her quietly. “Are you injured?”

    “No,” Raithion said.

    “Would you tell me if you were?” Silveren asked.

    “No,” Raithion said.

    Silveren scowled at him.

    “I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily,” Raithion said.

    “Then, aren’t you concerned that I would miss you if you were gone for a year?” Silveren asked. “What good things are at the border that you stayed so long?”

    “The border is secure. I’m not worried about war breaking out soon after the work we’ve completed,” Raithion said.

    “I’m so happy for you,” Silveren said. “Meanwhile, I’m worried the cold front that is raging in your house will turn my flowers frigid.”

    “Then, Daron, start the fireplace in the great room and warm up my mother’s flowers so that they don’t freeze,” Raithion said.

    “Do you think we’re discussing peonies?” Silveren asked, sipping the steaming tea Aryn served her.

    “Then what would we be discussing?” Raithion asked as he finished his food. He pushed his plate aside and poured himself a second cup of hot tea, sipping it with a contented smile.

    “How long will you keep up a cold front with your wife?” Silveren asked.

    “I can’t trust her with my clothes, food, bedding, bathing water, hell, the first time she drugged me with wine at someone else’s home during an event. You tell me, Mother, where should I start?”

    Silveren stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “Then, Yulin and Skye, where should you, their father, start with them? They are yours.”

    “She takes care of them—”

    “I’m not done,” Silveren cut in. “Those children are innocent. They are Maenaer, born in these halls. They are part of the future you’re working so hard to protect. As their father, where should you start? Holding such a long grudge, you will end up hurting them.”

    “My grudges shall be resolved by me when I’m good and ready to do so,” Raithion said. “As for the innocent, Mom, I can only entrust them to you. If you leave them to me, I will poison them with anger and hate.”

    “Raith,” Silveren said, her eyes suddenly filled with tears.

    “This is the most I can do at the moment,” Raithion said honestly. He had had a year to think about his current predicament with Naeri. His heart was not resolved to the betrayals she had placed on him. If she wanted children, she should have agreed to discuss it with him. Perhaps they would have found a way, but to force him… he shook his head and met his mother’s gaze.

    “Give me time,” Raithion said. “Let me work at finding peace to deal with this in my own way. Call Jaguar and have him start training the boy early. Let the child leave this place and go run in the wilds of our Draeya County. He will be able to stay open and carefree for a while longer before he learns the truth of his father and mother.”

    Raithion got up then, pushing his chair back.

    “Today, I’ll fix the walls and the defenses as you’ve asked. I’ve tasked Kailu with rotating the guards in the manor,” Raithion said. “I’ll head back to the Commandery Office tomorrow morning.”

    “Raith,” Silveren cried out in protest.

    “Dad has everything he wanted in place,” Raithion said, his voice hard. “The power, the titles, a future heir, a powerful Basilinna, and his alliance with the Basileus is assured. How I’m living now is the best way for me to survive all this joy he has worked for. Don’t judge me for it. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

    ****

    Saturday morning, Naeri left the Maenaer Manor early without telling Silveren. She wanted to get butter from her mother’s workshop. She had discovered that their house made very good butter. Raithion was partial to mint toffee, and while she could not make it the way he liked it, Silveren appreciated fresh butter. So Naeri tried to get a fresh batch from her family when Raithion was around.

    Her mother was excited to see her when she arrived. She got a scolding for having left the children at home, but she was in a hurry to get back. Naeri had only brought Rassa with her. Benira Ajai was still adamant about feeding her a cup of tea, so they sat on the patio at the back of the house and ate pineapple pastries.

    Naeri found herself relaxing as she listened to her mother discuss their neighborhood’s gossip: who had a new baby, which daughter was caught seeing a man she shouldn’t, which family had gained or lost wealth. It felt nice to sit around and listen to gossip.

    Suddenly, Naeri realized the Maenaer women did not gossip like Benira. No, Silveren, Noriel, and Soriel discussed the harvest, planned parties with dignitaries to achieve specific goals, and managed war supplies for their brother and Thanir Maenaer.

    Here in her mother’s courtyard, the conversation was simple, down-to-earth, and easy. Naeri smiled as her mother reached up to help her fix a flower pin that was askew.

    “I heard that Raithion is back in the capital,” Benira said. “The girls went out to fetch fresh milk from the dairy, and they saw his right-hand man riding into town. He must have arrived very late last night.”

    “Mm,” Naeri said, though it was news to her. No one in the manor had alerted her that Raithion was already home. She had left the house early, thinking he would be arriving later. Her heart skipped a beat. She needed to get back home fast. Raithion was like a fast wind. He came and went in the blink of an eye.

    “I should take the butter home. My husband is always so busy,” Naeri said, placing her cup down. “I want them to use the butter from our workshop for the mint toffee he likes.”

    “Okay, I’ll go hurry the steward. You should say hello to your father before you go. He’s in the greenhouse,” Benira said as she got up. “I’ll have the butter ready by the time you get back.”

    “Thanks, Mom,” Naeri said, getting up and tidying her skirts. She hurried to a path that would lead her to the back of the mansion. She was in a hurry as she walked down the path to her father’s greenhouse. She only realized her father had guests when she was close to the door, and it was almost too late. There were three bushy mulberries near the greenhouse entrance, so Naeri ducked behind one of them to avoid disturbing her father. He got very angry if he was interrupted. Patting her chest for thinking fast, she let out a relieved breath and settled down to wait for her father to finish.

    Then her father’s voice drifted to her. He was angry, raging…

    “…the Prime Minister has gained support these last two years. Basilinna Soriel has made quite an effort in helping her husband gain the support of Libert ministers. She holds soft power, which she understands how to use, thanks to her brother’s backing. These siblings have made it nearly impossible to go against her and her support for the Prime Minister. We are at an impasse. Our Populi party cannot shake the Prime Minister’s position,” Gesi Ajai kicked something and let out a growl. “I need something to shift this deadlock. Otherwise, we’ll never win more leverage at court.”

    “What about the plan Rosner gave up?” Sazama asked. “It’s still viable. Rassa is here too.”

    Naeri clamped a hand over her mouth, wondering what her closest attendant was doing with her father.

    “I’m here, but what does that have to do with Rosner?” Rassa’s voice drifted to Naeri.

    Naeri’s eyes widened as she realized her closest attendant worked for her father. No wonder, she thought, as fear bloomed in her heart. No wonder it was so easy to get the apothecary’s aphrodisiac when she needed it.

    Of course, Rassa would have been the one to tell Gesi that Raithion was cold toward her. Then he would have pushed for the apothecary to make the formula that she had given Raithion. It had happened so easily, so fast.

    “The Draeya Prince is around,” Rassa said with confidence. “I can keep an ear out and see if he will host the Prime Minister at the manor. Sazama can handle it if the Prime Minister doesn’t visit. I would prefer it, as it reduces the risk for me. The Draeya Prince is very strict with security.”

    “Do you have it?” Gesi asked. “Sazama?”

    “I have it,” Sazama said. “I’ll give a portion to Rassa. She will know how to brew it in tea. One big sip and we will not have to worry about the Prime Minister.”

    “That is if Rassa is able to act when he visits the Maenaer,” Gesi said.

    Naeri gasped and could not hold back the sound in time. Fear propelled her into a run, and she took off at a fast sprint, heading back to the patio where her mother had served tea. She did not look back as she ran to see whether her father’s accomplices had seen her. Her heart pounded so hard in her ears she could not think.

    ****

    “Damn it, it’s Lady Naeri,” Sazama said, coming back to the greenhouse after going out to investigate the foreign sound. “I just saw her running back to the main house.”

    Gesi cursed under his breath. “This girl is going to drive me crazy. Rassa, I need you to manage her. Find a way to convince her about our plan. If you can get her help, it will be even better. The faster she realizes her husband is a liability, the better.”

    Rassa nodded. “I will convince her. Besides, I can also get her to believe she misheard you. Don’t worry about it.”

    “I’ll trust you with this,” Gesi said. “It’s hard enough with everything that’s going on.”

    “I’ll handle it,” Rassa promised.

    ***

    Naeri forgot the butter she was collecting from her mother. She ran out of her parents’ home and into her carriage and urged the driver to go back to the Maenaer residence. Her heart raced with cold fear as she tried to decipher what Rassa, Sazama, and her father were discussing.

    It sounded like an assassination attempt on the Prime Minister, sickening to imagine. She worried about her husband. Despite their endless cold war, Raithion was the father of her children. Her future and the children’s future depended on his well-being. So, a Prime Minister dead or poisoned in their home would utterly make their world end.

    Shaking her head, she was glad when the carriage came to a stop outside the main gate. She exited too fast and hurried up the steps to the front door, only to be met by a smiling Silveren.

    “Naeri, where did you go? I was looking for you. It’s already afternoon, Child. Your husband is in the main hall of your residence,” Silveren said, taking Naeri’s hand and guiding her into the house. “Why do you look so pale? Are you ill?”

    Naeri felt tears prick the backs of her eyes as Silveren stopped and pressed the back of her hand over Naeri’s forehead.

    “Mm, your temperature feels okay,” Silveren continued. “Come on, I think you should rest for a while, then find your husband. Try to mend what is broken. Slowly, okay? Don’t lose hope.”

    “Thank you, Mother,” Naeri said, her voice soft, her heart still pounding in her chest. It was a wonder that Silveren could not hear it. Silveren led her to the back exit of the main house. The door opened to a short path that led into the courtyard and the house Naeri lived in.

    Silveren let her proceed alone. Naeri took in the men hard at work on the perimeter walls in the distance. There were also two men on the roof, mending leaks she had not gotten to amid the multitude of tasks she had to perform.

    It felt nice to have someone else take up the repairs. Removing her overcoat, she stepped into the great room and paused when she saw Raithion sitting in the large armchair arranged for him, just as she had dreamed when she placed it there.

    How many times had she watched and waited, hoping he would come home and occupy the armchair? Now, seeing him sift through invoices and talk to Daron, paying invoices and signing household expense requests felt so right.

    Naeri could not stop the tears that filled her eyes. She had to tell Raithion what she had heard. Maybe it would bring them closer, perhaps… it would make up for all the wrongs she had done to her husband.

    ****

    After a marathon of repair work, Raithion sat in the armchair in his great room to authorize monthly repairs. It was his fault he had neglected the care of the residence, as the funds came from his personal accounts.

    “Daron, if there is any urgent problem with the house, send Sharian to the barracks or the Commandery Office. Don’t let it get to the point of disrepair,” Raithion said.

    “I understand,” Daron said as he watched Raithion set aside money for the invoice that would help the manor guards replenish arrows used on mounted bows on the perimeter walls from the imperial warehouse.

    “These are invoices from the tailor. The Commandery Princess had clothes made for the children,” Daron said.

    “Mm.” Raithion signed the invoice and set aside money for the expense. The amount was usual for clothes tailored for the people in the house. He just had never needed to make such a payment before.

    “I’ll excuse myself,” Daron said after a moment. “I’ll leave these invoices with you.” He placed the stack of five invoices on the stool next to Raithion’s chair.

    Raithion glanced up, wanting to ask why Daron was leaving, only to see Naeri coming to sit on the couch to the left of Raithion’s armchair. She looked nervous. She wore a beautiful pale blue dress with a fitted bodice and long silk skirts. Her blonde hair was tied in an intricate style, held together in a convoluted manner by pins.

    Naeri looked at him with worried brown eyes, and Raithion felt a punch in his gut, the kind he hated, as he wondered what plot she was spinning. It annoyed him that she could not be trusted.

    “My Lord,” Naeri started. “It’s good to see you home. It’s been a long time.”

    “It has been,” Raithion said, thinking it was not long enough.

    Every time he looked at Naeri, he could not help remembering the endless burning sensation of the poison she put in his drink at that party, or in the bathwater. He had endured an excruciating burning that could only be relieved by bedding her endlessly, caught in an inescapable lust that made him feel both pleasure and disgust. He closed his eyes and let out a small breath.

    “Is there something you need to tell me?” Raithion asked, as he forced his focus on the remaining invoices on the table in front of him.

    “I—” Naeri started, then paused when one of her attendants brought a kettle and two cups.

    The young lady was followed by Yulin, who glanced at Raithion with a shy, hopeful innocent smile before he leaned on his mother’s lap.

    The attendant left. Naeri, knowing Raithion would not drink tea she had poured, made herself a cup and kept the teapot closest to her.

    “Mom,” Yulin said. “I want tea.”

    Naeri gave Raithion a nervous glance, but she took the second cup and poured Yulin half a cup of the tea, then blew on it to make sure it was not too hot. Naeri placed it on the side for their son, then picked up her cup and took a few sips, as though to fortify herself.

    “My Lord, there is something I must tell you. I went to see my mother this morning and—” Naeri broke off, pressing her right hand to her stomach with a small frown. She shrugged and continued. “I know you don’t like to hear much about my family, but—”

    Yulin took his cup and sipped it, but then Naeri gasped and hit the cup their son held, spilling the tea on the floor.

    Raithion frowned as Naeri turned to him with wide eyes.

    “I—” Naeri started as she stood up, her hands pressed to her stomach, her expression twisting with pain. “I’m sorry.”

    Raithion got up as Naeri started to fall to the floor, as Yulin broke into painful cries.

    “Daron!” Raithion called out as he caught Naeri. He lifted her and carried her to one of the long couches in the great room, arranging a pillow under her head. He started to move away to get Yulin, but she gripped his right wrist.

    “Wait,” Naeri said, coughing, and Raithion frowned as he noticed the blood coloring her teeth. “I—I’m sorry for everything. I—I didn’t know. M-my father—”

    Naeri broke into a coughing fit just as Daron, Sharian, Aryn, and Sira entered the great room.

    “Lock down the manor,” Raithion ordered, but his voice sounded distant, as if it belonged to someone else. “Get a healer here, and, Daron, guard that tea kettle and the teacup with your life. Sharian, ride to the palace and get Volker to send the imperial coroner, Dain. He will know what to look for in the tea. Send for an imperial healer.”

    “Yes, Your Grace.” Sharian, Aryn, and Sira ran out of the room to make sure Raithion’s orders were followed. The healer who lived in the manor came running in, and Raithion moved away to give her space to check on Naeri.

    “Lord Raith,” Daron said, and Raithion turned to find him holding an unconscious Yulin.

    Raithion crossed the distance in three numb strides and gathered the boy from Daron’s arms. He frowned when he saw Yulin had blood on his lips too.

    Yulin’s weight was too light. His small hands were cool. A cold rush went through Raithion’s chest like water, shocking and blinding, filling him with helplessness. He laid Yulin on the couch next to the one with his mother and arranged him carefully. He smoothed his palm over the child’s dark hair, felt the slight dampness of sweat, the too-still breath. Something tore in him, low and unfamiliar, raw as ripped cloth.

    Raithion sighed and turned to see what the healer was doing by Naeri’s side.

    “Raithion,” Naeri’s whisper had him getting up. Raithion moved to the other side of the long couch and found Naeri watching for him with wide, bloodshot eyes.

    “Don’t panic, I’ve called for a healer from the palace. They will have an antidote,” Raithion said.

    Naeri let out a soft chuckle and shook her head, then motioned for him to lean closer. She took in a deep breath when Raithion bent down close to hear what she was saying.

    “I-it’s too late. S-save Yulin. Fi-ind R-Rassa,” Naeri’s voice faded.

    When he straightened, her gaze did not follow. The healer checked her, and Raithion frowned when, after a moment, she shook her head, indicating that his wife had passed. The room went suddenly quiet, except for Yulin’s unsteady breath.

    ****

    The gates of the Maenaer Manor were locked and sealed. No one inside the manor grounds could leave. The imperial healer arrived first and rechecked Naeri, confirming that she was already dead. She had been killed by the poison in the tea she had drunk.

    Silveren ran into Raithion’s house in a panic and stared at Naeri, who was still lying on the long couch. The healers were now focused on Yulin, who lay near his mother, alive but unconscious. The two healers were trying to identify the poison used in order to give the right antidote. Sharian had yet to arrive with Dain.

    “Who could have done this?” Silveren asked in shock. “She was fine when she walked in earlier. How could this happen? Raith?”

    “The manor is locked down. We’ll find out soon,” Raithion said, his voice low. Inside he felt hollowed out, as if something had scooped him clean. “She wanted to tell me something, something about her father. Then she drank the tea and fell to the ground. It was too fast. She asked me to find someone named Rassa. Who is that?”

    “Her closest attendant,” Silveren said.

    “Why did she leave this morning?” Raithion asked.

    Silveren shook her head. “I give her freedom to live her life. She’s free to visit her maternal home as she wills.” Silveren sighed. “She heard you were coming home and probably wanted to get butter. Naeri claims… claimed the butter from her family brought out the mint toffee best.”

    “Did she bring any butter?” Raithion asked.

    Silveren shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll have to check with the main kitchen.”

    Raithion nodded and turned to face the front door, where there was a commotion. Sharian had returned with Dain, the imperial coroner. Kailu and Haedor followed them in. They all wore the same shocked expressions when they saw Naeri lying on the long couch.

    Dain did not hesitate. Taking the kettle from Daron, he got to work immediately. Aryn and Sira brought him any utensils he asked for, and within minutes he poured the tea into a large bowl and began investigating the dregs.

    “There are seeds here,” Dain said, lifting one with a small pin. “They look like they are from the devil’s trumpet. Use activated charcoal on the boy.”

    The imperial healer mixed a vial of activated charcoal into a bowl, and with Aryn’s help they got Yulin to swallow most of it. The child coughed and swallowed, limp and obedient.

    “The rest will need time,” Dain said. “Whoever made this poison has layered different herbs.”

    “Is Yulin safe?” Silveren asked, moving to perch on the edge of the long couch where Yulin was.

    “We’ll have to watch over him and treat his symptoms as they come, for now,” the imperial healer said.

    Silveren let out a soft cry and reached for Yulin’s hand, holding it tight.

    Raithion stepped to Naeri’s couch and looked down. Her eyes were closed. Blood had dried at the corner of her mouth. The cage of pins held her hair perfectly. He placed her hands over her stomach and touched the orange jade ring on her left hand. He straightened her skirts, then stepped back, helpless, at a loss for what else a man should do for the wife he had not learned how to forgive and now would never see again.

    A knot formed in his chest. He did not know whether it was grief or guilt. Perhaps both. He had stayed away. He told himself he was protecting what remained of his self-respect. Now, what did that self-respect stand for?

    Raithion turned to Yulin. The boy’s lashes trembled against his cheeks. Raithion felt the pain sharpen, clean and unbearable. Suddenly the four-year-old boy was not an heir described on paper, not the consequence of a crime, but a breathing child who carried his blood.

    “Raith,” Silveren said softly. “We should begin to plan a funeral.”

    Raithion nodded and looked to Daron. “Treat her funeral as befits the lady of the manor. Give her all the rights of the Commandery Princess. Report it to the palace.”

    Daron bowed and hurried away.

    Raithion lifted Yulin. The boy’s weight settled against his chest. Too light. Too warm at the forehead, too-cold tiny hands.

    “I will take him to his room,” Raithion said. “Imperial Healer, I hope you can find a cure soon. Aryn and Sira will make sure you have everything you need.”

    “Thank you, Your Highness,” the imperial healer said.

    Raithion glanced at Kailu and Haedor. “Find the assassin. Naeri mentioned Rassa. Find her and discover what’s going on.”

    He held his son closer, feeling the small thud of Yulin’s heart against his own, and carried him upstairs.

    ****

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 9

    Ch 9

    On Sura Island, at the foot of Mount Sura, Azula sat in his boat in the middle of the lake, staring at the letter delivered by Vandra, Teba Inn’s owner in the port city. He was the only one willing to show them kindness, and he sent them messages by pigeon. Magnus claimed that Vandra owed him a favor for saving his daughter from a bandit, so their ties could not be easily severed. Still, they had to be careful not to place Vandra’s livelihood in danger, so they would not rely on him too heavily.

    Azula stared at three letters in total, Vandra’s that had arrived in the morning, one he had been hauling around like a dark talisman, and a third from his mother.

    Azula wished he could ignore them all, wary of the sense of crisis and anger filling his heart. Life on Sura Island was full of growing pains. They were building homes for newcomers and finding ways to restock the dwindling grain in their communal warehouses. There were school-age children who needed a place to study, craftsmen out of work who needed a new way to earn an income, and the sick who needed skilled healers. Azula was overwhelmed.

    He reached for the first letter and frowned as he read. The letter was the magistrate’s order, signed and stamped to make it official, an order asking the Draeya general to find the thieves plaguing the Sura and bring them to justice. Azula scoffed every time he reread it. What a performance the general had staged.

    He stabbed the letter in the middle with a dagger, holding it in place on the wooden bench of his boat. He would keep it until he met that master of ashes again for answers.

    Azula reached for Vandra’s letter. It was a listed account of events that had happened since the Sura Clan had been expelled from the capital.

    The first news was that all Sura Workshops in Genad City were seized by the finance ministry. Their tools and products were confiscated by the imperial court. Azula scoffed at the greed of the imperial court officials. Their livelihood had been taken over as if it were a common product.

    The next item on the list was the fate of any Sura Clan members who were discovered still in the city. Azula bit his bottom lip when he read the list of nearly twenty of their people who were murdered by rogue mercenaries on their way to the port. There was no mercy in the Kingdom of Lyria.

    Wiping away tears, Azula read on.

    The minister named Gesi Ajai had landed a windfall by becoming the new minister of finance and leaving his ministry of agriculture to a subordinate. Azula frowned; somehow, that felt important, but he could not fit it into his clan’s misfortune. His attention was pulled instead to a note on marriages.

    The first was that the Draeya general’s little sister had been named the new Basilinna, which elevated her family’s status. Marquis Draeya was now a duke, while his son had become a commandery prince.

    Raithion was now a glorified general who could command all His Majesty’s armies. Along with the new station, the Draeya prince had married Gesi Ajai’s daughter, making her a commandery princess.

    Azula sneered. Gifts and rewards all around after betraying his people. Vandra had finished the letter by attaching a notice he had found on the streets. It read, “The Commandery Prince Draeya has seized and sealed the Sura Clan Chief’s Manor. None shall be allowed to enter or own it.”

    Azula felt pain strike deep in his heart. His father’s house in the capital was no longer theirs. He had not even gotten a chance to sift through it. What did the Master of Ashes want with it?

    Crumpling the letter with a force of anger, he dropped it on the bottom of the boat and stepped on it. He then reached for the neatly folded paper his mother had given him the day before. It was a letter from his father. She claimed Marius had written it before he left the manor with the legion officers who captured him.

    Azula had no courage to open it when his mother gave the letter to him. His father’s death felt like a cruel joke. Every morning for the last two weeks, since the funeral and the tattoo on his back, he had opened his eyes and hoped he had escaped the nightmare. Alas, hopes and dreams could only fill his imagination. Reality was far more punishing.

    Breaking the seal Marius had placed on the thick letter with green beeswax, Azula unfolded the letter.

    “Azula, Don’t make that face full of grievance. I’m eternally disappointed that I won’t get to scold you when you arrive in the capital. Don’t be sad, little demon. Whatever you find, know that I’m forever happy to have been your father. I’m very proud of you. Your dad is proud to have called you a son. Take care of my wife for me, let her smile often, and even though Alise is always so strong, be a place she can come to complain and lean on. How short life is. Azula, live a long, fun one and be as wild as you have always been. I love you. Dad.”

    Azula could barely read the “Dad” Marius had signed at the bottom. His eyes filled with tears. The grief he had been fighting for days as he planned a funeral, managed the clan’s needs, and settled their people broke through.

    A harsh sob escaped his lips, followed by a second. A deep, cavernous pain opened in his chest. He sobbed and cried loud and rough, shouting as much as he could as the pain filled him up. In the middle of the lake he so loved, only the fish and creatures in the deepest part could hear his grief. So, he let it rule his soul for a while.

    ****

    Alise sat on a bench outside, taking in the cool fresh air before she had to go back to bed for rest. A thick cloak was wrapped around her. The comfortable seat afforded her a beautiful view of the lake where Azula liked to swim. An hour ago, she had watched her brother push his boat out, saying he needed some time to take in the quiet of the lake. She wanted to enter the house when he was safely back on solid ground, so she watched his boat in the middle of the water.

    She was absentmindedly staring at the figure on the boat when she noticed Azula dive into the lake. She counted minutes, waiting for him to resurface beside the boat, but he never did.

    “No.” Alise stood, dropping the cloak on the ground. “No! Azula!” She started running down the short path to the end of the dock where Azula’s boat was usually tied. “Azula! Azula!”

    She screamed his name, hoping he would resurface, but she could not see him.

    “Azula!” she screamed again, hysterical, tears filling her eyes. What if he had drowned? What would they do? “Azula—”

    “Alise.” Magnus, their uncle, wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

    Alise gripped his jacket, pointing to Azula’s empty boat. “He went into the water and hasn’t surfaced. We have to go get him. Let’s go! What if something has happened to him? Uncle, hurry.”

    “It’s okay,” Magnus soothed, pulling her into his arms.

    Alise tried to see Azula’s boat, she turned to see her mother running down to join them, followed by Alvas, Kalas, and Senin.

    “Go get him,” Magnus told Kalas. “Tell him his sister is worried.”

    “They have to get to him fast,” Alise said, pulling away from Magnus. She started to follow Kalas to the large boat that the boatman had brought to the dock. “I’ll go—”

    “No.” Lasma reached for her, while Alvas wrapped her shawl around Alise’s shoulders. “You’re still healing, child. Let Kalas and Senin go. Stay here with us.”

    ****

    Azula treaded water, letting the weight of it heal the worst of his grief and wash away the tears he had shed until his eyes felt swollen. He held his breath a moment longer, enjoying the tunnel of light that shimmered through the surface to light the water, until ripples filled the surface and he saw an oar waving above. He sighed and swam up, wondering if Alvas had arrived again to threaten to empty the lake.

    He was surprised to find an anxious Kalas and Senin leaning over the larger boat.

    Pushing his hair back, he wiped water from his eyes and frowned.

    “What happened?” Azula asked.

    “Alise saw you jump into the lake,” Kalas said. “You didn’t come up in time, so she panicked and started screaming. She is convinced you have drowned. Come on. If we don’t get back to shore soon, she will come out here herself.”

    Azula reached for Kalas’s hand and let him pull him up into the smaller boat.

    “Did she forget I can swim underwater?” Azula asked as he gathered his letters and put them in the pocket of his coat. Kalas tethered the small boat to the big one, and Azula joined him in the larger one, where he started changing into dry clothes.

    Senin helped the boatman row back home at top speed.

    “Your is stressed,” Kalas said. “You’re her only brother. She just lost her father and her husband. She’s a little raw right now. Everyone in the clan is, you know.”

    Azula sighed and pulled on a dry white tunic and his wool trousers. He wore his socks and barely had time to put his boots on when they arrived at the dock.

    “Where is he?” Alise called out, her voice shaking with fear. “Did you find him?”

    Azula, hating the sound of her fear, climbed out of the boat. “Alise. I’m okay. Wh—”

    She did not give him a chance to complete his sentence. She ran into his arms and burst into hard sobs, her body shaking. Azula wrapped his arms around her and stared at his mother and Magnus in shock.

    “I thought you drowned,” Alise said between her sobs. “I can’t lose you too, Azula. You have to be okay. Do you hear me? You’re all we have left. You have to be fine.”

    Azula closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, holding her gently as he tried his best to soothe her. He let her cry it out. Then, when she was depleted, he carried her into the house, taking her straight to her bed. He left Alise’s side when she fell into a deep sleep at dusk.

    Heading downstairs to the great room, he found Magnus and Lasma talking with the council members. The Sura Clan had suffered too many losses. The council members sitting in their Doriel house were all new, save for Juya, Magnus, and Lasma. All the others had been caught in the massacre as they tried to help people to safety.

    Juya was still running the clan’s communal finances. Magnus and Lasma were managing the community’s social welfare. Kalas was in charge of the mining of ore and the logistics to the warehouses. Alvas oversaw schooling the young ones, while Lasma and Juya managed the older children’s schooling needs.

    Senin had taken on the role of trying to help clan members set up any economic activities they needed, while Azula needed to find a way to sell their goods as the island adjusted to a new world.

    They had gained two people who had been based in the capital.

    Tanya Nuovis, a woman skilled with blades and knives. She could fight off the strongest man. Juya insisted she had protected him when he was on his way from his house to find Alise after Marius’s arrest. Tanya oversaw the training of the first batch of Sura Clan warriors. She was to be helped by the second person Azula did not know, Wolfe Silverberry.

    Wolfe Silverberry was a warrior who had trained in the city’s garrison. He was quite skilled with a sword. He had the build of a warlord and the temperament of a wolf. His anger was hard to manage. His son was the boy who was lynched outside an exchange bureau. His wife had died years before, and his son was his only remaining family. Now he burned with an anger Azula was sure would not end quickly. He could only pray that anger would not consume Wolfe.

    Azula watched the group of people now responsible for the clan for a moment longer before he fully entered the great room. Alvas noticed him first. She stood up and moved to a table where she filled a mug of hot green tea for him.

    Azula accepted the mug with a grateful smile and sat in the closest armchair.

    “How is Alise?” Lasma asked.

    “She’s asleep,” Azula said. “I didn’t know she would get that worried about me going out for a dive.”

    “You jumped into the lake,” Magnus said. “Anyone who doesn’t know about your strange hobbies will think you’ve decided to end it for good. Don’t do that anymore when she’s around.”

    “Mm,” Azula said with a sigh, sipping his green tea. “Juya, how is the grain holding up?”

    “We need a refill of stock in eight weeks,” Juya said. “The only healer we have also says we need to supplement our meals with meat and start finding healing herbs. While we can hunt in the forest, we need to find a way to sustain our consumption. Someone in the farms on the other side of the mountain suggested farming chicken and ducks.”

    “We should get the hatching eggs from the mainland,” Tanya said.

    Azula thought about the letter from Vandra. “I got a letter from the innkeeper today. Anyone from the Sura Clan on the mainland is dead. Mercenaries got to them on their way to the port. We can’t risk an excursion into Lyria Kingdom.”

    The room filled with silence as they thought about the families waiting on news of their missing loved ones.

    “Then,” Magnus said, breaking the silence, “the northeast is our only path now. We should consider how we’re going to approach trading with the Nerasa Kingdom and their Rewa Port.”

    “Yes,” Lasma agreed. “Everyone should write a list of immediate needs. Juya, let us know where we are financially. The Lyria Kingdom denaris may need exchanging for Nerasa gold.”

    “I’ll tally what can be used,” Juya said.

    “Let’s not forget that we’re changing how we manage our administration offices,” Lasma said. “We need more accountants to help Juya, skilled ones to help Tanya and Wolfe, and teachers…there are so many spots to be filled.”

    “Even as we restructure our leadership, our immediate issue is finding a way to sustain our island’s food supply,” Azula said. “Mom, you find a way to convert more of the fertile lands. See if we can farm rice, and vegetables.”

    “I’ll talk to the women,” Lasma said.

    “I have modified a cargo ship,” Azula said, meeting Magnus’s gaze. “I have a tentative plan on how we can approach the Nerasa Kingdom, but it will need some statecraft.”

    “I can’t go with you,” Magnus said, his gaze shifting to Lasma. “While you travel, you’ll need me and Kalas here to manage the day-to-day.”

    “That’s okay,” Azula said with a quick smile. “I want to suggest bringing Juya with me. He’s been in the capital and helped Dad and Alise navigate the politics in Genad.”

    “I can’t,” Juya started to protest, but Azula grinned at him.

    “Don’t you want to discover if there are more amazing precious stones in the world?” Azula teased. “You’ve already appraised the ones Lyria Kingdom could offer. Surely Nerasa has new types you can exploit.”

    “You’re so sly, preying on my habits. I’m half worried about sinking in a ship you’ve modified,” Juya said, shaking his head.

    “Hey, my skill is very good. Even if it sinks it will because we made a navigation mistake,” Azula said. “I need you to be very confident in my skill because that’s what we’re going to build our reputation on in the Nerasa Kingdom.”

    “What do you mean?” Lasma asked, her worried gaze resting on Azula.

    “We will not sell ore to Nerasa. We will sell them finished products and negotiate the sale of blueprints for trade rights,” Azula said.

    “Would that work?” Wolfe asked.

    “It could,” Juya said. “Meaning we won’t need to open workshops in their territory, just sell skilled workshops the know-how. In some cases, we’ll need to approach high-level officials to work in small cities, but in larger ones we can offer to train artisans in well-known workshops. If they agree, the Sura Clan gets money, and we can do with it what we will.”

    “Mm,” Azula said. “See, Juya knows what he’s talking about, even though I’m just guessing at it. Once we have enough money, we bring it back and build what we need here and figure it out as we go.”

    Lasma sighed, while Magnus grinned.

    “Well, I guess the first thing to do is to test your modified cargo ship,” Magnus said. “If it is seaworthy, then we can plan the first trip to the Nerasa Kingdom. Let’s hope Juya can refine this plan of yours.”

    “It will work,” Azula said, confident in his crafting skill. He had no idea about building a nation, but he certainly knew how to make things people wanted to use. The more they wanted to use them, the more money they could make, and with money, Sura Island would survive. “Okay, let’s start planning…”

    ***

    As plans went, it wasn’t the most brilliant, and there were too many variables that affected the result. Some of which included an unforeseen life-changing storm that capsized Azula’s modified cargo ship. Thankfully the ship was close to land, and even though the crew barely survived, they landed on the shores of the Nerasa Kingdom relatively in one piece. There were no losses of life, but they had little to no money to implement Azula’s economic ideas. Azula, Wolfe, Sennin and Juya and a small crew of five men all decided to find work first, then figure out how to send grain supplies to the island by the end of the month.

    The Nerasa Kingdom was bustling, the port vibrant and a melting port of culture. No one wondered about the Sura Clan’s strange hair color because the Nerasa people had more outrageous colors, there were even people with white and green hair. So, the port of Rewa welcomed a shabby crew of Sura Clan members who worked on the docks to gain money for sustenance.

    One night, two weeks after their arrival in Nerasa, Azula was sitting by the beach, mourning the fate of his capsized ship, when he spotted a man drowning in the ocean. Afraid of watching a life being lost, Azula ran to save the drowning man. Once he pulled the heavy, tall man with unusual flaxen hair out of the water, he sat next to him at a loss.

    The man was dressed in a Nerasa army uniform that declared him a general.

    Azula wondered what kind of fate he had, meeting so many generals in a lifetime. He got up, ready to walk away, but the Nerasa general held on to his ankle and looked at him with startling blue eyes.

    Afraid of losses, as previously experienced under the Master of Ashes in the Lyria Kingdom, Azula kicked away the hold of the golden-haired general and ran back to the inn where his people were staying temporarily. He fell asleep, endured dreams of Alise giving birth to a son who turned into a mischievous urchin, then woke up to find their inn filled with Nerasa soldiers. The general had come to find him.

    Thankfully, their lackluster luck changed that day.

    The golden-haired general turned out to be the son of the prime minister. He had fallen into the water from a cliff at his residence. Azula had no interest in asking why the General was walking so close to the edge of a cliff. In any case, the general’s name was Trevan Pearcliff.

    Trevan was staying at the port of Rewa, hoping to find a way to transport sand from a nearby lake to the capital of the Nerasa Kingdom. It looked like a test given to him by his superiors.

    Juya was quick-witted and managed to attract the general’s attention with a blueprint of Azula’s cargo carriage. The golden-haired general commissioned three large cargo carriages from the clan and found them a yard to work in at the port.

    Azula, Wolfe, Senin, and even frail Juya along with their crew of five men worked hard, day and night, conscious of the two-week deadline at home. They managed to make the three cargo carriages and were paid once the sand was filled in the carriages without mishaps.

    Elated with their work, Trevan commissioned five more carriages, which gave them enough money to buy grain and send it with two of their crew to the Sura Island.

    With Juya’s help, Azula negotiated with Trevan and managed to get the golden-haired general to sell them the plot of land where they were working. Trevan helped them acquire a trade permit, helping them establish a small presence in Rewa Port.

    From there, the Sura Clan established a strong sustainable trade with the Nerasa Kingdom. Azula discovered that the currents into Nerasa Kingdom needed experience and know-how. So, he set to understanding the maritime navigation rules of entering Nerasa waters and built two more cargo ships. Once the ships were completed, the island focused on export trade.

    All their products were made and forged on the island and sold from the yard at Rewa Port. The only thing they created on Nerasa soil was the cargo carriage, and Azula took great effort to train the Nerasa metal crafters Trevan brought to him. He showed them how to make the cargo carriage to avoid conflict with the region’s trade rulebooks.

    On the island, the Sura council used the money Azula brought back to build homes, administration buildings, three schools and a healing center. They sent Sura scholars to Nerasa to train as teachers, healers, builders, as Nerasa had a vast sea of knowledge in building buildings. Some of the Sura Clan members made good friends, and soon merchants interested in Sura products brought their ships to the north of the island.

    Magnus and Lasma built a trading port on the north side of the island that traded with ships on the way to other lands and provided a resting stop for travelers. The port was protected by the soldiers Tanya trained, and she was soon referred to as General Tanya by all her recruits. In time, Sura Island established itself as an island nation.

    In the blink of an eye, five years passed, and Azula was already acknowledged by the people in the Nerasa Kingdom and beyond as the prince of the Sura Nation.

    ****

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 8

    Raithion entered the palace but did not go to find Soriel first. He went to the commandery offices and found Haedor having a meeting with the team of legion inspectors responsible for investigating the case in the palace.

    “Your Highness,” Haedor said in greeting. The legion inspectors all saluted Raithion when he entered the large office.

    “At ease,” Raithion said and moved to take the chair behind the desk. “Give me an update.”

    “Two days ago, Princess Soriel found a dead palace maid in her closet,” Haedor said. “She was fast in her thinking. She sealed her room and called Lord Maenaer. It allowed us to take over the scene and the body.”

    “What have you found?” Raithion asked, his fists clenched into fists at the thought of the shock Soriel had faced.

    “The palace maid died of poisoning,” Haedor said. “Lieutenant Volker followed up with the coroner at the palace morgue. The poison used was belladonna.”

    “Belladonna is a forbidden herb within the palace walls,” Raithion said.

    “Yes,” Haedor agreed. “Someone must have smuggled it in.”

    Raithion shook his head and sat back, staring at his legion officers.

    “Where was the palace maid assigned to work?” Raithion asked.

    “She is not on any roster,” Volker said. “We have combed through the month’s list ledgers and cannot find her usual post.”

    “Every attendant in the palace has a task to complete. Otherwise, they are not meant to be in the palace,” Raithion said, holding Volker’s gaze. “It is not that she is not on the list ledger. It is that the list she is on is missing. Find the missing ledger.”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Volker said, tapping his partner on the shoulder. They left the office to complete the task.

    “What else?” Raithion asked.

    “The girl’s family has scattered,” Haedor said. “I have two legion officers on the task, but we may need more.”

    “The poison could have originated from their residence,” Raithion said. “Add in four more.”

    Haedor pointed to four legion officers who got up and left after a swift salute.

    “Where is Kailu?” Raithion asked.

    “He is working on the inside of the palace,” Haedor said. “I had him join Princess Soriel’s guard. Your father gave him a token from Basileus Dio that allows him to move around the palace without restriction. He will reach out if he discovers something new.”

    Raithion nodded, satisfied that most of the work was half done.

    “I want to see this girl,” Raithion said, standing up. “Then I’ll visit Soriel.”

    “I’ll take you to the morgue,” Haedor said, leaving the commandery office. “Did you succeed?”

    “Yes,” Raithion said as they walked along the vast corridors of the palace, headed to the back buildings where the morgue was located. “It wasn’t easy, but he is safe.”

    “For now,” Haedor said.

    “Yes,” Raithion nodded. “I’ve set safeguards to help protect him in case of trouble.”

    “What happened to him was a tragedy,” Haedor said.

    “No, it was a betrayal orchestrated by my father,” Raithion said, self-loathing filling his heart. “I was unable to do anything for him. I owe him for a broken promise.”

    Haedor sighed and did not comment.

    They stepped outside and found themselves in the back gardens of the palace. The palace morgue was built in the farthest corner of the vast imperial property. They needed horses to get there. Haedor’s assistant met them with a pair of horses. The ride to the morgue was fast.

    The head coroner received them with a solemn face. He saluted Raithion, acknowledging his new status in the palace.

    “Report your findings to His Highness,” Haedor said when they stood before the dead girl’s corpse. She was wrapped in a white shroud and lying on a slab of ice. Her body was clean and ready for burial as soon as Raithion ended the investigation.

    “We have meticulously documented everything we found on her. I’ll state the obvious first,” the head coroner said. “She died of poisoning. The contents of her stomach include a peach blossom cake. Our poison tests show that this peach blossom cake is the source of the poison.”

    “How long have you worked in the palace?” Raithion asked the coroner. He looked older, already in his fifties.

    “Fifteen years,” the head coroner answered.

    “Do you recognize her?” Raithion asked.

    “No,” the head coroner said. “But that is not unusual. My place of work is not auspicious. I run into palace maids who work in the outer wings of the palace or in the kitchen where we get our meals.”

    “So, would you say she is someone who works in the inner palace?” Haedor asked.

    “Yes,” the head coroner said, touching her folded uniform. “The fabric of this uniform is the answer. Expensive silk and embroidery accents are found on palace maids working in the inner palace.”

    “She is not on any roster,” Haedor said.

    “Then, she works for someone with enough authority to make her existence disappear,” Raithion guessed.

    “Don’t burden me with such information, I like my head on my shoulders,” the coroner said. “Let me finish my report.”

    Raithion hid a smile at the head coroner’s will to survive. He spent most of his morning hours listening to updates from the head coroner, who documented all the palace maid’s injuries before and after death.

    ***

    Raithion visited Soriel in the afternoon. He needed to change and dress in a formal uniform to enter the inner palace and meet with the soon-to-be Basilinna. The process allowed him to clear his thoughts. The case facing them was simple yet complex.

    On the surface, a girl was poisoned with belladonna, and her body was hidden in Soriel’s chambers. The palace guard commandery should solve the crime and bring the culprit to face justice.

    Hidden, in this case, was the girl’s true identity. Her clothes belonged to the inner palace, which meant she was under the control of the Dowager Basilinna Olneth, Dio’s mother. He doubted Dio’s grandmother and aunt would want to harm Dio’s bride. Still, perhaps someone in their households worked for Olneth.

    Why Olneth? Raithion frowned.

    His father had evidence that the Dowager Basilinna wanted the power to control the throne. Which meant taking control of the newest Basilinna. She had tried to get Gesi Ajai’s daughter in place, but since that failed, she wanted a way to control Soriel by placing Soriel in the middle of a murder case.

    Raithion smirked. Let’s see you try to control a Maenaer.

    An attendant led Raithion to Rose Hall, Soriel’s residence when he was ready. He was not surprised to find Dio waiting with Soriel when he arrived.

    Soriel looked beautiful in a long gold dress, the skirts shimmering in the sunlight. Her hair was brushed to perfection and restrained by golden leaves in the form of a crown. She looked lovely in her royal clothes. She sat in an armchair, her hands resting on her lap.

    Raithion noted how hard she had to work at not running to hug him. She visibly clenched her hands on her lap and smiled at him.

    “Your Highness,” she said with a demure tone, her gaze shifting to Dio before she smiled at Raithion. “You have returned.”

    “Yes, and I received your message,” Raithion said. “Are you alright?”

    “Of course she’s alright,” Dio said, getting up from the couch to stand next to Soriel. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

    Raithion held his sister’s gaze, ignoring Dio’s comment.

    Soriel’s brown eyes were filled with mischief. Her lips twitched, fighting a smile as she held his gaze and he sighed in relief. At least they had not broken his sister’s spirit. It would be a tragedy if Soriel turned into an uppity highborn lady.

    “How long are you going to keep pretending?” Raithion asked.

    Soriel scowled at him, then to Dio’s surprise, she bolted out of the chair and raced to hug Raithion. Jumping on him with her usual energy, she kissed his left cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck.

    Raithion held her tight, hugging her back.

    “What took you so long? Lord Haedor would not tell me where you were,” Soriel complained. “Everyone in this place wants me to start calling you Your Highness. Even Pa keeps repeating the same things. It’s been so difficult. Are you really a Commandery Prince?”

    “I will always be Raith to you, Little Bird,” Raithion said.

    “Oh, thank the fates,” Soriel said with relief. She held on for a moment longer, then let go and he set her on her feet. “Where did you go?”

    “To fulfill a promise,” Raithion said, adjusting Soriel’s crown on her head. It was askew. “I like your crown, Basilinna Soriel.”

    Soriel turned to glance at Dio who had taken her seat. She shrugged and looked at Raithion.

    “He’s a good man,” Soriel said, her voice low. “I like him and want him to be my husband. Will you accept him the way you took in Nori’s Hujan?”

    “I think he has to take us in,” Raithion said, pressing his index finger into her right cheek. “He’s the Basileus.”

    “What a powerless position,” Soriel said, shaking her head. “He’s in trouble in this place. Someone dared to plot against us with a dead girl. It’s disgusting. He helped me escape the worst.”

    “Did he?” Raithion’s brow rose in surprise and glanced at Dio, who watched them with avid interest.

    “Yes,” Soriel said, taking his right hand. She squeezed it and smiled at him. “He sent his aunt to neutralize the Dowager Basilinna’s lecture. She saved me from an investigation.”

    Soriel tugged at his hand, her expression full of expectation and pleading. She was talking for her new husband and it irked him.

    Raithion fought a scowl and tightened his hold on Soriel’s hand. He led her to the couch and made her sit next to him.

    “Raith,” Soriel started.

    “I’ve heard it,” Raithion said, squeezing her hand. “Now, it’s my turn. There’s more to agree on before I commit.”

    Soriel nodded and remained obediently next to him.

    Satisfied with Soriel’s response, Raithion met Dio’s gaze and felt a wide chasm of anger and frustration open up inside him.

    “I’m angry with you, Basileus Dio. I can’t explain what your machinations with my father cost me,” Raithion said. “You’ve made me break a promise to someone important, and now I have no way to restore the break.”

    Soriel squeezed his left arm, but he ignored her.

    Raithion met Dio’s gaze. “I always keep my word, and you made me break it.”

    “Is this about the Sura?” Dio asked, his tone solemn to match.

    Raithion clenched his jaw, his hands in fists on his knees.

    “They did not deserve such a betrayal,” Raithion gritted out.

    “I agree,” Dio said. “I feel the same guilt you do, Raithion. But I have no power to protect them.”

    “You’re the Basileus.”

    “One with fractured wings,” Dio said. “I wish I could spread them and envelope everyone in my kingdom with protection, but I can’t. I have constraints placed upon me by court ministers with more power than I. I would save the Sura if I could. It pains me to have no power to change this truth.”

    “If you cannot protect others, how do you plan to protect Soriel?” Raithion asked.

    Dio fell silent and it was his turn to clench his fists on his lap.

    “No harm will come to her on my watch,” Dio said.

    “You can’t make that promise,” Raithion shook his head. “A dead body in her chambers is already enough of a threat. It could have been her.”

    Soriel gasped beside him, and Raithion sighed as he realized she had not thought of it.

    Dio’s gaze remained on Soriel for another minute, then he stared at the floor, his jaw clenched.

    Soriel squeezed Raithion’s left arm, she moved, getting up and walking over to Dio’s side. Raithion frowned when she turned and faced him, turning them into a unit. His little sister had grown up and dared to love a powerless Basileus.

    Raithion sighed.

    “Raithion,” Dio said. “I will do my best to protect Soriel. I will do everything to ensure nothing happens to her in my palace, including moving into Rose Hall. I’m begging for your support.”

    Raithion frowned at the plea.

    “No need to beg, little bird is by your side,” Raithion said, meeting Soriel’s hopeful gaze. “I have no choice but to give you support to make sure she survives. But, before I agree to help, I need a promise.”

    “Raith,” Soriel started to protest.

    “No,” Dio said, taking Soriel’s hand. “I will give the promise.”

    “You don’t know what kind of promise,” Soriel said.

    “It will be reasonable,” Dio said, smiling at Raithion. “Go ahead.”

    “The Sura Clan,” Raithion said. “I want to protect them. I also want the chance to clear their reputation when the time comes.”

    “Why?” Dio asked.

    “That is my business,” Raithion said. “But if you must know, count it as helping me fulfill the promise you made me break.”

    Dio held Raithion’s gaze for a moment longer, then nodded.

    “You’ll have full rights over the forged silver coin case when it is time. The Sura Clan is your burden.”

    “Good,” Raithion said, standing up, eager to leave. “I’ll take control of their manor in the capital and hold it under the Commandery Prince’s authority.”

    Dio nodded without protest.

    “What about the belladonna poisoned palace maid? ” Dio asked.

    “You received the reports from the morgue,” Raithion said, standing in the middle of the room. His gaze was on Soriel. “How many enemies can you have in this palace, Basileus Dio? The one you had to defend my sister from is the culprit.”

    Dio scoffed.

    “Of course, you would know the truth with one glance. I have to say the Maenaer family is not easy to manage. What do you plan to do? My aunt placed the work of bringing this case to court on your shoulders.”

    “Well, since we all know the culprit, we’ll have to play the entertaining drama she has planned. Don’t worry. I will make sure no one ever thinks of framing my sister with poison again.”

    “Somehow, hearing you say that relieves me,” Dio said with a grin.

    “I have to go,” Raithion said, turning to leave.

    “Raith,” Soriel said, drawing his attention.

    Raithion paused, turning to look at her. She still stood next to Dio.

    They made an interesting picture.

    Soriel with her sweet beauty, jet black hair long to her waist, and a royal gold dress that shimmered in the afternoon light. Dio dressed in a long white royal coat with gold embroidery sat in an armchair facing Raithion. They looked perfect together, but their union was weak. Dio needed more strength to protect his new wife.

    “Visit us often,” Soriel said. “I missed you these last few days.”

    “I’ll try,” Raithion said, winked at her then left.

    He was in a rush to seal the home Marius Doriel used to call home. He Raithion watched Haedor seal the gates of the Doriel Manor. His trusted legion officers had searched it thoroughly, making sure no one was inside. They left everything untouched, even the food was as just as Azula’s family had left it. Haedor supervised the officers nailing the gates shut and then painted the new Draeya Commandery Prince seal on the gates. A white lion’s head with the name Maener under it. Raithion stared at it with mixed feelings.

    The first time his father told him about the title, he hated it, but if it allowed him to protect Azula’s family, then he would use it to the fullest. Soft gasps from the spectators walking by caught his attention, though he did not turn to see who watched. Instead, he stood still, arms crossed, facing Haedor and the two legion officers as they worked on the door. Four legion officers guarded their horses a few feet away near the fence. The road was free for passersby, and a small crowd had gathered to watch Haedor and the legion officer work. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon.

    “Prince Draeya has taken control of the Sura home. I wonder if they found more evidence of the silver forging.”

    “I heard a palace maid died in the new Basilinna’s chambers.”

    Raithion’s attention focused on this comment. He had only been back hours in the capital. The case in the palace was ongoing, and he had not released any information on it. So, any stories on the streets were hearsay, or…someone wanting to complete their stage.

    “The Sura Clan may have tried to retaliate for their misfortune by hurting Her Majesty. She’s related to the Maenaer family after all. No wonder Prince Draeya has taken control of the Sura home.”

    Raithion frowned but he made no comment to the gossip. The case of the poisoned palace maid was complicated. Haedor finished with the seal and approached Raithion.

    “Should I follow up on these rumors?” Haedor asked.

    “No.” Raithion dropped his hands to the sides and turned to take in the curious crowd. He did not see anyone who stood out. “The Dowager Basilinna is trying to create a path for our investigation. Claiming the Sura Clan sent an assassin to retaliate against the Maenaer family for the clan’s betrayal. She’s trying to push the negative impact of the Sura Clan’s betrayal on our family.”

    Thinking about Azula’s anger when he last saw him, Raithion could almost agree with the Dowager Basilinna’s plan. However, she was not going to win this fight. Azula was not so vicious. Raithion also understood the young Sura Prince would not be bothered with revenge for the moment. Azula was probably absorbed with finding a way for the clan to survive on Sura Island. After all, all their grain came from the Lyria Kingdom. If the clan could not sail to the mainland to trade, they needed a new supplier for their grain.

    Shaking his head, Raithion gave the sealed door one last glance, then urged Haedor to their horses. The team of legion officers who now followed Raithion also mounted their horses.

    “Where to, Your Highness?” Haedor asked.

    “We’ll need to conclude the case of the belladonna-poisoned palace maid fast. I need to control the inner palace to protect Little Bird. Get everyone working, through the night if we have to,” Raithion said.

    ***

    Back in the commandery offices, Raithion looked around the large rectangular office and at his massive desk, which left no place for anyone to sit. He motioned to Haedor, and they got to work rearranging furniture. The massive desk was taken out and replaced with a long worktable that Raithion placed against a wall near the windows. He left the large chair in place and added a smaller desk where he could work on reports. A secondary table was moved in, along with six chairs and a bench, which was placed at the large worktable.

    Satisfied with the office, Raithion began reviewing the reports already waiting for him. The Commandery operated under the Palace Military Office. Raithion called in the owners of the reports and listened to multiple briefings on cases in Genad City. Some small and straightforward, others larger and tied to influential people in the capital.

    Raithion frowned. It looked like his father had placed him in an intelligence hub. The Palace Military Office was more powerful than the minister of defense’s office. It had information about everything that happened within the capital.

    It looked like Dio had prepared himself in the fight against his court officials. Unfortunately, without a powerful ally and force to back him, he could not execute his ideas without turning into a tyrant. His luck was good as he had then met Thanir Maenaer, delivered with convenience by the old Basileus. Yet, Raithion could only think that his father had quite a keen fighting spirit.

    His father was truly cunning, Raithion decided.

    “Your Highness.”

    Raithion looked up from the last report to find Lieutenant Volker from this morning standing at the door. Raithion urged him into the room with a nod.

    Volker came in, followed by three of his colleagues. They had three people in custody. Two women, one young in her teens and the other older in her sixties; the third person was a man dressed in palace guard uniform.

    “Continue,” Raithion said to Volker, who urged the three people to stand before Raithion’s desk.

    “The girl and her mother are relatives of the girl who died,” Volker said, and Raithion noticed the young girl wince and the mother bite back a sob. The palace guard placed a comforting arm on the older woman, his jaw gritted as though enduring the worst.

    “What is the girl’s name?” Raithion asked, nodding to a scribe, who was sorting out reports at the worktable, to move closer with a pen and start a new report.

    “The palace maid’s name is Eden Kata. She is the daughter of Deni and Lois Kata. The older lady is Lois. Her husband, Deni, died seven years ago. Eden is the older sister of Cherry Kata. The girl is Cherry.” Volker turned to the palace guard. “Eden was engaged to Palace Guard Fidias Pallas. Eden entered the palace four days ago. Cherry, you tell His Highness what you told me.”

    The girl held on to her mother’s hand as she faced Raithion and spoke in a trembling voice.

    “Eden was training to be a lady-in-waiting for Lady Naeri Ajai. The Dowager Basilinna even had her learn all of Lady Naeri’s favorite foods. Eden said that the Dowager Basilinna thought Lady Naeri would be the next Basilinna,” Cherry said. “Eden was disappointed when Lady Naeri was said to be marrying into the Commandery Prince’s household. Four days ago, she entered the palace to report to the Dowager Basilinna. She hoped to be allowed to leave the palace and return home.”

    “Why?” Raithion asked. “Just because she trained for Lady Naeri doesn’t mean she couldn’t serve Princess Soriel.”

    Cherry glanced at her mother, then at Fidias.

    Fidias dropped to his knees before the desk. Raithion sighed and urged Volker to help him up, but Fidias refused.

    “Your Highness, Eden and I were promised to marry. She was twenty and had agreed to marry me and start a family. We planned to leave the capital in a month and live on my plot in Naga State, where my family grows rice. She died before we had the chance. Your Highness, please help us seek justice.”

    Raithion nodded and signaled Volker to help Fidias stand. “We are working on it. Now, what time did she enter the palace?”

    “In the morning, the day before Princess Soriel moved into Rose Hall,” Fidias said. “She was to meet the Head of the Palace Maids to get her state registration and a release from palace employ. We planned to meet in the afternoon, but I was called to guard Princess Soriel at the Maenaer Manor. I left Eden a message at the gate. Princess Soriel moved into the palace the next day.”

    Fidias thought for a moment, then continued. “I went to her mother’s place after work to plan our move to Naga State. We didn’t know it was Eden who died until the Commandery legion officers came looking for a missing palace maid.”

    Raithion nodded and looked up to see Haedor returning. “Ask someone to bring the Head of the Palace Maids. I have questions for her,” Raithion said to Haedor, who left the office.

    “Mr. Pallas, did you check with the palace gates if Eden received your message?” Raithion asked.

    “No,” Fidias said. “I left the Maenaer Manor and went home. Today, Lieutenant Volker brought us in a hurry. I did not stop to ask at the palace gates.”

    “Volker, go see if the message is still there,” Raithion said.

    Volker hurried out. Raithion invited Eden’s family to sit at the table with six chairs, and a scribe brought them cups of water. Thirty minutes later, Volker returned with Fidias’s message still sealed in its envelope.

    “Should we open it?” the scribe asked.

    “No,” Raithion said. “Keep it sealed and record the officer who handed it to Volker.”

    Haedor returned with the Head of the Palace Maids soon after. She was a tall woman, dressed in a deep blue uniform of long skirts and a fitted bodice with intricate silver embroidery on the wrists and collar. A leather belt was tied at her waist, where a round silver medallion hung identifying her station. She nodded her head in greeting when she stood before Raithion.

    “Palace Head Chalia greets Commandery Prince Draeya,” she said, her tone full of authority.

    “Did you meet Eden in the morning two days before she was discovered dead?” Raithion asked, studying her expression.

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Chalia said.

    “What did you discuss?”

    “She wanted to leave the palace and gain a withdrawal from her contract,” Chalia answered.

    “Did you grant her the withdrawal?” Raithion asked.

    Chalia clasped her hands tight and took a small step back. She bit her lip, and Raithion narrowed his gaze.

    “Did you allow her to withdraw?” Raithion asked again.

    “Y-yes, Your Highness,” Chalia said, the anxiety in her voice unmistakable.

    Haedor led a team of palace scribes into the commandery office. They each held a pile of ledgers with lists of the palace maids. They got to work arranging the ledgers on the worktable and sorting them with unparalleled efficiency.

    “Lady Chalia,” Raithion said evenly, “I will warn you once. Lying to me is the same as helping the culprit. Eden was murdered with belladonna. If you killed her or helped the person who did, I’ll arrest you regardless of whom you serve in the inner palace.”

    Chalia gasped and took two steps back. Volker stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and pushed her into a chair as the scribes combed through the records. Finally, one found the ledger recording withdrawals and the issuance of certificates of leave and settlements for service.

    “Your Highness, there is a record of Eden being issued a certificate of leave,” the scribe reported, bringing the ledger to Raithion. The scribe arranged the ledger on the table and pointed at the column with the date. It was written the day after Soriel found Eden in her chambers. The last column was signed “Chalia Leas, Head of the Palace Maids.”

    Raithion thanked the scribe and placed the ledger with the letter from the gate.

    “Lady Chalia, why would you sign the certificate of leave two days after Eden had died?” Raithion asked, finding Chalia watching him warily.

    “Because…” Chalia began, then stopped. “I—I thought I’d get in trouble for refusing her leave until the end of the year. So… I—”

    “Why would you refuse to give Eden her leave until the end of the year?” Raithion asked, noting Fidias’s angry expression at the side table.

    “You seem to have no answers for me,” Raithion said, as he lifted the ledger on the table. “There was no reason to sign this ledger if you wanted to wait until the end of the year.”

    Raithion looked at Haedor. “Find Kailu in the inner palace. Search Lady Chalia’s quarters. Bring everything you think is of interest in her quarters. Have Kailu detain anyone who works close with Lady Chalia.”

    Haedor left, and in minutes, his team started bringing in items from Chalia’s quarters. Soon, the scribes needed to move the ledgers away as the worktable filled with boxes from Chalia’s quarters.

    Raithion got up from his chair, noting Chalia’s wary gaze as he walked by her and started perusing the items on the table.

    He paused by three sturdy wooden boxes. He opened them, one by one, and found a considerable stash of gold denaris. He lifted one gold denari and studied the imperial stamp on its surface before he turned to look at Chalia.

    “Quite a fortune for a palace maid, even one so high-ranked,” the recording scribe murmured beside him. “Strange, but these denari are only given to palace staff who have left service. Why so many?”

    Raithion smirked as he held on to one gold denari and sealed the three boxes. He asked the scribe to move them to his desk, next to the ledger and Fidias’s letter. He kept walking down and found a box filled with a wide collection of jewelry, including an array of hairpins with decorative flowers.

    Raithion turned to look at Chalia again. She wore her palace uniform, but her dark hair was held in a secure ponytail, and a pink hairpin with an elaborate array of flowers. She looked like she enjoyed decorative hairpins.

    “Fidias, bring Cherry closer,” Raithion said, turning to Eden’s family. He opened the box with jewelry wide and stepped away, as Fidias, Cherry, and Eden’s mother came to stand by the worktable. “Look at these and tell me if you recognize anything.”

    Raithion studied Chalia, who was wringing her hands on her lap. She sat with her shoulders squared; save for the wringing of her hands, there was no other outward indication that this moment was bothering her.

    A soft gasp from Cherry was all he needed to confirm his suspicion. He turned to find Cherry holding a hairpin.

    “This belongs to my big sister. She wore it the morning she left home,” Cherry said, tears filling her eyes.

    “Are you sure?” Raithion asked. “There could be duplicates, and she might have bought a similar one in the market.”

    “I can’t mistake it,” Cherry said, offering the hairpin with both hands. “The pin has my sister’s name engraved on the back. I saw it when I helped her put it on that day.”

    Raithion nodded and took the hairpin and studied it. Sure enough, Cherry was right. Eden’s name was engraved on the inner side of the bronze pin.

    “You were never going to let Eden leave, were you, Chalia?” Raithion asked, turning to the Head of the Palace Maids. Clasping his hands behind his back, he glanced at the boxes with gold on his desk. “In fact, I’m afraid all the maids who wanted a certificate of leave have ended up the same way as Eden.”

    “Your Highness, I don’t understand why you want to frame me,” Chalia spoke up, her eyes filled with anger.

    “Oh,” Raithion said with a soft chuckle. “We’ll see. Haedor, call the doctor from the healing clinic in the palace, the coroner, and…” Raithion studied Chalia, who was now watching him with wary eyes. “The baker in the palace. The one who makes pastry for the inner palace. Meet us in the main court. Tell Kailu to take the ones close to Chalia there too.”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Haedor said, and left to complete the task.

    “Lieutenant Volker, I have a task for you. It involves meeting the Basileus. Can you do it?” Raithion asked.

    Volker swallowed hard and then saluted with determination.

    “Yes, sir.”

    “Good man. Ask the Basileus to call a court meeting in the Imperial Hall. Invite the Dowager Basilinna and Princess Sanan, as well as the heads of all ministries.”

    Volker nodded and turned to leave.

    Raithion smiled at Chalia.

    “I only have one more question for you,” Raithion said. “What happens to you when the palace ushers in a new Basilinna?”

    Chalia shivered, and her fingers tightened on her lap. She would not meet Raithion’s gaze, so he turned to the scribe, who stepped forward to answer the question.

    “The appointment of a new Basilinna brings a change in the Palace Maid Office,” the scribe said. “The Basilinna is expected to audit and reshuffle staff according to performance. The only exceptions are the two palace maids under the Dowager Basilinna and the Grand Dowager Basilinna. Everyone else rotates or moves to new imperial residences. Some may even leave palace service.”

    “So, Lady Chalia was likely to lose her position,” Raithion said.

    “Perhaps,” the scribe replied. “The palace runs on merit. Anyone who performs well is rewarded.”

    “Of course.” Raithion nodded. “Thank you. Have your team move all the evidence on the worktable to the main court hall.”

    ***

    Gesi Ajai entered the Imperial Hall with a yawn. It was almost nine o’clock at night. He had no idea what madness had seized Basileus Dio to summon the court so late. He walked down the aisle formed by tables and chairs arranged for the ministers, passed the Ministry of Agriculture’s position, and took the empty table where the Minister of Finance used to sit, at the front right of the hall.

    Gesi sat, his gaze landing on Raithion Maenaer, Commandery Prince Draeya, who sat on the chairs reserved for the Palace Military Office at the very front, near the throne dais. Raithion wore a long dark coat; his dark trousers disappeared into heavy boots. His dark shirt bore silver and gold embroidery at the collar. Raithion shifted, and Gesi froze when he caught sight of the cuffs of the long dark coat. The cuffs were encircled with an intricate white lion embroidery, the new seal granted to the Draeya Prince.

    Gesi was caught between awe and jealousy. His house had no crest or title. Yet, the Maenaer family now had a Basilinna and a prince who would later take on his father’s marquis title. No, he frowned. Thanir Maenaer would be made a duke when his daughter married Dio. Shaking his head, Gesi let out a soft sigh. Some people woke up with the sun shining straight into their eyes, no struggle needed.

    Behind Raithion stood a tall, bulky man with an intimidating aura. Gesi wondered if Raithion collected such men to appear formidable.

    The table before Raithion was laden with items, including ledgers and wooden boxes.

    Gesi wondered what the new Commandery Prince was doing in the imperial court in the middle of the night, just hours after arriving in the city. It was telling that the room was filled with ministers; no one had refused the Basileus’s summons.

    Soon, the hall’s administrative scribes called for order. Gesi was shocked when Dio entered with Princess Soriel beside him, followed by Dio’s grandmother and Princess Sanan, with Dowager Basilinna Olneth behind them.

    Raithion stood, a fluid movement without a wasted gesture, as he greeted Dio with respect. His right hand pressed to his chest. The scribes waited for Dio and his family to settle, then turned to Raithion with varying levels of acknowledgment.

    Dio stood and smiled briefly at Raithion, then addressed the ministers.

    “We have called this meeting at the request of Commandery Prince Draeya. Proceed,” Dio said, and settled in his chair.

    Beside him, Princess Soriel sat with all the grace of a noblewoman, though her gaze watched her brother with interest.

    “Draeya Prince, why call a court meeting so late in the evening?” Firo Briale, the Imperial Tutor, asked, irritably.

    Raithion rose and, ignoring Briale, turned to Princess Sanan. “Two days ago, Princess Sanan asked General Haedor to find who murdered the palace maid found in Princess Soriel’s chambers. You asked me to bring answers to the court, and I have,” he said, his tone quiet and authoritative.

    “Draeya Prince is as efficient as the stories claim,” Princess Sanan said softly. “If you have answers, please share them with the court so we may be at ease.”

    Raithion thanked her with a nod and stepped away from his table.

    “Before we begin, I would like to ask one of the officers working in the treasury office to approach the dais,” Raithion said.

    Gesi tried not to frown as panic hit him. Was this about the counterfeit silver? He glanced at Dio, but the Basileus was focused on Soriel’s right hand. Dio had laced their fingers, smiling as he squeezed her hand.

    A finance officer hurried down the aisle to Raithion.

    Raithion handed him a gold denari. “What are you holding?”

    “A denari crafted by the Treasury,” the man said.

    “Are they available to the general public?”

    “No,” the officer said. “These are special gold denari given to those who leave the palace after their service. They can be kept at home or exchanged at the bureau. Small ones like this exchange for five hundred common gold denari. There is a larger size worth one thousand.”

    Raithion whistled and took the coin back. “So, they’re very valuable.”

    “Yes. Everyone who works in the palace hopes to receive a settlement in these for years of service.”

    “And years of service determine how many you get?”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” the finance officer said. “The longer you work, the more you get.”

    “Very good.” Raithion shook the officer’s hand. “Thank you. Scribes, record that information. I hope everyone remembers it.”

    Raithion asked the finance officer to sit at his chair, which surprised the man. The finance officer tried to decline, but the bulky man who had been guarding Raithion pushed him into the chair.

    Gesi Ajai hid his amusement and returned his attention to Raithion.

    Raithion faced the court. “Two days ago, Princess Soriel found a dead palace maid in her chambers, hidden in the closet. Rose Hall lost confidence in palace security. I’m here to restore it, with Basileus Dio’s permission.”

    “Continue,” Dio said.

    Raithion nodded. “We have identified the palace maid despite an orchestrated effort to conceal her origin.”

    He raised his right hand to beckon someone at the main door.

    Gesi Ajai turned in his seat to see who the Draeya Prince was inviting. He had to hide his surprise when he saw Eden’s mother and sister. He had been looking for Eden to join Naeri’s entourage as she prepared to enter Raithion’s house.

    What the hell were they doing here? Oh no, was Eden the dead palace maid? Unable to hide his frown, Gesi Ajai shifted his attention to Olneth, who sat next to the Grand Dowager undisturbed.

    Gesi looked at Raithion and cursed under his breath when he saw Raithion watching him.

    ***

    Raithion noted Gesi Ajai’s small movements but had no time to dwell on them. Eden’s family reached the front. They were nervous, especially Cherry, who clung to her mother’s hand and avoided looking at Basileus Dio.

    “The deceased palace maid’s name is Eden Kata,” Raithion said. “She is the daughter of Deni and Lois Kata. She was sister to Cherry Kata. Eden was engaged to Palace Guard Fidias Pallas.”

    Raithion bowed his head to the family. “We are sorry for your loss.”

    To his surprise, Soriel also stood and bowed her head. Because she did, Dio did as well. Chairs scraped as the ministers echoed, “We are sorry for your loss.”

    When the room settled, Raithion continued, noting Lois weeping into her handkerchief as Fidias wrapped an arm around her shoulders. So, he continued, giving her time to calm down.

    “Eden Kata died of belladonna poisoning delivered in a peach blossom pastry and a cup of tea,” Raithion said.

    “Who fed her this poison?” Dio asked, leaning forward.

    “The Head of the Palace Maid Office, Chalia,” Raithion said, silencing the room. “I will provide the evidence that has led to this conclusion now.”

    “Five days ago, Eden left Minister Gesi Ajai’s home, where she was training under Lady Ajai on how to run a household,” Raithion said, ignoring Gesi’s pointed look at the mention of his house.

    Raithion moved to lift a book from the table where the finance officer sat. It had come with items collected by Lieutenant Volker from Eden’s quarters in her mother’s home. He held the book up for the court to see.

    “This book contains Eden’s careful notes on how to make various soaps and sauces. It is signed by Lady Ajai to mark Eden’s completion of her training. I submit this to the court as evidence.”

    Dio nodded to his scribes in the hall to take on the task. Raithion gave the book to one of them, who moved it to Dio’s large desk.

    “Eden returned home, met her sister and mother, and stayed with them. Palace Guard Fidias Pallas visited and gave her a hairpin with peonies to propose marriage and a move to Naga State. She accepted.”

    Soriel gasped next to Dio and shook her head at Eden’s misfortune.

    Raithion turned to Fidias.

    “Mr. Pallas, I would ask you to pick out the pin you gifted to Eden from the jewelry box on the table.”

    Fidias nodded and walked to the jewelry box on Raithion’s table. He pulled out the hairpin with peony flowers and held it up for the court to see. It was not expensive, but it was elaborate. The crafter of the pin had made the pink peony in full bloom mounted on a bronze metal hairpin.

    “Can you tell the court any other features that might be on this pin?” Raithion asked.

    “I asked the jeweler who made it to engrave Eden’s name on the inner side of the pin,” Fidias said.

    “Thank you. I submit this hairpin, as well as the jewelry box it was found in, to the court as evidence,” Raithion said.

    Dio nodded in agreement, and a scribe carried the jewelry box to his table.

    “What else did you plan with Eden, Mr. Pallas?” Raithion asked.

    Fidias swallowed hard and said, “Since we both work for the palace, she said she would ask for a withdrawal first. She would then arrange for the family to move as I worked on my withdrawal from the palace guard office. She promised to ask for a certificate of leave from the head of the palace maids the next morning.”

    Raithion nodded.

    “The next morning Eden wore her engagement pin and entered the palace. According to her fiancé and family, she intended to apply for a certificate of withdrawal from the Head of the Palace Maids. So, she made her way into the inner palace. The palace guards at each entrance have her signing in.” Raithion walked to his table and got the ledger records the scribes had found for him. “I submit the two signatures Eden left at the outer palace entrance and the inner palace entrance on these ledgers into evidence.”

    Dio’s scribes took custody of the ledgers and placed them on his desk.

    “At this point we establish that Eden entered the inner palace to meet the Head of the Palace Maids,” Raithion said. “Mr. Pallas, did you see Eden after she entered the palace?”

    “No, Your Highness,” Fidias said, voice shaking slightly. “I was assigned to a shift at the Maenaer Manor to guard Princess Soriel before her move into the palace. I left a message for Eden at the outer gate so she wouldn’t wait for me.”

    Raithion moved to his desk and lifted the envelope Volker had retrieved. “Is this the letter?”

    “Yes, Your Highness,” Fidias said with a nod.

    “Is it open?” Raithion asked, handing the envelope to Fidias.

    “No, Your Highness,” Fidias said.

    “Thank you.” Raithion took the unopened envelope and held it up. “This is evidence that Eden did not leave the inner palace. There is no record of her signing out, and since all palace staff leave through one gate, the gate where Fidias Pallas left a letter for his fiancée, a letter that is still intact, it is safe to say that Eden Kata did not leave the palace. I submit this envelope as evidence to the court.”

    Raithion handed the envelope to Dio’s scribe. Then he urged Fidias and his family to sit on chairs arranged behind his desk by Haedor.

    “At this point, I’d like to bring Lady Chalia Leas to court,” Raithion said.

    “Permission granted,” Dio said.

    Haedor left the hall and returned minutes later with Lieutenant Volker. They led Lady Chalia into the hall. She was still in her palace uniform, and they had not made an attempt to arrest her, so her hands were free. The expression on her face was filled with pride, as though Raithion had only called her for a simple inquiry.

    The doors stayed open, and Raithion smiled when he saw his best friend, Kailu, lead three palace maids in blue uniform, the baker, the coroner, and the healer into the room. Kailu was dressed in a neat long burgundy coat, a white shirt, and dark trousers that disappeared into shiny black boots. His brown hair was in a tight ponytail, and he had a handsome, dandy face. The sword hanging on his left hip was decorative, as he had come from the inner palace, but Raithion knew Kailu was as skilled as he was with a sword.

    “Basileus Dio,” Kailu said at the dais, hand to chest.

    “Kailu,” Dio said with a small smile. “At ease.”

    “Thank you,” Kailu said, then grinned at Raithion. “Your Highness.”

    Raithion winced at the title but nodded.

    “Lady Chalia,” Raithion said, nodding to the woman who now stood before Basileus Dio. “Do you know Eden Kata?”

    “Yes,” Chalia said. “She was a palace maid working under the Dowager Basilinna Olneth.”

    Murmurs rose in the court, and Raithion moved to his table, where he retrieved two ledgers.

    “Lady Chalia, I am accusing you of murdering Eden Kata,” Raithion said. “I will provide evidence. You will have the chance to prove your innocence in the Justice Ministry.”

    “Prince Draeya, I still don’t understand why you want to frame me for Eden’s death,” Chalia said.

    Raithion ignored her protest and instead asked, “Lady Chalia, are you in charge of all the palace maids in the palace?”

    “I manage the palace maids in the inner palace,” Chalia said. “The outer palace has its own office.”

    “So, Eden Kata and all her colleagues in the inner palace refer to you in all matters.”

    “Yes.”

    “Did you write in these ledgers?” Raithion asked, handing Chalia the two red ledgers he held.

    “Yes,” Chalia said after she looked through the two red books with neatly printed words. “These are all active maids, and this one has a list of all those who have left the palace.”

    “Good,” Raithion nodded to Dio’s scribe. “I submit these ledgers as evidence of Chalia’s crime.”

    Chalia frowned as the scribe took the ledgers to Dio’s table. Raithion was not surprised when Dio picked up the ledgers to read them.

    “Why are they evidence?” Dio asked as he went through the lists of young women who worked in the palace.

    “We’ll get to that in a moment. I would like to ask the inner palace baker a few questions.” Raithion nodded to Kailu, who urged the baker, still dressed in his white tunic and trousers with a white apron tied around his hips.

    “What’s your name?” Raithion asked the baker.

    “Hagas Jodan. I’m the inner palace baker.”

    “Do you work closely with Lady Chalia?”

    “Yes,” Hagas said. “She brings requests made by the ladies living in the inner palace. We plan meals and seasonal pastries.”

    “Anything else?” Raithion asked.

    Hagas frowned, then nodded. “Once in a while, Lady Chalia asks to use the kitchen for special requests from the inner palace.”

    “What kind of requests?”

    “Her specialty is fruit cakes,” Hagas said. “She’s the best at making fruit cakes in shapes. The most popular is the peach blossom pastry. So, the ladies in the inner palace often ask her for special fruit cakes. I take the hours off as she’s working to get more ingredients or complete unfinished tasks around the bakery.”

    “When was the last time this special request happened?” Raithion asked.

    Hagas counted on his fingers, then raised his right index finger. “Four days ago.”

    “Four days ago,” Raithion repeated. “Princess Soriel found Eden dead two days ago. Eden entered the palace two days prior. So, the morning Eden came to the palace, Lady Chalia used the bakery to make peach blossom pastries. What time?”

    “In the morning. I had to visit the market to get a fresh bushel of apples to make apple pie for Basileus Dio’s midday meal. Peach blossom pastries are baked in two hours; by the time I returned, she was done. She took them to the inner palace in a box, as usual,” Hagas said.

    “Thank you,” Raithion said, inviting the baker to sit with Eden’s family.

    He met the coroner’s gaze and nodded. “Now, the coroner who examined Eden, Dain Liarel, will tell us how she died.”

    Dain stepped forward, neatly dressed in a black tunic, trousers, and boots, with a brown coat fastened by three silver buttons. His hair was cut short to his shoulders and brushed. He looked quite presentable as he faced Basileus Dio.

    Dain nodded to Basileus Dio in respect before he started speaking.

    “Eden Kata died of poisoning. She ate a peach blossom cake laced with belladonna. The contents of her stomach showed that the belladonna was ingested through the cake and the tea she drank.”

    “Could she have died any other way?” Raithion asked.

    “No,” Dain said. “There were scratches on the backs of her legs and heels, indicating she was dragged after she was poisoned. Bruises around the upper chest, under the arms, and on the back show she was tied with a rope and either lifted or dangled. These injuries occurred after death. I assume they were incurred as she was placed in Princess Soriel’s closet.”

    A sob filled the room. Eden’s mother cried, and Lieutenant Volker helped her out through a side entrance.

    “Thank you, Dain,” Raithion said.

    Dain produced the coroner’s report from an inner pocket in his jacket and handed it to Dio’s scribe, then sat next to Eden’s little sister.

    Three palace maids who worked closely with Chalia were brought forward. Kailu positioned them beside Chalia and met Raithion’s gaze, nodding.

    Raithion crossed the room and lifted one of the wooden boxes filled with Treasury gold denari and placed it on Dio’s table. He opened the box and gasps rippled through the court. Raithion aligned the three boxes next to each other, placing the precious gold denaris on display.

    “Whoa, so many,” Soriel said, her eyes wide.

    Raithion met Soriel’s gaze and winked and she sat up with anticipation. Dio did the same, and it suddenly felt like he was staring at two eager puppies. Raithion shook his head and turned to the officer he had given his seat. He beckoned the man to Dio’s table.

    “I need you to verify these gold denaris,” Raithion said.

    The finance officer nodded and checked on the coins at the top in each wooden box. He then turned to Dio.

    “These are all authentic gold denaris issued by the palace treasury,” the officer said. “It is rare to see so many in boxes like this.”

    “Thank you,” Raithion invited the man to sit, and the officer hurried back to his seat at the table.

    “Lady Chalia, as you’ve heard, these gold denaris are very precious,” Raithion said. “The Commandery legion officers found these boxes hidden in a hole beneath a tile in your chambers. How did you accumulate so many?”

    “They came from maids who wanted to thank me for taking care of them in the palace,” Chalia said. “They were kind as they left and shared their severance.”

    “Really.” Raithion moved back to Dio’s table and overturned the jewelry box with Eden’s pin beside the gold. “Do these all belong to you?”

    “Y-yes,” Chalia said.

    “Including this one?” He held up Eden’s hairpin.

    “No,” Chalia said, shaking her head. “Eden gave it to me because she was leaving. It was a gift of friendship.”

    Murmurs started again in the hall, and Raithion let them simmer for a moment, before he lifted the pin again.

    “Do you know what this pin meant to Eden?” Raithion asked.

    Chalia stared at him with wide eyes.

    “This hairpin was a betrothal gift from Palace Guard Pallas. Mr. Pallas even had the artisan engrave her name on the pin. Do you believe she would give away something so precious? I don’t think she gave it to you. You must have taken it from her.”

    “No!” Chalia screamed, startling the room. “Eden gave it to me!”

    Finally, a crack in the mask, Raithion chuckled and nodded. His gaze shifted to the three maids standing beside Chalia.

    “Lord Kailu, have someone search the chambers where these ladies live. I bet they have a stash of gold denaris disbursed by the treasury hidden. Bring anything else you find that is useful,” Raithion said.

    “Raithion,” Dio said softly. “What are you getting at?”

    “I need one more clue to close the net and everything will make sense,” Raithion said, as Kailu ran from the court.

    “Your Highness,” one of the girls began, but Raithion shook his head. “We’ll wait.”

    Gesi Ajai leaned forward. “Draeya Prince, you’ve painted an interesting picture this evening. Are you suggesting Lady Chalia murdered Eden Kata for a specific reason other than greed?”

    “Whatever the reason,” Raithion said, pacing around Chalia and her three accomplices, “my goal is to ensure this never happens again. Do you know what is most frightening when you rely on others for your meals?”

    “An assassin?” Gesi asked.

    “No, a trusted friend’s betrayal,” Raithion said, thinking of Azula holding a dagger in the middle of a street, asking him if his people could trust him. Suddenly, Azula’s passionate voice filled his head.

    Twelve families are mourning the loss of a breadwinner in their homes. The pain of this loss hurts us all. So, when you walk onto our ship and promise to protect, we’ll take your word seriously. That’s who we are. The Sura takes the promise of protection with solemn belief. If you won’t be able to meet us on the same level, then it will be better if you walk away.

    At the same time, the memory of Azula dressed in white robes, his hair an odd dirty black color, clutching his father’s ashes in his arms, tears tracking down his face pushed through, chasing the happier memories away.

    “Get lost!” Azula shouted at him as he stood at the entrance into his father’s house. “You broke your promises. I thought you were going to protect us, but instead…instead—

    The sight of Azula’s tears sliding down his handsome face had torn him up inside, still did even now. “Those blades I gave you, consider them blades of doom. Draeya General, you wield nothing but blades of ashes. I never want to see you again. Get lost!”

    Raithion swallowed the bitterness that filled his mouth at the memory of Azula’s pain. All that pain was caused by the man now daring to ask him questions. He turned away from Gesi Ajai and faced the ministers of the court.

    “It is very painful when you trust someone with your family, their lives, their well-being, and then they stab you in the back and bring disaster,” Raithion said, barely able to hide his anger. “There’s no cure for such a wound.”

    Gesi stared at Raithion for a full minute, then turned to look at Olneth.

    “Draeya Prince are you saying there are friends who would betray Basileus Dio in the palace?” the prime minister asked.

    “Oh, did I say that?” Raithion asked lightly. “I’m pointing out how the ‘friendship’ between Eden and Chalia brought us here.”

    When Kailu returned, it was thirty minutes later, and he looked shaken to the core. The scribes following him carried three bags filled with gold denaris.

    “The gold was found in holes under their beds, similar to Lady Chalia’s hiding spot,” Kailu said, glaring at the young girls standing next to Chalia. “There is more. We searched the compound where their house is and found an enclosed yard hidden in tall trees. It looked overgrown, but when we followed a small path, we found a sealed well. There are bones in the well. I invite the coroner to visit there.”

    Dain got up and excused himself, leaving with one of the legion officers.

    Kailu handed one of the gold bags to Raithion. Raithion moved to upend the contents on Dio’s table. Next to the gold, belladonna flowers fell out.

    “Stop.” The healer hurried up the steps to stop Raithion from touching them. “Those are poisonous. They are belladonna flowers, mixed with dried berries. It’s very poisonous, Draeya Prince. Don’t touch.”

    The healer took a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully returned the belladonna to the bags with the gold, securing the cloth bags so that no one else would make a mistake.

    “The poison is found,” Raithion said, glancing at the girls next to Chalia. He suspected they were suspicious of each other. One of them had placed the poison in the gold to keep others from stealing.

    “You are indeed responsible for Eden’s death,” Raithion said, looking at the girls and Chalia.

    The three maids fell to their knees, shaking their heads. Chalia remained standing, her fingers bunched her skirts tight.

    “Which of you will gain leniency for the crime?” Raithion asked, standing in front of the girls. He watched them for a moment, then crouched before the one who trembled most.

    “Why did you kill Eden Kata?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

    “Because she was l-leaving the palace,” the girl said. “Lady Chalia said no one would miss her. She was getting so much money from her certificate of leave. Chalia promised to share her payout. We were just waiting for when the investigation ended.”

    “Have you done this before?” Raithion asked, then narrowed his gaze at her. “Don’t lie. We’re already at this point. If you want to help yourself, you need to tell the truth. What is your name?”

    “Viessa Beidi. I entered the palace two years ago. I only started working for Lady Chalia six moons ago. She assigned me to her team when Kena, the girl who was to leave six months ago, applied for her leave. It wasn’t until later that I understood what happens to any of the maids who ask for leave. Especially those without family waiting for them.”

    “What happens to the girls without family?” Raithion asked.

    “They die,” Viessa said with a sob. “I heard it started when one of the girls died of an illness. Lady Chalia was given her severance money to disburse to her next of kin, but when she found out the girl had no family, she discovered she could keep the gold denaris with her. From then on, any one of us who dies without a clear next of kin, she took the severance pay. For the ones who want to leave, but have no visible ties, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She grows belladonna in a patch hidden in the thick forest in the closed off part of the compound where we stay. She bakes it into the peach blossom pastries. Our job is to make sure the girls disappear and are not found. It’s just that, it’s just that, Eden… Lady Chalia said that she had to die. She knew too much.”

    “Liar,” Chalia said, turning to slap Viessa before Kailu could stop her. “You’re making things up.”

    “I’m not making it up,” Viessa said, hysterical as she held on to her right cheek. “You said it was best to get rid of Princess Soriel by putting Eden’s body in her chambers. That way we would still have control of the inner palace. You said…”

    Raithion straightened up and met Chalia’s gaze. “Did you do this for the gold or under someone’s order?” Raithion asked Chalia.

    She stared at him, then scoffed, shaking her head. “You know I can’t say who asked me to put Eden in the Princess’s closet.”

    “I don’t need you to,” Raithion said with a small smile, holding her gaze until she gasped and fell to her knees.

    Raithion turned to Dio and Soriel.

    “You asked me why the list of palace maids is evidence,” Raithion said. “If you look at the last entry on the list of leaving maids, what does it say?”

    Dio opened the ledger, and Raithion hid a smile as Soriel looked at it with him. She pointed to where Chalia had signed her name.

    “It says ‘Eden Kata’ granted certificate of withdrawal,” Dio said. “The date is the day after Soriel discovered Eden in her closet. Chalia signed her name at the end. But… there is a red dot after the signature.”

    Raithion nodded and glanced at Chalia. “Can you count how many red dots are on that ledger?”

    Dio remained silent as he read the ledger, then Soriel started counting next to him. Her eyes widened when they reached close to fifty red dots.

    “So many,” Soriel said with a shocked whisper, her horrified gaze shifting to Olneth. “But… how could it go unnoticed?”

    Raithion nodded and looked at Chalia.

    “Someone kept you in place to clean up,” Raithion said, meeting Chalia’s wary gaze. “You worried that with Princess Soriel’s entry into the palace, your usefulness would end. You would no longer be able to collect your bounty as usual.”

    “I wasn’t wrong,” Chalia said, sounding tired as she let out a soft scoff. “Look, with this one discovery, you’ll clean out the palace service in one go. I doubt any of the old staff will survive the coming purge. I will say that you’ve really played a good one, Draeya Prince. Wiping us out in one big wave, you’ve really opened the stage for your sister.”

    “So, it seems,” Raithion said, hoping this would be enough of a painful lesson for the Dowager Basilinna. He turned to face Princess Sanan. “Princess Sanan, have I answered your question?”

    “Yes, Draeya Prince,” Sanan said, with a wide smile. “You’ve lit a bright, wide path for us to clean out the inner palace. I am very grateful to you.”

    “The case is laid out, and the culprit is accused,” Raithion said. “Basileus Dio, I seek justice for the Kata family and Eden’s fiancé.”

    “Certainly,” Dio said. “Chalia is under arrest for the murder of Eden Kata, along with Viessa and the two ladies next to her. Chalia and the three implicated maids are remanded to the Justice Ministry for arraignment at first light on charges including murder, conspiracy, and theft of palace treasury settlements. As of this moment, all the palace maids working in the palace are under the direct care of Princess Soriel. The new Basilinna will take charge, and all will answer to her without question.”

    Raithion brought his hand to his chest.

    “Draeya Prince,” Dio said. “The commandery office shall make sure that all the palace maids who have suffered under Chalia and her accomplices receive their honors and commendations, including Eden Kata and her family. I trust that you will make sure all the orders of redress to these families are carried out. Make sure the families affected receive the deceased’s effects, see to the rites, and restore dignity to the victims. My office will fund all Eden Kata’s funeral rites.”

    “I will make sure it is done, Your Majesty,” Raithion said.

    Dio took in a deep breath and stood up, facing the room. “Let every court official know, the crown shall remember, and repair injustice rendered. No servant of this court is disposable, and no crime within and outside these imperial halls is beyond the reach of light. Let it be known. Court is adjourned.”

    ****

    Two days later, Raithion stood with Soriel at the palace gates as they watched an elegant hearse drive out, heading to Eden’s home. Cherry and Fidias stopped before Raithion.

    “Thank you, Your Highness,” Fidias said to Raithion with a solemn nod. He was dressed all in white, just like Cherry, whose eyes were swollen from crying too much. “We would never have known what happened to her without your help.”

    “Here,” Raithion said, handing Fidias a small wooden box with Eden’s hairpin. “This should be returned to you.”

    “Thank you,” Fidias said.

    “These too.” Soriel handed Cherry a box filled with Eden’s severance pay from the treasury office. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m sure your sister would want you to live a good life. Take care of your mother, and if you ever need anything, you’ll find a small token inside that will help you come find me.”

    Cherry swallowed her tears back and nodded, unable to speak. The hearse was a distance away, so Raithion waved the carriage they had given to the family for their journey closer.

    “Alright, go so that you don’t delay the funeral,” Raithion said when the carriage stopped a few feet away.

    Lois was already inside the carriage, so Fidias helped Cherry into the carriage before he followed her in. Raithion closed the door for them and stepped back to stand next to Soriel. They watched the carriage leave in silence, then, when it was a distance away, Soriel gripped Raithion’s right arm.

    “How do you think Dio has managed to live in such a dangerous place for so long?” Soriel asked quietly, turning to look at the large white-stone palace, with its extensive gardens, arched entrances, and opulent furniture. “This is a nest filled with vipers.”

    “Are you afraid?” Raithion asked, patting her hand.

    “No,” Soriel said with a smirk. “You’ve always called me Little Bird. Days ago, I discovered that Dio’s Adertha Family uses a griffin as a crest. A legendary creature with the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle. So, if he is the lion, I will be the eagle. Eagles attack vipers. Raith, do you think I can peck the eyes out of the vipers in this palace?”

    “I think you can,” Raithion said with a small chuckle.

    “Then, support me as I do it,” Soriel said. “I have started cleaning out the palace maids. The ladies Mom assigned to me have taken control of the important parts: the kitchen, the warehouses with food, and housekeeping. At least we don’t have to worry about poison.”

    “Next is the administration office,” Raithion said. “The dowager will want to control the information you receive. Come on, I’ll show you something.”

    Raithion took her to the commandery office compound. At the back, where there were training grounds, Raithion stopped by a group of ten women in dark uniform. They turned and saluted when they saw him.

    “Meira, Vanya,” Raithion said, and two of the women stepped forward. “Greet your new master.”

    Soriel grinned as the two soldiers moved before her and lowered their heads.

    “Meira and Vanya run this unit,” Raithion said, handing Soriel a small whistle shaped like a bird. “The team will stay hidden and help you carry out any sensitive tasks. Don’t scare Dio with them. He is still the Basileus and may be wary of a Basilinna with a small army.”

    “I know what to do,” Soriel said, taking the whistle.

    “Meira will stay in the open, while Vanya in the shadows,” Raithion said. “They know how to reach me if you need me in an emergency.”

    “Okay,” Soriel grinned and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best brother a girl could ask for.”

    Raithion hugged her for a moment, then let go and dismissed the team. Meira remained by Soriel’s side. She would be Soriel’s bodyguard from now on. He was about to head to the office when Haedor came running.

    “Lord Raith,” Haedor said, looking panicked. “Lady Maenaer says that if you don’t show up at the manor in the next hour, she will submit a protest to Basileus Dio.”

    Raithion frowned. “What will she be protesting about?”

    “Your wedding, Lord Raith. You forgot that you’re getting married to Lady Naeri. You’re supposed to get the bride,” Haedor said, reaching for Raithion’s left arm. “Excuse me, Princess Soriel, I have to get him back home.”

    “I’m not going,” Raithion said, refusing to move even when Haedor pulled on his arm. “She can deliver herself to the manor. Why do I have to act like I’m eager for her to enter my house?”

    “Your mother was sure that was what you would say,” Haedor said, scowling at him. “So, I’ll repeat what she said verbatim: ‘Raith, a groom should at least show up for the ceremony in their own house. If you embarrass me in front of our guests, I will make you kneel in the ancestral hall for ten days. See if I’m scared of a Basileus for keeping you away from your duties.’”

    Soriel laughed, and Raithion scowled at her.

    “Don’t scowl. It’s a happy day.” Soriel held his right hand and started leading him back to the palace exit. “Let’s go. I’ll take you home, big brother. My sister-in-law is coming to our Maenaer house. If you won’t collect her, we should at least meet her at the family hall for the ceremony.”

    Raithion grumbled and allowed his sister to lead him out of the palace. Haedor looked too relieved for his comfort. In a daze, Raithion soon found himself back at the manor. After an afternoon filled with unbearable preparation activities, the next morning dawned, and his wedding day arrived.

    His residence at the manor was separate from the main house, set directly behind it. It had already been arranged by his butler, Daron, and the two housekeepers, Aryn and her sister, Sira, with Sharia, Daron’s son, acting as a butler’s assistant. His mother pushed them into getting Raithion ready for his wedding. Since he had refused to collect the bride from Gesi Ajai’s home, he was to wait in the main hall and greet guests as they arrived.

    In a blink, Raithion stood in the main hall of the manor wearing a knee-length, fitted formal coat in the finest black brocade, featuring gold metallic embroidery at the shoulders and cuffs that caught the light with every shift. A stand collar framed his jaw, and ornamental front closures finished the coat. It was worn with tailored white trousers and matching boots with gold embroidery. His hair was brushed and left to fall down his back. Kailu and Haedor stood on each side of Raithion. They were witnesses to the marriage, but Raithion looked at them as wardens. His mother was afraid he would bolt from the hall, and she had placed his strongest legion officers next to him to keep him in check.

    Shaking his head, he tried not to sigh, but when the bride appeared at the entrance of the main hall, he took a step back, only to be stopped by Kailu and Haedor, who each placed a hand on his shoulders.

    Naeri’s family had gone all out. She was dressed in an embroidered two-piece red gown with a matching sheer veil; the full skirt and bodice worked in gold thread. Her wrists were decorated with gold bangles, and she walked slowly under the weight of her dress.

    Naeri made a beautiful bride, and when she smiled it was difficult to look away, but Raithion only felt a chain wrapping tightly around his heart when she looked at him. With each vow he made before the audience, the chain wound tighter.

    By the time Dio stood in the large hall to toast his wedding, Raithion was ready to drown his future in the taste of the most potent wine he could find. His thoughts were firmly focused on a Sura clan prince named Azula, whom he had never even gotten to kiss.

    ***

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 7-2

    Raithion entered the palace but did not go to find Soriel first. He went to the commandery offices and found Haedor having a meeting with the team of legion inspectors responsible for investigating the case in the palace.
    “Your Highness,” Haedor said in greeting. The legion inspectors all saluted Raithion when he entered the large office.
    “At ease,” Raithion said and moved to take the chair behind the desk. “Give me an update.”
    “Two days ago, Princess Soriel found a dead palace maid in her closet,” Haedor said. “She was fast in her thinking. She sealed her room and called Lord Maenaer. It allowed us to take over the scene and the body.”
    “What have you found?” Raithion asked, his fists clenched into fists at the thought of the shock Soriel had faced.
    “The palace maid died of poisoning,” Haedor said. “Lieutenant Volker followed up with the coroner at the palace morgue. The poison used was belladonna.”
    “Belladonna is a forbidden herb within the palace walls,” Raithion said.
    “Yes,” Haedor agreed. “Someone must have smuggled it in.”
    Raithion shook his head and sat back, staring at his legion officers.
    “Where was the palace maid assigned to work?” Raithion asked.
    “She is not on any roster,” Volker said. “We have combed through the month’s list ledgers and cannot find her usual post.”
    “Every attendant in the palace has a task to complete. Otherwise, they are not meant to be in the palace,” Raithion said, holding Volker’s gaze. “It is not that she is not on the list ledger. It is that the list she is on is missing. Find the missing ledger.”
    “Yes, Your Highness,” Volker said, tapping his partner on the shoulder. They left the office to complete the task.
    “What else?” Raithion asked.
    “The girl’s family has scattered,” Haedor said. “I have two legion officers on the task, but we may need more.”
    “The poison could have originated from their residence,” Raithion said. “Add in four more.”
    Haedor pointed to four legion officers who got up and left after a swift salute.
    “Where is Kailu?” Raithion asked.
    “He is working on the inside of the palace,” Haedor said. “I had him join Princess Soriel’s guard. Your father gave him a token from Basileus Dio that allows him to move around the palace without restriction. He will reach out if he discovers something new.”
    Raithion nodded, satisfied that most of the work was half done.
    “I want to see this girl,” Raithion said, standing up. “Then I’ll visit Soriel.”
    “I’ll take you to the morgue,” Haedor said, leaving the commandery office. “Did you succeed?”
    “Yes,” Raithion said as they walked along the vast corridors of the palace, headed to the back buildings where the morgue was located. “It wasn’t easy, but he is safe.”
    “For now,” Haedor said.
    “Yes,” Raithion nodded. “I’ve set safeguards to help protect him in case of trouble.”
    “What happened to him was a tragedy,” Haedor said.
    “No, it was a betrayal orchestrated by my father,” Raithion said, self-loathing filling his heart. “I was unable to do anything for him. I owe him for a broken promise.”
    Haedor sighed and did not comment.
    They stepped outside and found themselves in the back gardens of the palace. The palace morgue was built in the farthest corner of the vast imperial property. They needed horses to get there. Haedor’s assistant met them with a pair of horses. The ride to the morgue was fast.
    The head coroner received them with a solemn face. He saluted Raithion, acknowledging his new status in the palace.
    “Report your findings to His Highness,” Haedor said when they stood before the dead girl’s corpse. She was wrapped in a white shroud and lying on a slab of ice. Her body was clean and ready for burial as soon as Raithion ended the investigation.
    “We have meticulously documented everything we found on her. I’ll state the obvious first,” the head coroner said. “She died of poisoning. The contents of her stomach include a peach blossom cake. Our poison tests show that this peach blossom cake is the source of the poison.”
    “How long have you worked in the palace?” Raithion asked the coroner. He looked older, already in his fifties.
    “Fifteen years,” the head coroner answered.
    “Do you recognize her?” Raithion asked.
    “No,” the head coroner said. “But that is not unusual. My place of work is not auspicious. I run into palace maids who work in the outer wings of the palace or in the kitchen where we get our meals.”
    “So, would you say she is someone who works in the inner palace?” Haedor asked.
    “Yes,” the head coroner said, touching her folded uniform. “The fabric of this uniform is the answer. Expensive silk and embroidery accents are found on palace maids working in the inner palace.”
    “She is not on any roster,” Haedor said.
    “Then, she works for someone with enough authority to make her existence disappear,” Raithion guessed.
    “Don’t burden me with such information, I like my head on my shoulders,” the coroner said. “Let me finish my report.”
    Raithion hid a smile at the head coroner’s will to survive. He spent most of his morning hours listening to updates from the head coroner, who documented all the palace maid’s injuries before and after death.

    ***

    Raithion visited Soriel in the afternoon. He needed to change and dress in a formal uniform to enter the inner palace and meet with the soon-to-be Basilinna. The process allowed him to clear his thoughts. The case facing them was simple yet complex.
    On the surface, a girl was poisoned with belladonna, and her body was hidden in Soriel’s chambers. The palace guard commandery should solve the crime and bring the culprit to face justice.
    Hidden, in this case, was the girl’s true identity. Her clothes belonged to the inner palace, which meant she was under the control of the Dowager Basilinna Olneth, Dio’s mother. He doubted Dio’s grandmother and aunt would want to harm Dio’s bride. Still, perhaps someone in their households worked for Olneth.
    Why Olneth? Raithion frowned.
    His father had evidence that the Dowager Basilinna wanted the power to control the throne. Which meant taking control of the newest Basilinna. She had tried to get Gesi Ajai’s daughter in place, but since that failed, she wanted a way to control Soriel by placing Soriel in the middle of a murder case.
    Raithion smirked. Let’s see you try to control a Maenaer.
    An attendant led Raithion to Rose Hall, Soriel’s residence when he was ready. He was not surprised to find Dio waiting with Soriel when he arrived.
    Soriel looked beautiful in a long gold dress, the skirts shimmering in the sunlight. Her hair was brushed to perfection and restrained by golden leaves in the form of a crown. She looked lovely in her royal clothes. She sat in an armchair, her hands resting on her lap.
    Raithion noted how hard she had to work at not running to hug him. She visibly clenched her hands on her lap and smiled at him.
    “Your Highness,” She said with a demure tone, her gaze shifting to Dio before she smiled at Raithion. “You have returned.”
    “Yes, and I received your message,” Raithion said. “Are you alright?”
    “Of course she’s alright,” Dio said, getting up from the couch to stand next to Soriel. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
    Raithion held his sister’s gaze, ignoring Dio’s comment.
    Soriel’s brown eyes were filled with mischief. Her lips twitched, fighting a smile as she held his gaze and he sighed in relief. At least they had not broken his sister’s spirit. It would be a tragedy if Soriel turned into an uppity highborn lady.
    “How long are you going to keep pretending?” Raithion asked.
    Soriel scowled at him, then to Dio’s surprise, she bolted out of the chair and raced to hug Raithion. Jumping on him with her usual energy, she kissed his left cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck.
    Raithion held her tight, hugging her back.
    “What took you so long? Lord Haedor would not tell me where you were,” Soriel complained. “Everyone in this place wants me to start calling you Your Highness. Even Pa keeps repeating the same things. It’s been so difficult. Are you really a Commandery Prince?”
    “I will always be Raith to you, Little Bird,” Raithion said.
    “Oh thank the fates,” Soriel said with relief. She held on for a moment longer, then let go and he set her on her feet. “Where did you go?”
    “To fulfill a promise,” Raithion said, adjusting Soriel’s crown on her head. It was askew. “I like your crown, Basilinna Soriel.”
    Soriel turned to glance at Dio who had taken her seat. She shrugged and looked at Raithion.
    “He’s a good man,” Soriel said, her voice low. “I like him and want him to be my husband. Will you accept him the way you took in Nori’s Hujan?”
    “I think he has to take us in,” Raithion said, pressing his index finger into her right cheek. “He’s the Basileus.”
    “What a powerless position,” Soriel said, shaking her head. “He’s in trouble in this place. Someone dared to plot against us with a dead girl. It’s disgusting. He helped me escape the worst.”
    “Did he?” Raithion’s brow rose in surprise and glanced at Dio, who watched them with avid interest.
    “Yes,” Soriel said, taking his right hand. She squeezed it and smiled up at him. “He sent his aunt to neutralize the Dowager Basilinna’s lecture. She saved me from an investigation.”
    Soriel tugged at his hand, her expression full of expectation and pleading. She was talking for her new husband and it irked him.
    Raithion fought a scowl and tightened his hold on Soriel’s hand. He led her to the couch and made her sit next to him.
    “Raith,” Soriel started.
    “I’ve heard it,” Raithion said, squeezing her hand. “Now, it’s my turn. There’s more to agree on before I commit.”
    Soriel nodded and remained obediently next to him.
    Satisfied with Soriel’s response, Raithion met Dio’s gaze and felt a wide chasm of anger and frustration open up inside him.
    “I’m angry with you, Basileus Dio. I can’t explain what your machinations with my father cost me,” Raithion said. “You’ve made me break a promise to someone important, and now I have no way to restore the break.”
    Soriel squeezed his left arm, but he ignored her.
    Raithion met Dio’s gaze. “I always keep my word, and you made me break it.”
    “Is this about the Sura?” Dio asked, his tone solemn to match.
    Raithion clenched his jaw, his hands in fists on his knees.
    “They did not deserve such a betrayal,” Raithion gritted out.
    “I agree,” Dio said. “I feel the same guilt you do, Raithion. But I have no power to protect them.”
    “You’re the Basileus.”
    “One with fractured wings,” Dio said. “I wish I could spread them and envelope everyone in my kingdom with protection, but I can’t. I have constraints placed upon me by court ministers with more power than I. I would save the Sura if I could. It pains me to have no power to change this truth.”
    “If you cannot protect others, how do you plan to protect Soriel?” Raithion asked.
    Dio fell silent and it was his turn to clench his fists on his lap.
    “No harm will come to her on my watch,” Dio said.
    “You can’t make that promise,” Raithion shook his head. “A dead body in her chambers is already enough of a threat. It could have been her.”
    Soriel gasped beside him, and Raithion sighed as he realized she had not thought of it.
    Dio’s gaze remained on Soriel for another minute, then he stared at the floor, his jaw clenched.
    Soriel squeezed Raithion’s left arm, she moved, getting up and walking over to Dio’s side. Raithion frowned when she turned and faced him, turning them into a unit. His little sister had grown up and dared to love a powerless Basileus.
    Raithion sighed.
    “Raithion,” Dio said. “I will do my best to protect Soriel. I will do everything to ensure nothing happens to her in my palace, including moving into Rose Hall. I’m begging for your support.”
    Raithion frowned at the plea.
    “No need to beg, little bird is by your side,” Raithion said, meeting Soriel’s hopeful gaze. “I have no choice but to give you support to make sure she survives. But, before I agree to help, I need a promise.”
    “Raith,” Soriel started to protest.
    “No,” Dio said, taking Soriel’s hand. “I will give the promise.”
    “You don’t know what kind of promise,” Soriel said.
    “It will be reasonable,” Dio said, smiling at Raithion. “Go ahead.”
    “The Sura Clan,” Raithion said. “I want to protect them. I also want the chance to clear their reputation when the time comes.”
    “Why?” Dio asked.
    “That is my business,” Raitihon said. “But if you must know, count it as helping me fulfill the promise you made me break.”
    Dio held Raithion’s gaze for a moment longer, then nodded.
    “You’ll have full rights over the forged silver coin case when it is time. The Sura Clan is your burden.”
    “Good,” Raithion said, standing up, eager to leave. “I’ll take control of their manor in the capital and hold it under the Commandery Prince’s authority.”
    Dio nodded without protest.
    “What about the belladonna poisoned palace maid? ” Dio asked.
    “You received the reports from the morgue,” Raithion said, standing in the middle of the room. His gaze was on Soriel. “How many enemies can you have in this palace, Basileus Dio? The one you had to defend my sister from is the culprit.”
    Dio scoffed.
    “Of course, you would know the truth with one glance. I have to say the Maenaer family is not easy to manage. What do you plan to do? My aunt placed the work of bringing this case to court on your shoulders.”
    “Well, since we all know the culprit, we’ll have to play the entertaining drama she has planned. Don’t worry. I will make sure no one ever thinks of framing my sister with poison again.”
    “Somehow, hearing you say that relieves me,” Dio said with a grin.
    “I have to go,” Raithion said, turning to leave.
    “Raith,” Soriel said, drawing his attention.
    Raithion paused, turning to look at her. She still stood next to Dio.
    They made an interesting picture.
    Soriel with her sweet beauty, jet black hair long to her waist, and a royal gold dress that shimmered in the afternoon light. Dio dressed in a long white royal coat with gold embroidery sat in an armchair facing Raithion. They looked perfect together, but their union was weak. Dio needed more strength to protect his new wife.
    “Visit us often,” Soriel said. “I missed you these last few days.”
    “I’ll try,” Raithion said, winked at her then left.
    He was in a rush to seal the home Marius Doriel used to call home. He wanted Azula to find it intact when he returned. If he ever returned.

    ***

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  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 7-1

    Arc 2: The Case of the Belladonna Poisoned Palace Maid

    Ch. 7-1

    Raithion watched the Sura ship disappear on the horizon, and a soft sigh escaped. He wished for the millionth time that he and Azula had a better ending. There was a harrowing rawness to their separation that left him filled with anger. He wanted to return to the capital city and defy his father and the Basileus. He would clear the Sura Clan and hope to see Azula’s cheerful smile again.

    But, he could not do that, not with his youngest sister marrying Basileus Dio.

    Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

    “Your Highness.”

    The title grated at his last nerve. It was new and filled with the consequences of betraying Azula. He hated it.

    “Report,” Raithion growled at his lieutenant.

    “Your orders have been carried out,” the lieutenant said. “The magistrate’s compound is under control, and the policing force has arrived from the Draeya Estate. Everyone knows how to assist the Sura Clan members. They will use the port city’s ships to make drop-offs.”

    “Good work,” Raithion said, giving the horizon one last glance before he turned away and walked to a waiting black horse.

    “Where to, Your Highness?”

    Raithion fought a grimace at the title as he mounted his horse.

    “Draeya Estate first,” Raithion said. “Then we shall head to the capital city, Genad, to take up the commandery.”

    “I’ll relay your orders,” the lieutenant said as he hurried away to mobilize the troop following Raithion.

    *****

    Soriel Maenaer watched one of the palace attendants arrange her clothes on a rack mounted in what they called her dressing room. The room was large enough to fit the chambers she used at the Maenaer Estate in Draeya County.

    The Basileus’s palace left her breathless with the sheer size of everything. Basileus Dio’s ancestors had spared no expense as they built up the palace to mark their reign and the magnitude of their power.

    She still could not believe she would marry into the Adertha family and become a Basilinna. Not because she feared managing the palace. No. Her disbelief was tied to her soon-to-be-husband. She could not believe he had looked at her and wanted to make her his wife.

    With a soft sigh, Soriel arranged the skirts of her deep blue dress around her and focused on the three palace attendants working in her so-called dressing room. The three women unpacking her chests were from her family’s manor.

    Her father had insisted she bring her own people into the palace. After all, the palace had a more powerful mistress hidden in the deepest halls. She needed all the help to withstand a battle with her husband’s mother, the Dowager Basilinna.

    Soriel shuddered at the thought of the dowager and frowned when one of the ladies let out a startled scream. She was cleaning out a closet in the corner of the dressing room and had jumped back with fright. Soriel’s frown deepened when the lady pressed a hand over her mouth and pointed at the open closet.

    Thinking it was a pest terrorizing her people in this old place, Soriel got up to see what would make her attendants so weak-willed. She stopped short when she moved closer and could see into the open closet. She could not help the gasp that escaped her.

    Folded into the bottom of the closet was a young woman dressed in the familiar pale-yellow dresses worn by the palace attendants working beyond her suite. She was not alive. Her skin was too pale and lacking the healthy pink glow of vitality.

    Soriel took in a deep breath, clenched her fists, and glanced at her personal attendant.

    “Vaeri, find my father. Do not let anyone else into my rooms before he shows up,” Soriel said. “Trust no one. Do you understand?”

    “Yes, My Lady,” Vaeri said and hurried out of the dressing room to find Thanir Maenaer.

    Soriel stared at the dead girl in her closet.

    Only one person could do this to her in this vast palace.

    Great move, Dowager Basilinna, Soriel scoffed. Let’s wait for my turn.

    *****

    Raithion returned to Draeya County in a complicated mood, his affection for the Maenaer Estate both a comfort and a reminder of his responsibilities. The family manor, Maenaer, had been built up over generations—a fortress and a sanctuary embodying the Maenaer lineage and its enduring military legacy. Tall, ancient walls, fortified and vigilant, encircled the estate, a testament to the family’s unyielding strength. A dedicated troop maintained the fortifications year-round, preserving the estate’s resilience across countless generations.

    The guards at the gates greeted him with broad smiles and enthusiastic waves. Raithion returned the greetings with a wave of his right hand, riding fast along the road heading to the main house.

    The sight of expanded fields along the way brought Raithion quiet satisfaction.

    The most considerable expense for any army was food, so he was always glad for the thriving fields. Acres of land stretched out in orderly rows, bearing rice and seasonal vegetables under the care of soldiers’ families who had made the estate their home. The estate always had rice and various vegetables, depending on the season. What they could not produce, they traded with counties nearby.

    Raithion had yet to face disappointment with the management of food supplies thanks to the efficiency of the estate’s staff. They encouraged the soldiers’ families living within the estate to farm ducks for the eggs and the meat. Through trade and production, the estate maintained a steady, well-managed supply. It was an invaluable duty that every Maenaer cultivated carefully.

    As Raithion rode up to the main entrance of his family’s manor, he took in the sight that never failed to lighten his heart.

    Deep red bougainvillea cascaded over the four towering pillars at the entrance of the three-story estate, the blooms vivid against the smooth stone. Raithion’s ancestors added these touches over centuries, the graceful arches and commanding columns shaping Maenaer’s timeless elegance. Expansive terraces and balcony gardens adorned the upper floors, transforming the manor into a sanctuary of beauty and strength—a legacy worth protecting.

    Dismounting his horse, he lingered a moment, gaze fixed on the crimson flowers. For a fleeting second, he wondered what Azula would think of this home, layered with history and tradition.

    Raithion crossed the threshold with steady steps and entered the atrium, one of his favorite places in the manor.

    A high, glass-covered ceiling arched above, pouring warm afternoon sunlight over every corner and adding to the airy, open feel of the space. The glass itself, a more recent addition to the ancient home, provided an unobstructed view of the sky—a luxury within a stronghold built for defense.

    Marble floors, crafted by Storait artisans, glowed under the sunlight, each veined stone shining as a mark of refinement amid the manor’s unyielding structure. Raithion found comfort in the openness, a peace he rarely afforded himself, and the vantage this room provided.

    Through the atrium’s high, expansive windows, he could see the land dotted with sentries and trees swaying in the breeze across the estate, over its fields and fortified walls. The view was both beautiful and strategic. From this space, he could watch for signs of approaching visitors or potential threats.

    Long, white curtains hung along parts of the great hall beyond, adding privacy without diminishing the room’s airy openness. His mother had decorated parts of the atrium with her careful touch, tucking leafy plants in wide clay pots into corners and scattering plush cushions across the long couches. It was a space of rare warmth and subtle splendor that welcomed all who entered.

    His second favorite place in the estate was the residence his father helped him build in preparation for his having a family in the future. Through the years, he had filled the residence with comfort, but now…the thought of Gesi Ajai’s daughter calling it her home made him sick.

    “Lord Raith.”

    Raithion dragged his thoughts away from Gesi Ajai and turned to see the butler who managed his residence approaching him with fast steps.

    Raithion removed his dark coat and nodded at the older man, who was five years older than him.

    “Oh, I think I should change my address to Your Highness.”

    “Daron, I beg you, please keep calling me Raith. Don’t bring the capital’s complications to this place,” Raithion said, shaking his head.

    Daron chuckled and took the black coat from Raithion.

    “As you wish, Lord Raith.”

    Raithion was glad for Daron’s uncomplicated acceptance. He walked along a wide corridor from the atrium to the north of the manor. His residence was separated from the main house with an enclosed walkway. His father had thought it would be an excellent idea for him to have a separate household from the main house.

    ‘Managing your own affairs will give you character,’ Thanir had said with a pleased smile as he handed Raithion the key to the separate residence.

    Daron opened the heavy double doors with a flourish when they reached them.

    The residence was decorated with deep wood colors. The floors were polished wood tiles, and the metalwork on the furniture was intricate. The ceramics on the shelves were beautiful and exciting. They were gifts from his sisters, Noriel and Soriel. His mother had hung long curtains in the living area to divide the spaces. Raithion liked to sit by the tall windows in the living room when he could find time.

    Raithion removed his dark tunic and draped it over an armchair as he walked through the living area, down a long corridor to the bathing hall at the back of the residence.

    The sunken bath that took up a room was filled with warm water. Raithion assumed Daron had heated it up when the first scouts reached the manor.

    He stripped fast and stepped into the pool, eager to cleanse the worst of the dust. He swam to the center of the deep pool and sank deep until his hair was soaked. He stayed underwater for three minutes before he came up with a loud sigh, sweeping his fingers through his dark hair to push it out of his face. Satisfied with the momentary relief, Raithion moved to the pool’s edge and sat on the concealed bench in the water.

    Daron brought him a box filled with soap, a comb, and a loofah to scrub his skin.

    “Who is home?” Raithion asked as he settled in for a bath.

    “There is only you at home. Your parents pulled the manor’s core staff to Genad City. Noriel and her husband stopped by days ago to tell us about Soriel’s marriage to Basileus Dio and your impending nuptials. Noriel ordered to close the manor and move everyone to the capital.”

    “Hm,” Raithion sighed at the mention of his upcoming marriage. “My father claims to have found a mistress for this residence.”

    “Will she agree to move away from the capital?” Daron asked as he helped Raithion wash his back.

    “I don’t want her to take ownership of this residence,” Raithion said, shaking his head. “This place, I will close it up first before I allow Gesi Ajai’s daughter to enter it.”

    “But—”

    “This marriage is temporary,” Raithion insisted when Daron started to speak up. “I will not have her here.”

    “If not her, then who?” Daro asked, taking the comb and tackling Raithion’s long, dark hair. Raithion sat back and closed his eyes, allowing Daron to help him with the tangles in his hair. It had been a long journey in the woods to protect Azula’s clan. He had not stopped to clean up.

    His memory filled with Azula. He doubted he would ever forget the sight of Azula laughing as he placed all his chess pieces in the wrong spaces.

    Raithion smiled at the memory and again wondered what Azula would think of his personal residence. He would love to watch Azula placing all the chess pieces on his stone table by the bedroom terrace in the wrong places.

    “Maybe there will be someone,” Raithion said, his tone filled with longing. “I’ll leave it to the fates.”

    “Then, where will you live with your new bride?” Daron asked, confusion evident in his voice.

    “As my father says, I’ve come to close this place for a time. Our family will live in the capital until Soriel finds stability. It may take a few years. Pack up my clothes,” Raithion said as Daron combed his hair. “Leave old man Cassius here with ten attendants to look after the manor and ensure the bougainvillea grows. Otherwise, mother will be unhappy.”

    “Are we really going to the capital, too?” Daron asked.

    “You, Aryn, and her sister, Sira, plus your son, Sharian, are the only people I can trust to run my house once my so-called bride moves in,” Raithion said with a shudder. “My new father-in-law is a snake in disguise, seeking power while offering gifts. Daron, my new household will be like living in a warzone. We cannot leave anything to chance. Even the food we eat needs attention. It will be a hardship.”

    “I understand,” Daron said, putting away the comb when he finished working on Raithion’s hair. He patted Raithion’s left shoulder, and Raithion moved away from the bench. He swam deeper into the water and rinsed his hair in the deep waters.

    Raithion swam to the steps and exited the sunken bath, feeling refreshed.

    Daron handed him a large bath towel, which he tied around his waist.

    “I’ll sleep for four hours,” Raithion said, leaving the bathing hall and walking barefoot to his bedchamber. “Get everyone ready. We’ll travel to the capital through the night. I need to take over the Imperial Commandery tomorrow.”

    “I’ll get it done, Lord Raith. Rest easy,” Daro said and left, closing the door quietly as Raithion sat on the edge of his bed.

    Raithion started to pull back the sheets but paused when he saw the blades Azula gifted him on the side table. Sharian must have brought them in while he was bathing. He reached for the scabbard and unsheathed the blades.

    Raithion traced the carvings on the handles, his memory filling with the sight of Azula carrying his sister on board their ship. The memory of the scream Azula let out when his sister was shot with the arrow had Raithion closing his eyes for a moment. He shook his head and wished again that things were different between them.

    Suddenly, Azula’s teasing voice filled his head.

    “I heard the Draeya General was having a meal on the balcony. I heard Draeya General has a horn growing on his forehead, making him fierce. I came out to have a good look.”

    Raithion smiled and shook his head.

    “You took a good look at the ship and turned away,” Raithion murmured as he sheathed his blades and returned them to the bedside table. “You must be very angry with me. I hope your anger cools before we meet again, Azula Doriel, Sura Prince.”

    Raithion sighed and stretched out on his bed. He would indulge in the peace and quiet for a few hours before returning to the capital’s chaos.

    *****

    The Basileus’s engagement sent shockwaves through the capital. Most people who attended Noriel Maenaer’s wedding were unsurprised that the Basileus had chosen the Maenaer family. In fact, their questions as to why the Maenaer family was suddenly so favored seemed answered by the engagement.

    Dio had a rare moment of excitement as he watched his court scramble to find favor with his new father-in-law. Even the Prime Minister had extended an invitation.

    The Imperial Diet decided to title Soriel a princess inside the palace as she prepared for the wedding. Her family was helping move Soriel into the Basilinna’s residence, Rose Hall. The progress was impressive. The Maenaer family had enough resources to renovate Rose Hall and add in attendants loyal to Soriel.

    “Soriel will not be lonely at Rose Hall,” Dio noted. “I’m more worried that my chambers will become lonelier as her people take on the palace’s management.”

    “She’s a kind girl. If you find love with her, you won’t have to worry. I have news.”

    “What news?” Dio asked.

    “A palace maid was found murdered in Princess Soriel’s chambers,” Theod said, watching Dio pace the length of his desk. “Her Highness is smart. She utilized her father’s soldiers to report the matter, claiming a cleaning maid found the dead attendant. Still, the inner palace is in turmoil. Your mother insists the dead palace maid is a close confidant and wants answers.”

    Dio scoffed at his mother’s machinations.

    Olneth Adertha could scheme the devil’s fire out of his pit.

    Shaking his head, Dio clasped his hands behind his back, deep in thought.

    Soriel was indeed quite clever. Pulling Thanir Maenaer into the case allowed Raithion to investigate the matter, but the Commandery Prince was not back yet.

    “Any news on Raithion?” Dio asked.

    “He is halfway to the capital,” Theod said. “Our spy reports he stopped at his family home in Draeya County. He stayed a few hours, then closed the place and started a convoy to the capital.”

    “That’s good news for the future of my armies, bad news for the current case,” Dio said. “Olneth will ask the imperial diet for an investigation. She wants to cast doubt on Soriel as a candidate for Basilinna. Soriel has to come out of this clean to retain her status as the Basilinna.”

    “What do we do?” Theod asked, his frown deepening.

    Dio closed his eyes and stopped pacing. He was so close to placing his pieces in the right spots. He could not lose the game now.

    Soriel needed to win so that he could gain the support of both Thanir and Raithion Maenaer. If something happened to Soriel, Raithion would not forgive Dio. Raithion might even become an enemy.

    Gesi Ajai was already on his way to becoming the Minister of Finance. The moment Gesi Ajai gained a foothold in parliament, who knew what plan he would start next.

    Dio could not afford a rebellious Raithion Maenaer.

    “The imperial diet has seven members,” Theod said. “Four on your side, while three follow the Dowager Basilinna’s instructions. Perhaps Princess Soriel will gain their support—”

    “No,” Dio shook his head. “She cannot face an inquiry from the Imperial Diet over the death of a palace attendant. It will cast doubt on her with the parliament. They will ask how a palace attendant died just as Soriel entered it. We need to settle this before my mother seeks an inquiry.”

    “Then—”

    “We need to find my aunt, Princess Sanan,” Dio said, snapping his fingers. He started for the door and turned to look at Theod when his guard remained frozen. “Come on, Theod. There is no time to lose.”

    ****

    Soriel wished her brother was around to give her strength, but Raithion had disappeared two days ago. No one in the family could find him. Not even her father, who tracked Raithion like his shadow.

    “Lord Haedor, are you sure he is not sleeping off a drunken night?” Soriel asked her brother’s most trusted legion officers. “You can tell me. I won’t be angry.”

    “I apologize, Your Highness,” Haedor said, his hands clasped behind his back, standing tall as he held her gaze. “His Highness is completing an assignment.”

    “How can the Draeya Commandery Prince be missing for two days without news of his whereabouts?” Soriel demanded, shaking her head. “Lord Haedor, I really need his help—”

    “Do you need his help to forge evidence after murdering a palace maid?” Dowager Basilinna’s voice filled the room, and Soriel gasped as she stood from her chair.

    The door to her living room opened, and the Dowager Basilinna walked in, followed by three of her attendants and an unfamiliar older woman who looked of rank.

    Soriel swallowed down her fear and curtsied gracefully as her training lessons demanded.

    “Welcome, Your Majesty,” she said in greeting. “Soriel wishes you good health.”

    Olneth ignored her greeting and moved to sit on the chair Soriel had vacated, her attendants moving to stand behind the chair.

    Soriel took three steps away from the armchair. The lady of rank chose to sit on the long couch next to Olneth’s armchair. Soriel stood in the middle of her sitting room, facing two censuring gazes.

    “Greet your elders,” Olneth said, her forbidding tone grudging as she waved to the woman on the long couch. “Princess Sanan is Basileus Dio’s paternal aunt. She lives with the grand dowager Basilinna, Basileus Dio’s grandmother.”

    Soriel took in a deep breath to calm her rioting nerves. She turned to face the new face and executed an elegant curtsey.

    “Soriel greets Princess Aunt. I apologize for not greeting you sooner.”

    “You wouldn’t have known where to find me,” Princess Sanan said, her tone filled with amusement. “Two days in the palace, you’ve already had such a dangerous accident. Child, you need to grow stronger.”

    Soriel lowered her head and nodded, acknowledging the scolding.

    Princess Sanan’s words were too true.

    “Speak, why are you harassing the legion officer?” Olneth asked as she turned her attention to Haedor.

    “He is a legion officer working under my father,” Soriel said. “I asked him to find my brother because I miss him. I wanted to request that my brother toast my wedding.”

    “Hm,” Olneth frowned. “There are rumors that Draeya Commandery Prince has disappeared from the capital. Are you sure he is not out there causing trouble?”

    “He is now responsible for growing the Basileus’s armies,” Princess Sanan said, her tone filled with authority. “Why would a new princess know what Draeya Commandery Prince is doing for the Basileus?”

    Olneth frowned, meeting Sanan’s gaze for a moment before she shrugged.

    “Your big brother is no longer a small official you can demand to see as you wish,” Olneth told Soriel. “He has no time to cater to your whims. He certainly won’t be around to help you resolve this case in your favor.”

    “What case?” Princess Sanan asked. “A Palace Maid was found dead in the new Princess’s chambers. How does such a case involve Princess Soriel other than to frighten her? She must be scared by the skeletons in the closets as she tries to move in.”

    “Your Imperial Highness,” Olneth started to protest.

    “Dowager Basilinna must be concerned about the skeletons in Rose Hall’s closets, too,” Princess Sanan continued. “My mother worries she left ghosts lurking in this residence when she left it to you. She has decided to manage the investigation.”

    “What?” Olneth asked, her eyes widening in shock. “Grand Dowager—”

    “My mother has every reason to involve herself in her grandson’s affairs,” Princess Sanan said. “Princess Soriel is going to be the next Basilinna. We invited her into the palace to learn etiquette and prepare for the wedding. She encountered a frightening scene of a corpse in her closet. Why wouldn’t the Grand Dowager Basilinna involve herself? At the very least, we should clean the closets to ensure this doesn’t happen again. What part do you protest, Dowager Basilinna?”

    Soriel bit her bottom lip as she realized someone had sent her a helper in the form of a Princess Aunt. She kept her gaze down, staring at the red carpet covering the tiled floor.

    “No part,” Olneth said after a moment of silence. “Princess Sanan is right. The closets should be scrubbed clean. No one wants the new Basilinna to think we are savages in the palace.”

    “I’m glad we all agree,” Princess Sanan said, her cheerful tone making Soriel glance up. She caught a brilliant smile on the older woman’s face. “Lord Haedor, am I to understand that you work for the Draeya Commandery Prince?”

    “Your Imperial Highness, my name is Haedor Ayas, a newly promoted general working under Draeya Commandery Prince.”

    “Lord General Haedor,” Princess Sanan said with a nod. “A young woman has lost her life within our palace. The Draeya Commandery Prince’s station is tasked with the safety of our palace. Before we settle matters of clean closets, can I ask you to relay my orders to the Commandery Prince?”

    “Yes, Your Imperial Highness,” Haedor said.

    “Princess Soriel, find me a paper and pen,” Princess Sanan said, reaching into the pockets of her cream dress and pulling out a large gold ring with the Adertha crest, a majestic gold griffin.

    Soriel hurried to her writing desk in the corner and returned with a lap desk, paper, and an ordinary ink pen she used for her daily writing. Thankfully, she had written notes to her big sister Noriel this morning, so the pen was filled with ink.

    Princess Sanan wrote fast and used the red inkpad on the corner of the writing desk to ink the crest on her ring before pressing it to the finished letter.

    “This is an order from the Grand Dowager Basilinna’s office,” Princess Sanan said. “My mother tasks the Commandery Prince to investigate the death of the girl in the closet. He must find out the truth about the palace attendant’s death and how she came to be found in Princess Soriel’s chambers. Is that clear, Lord General Haedor?”

    Haedor moved closer and took the order with both hands, nodding his head with utmost respect before he stepped back.

    “You may go,” Princess Sanan said to him.

    Haedor met Soriel’s gaze for a minute before he left her living room.

    Soriel took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

    “Dowager Basilinna, the order I gave to Lord General, asks the Commandery Prince to report his findings to parliament and Basileus Dio. I hope this meets your requirements for answers?”

    Olneth stared at Princess Sanan for a full minute before she stood in a graceful sweep. The soft fabric of her rich peach dress whispered with the movement. Her hair, long gone gray, was pinned back from her face with expensive jewels. She had a beautiful face, but the beauty looked wicked when Olneth gave Soriel a hateful look before she turned to Princess Sanan.

    “I have no place to protest when Princess Sanan orders an inquiry and involves the parliament,” Olneth said. “I hope to meet the culprit soon.”

    Olneth walked out of Soriel’s living room, followed by her three attendants. Their pace was so fast that it felt like they were going on a running marathon. The attendants slammed the living room door closed.

    Soriel breathed out in relief and stiffened when she heard a soft chuckle. She turned to find Princess Sanan sitting on her long couch, biting her bottom lip.

    “You need to build up your expressions,” Princess Sanan said, her tone amused. “Otherwise, Olneth will eat you alive.”

    “She’s frightening,” Soriel said with a sigh.

    “She can be,” Sanan said, smiling. “Now, come over here and sit with me. I need to hear everything about your encounter with the unalived palace maid in your closet.”

    Soriel stared at Basileus Dio’s aunt for a minute, then because she seemed pretty friendly, she hurried to sit next to her, hoping to make a friend in this place.

    *****

    Raithion returned to the capital with a convoy of stuff. He led them to the Maenaer mansion with confidence. The family had long moved out of the private residence they rented before. Everyone in the capital now knew who they were and was interested in their comings and goings. He found a crowd of carriages waiting outside the gates of the manor.

    “Lord Raith,” Darion said, exiting his carriage to take charge of the chaos at the entrance. “The carriages belong to ministers in court. They want to meet your father.”

    “Where is my father?” Raithion asked, still on his horse, outside the gates.

    “He is in the palace,” Darion said.

    “Direct one of the lieutenants to make a list of the visitors,” Raithion said. “Tell them my father will reach out to them when he has time.”

    Darion nodded to Sharian, who hurried away to complete the task.

    “Who else?” Raithion asked.

    “There is a carriage from Gesi Ajai’s residence,” Darion said. “And another from the palace.”

    “Hm,” Raithion frowned and dismounted his horse. He held on to the reins, still debating whether to head straight to the army commandery before settling in at home. “Where are these two carriages?”

    Darion pointed to his left, where two carriages waited by the manor’s wall. Their presence was relatively discrete, unlike the loud display from the court’s ministers.

    Raithion approached the carriages and stopped a few feet away.

    “What is your message?” Darion called out to the first carriage.

    When he spoke, a delicate hand pulled open the curtain of the first carriage, and Naeri Ajai peeped out with a small smile.

    “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said in greeting. “I wanted to bring you a care package and welcome you back to the capital.”

    Raithion fought a frown. He had no words for Naeri. Looking at her reminded him of the terrible plot her father had hatched against an innocent clan. Thinking about the Sura Clan put him in a bad mood.

    “Your Highness,” A familiar voice said, and Raithion’s attention was drawn to the carriage waiting behind Naeri.

    “Galor?” Raithion frowned, recognizing the lieutenant whose job was to guard Soriel. “Why are you here and not with Soriel?”

    “I have a note for you,” Galor said as Darion hurried to his carriage window. Galor handed Daron a note and bowed his head. “I’ll head back now. See you around.”

    Daron gave the note to Raithion.

    Raithion ignored Naeri’s expectant expression and read his little sister’s note.

    Palace maid murdered in my residence. Worried it was a plot to discredit our family. Please help.’ – Little Bird.

    Raithion reread the note, worry taking over at the fact that his little sister had faced a threat in the place. He moved to mount his horse without a second thought.

    “Lord Raith,” Daron said.

    “Manage everything here, Daron,” Raithion said. “I need to find a little bird.”

    “I will,” Daron promised.

    Raithion turned his horse toward the palace and rode fast, eager to find Soriel.

    ****

    Naeri watched Raithion Maenaer ride away without glancing at her, and fear enveloped her heart. She had known it was madness to come here to find him, but for him to ignore her so thoroughly…it was like she didn’t exist in his world.

    And what a vibrant world it was, Naeri thought, watching the people exiting carriages and carrying packages and plants into the Maenaer manor. The mood was jovial and energetic, and everyone was friendly. It was nothing like her family’s mood; everyone tiptoed according to Gesi Ajai’s whims and mood.

    “My lady,” the man Raithion had called Daron said.

    “Yes,” Naeri said.

    “I’m sorry we cannot receive you today,” Daron said. “The residence is in transition after travel. Perhaps we can receive you another day.”

    “Of course,” Naeri said. “Let me give you the care package for His Highness.”

    Daron gave her a polite smile. He even took the package her maid handed him with politeness. However, as Naeri’s carriage drove away, she looked out the window in time to see Daron give her package to a legion officer and not the woman she had noted managing Raithion’s personal items. Naeri frowned but did not think much of it.

    After all, she would soon be responsible for Raithion’s personal matters. Maybe he had a legion officer serving in his personal residence. In time, she would perhaps get Raithion to rush to her side the way he had gone to meet his little sister in the palace.

    ****

    Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 6

    Arc 2: The Case of the Belladonna Poisoned Palace Maid

    Ch. 6

    Good fortune and smart spending allowed Gesi Ajai to own a home on a quiet street near the palace. It was a neighborhood where most palace officials lived, allowing wives to form groups and children to keep the right company.

    Gesi appreciated the pretentiousness of Crystal Lane. It came in handy now, with his daughter’s marriage ceremony in preparation. Officials from various ministries sent gifts and stopped to talk, offering congratulations and seeking deeper connections.

    Gesi seized this goodwill to promote his thoughts on the finance ministry and seek support for his nomination by the Prime Minister’s men. So far, he had met fifteen palace court officials and felt confident about his nomination. But he intended to continue until no question would be the next minister of finance.

    Gesi smiled at the thought and settled into an armchair in his great room. He watched his wife talking to three ladies-in-waiting who would move into Draeya Commandery Prince’s manor with his daughter. A young woman with dark hair turned and glanced at him, giving a short nod. Gesi held her gaze and smiled when she focused back on his wife’s words.

    He had placed one of his assets in his daughter’s staff. The girl, Rassa, was tasked with spying on the Maenaer house and reporting back to him. If she managed to get any intel, it would be beneficial; if not, she would act as a protector for Naeri.

    He hated to admit it, but his daughter refused to understand his ambition. She held on to the ideals she learned in her schoolroom, clinging to the idea of love and recoiling at any mention of treason or murder. She was a noblewoman. Gesi chuckled. He probably deserved this retribution after years of plotting and deeds he dared not speak of.

    Shaking his head, he picked up the teacup from the stool on his right. Gesi sipped the warm tea and smiled. He watched his wife admonish the three young women.

    Sazama entered the great hall, walking at a hurried pace. He greeted Gesi’s wife before navigating the many chairs to reach Gesi.

    “How is it going?” Gesi asked as Sazama sat on a stool near his armchair.

    “I’ve been cleaning up our traces in the forged silver case. The magistrate at Naga Port claims the Draeya General received an order to capture the thieves stealing the Sura Clan Ore. We can’t find Hulan, who we placed at the port to track the Sura. Draeya General may have caught him.”

    Gesi Ajai frowned.

    “It doesn’t matter,” Gesi said, shaking his head. “The deal I made with Basileus Dio to get Naeri married into the Maenaer house gives us some protection. Basileus Dio will suppress any evidence brought to him by the Draeya General. Still, we should find Hulan. In case he has turned on us.”

    “I’ll keep looking for him,” Sazama said. “The Sura workshop leases have all reverted to the finance office. I have one of our men working to take them over with the magistrate’s help.”

    “That’s good news,” Gesi said with a satisfied nod. He sipped his tea again and smiled at the thought of the revenue the workshops would bring him. “The Sura?”

    “The Sura Chieftain is dead,” Sazama said. “His subordinates held a funeral in the Sura Manor before they left. We found burned pyres in the backyard. Most of the Sura have left the city. Should we let them be? What if they return? What if they discover what we did?”

    “Send a few mercenaries after them,” Gesi said. “Scare them from returning as they flee to the port. If possible, take care of any Sura Clan members who try to stay on the mainland.”

    “I’ll make sure,” Sazama nodded. His gaze strayed to Gesi’s wife and the three ladies-in-waiting who were now sipping tea. “Congratulations on Naeri’s wedding.”

    “It’s a good result,” Gesi said. “I had hoped she would become the Basilinna, but a Commandery Princess is also useful.”

    “Don’t you find it strange how Basileus Dio is marrying Soriel?” Sazama asked. “We managed to get the Dowager Basilinna to approve Naeri. Days after, Basileus Dio is engaged to Soriel Maenaer, and Naeri is entering the Maenaer house.”

    “It is suspect,” Gesi said. “But we all have our schemes. The Basileus would be an idiot not to have his own. I’m sure there are reasons he didn’t want to marry Naeri. What matters now is to grow Naeri’s power and gain a foothold in court. A Basilinna can always change. She must also follow her husband’s edicts. I’ll take it as my good fortune that Naeri fell in with the Draeya General. After all, a Commandery Princess has more freedom.”

    “Hm,” Sazama said, his tone quiet, though he did not voice more thoughts on the matter.

    “What’s next?” Sazama asked.

    “We need to solidify our business in the Sura workshops. Get people to forget that the Sura Clan ever existed in this capital. I need profit flowing,” Gesi said. “The next part of our plan requires a considerable amount of money. Get started.”

    “I’ll see to it,” Sazama said as he got up from the stool and headed out of the great room.

    Gesi watched him leave and smiled at the thought of having someone so energetic working for him. Things were flowing quite well.

    *****

    The Sura carriage stopped at two rest stops on its way to the Naga State Port.

    The first time it stopped, Alise, Azula’s big sister, was ill. A healer saw her at the inn and prescribed calming herbs to help her get through the journey.

    The second time, Azula exited the carriage and entered a busy inn. He stayed for an hour. Three passenger carriages followed him out when he exited the inn.

    Raithion could only assume the passengers in the carriages were Sura Clan members struggling to get to the port. He watched the carriages form a convoy, moving steadily to the port. His heart ached with guilt and pity. He grew angry with his father and hoped to change the case’s outcome in the capital, but there was no way now.

    The only thing he could do was quietly escort Azula’s people to the port and make sure nothing happened to Azula. He could not trust his father or Basileus Dio.

    The Sura Clan was inconvenient. The Forged Silver Case would only end when Azula’s people stayed quiet.

    Shaking his head, Raithion adjusted his hold on his horse’s reins. He led his horse through the thick trees, forging his path parallel to the main road. Behind him, fifteen legion officers followed. He had left Haedor in the capital to keep up appearances. He was supposed to be preparing for his wedding, not out here protecting a criminal clan.

    “Your Highness,” the acting lieutenant said, using his new title. “We have movement on the other side.”

    “Let the carriages pass and intercept,” Raithion ordered.

    Raithion stopped his horse, dismounted, and focused on beating back the mercenaries he had been sure would be sent to clean up the Sura Clan. He pulled out the daggers Azula had given him from the sheaths the Maenaer blacksmith had given him before he left. He looked at the carriage carrying Azula and his sister before he turned back to join his officers as they engaged the approaching fierce mercenaries.

    The fight was fast and bloody. Raithion cut down three of the men, all dressed in black. They could not keep any of them alive. They chased down anyone who tried to return to the capital. He could not have them report back to their master until Azula and his people were safe.

    The journey to the port was slow. The carriages following Azula were filled with women and children. Azula’s carriage led the way to the Sura Clan’s shipping dock when they reached the port city.

    Raithion made sure his soldiers remained hidden. It was difficult to forget Azula’s anger when they last met, and he was not sure Azula would like to see him now.

    ****

    Azula helped two children out of the carriage and watched them run up the gangplank, boarding the last Sura Clan ship headed to the island. The port city was eerily quiet beyond the docks. News had reached the merchants and the port city dwellers of the Sura Clan’s misfortunes.

    There was no easy way to discuss the matter.

    Azula had no idea where to begin to understand what had happened to his father.

    Why did his father die? Who dragged his father to the magistrate’s compound? Why did his family have to leave the capital?

    Alise was not talking. She could not provide the answers.

    The Sura Clan’s main council was already on the island. The only person who could provide answers was Juya or his mother, but they had no time to discuss. Between getting the women and children into the last ship and ensuring their warehouse was emptied and no Sura Clan member was left behind, there was no time for a good conversation.

    “What about the carriage?” Sennin asked Azula when everyone was onboard.

    “Um,” Azula stared at the carriage he had hoped to give to Alise for her wedding. It had carried his father’s ashes instead of a bride. “Let my father finish his journey on it. I’ll disassemble it when we reach the island.”

    “Alright,” Sennin called out to the men who had journeyed with them, and they worked on getting the carriage into the cargo hold.

    Azula stood on a path he had stood at days ago and stared at the Sura Clan’s warehouse. He remembered the happier days, arriving on this dock to deliver Magnus’s mangoes to the many merchants in the port city or delivering ore to the warehouse for transport to the capital. To meet Alise when she returned to the island after weeks of being away. Now, the warehouse doors were closed. The port city dwellers watched them warily; no one dared approach them to escape trouble.

    Shaking his head, Azula started to turn to board the ship, only to stop when a commanding shout rang out.

    “Halt! Azula Doriel, the port’s magistrate, wants us to confiscate your ship. Get everything off. That ship is not going anywhere.”

    Azula turned to find four lieutenants from the magistrate’s compound with dozens of port officers. They held big sticks, ready to beat Azula and his people into submission at the first sign of resistance.

    Azula chuckled and sneered as he turned to look at the lieutenants.

    “Catching thieves is too difficult, but stepping on those who have fallen is easy,” Azula said. “Let me see you try to get my people out.”

    “Don’t think we won’t beat you to death to get through,” one of the lieutenants said.

    “Try it,” Azula shouted, his fingers in tight fists. Rage built up so deep inside him he worried he would explode into tiny pieces. “Beat me to death if you can.”

    “Azula.”

    A scared voice called his name and pulled him out of the rage. He turned to find Alise hurrying down the gangplank, still dressed in the white mourning dress she had worn at their family’s manor in the capital city.

    “Be careful,” Alise said, gripping his left arm. “Nothing can happen to you. I’ll try talking to them.”

    Azula started to protest her gentle approach, but she never got a chance to speak. An arrow sunk into her left shoulder, dragging a scream from Azula. He wrapped his arm around Alise tight to keep her standing and turned to see one of the magistrate’s officers holding a bow. How dare they! How dare they!

    “Return…to the ship,” Alise managed, gripping the front of Azula’s shirt.

    Azula could not look away from the arrow lodged into her shoulder, holding Alise tight, frozen in place. Blood soaked Alise’s white dress, and he let out another cry as she gasped.

    “Azula,” Alise pulled on the front of his shirt with her free hand.

    Azula stared at the wound on his sister’s left shoulder with growing despair and anger. Alise tugged on his shirt another second, then pushed away from him. He reached for her, but she slapped his left cheek with unprecedented strength.

    “Azula Doriel, our Sura ship is strong enough to withstand the rigors of the sea. A few arrows will not bring it down. Let’s go, or we will die here,” Alise ordered. “Let’s go.”

    Azula ignored the magistrate’s officers behind them and lifted Alise into his arms. He raced up the gangplank.

    “Raise the gangplank. Cast off port bow line,” Azula yelled, carrying his sister to sit on a crate.

    He was glad when the ship’s crew got to work, calling out orders and scrambling to get the ship sailing.

    “Casting off port bow line,” One of the crew called out.

    “Women and children below deck,” Azula called. “Arrows inbound, prepare to defend. Standby to raise the main. Find Torak. I need his help.”

    “Bowline all clear!”

    Sennin led strong men to the rails, each holding arrows and bows. A wave of arrows lined the side of their ship, and Sennin’s men retaliated by releasing arrows to the line of attackers.

    Juya, one of the council members, hurried to Azula and Alise.

    “Torak is no longer with us,” Juya said when Azula gave him a confused glance. “He was with Chief Marius at the magistrate.”

    Torak was his father’s most trusted aide. He lived in the Doriel Manor in the capital and knew everything about their family. He was practically an uncle.

    Azula sighed as another loss hit him.

    “Help my sister to her quarters. Get a healer to remove the arrow. Tell the healer to ensure the arrow was not poisoned,” Azula said. “I have to get us away from this port.”

    “Don’t worry,” Juya said, lifting Alise with care. “Your mother and mine are with us. They will help. Don’t worry about anything below deck. I’ll handle it.”

    “Thank you,” Azula said, watching Juya hurry away as fast as he could with the chaos on deck.

    “Bow clear!”

    The confirmation pulled Azula out of his thoughts, and he decided to worry about Alise once they were in the middle of the sea.

    “Raise the main,” Azula called and hurried to join Sennin on the rail. He was surprised to find the magistrate’s legion officers fighting off men dressed in black.

    “What’s going on? Who are they?” Sennin asked as he watched the fiercest man in black fighting with two blades.

    The unknown fighter slashed at the magistrate’s officers down without mercy, turning the dock into a bloody scene. Then, the majestic fighter joined the daggers he held in a fast, efficient move and turned the daggers into a long blade.

    Azula breathed in as he recognized the blades he had crafted and gifted to Raithion Maenaer in a show of naïve trust. He remembered enjoying Raithion’s smile as they rode the carriage to the capital. Raithion thanked him for the blades.

    Azula closed his eyes when the image of his father lying on a palette in the city’s morgue filled his brain. Raithion’s promises were so easily defeated.

    “Why is he here?” Azula murmured and frowned when Raithion finished dealing with the magistrate’s legion officers and hurried to the end of the dock, watching him.

    “Should we stop our departure?” Sennin asked. “Whoever he is, he helped us. We should thank him.”

    “Alise is injured,” Azula said. “Our clan is hunted. We can’t stop. Whoever he is doesn’t matter anymore. Our Sura Clan has nothing to do with a master of ashes.”

    “Azula,” Sennin started, but Azula gave Raithion one last glance and turned away.

    “Azula hands over to the shipmaster,” he called out and nodded when their Ship’s Captain took command.

    Azula headed below deck in search of Alise and his mother.

    As for his crush on Raithion Maenaer, he would consider it a period of bad judgment.

    ****

    Raithion watched the last Sura Clan ship sail away with a heavy heart. He gripped the joined dagger handle tight and wished he could change the outcome of the Forged Silver Coins case. Shaking his head, he wished he and Azula had met under better circumstances.

    “What are your orders, Your Highness?” his lieutenant asked.

    “Clean up the magistrate’s office,” Raithion said. “Send a message to the Naga State King. Tell him the port’s magistrate has succumbed to injuries incurred in a training exercise. Appoint the number one scholar from our Draeya County to the magistrate’s position. Replace the legion officers with the forces from Draeya.”

    “You’re taking control of the port,” the lieutenant said.

    “Quietly,” Raithion said with a sigh. “Do it quietly. Don’t alert my father or Gesi Ajai. Use secret soldiers to get any Sura Clan stragglers to the Sura Island. No harm should come to them. Those are my orders.”

    “I will relay them. Do you think the young Chieftain’s son will ever return?” the lieutenant asked.

    Raithion felt his heart clench with disappointment.

    “I hope he returns,” Raithion said. “I hope I’m strong enough to protect him when he returns.”

    *****

    Azula sat on a chair beside his mother. They watched the healers work on Alise on her bed. Alise was pale. Her strawberry-blonde hair was scattered on the pillows, clean and free of the dark charcoal they had used to hide its color. Azula’s gaze lingered on the bloody bandages on a tray next to one of the healers.

    She ensured they did not fall on the floor, even as the second healer added more.

    “The wound is clean,” the healer said. “Lena, pass me the yarrow powder.”

    Lena stopped arranging the bloody bandages and handed over a bottle from a clean tray.

    “How is it, Evie?” Lasma asked, a frown creasing her brow as she gripped Azula’s right hand tight. Her worry for Alise was palpable.

    “She’s going to be in pain for a while,” Evie said as she worked. “The wound is deep. We’ll need to worry about the use of her shoulder later. For now, I’ve stopped the bleeding and cleaned out any debris left by the arrow. We’ll work to keep her comfortable and the wound clean until we arrive home.”

    “Thank goodness,” Lasma said with a nod.

    “There is something else you should know, Chief Lasma,” Evie said, pausing to look at Lasma and Azula.

    “Out with it, Evie,” Lasma said when she hesitated. “Is my daughter in danger?”

    “She is with child,” Evie said.

    Lasma gasped and stood up to hurry to the bed. Lena picked up the tray of dirty bandages and took it away. Lasma sat on the clean covers and reached for Alise’s left wrist.

    Azula froze in his chair and prayed Evie was wrong.

    Lasma was a healer’s daughter and had grown up learning to read pulses. Now, as the wife of a chieftain, she had spent most of her time helping women through their pregnancies. It took her no time to read her own daughter’s pulse. Her wide eyes filled with tears, and Azula nodded.

    “Do you know the father?” Evie asked, her voice soft and kind.

    “Yes,” Lasma said, shaking her head. “Yemin.”

    Evie let out a sad sigh, and they all stared at Alise.

    “Did father acknowledge him?” Azula asked.

    “He did,” Lasma said. “Alise invited him for a meal at home. Yemin came over and promised to protect Alise for the rest of his life. We waited for her to braid Yemin’s hair for the first time when you arrived. We should not have waited.”

    “Then,” Azula swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Let’s take it that she did. Yemin is my brother-in-law. We shall give him this honor from now on. I’ll help him raise his son or daughter as a second father.”

    “It is the right thing, Azula,” Lasma said, holding Alise’s hand tight.

    “Well, then I’ll let everyone know. It is good to have something to celebrate after all the tragedy,” Evie said. “We’ll work to make sure Alise is in good health. She’s now two people.”

    “Thank you, Evie,” Lasma said and nodded when Evie started to right Alise’s clothes.

    Evie and Lena had helped her change into a fresh white dress. The color made Alise look too pale, but it was one they would all have to wear for the next three months as they mourned the dead.

    “Mom,” Azula said. “What happened in the capital? Why did Pa end up in the city morgue?”

    Lasma shook her head and shifted to help Evie arrange the covers around Alise. When Alise was comfortable, Evie left to brew medicinal herbs with Lena.

    “Someone set your father up,” Lasma sighed heavily.

    She wore a long white dress, and white strands stained her strawberry-blonde hair. A white band controlled her hair, keeping the braids she wore as the Chieftain’s wife down her back.

    Azula did not rush her, watching as Lasma rubbed Alise’s left hand to infuse her energy into Alise, who had passed out from the pain of removing the arrow earlier. She had not woken up since.

    “Your father worried the scarcity of ore in our workshops would anger our customers. Which was why he asked you to deliver the ore in person,” Lasma said. “Tensions in the capital were rising. Forged silver coins were flowing in the markets. Everyone suffered a deficit in the exchange bureaus. Losing too much and not making enough,” Lasma shook her head. “Thinking about it now, we had no chance.”

    “Why?”

    “Someone analyzed the forged silver and said the ore at the core of the forged coins was ours,” Lasma said. “The imperial court took over the matter, and the finance minister started an investigation. Worried there would be trouble, your father asked Yemin to make sure our workshops had no molds that could make coins in the workshops. He also asked the old General Maenaer for help. Something went wrong in between. The magistrate’s officers caught Yemin destroying molds in one of the workshops. They arrested him and everyone in the workshop.”

    Lasma started crying, and Azula closed his eyes.

    “The Inspector General in charge of the forged silver coin case dragged your father away to his offices,” Lasma said. “They said it was an inquiry, but he was worried. He asked Alise to move our assets and start clearing out our Doriel Manor in the city. I helped her where I could, getting the old clan matriarchs out of the city. We rushed everyone out, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough, and we could not save Marius.”

    Azula opened his eyes and stood. He hurried to hug his mother as she cried hard.

    “Marius did nothing wrong,” Lasma said, sobbing into his shoulder. “He cared for the clan and ensured our workshops were running well. He never stepped foot into the political world of the capital. Never. As we left the city, I was shocked to hear strangers accusing him of collaborating with the finance minister to forge silver coins. The rumors escalated. People started throwing stones at our clan members. Our hair is too distinct. It was so easy for them to turn against us. They lynched the Remming boy outside one of the exchange bureaus. That’s when we knew we had to get everyone out.”

    Azula swallowed down his anger and held his mother tight.

    “What are we going to do now?” Lasma asked, sobbing. “What will we do now.”

    “Don’t worry about that right now,” Azula soothed. “I’m here, and so is Alise. We still have Magnus on the island. Mom, don’t worry. We’ll get through it. I’ll see to it.”

    Azula held his mother tight as she cried for a while, then when she was stable, she took a deep breath and leaned on him.

    “When we get to the island, you’ll have to lead the funeral ceremony,” Lasma said. “So many of our people are dead. Complete the funeral ceremony well.”

    “I will arrange it,” Azula said.

    “Juya is reliable. He knows the procedures and does not mind helping,” Lasma said. “Alvas won’t mind managing the meals. You can also lean on Kalas and Sennin. Do you remember how to blow the mourning horn?”

    “I won’t forget how,” Azula said, staring at Alise’s pale face in the bed. “Our family has faced such a catastrophe at the hands of someone. The least I can do is send them to rest well and find a way to get our family justice.”

    “Don’t be vengeful,” Lasma said, gripping Azula’s right wrist tight. “Look at me, Azula Doriel.”

    Azula tried not to, but she tugged on his wrist.

    “Now!”

    Azula swallowed his anger down and met her green gaze.

    “You have your father’s eyes,” she said. “Marius was kind and took care of his clansmen first. He lived for his people. You are his son. Your priority is the clan and your sister’s well-being. You have already promised to be a father to her child. Do you know vengeance will destroy everything you hope to protect?”

    “Mom.”

    “Promise me now,” Lasma said. “You will not avenge your father.”

    Azula cursed inside and held his mother’s gaze, wondering if he could lie to her, but she narrowed her gaze at him.

    “You,” Lasma said. “The only vow I want to hear is that you will focus on protecting your people.”

    Azula sighed.

    “I vow to protect the Sura, my family, and the generations to come,” Azula said.

    “No vengeance,” Lasma said.

    “I will not seek vengeance,” Azula said, but he would discover the truth of his father’s death. Draw it out to the open and let others take vengeance.

    “You’re a good man,” Lasma said with a nod. “I’ll hold you to your promise.”

    Azula kissed his mother’s left cheek, then her right, and hugged her tight.

    *****

    The sun rose bright, and the Sura Clan’s wild forests were awash in vibrant greens, cheerful birds, and wild animals living their lives. Harmony filled the wild, but sorrow ruled the descendants of the Sura Clan.

    Azula Doriel, the second child of the fallen Chieftain, stepped down the steps outside the grand hall found in the village center. His feet were in flat sandals adorned with gold satin straps.

    White ash covered Azula’s feet. He wore a long white sarong with shorts underneath. The white sarong was tied fast around his hips with a thin gold belt. He also wore a wider gold belt embedded with carnelian stones, large and small, to protect the bearer of the dead. On his wrists were gold cuffs, also adorned with carnelian stones. His long strawberry blonde hair was combed out today, with no braids in sight. His hair was left to fall free down his back to symbolize profound loss.

    Azula wore nothing else. His bare chest was clean and free of jewelry or clothing. Azula looked up at the bright sky and wondered when some of the light would penetrate his grieving soul. Shaking his head, he walked down the stone path with deliberate steps. Ahead of him was a tight circle made by the people who had lost a relative in the capital’s massacre.

    The grieving made a path for him to enter the circle, and he held out his hands and closed his eyes. Each approached Azula and marked his bare chest with wood ash mixed with carnelian stone dust. He waited with patience as they marked his body.

    When they stopped, Magnus walked up to him with a torch drenched with sulfur and had a long gold handle to protect the bearer. The sulfur would keep the fire burning for an hour. The torch symbolized an eternal fire burning to light the way for the departed.

    “Azula Doriel, son of Chieftain Marius Doriel, we task you with leading the departed to the afterlife,” Magnus said, his voice booming as everyone stood quiet, listening. “Lead them so they may find their way to peace and forget the woes of this life. May your steps be steady so they may find the courage to follow. May your loss be eased when you reach your destination so that you may return to find us, the living, waiting for you.”

    “The message is heard,” Azula said, his voice laced with unshed tears. “I will lead the way.”

    Magnus took the torch from him with his left hand and held out his right to indicate the way to the mourning horn. Azula looked around the crowd of his people, giving each one a nod of reassurance, before he took the necessary steps to the massive coiled horn forged with bronze. It sat on a stone pedestal, its surface carved with the Sura clan tribal designs. An ancestor had forged it long before Azula was born.

    Azula climbed the broad steps to the blowing end of the horn and took several breaths to control his breathing. He made the first blow. It was thunderous, signaling the start of the final journey. He was to blow the horn three times to indicate the clan’s chief had died and left his seat vacant. Otherwise, one blow of the horn was enough for the clan members.

    Azula blew the second one, and tears filled his eyes when he spotted Alise coming out of the large hall with Juya helping to steady her steps. She was still in pain; her wound had not healed yet. Alise gripped Juya’s hand tight when Azula started blowing the last one, long and hard to share the brevity of the loss.

    Azula stopped and stepped down, tears streaming down his face. He took the torch from Magnus and would have started walking to the path leading to the mountain’s caves, but Alise shouted his name.

    “Wait,” Alise said. “Wait for me, Azu.”

    Azula stopped and turned to see Juya carrying and hurrying to his side. When she stood before him, she held out a thick gold necklace with a large carnelian stone hanging on the end. Azula bent his head and let her place the necklace around his neck. She ensured his hair was free and reached up to wipe his tears with her palms.

    “May your steps be steady so that they are not afraid. When you finish your task, return home, and I’ll make sure a bowl of soup waits for you,” Alise said.

    “Mm,” Azula said, not touching her. He did not want to make her white dress dirty with all the ashes on his body. He took in a deep breath and stepped away from Alise. He gave Juya a grateful glance, then headed out to lead the procession to the mountain caves.

    The stone path leading to the mountains was wide enough for a carriage. Four men led the way, hitting the drums to make way. The sound was more symbolic than practical, as everyone on the island was attending the procession.

    Azula followed the four men, his steps steady and deliberate. He carried the gold torch high, lighting the way for the carriage with four horses behind him. The carriage he forged for Alise now carried the ashes of his people to their final resting place.

    The walk took an hour. Everyone Azula met sprinkled him with carnelian stone dust, hoping to add to the stones he already carried on his jewelry. The path turned uneven at the mountain, and thirty-six volunteers retrieved the ash bags from the carriage.

    Azula was not surprised to see his mother carrying her husband’s ashes as she stopped right behind him. If Alise could, she would stand next to Lasma, holding Yemin’s ashes. Instead, Alvas stood next to Lasma in Alise’s stead.

    When everyone was ready, Azula led the procession deeper into the mountains to the sacred cave with the deepest tunnel. The tunnel led to a hot lava river in the depths of the Sura Clan. The lava river had long gone silent, but there were seasons when it turned active. The Sura ancestors believed the fire god would lead them to the afterlife, burning away their sins and bad luck, leaving only good fortune.

    Azula stopped at the most prominent spot, holding the torch above his head. His mother stood on his right, and Alvas stood on his left. They waited as the others came and dropped the bags of ashes down the tunnel. Thirty-one bags of ashes were released down the tunnel. Then, it was Alva’s turn. Azula pulled off the chain around his neck and handed it to Alva. She tied it around Yemin’s ashes and let him go to the afterlife.

    Then, there was Lasma.

    Azula held his left hand to her, and she took off the wide gold cuff with carnelian stones. Holding the torch with his left hand, he moved his right hand to her. She took off the second gold cuff. Smiling at her, he extended his hands and nodded to the gold belt around his waist. It was heavy with carnelian stones. Alvas helped him unclip the belt. She was careful to leave the thin gold belt around his waist as it held the long white sarong in place. Azula watched his mother wrap his father’s ashes in the gold belt, clipping the cuffs to the belt.

    Lasma held his gaze for a minute, and then she let out a soft breath as she let go of Marius’s ashes. As the ashes descended and left their sight, none of them cried, not wanting to burden him with their grief. Crying would be later.

    Azula nodded to Alvas. Alvas wrapped strong arms around Lasma and led her out of the cave.

    Looking at his fellow clan members, Azula lifted the torch and tossed it into the tunnel.

    “The fallen have found their way,” Azula said, raising his voice for all to hear. “May they rest in eternal peace. Now and forever.”

    “May they rest in peace,” the answer came.

    Azula stared at the disappearing torch down the tunnel and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to seek vengeance. He would work at protecting his people for now, for his sister and her unborn child. As for the truth that had led to this tragedy, it would wait, but he would get it out.

    Letting out a soft sigh, he turned when Kalas gripped his left elbow and pulled him away from the tunnel’s edge of the tunnel.

    “Let’s go,” Kalas said. “You still have to walk back to the village hall for everyone to be at ease. Don’t linger here.”

    Azula met Kalas’s gaze, nodded, and left the mountain cave.

    Outside, he spotted the gorgeous carriage he had built with love. Azula had doused the carriage with igniting fuel before it started its journey up the mountain. Kalas set the horses free and sent them on the path back to the village.

    Azula took the fire torch Kalas handed him and stood before the carriage. His thoughts filled with the memory of playing chess with Raithion, playing cards, and eating snacks as Raithion sat still on the bench. Then, the memory of Alise curled on one of the benches as she clutched Yemin’s ashes took precedence.

    Shaking his head, Azula stepped forward and set the carriage on fire. It was good to burn away bad luck and hope for good fortune in the future. When he had time, he would make a new one.

    “What about the ore hidden inside?” Sennin asked, coming to join them.

    “Let it burn,” Azula said, his voice turning cold. “Let it serve as a reminder that someone dared use our ore to frame our clansmen. None of us should forget this painful lesson.”

    Kalas sighed, and Sennin squeezed Azula’s right shoulder tight. They watched the carriage burn to ashes, and once it crumbled, Azula threw the torch he used to ignite it into the broken mess and headed down the path.

    Someone sprayed him with cold water from a bottle, and he hissed but did not complain. There would be more as his clansmen worked to wash away the ashes from his body. He was drenched with water when he reached the village hall.

    Kalas and Sennin pulled Azula into a white tent, where he found a bath filled with warm water and a set of fresh clothes waiting on a stool.

    Azula bathed fast, washing away ash remnants from his hair and body. When he was clean, he dried himself and wore fresh clothes. They were white, too. White shorts, trousers, and a long white tunic adorned with gold embroidery on the hem. His hair was to stay unbraided for three months. He was unmarried and now without a father. The loss was his lot.

    Azula wore white socks and sank his feet into comfortable white boots. He stepped out of the tent, and Kalas placed a long, heavy wool coat on his shoulders.

    “Your sister worries you’ll catch a cold,” Kalas said.

    Azula wore the coat and freed his hair as he walked up the steps and entered the large village hall. It was alive with activity. Long tables and benches filled the large hall. Attendants served food, and everyone was tending to bereaved families. They all greeted Azula when they saw him, stopping to give him comforting words, promises for a better future, and kind words about Marius.

    It took him a long time to reach the bench at the dais where Alise, Lasma, and Magnus waited for him.

    “Sit, child,” Magnus said, leading him to the chair between Alise and Lasma. “Eat first. You might fall at this rate. Kalas, get him hot spiced teas. His hair is not dry yet.”

    Azula ate when they placed a bowl of vegetable soup before him. He drank the hot spiced tea when it came and listened when people walked up to the table to talk about Marius. He kept his thoughts carefully blank, dealing with only the immediate events in the hall. He was comfortable until Magnus’s voice broke in.

    “We need to name the next chieftain,” Magnus said.

    “There is no need to name the next chief,” Azula said. “Alise is the next one.”

    “No,” Alise said, shocking Azula.

    “What?” Azula turned to face her. “Alise—”

    Alise glanced at him, then smiled as she looked at their mother.

    “You should tell him,” Alise said. “It will be easier coming from you.”

    “Tell me what?” Azula asked, frowning at Alise. “If you are worried about the baby, don’t. I’ll help you raise the child. Yemin is my brother-in-law. You don’t have to worry—”

    “Her pregnancy is fragile,” Lasma said, cutting into Azula’s tirade. “Alise wants to keep Yemin’s baby. She needs to be taken care of with no stress and no chances of infection. Today was an exception. She could not miss her husband and her father’s funerals. But from now on…”

    Lasma trailed off.

    “Azula,” Alise said, reaching for Azula’s left hand. “Please help me find a way to save Yemin’s child. It is the last thing he left me. I can’t lose this baby. Please take over as Chieftain. We need someone who can help rebuild our strength. Everyone has lost so much. Our island is home, but we need supplies to keep going. We need commerce and education. Otherwise, we will stagnate and disappear.”

    “I-I-,” Azula started to protest, but then he caught Magnus’s gaze. “You too?”

    “There is no other choice,” Magnus said.

    “You can be—

    “Marius was Chieftain,” Magnus said. “His children shall take over the mantle. I’m too independent to care for a clan, Azu. You know that. You’ve been managing this island on my behalf for ages.”

    “But—”

    Azula stopped when Lasma slammed her fist on the table, upsetting her plate.

    “Step up,” Lasma said. “The clan is looking to us for a way forward. If you’re hesitating and unsure, what do you think will happen to all of us?”

    Azula gripped Alise’s hand tight and stared at the people talking and moving around the hall. They managed their grief and the loss of their livelihoods and lifestyles they had forged on the mainland. The island was going to change now, and it would take work.

    Azula met Alise’s expectant gaze and let out a sigh. He wanted Alise to take care of her unborn baby. She was injured now, and her baby was too small and defenseless. Yemin was gone, and she could not get another from him. If she lost this child, he shook his head, unable to imagine the loss.

    “Fine, I’ll do it,” Azula said. “But, Alise, we must agree. I’m stepping in for now because we are in a fragile state. Much later, if I come to you—”

    “I know,” Alise smiled and leaned in to kiss his right cheek. “I’ll listen when you come to me much later. I’ll take it on without protest by then.”

    “Good,” Azula nodded and hugged her with care. “I love you, Sis.”

    “I love you too. I’ll try to help out where I can, but it might not be much,” Alise said as she sat back, her hand over her stomach.

    Azula stared at her protective hand on her stomach and nodded in understanding.

    “Okay.” Azula nodded, meeting Magnus’s gaze. He gave him a decisive nod.

    “Glad we have cleared that,” Magnus said with a relieved sigh. “I’ll call the council now, and we can announce it. Rebuilding will start tomorrow. I received a message from the port master at Rewa Port. The Nerasa Kingdom in the northeast has been interested in our ore for some time. We have been relying on Lyria to keep us safe, but now the island is abandoned. We need to find protection.”

    “Nerasa has wanted to annex our island since they discovered we exist,” Lasma said. “Are you sure we can trust them now that Lyria Kingdom is against us?”

    “We’ll have to,” Magnus said.

    “Alternatively, we can also change our political structure,” Alise said, her tone thoughtful. She shook her head as she rubbed her stomach. “Our current standing makes us easy to discard. Sura Mountain is wanted when we provide goods the larger empire wants, but they discard us when they have no use for us. It is fracturing our people. We can’t go on like this.”

    “We belong to the Lyria Kingdom,” Azula reminded her. “Some of our clan members have married partners from the kingdom.”

    “And I don’t take it lightly, Azu,” Alise said. “Still, to be easily discarded, our people murdered like they are flies to swat away. No one should normalize it.”

    “What is your thought?” Lasma asked, looking at Alise.

    “We relied too hard on the kingdom for schooling, commerce, healers, and protection. The Sura Clan men are strong enough to make a good army. We should grow one. We can build our schools and forge products like your carriage to make a kingdom come looking for us. When they do, we shall trade by our rules and our circumstances. No one in the Sura Clan shall bow down to another kingdom again.”

    Silence filled the hall, and Azula lifted his head to see their people listening to Alise. She remained a leader, even though she had fallen for the moment.

    “Then,” Azula said with a nod. “Let’s build our Sura Island on our own.”

    “Hm,” Alise said, then turned to Magnus. “Then let’s do it now so that he can rest.”

    Azula watched Magnus hurry away, intent on convening the council. Azula gripped Alise’s right hand, afraid of never being able to let go of the yoke about to fall on his shoulders.

    “I’ll hold you to your promise,” Azula said, meeting Alise’s green eyes. “When you are stronger in the future, you will take back the mantle. It will always be yours.”

    “What are you afraid of?” Alise asked, reaching out to caress his right cheek. “I’m here with you. You’re not alone, Azula. Let’s get through this one. I’ll lean on you for now.”

    Azula nodded, then got up when Magnus returned, followed by the council members, including Juya. Two spiritual monks from the Sura Mountain temple near the deep caves followed.

    Azula let out a soft breath. It looked like he could not keep his clothes on today.

    Lasma stood, too, and urged him to remove his white wool coat. She handed it to Alise, who remained seated. Azula removed his tunic and dumped it on his chair. Clenching his hands tight, he paused when Lasma took his right hand and led him around their table to meet the council. The clan could not celebrate a chieftain named on a day of mourning, nor did he get braids in his hair.

    No, he got a prayer in the form of a tattoo on his back to give him strength and to protect him as he fought to protect the clan.

    Azula glanced at Alise before he stepped down. She gave him a slight smile and nodded. She looked confident in his ability to lead the clan, but Azula worried. He had grown up carefree, free to roam the Sura Mountain to his heart’s content, never once thinking of taking over care of a clan.

    Now, Lasma tugged on his right hand, and he looked away from Alise, thinking things were different.

    The clan was sensitive to important ceremonies, and the moment they saw Lasma lead her son to meet the council and the spiritual leaders of the temple, they got up and started arranging the hall. Lasma led Azula to the middle of the hall. The spiritual leaders stood on each side of them while the Sura Clan council, including Magnus, made a circle around them. From there, the clan members made circles around the council, round and round, weaving an intricate web around Azula and his mother until an intricate wide circle filled the hall.

    Lasma met Azula’s gaze, then spoke loud enough for all in the hall to hear.

    “Marius Doriel has taken a journey to the afterlife. He has left behind Alise, wife to Yemin, sister to Azula, and Azula, brother to Alise and Yemin,” Lasma said.

    “I, Marius Doriel’s wife, name Azula the next chieftain. He is the one to help the clan recover after a calamity. I ask the Sura Mountain temple leaders to bless this child, make him strong, and keep him safe as he faces the adversity that awaits him.”

    “Azula is named,” Magnus’s voice boomed. “Is there any protest?”

    Azula bit his bottom lip, sure there would be someone who would raise a concern, but the hall remained quiet. When no one protested, Magnus continued.

    “The Sura Clan Council accepts Lasma Doriel’s decision,” Magnus said.

    Azula breathed in as he turned to the temple leaders. The two men dressed in deep burgundy robes, their hair cut short, walked up to Azula Doriel.

    “Everyone, please sit,” one of them said, and Azula sank to the floor, his legs crossed.

    Azula was conscious of Magnus coming to sit on his left while Kalas took up position on Azula’s right. Azula let out a soft breath as Lasma gathered his hair and pulled it into a loose ponytail. She made sure the strands were falling over his shoulders before she moved away. The lead monk sat behind him, and Magnus handed him a triangle pillow to lean on.

    “Azula, Sura Clan Chieftain, prince of the clan, are you ready to receive your blessing?”

    “Yes,” Azula said, his voice sounding strong enough.

    “Then we shall start,” the lead monk said and started a prayer. As he did so, his assisting monk wiped Azula’s back with a blessed spirit.

    Magnus and Kalas gripped Azula’s arms tight as he leaned on the triangle cushion. The first sting of the monk’s long, sharp steel needle on his skin made him gasp.

    The pain was so deep that Azula bit his bottom lip hard to keep from screaming out in agony. The monk continued his chant as he dipped the needle into a mix of ink, palm oil, and snake venom.

    The monk continued tapping a protection tattoo on Azula’s back. He worked fast, and his hands were swift with the work.

    Pain made Azula’s head muddled. He lost count of the time he sat on the floor with Magnus and Kalas gripping his arms. Each tap on his skin was more painful than the next. Somehow, amidst all the pain, his mind cleared as he realized he was now responsible for the people his father had protected all his life. The thought both scared him and inspired him.

    Closing his eyes, he listened to the monk pray and inserted his quiet request for assistance from the almighty above. The jabs on his back could have been more than three thousand. Azula hoped the pain was enough to seek guidance from the one beyond.

    “Azula, chieftain of the Sura, shall not commit evil deeds, must protect his fellow clansmen, will not get intoxicated and lose his mind, shall not lie to others, and will always do good deeds to farther the clan’s good fortune,” the lead monk said as he completed the tattoo.

    “I have inked a prayer into your back, protecting you from evil deeds against you, filling you with protection, and asking the almighty to grant you strength to fight the battles you face. May good luck always find you and good health and courage embrace you. Guardian of the Sura Clan, may the path be wide and steady.”

    Azula stilled as the monk sprayed blessed spirits on his back, adding to the sting of the tattoo. He was grateful for Magnus and Kalas, who helped him sit up and turn to thank the monks for their prayers.

    Azula pressed his palms in prayer and bowed his head down. He waited for the monk to touch his head before he sat up with Magnus’s help. Fighting back the urge to give in to pain, he took a deep breath and stood with his strength.

    “I vow to protect and to bring prosperity to all the Sura,” Azula said as he looked at the people sitting around the large hall. “Rise, my people. Let’s walk into the future together.”

    Shouts of encouragement rose as everyone stood. Magnus gripped Azula’s right arm when he started to stagger from the pain in his back.

    Juya stepped forward to greet Azula on behalf of the council. Azula fought a frown when Juya placed a gold collar on his neck and locked it with a round carnelian stone that rested between his collarbone.

    Azula took Juya’s extended right arm in a warrior’s handshake, then looked around the room, taking in all the hopeful looks directed his way.

    General Raith, look what your people have done to us. Are you happy in the capital? I hope my father’s death was worth it. Look, they now watch me with a burning hope. What should I do with it but make us stronger? What will you do when I come for answers, master of ashes?’

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