His Inheritance… but that meant…
He turned to look out the balcony doors so quickly he cricked his neck. He stumbled forward, breath coming in short, surging pants. The balcony looked out toward the south… toward the Seventh Principality.
Each of the Children ruled a separate part of the Empire, which as a whole consisted of seven provinces that had once been nothing more than uncharted territory inhabited by savages. When the Empress had arrived from across the ocean, she had expanded her territory one province at a time, using fire and sword. The original inhabitants were quickly dealt with, and those that foolishly chose to fight instead of accepting the Empress as their rightful ruler and the embodiment of the Gods were killed. For nearly one thousand years the rule of the Empress had brought peace to the provinces, all but the Seventh, which was the final resistant stronghold of those who called themselves the Exiled Kindred.
When the Empress had crossed the sea, she had brought with her seven talismans of power. She had kept them with her during her fight against the Kindred, but a time came when the rebels infiltrated her government, sowing the seeds of unrest and dissent across the land. The provinces began to suffer riot, famine, and plague, spread by the Exiled Kindred.
And so, five hundred years after her rule began, the Empress bore a son, the first Son of the Empress, Prince Rikard, who inherited the most powerful of the Talismans, making him the Prince of Lions. Wherever he went, he turned people to the cause of the Empire, shining like a bright light in the eyes of the lost, a safe harbor for those who had been unsure which side to choose. He drove the rebels from the Empire, and then took up residence in Tyne, the most prosperous of the Provinces, and was named Lord Commander of the Armies of the Empire.
Each of the Children born and claimed thereafter was given one of the Talismans. Many children were born, but only six more, the Prince of Ravens included, were claimed as true Children of the Empress, embodying those virtues that She found most important. Each Child, at a certain point in their life, was given a task to complete to show their Mother they were ready to rule alongside Her.
This task, and the rewards that came from it, was called their Inheritance.
It was well and widely known that the Prince of Ravens’ Inheritance was the Seventh Principality, the province furthest to the south, and that his task would be to wipe out the remainder of the Exiled Kindred for the Glory of the Empire.
Was this why Mother had been so harsh? To prepare him to receive his Inheritance?
Perhaps I will see sunlight sooner than I’d hoped.
Chapter Two: Summoned
The Prince dressed hurriedly in the best robes he owned, midnight black like all his clothing, but with gold scrollwork across the shoulders and down the arms. He placed on his head the circlet that signified his position as the Prince of Ravens, a small frontless crown made of two curving golden wings set with veins of onyx and jet. He glanced at himself quickly in a looking glass, grateful that he’d washed and shaved barely an hour earlier, and then left his rooms quickly, his heavy robes swirling about him. Outside his room, the two black-clothed Guardians who watched over him day and night fell seamlessly into step behind him, following him as silently and swiftly as shadows, despite the fact they were both over seven feet tall.
As he moved down the hall, he passed tapestries depicting famous battles and deeds of the Empress and Her Children. His body felt oddly light; a weight seemed to have fallen off his shoulders now that he finally had something to do. He had never been very good at waiting around while events unfolded.
He kept reaching down to his left hip to clutch the hilt of a sword that wasn’t there. He’d been given it at the age of ten, and over the years it had become as much a part of him as an arm or a leg. A week ago, it had been brutally amputated.
Only those with names carried weapons.
But that too would soon be remedied. He was to receive his Inheritance. Maybe the next time he walked down this corridor it would be past a tapestry of him. The thought made him smile, but in a rueful way that lacked pleasure.
He rounded a corner, and as he did a young woman walked out of a room in front of him in a swirl of perfume and fine red silks. She turned and gave a smallgasp of surprise when she saw him standing right in front of her. The Prince moved to brush past her, but stopped when he realized who it was.
Leah Monsunne was the daughter of one of the Most High. The Monsunne family was on the rise in the politics of the palace, and Leah had been introduced to the Prince a little over a week before in the hopes that he would take a liking to her and bestow favor. The Prince, highly skeptical when Geofred had first arranged the meeting, had found himself struck embarrassingly dumb by her beauty, and he had been anxious to meet with her again ever since. She was the most stunning woman he had ever met, with long chestnut hair, a figure that filled out anything she wore, and a soft mouth that was quick to laugh at his dry and sarcastic humor that so often turned others away.
“Lady Monsunne,” the Prince said, not having to fake the sudden stirring of happiness he felt at seeing her.
The lady clutched a hand to her chest; her eyes were as wide as if she’d seen a ghost. The Prince did his best not to look down at what that hand was clutching.
“Are you well, lady? I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
When she didn’t respond, he repeated himself more slowly.
“Are you well, lady?”
He reached out a hand, concerned that she looked none too steady.
“My Prince,” she said, dropping a hasty curtsy and lowering her eyes. As a member of the Most High, she was allowed in his presence, but not allowed to look him in the eye unless permitted. He had given her permission.
“My Lady, why won’t you look at me?”
His bluntness seemed to put her off even more, as if his acknowledgment of her actions made them shameful. She didn’t look up, but instead dropped into another curtsy.
“I’m so sorry, my Prince, but I am on the way to an appointment with my father. It is an emergency. May I go?”
“Of—of course,” he responded. It wasn’t like him to stammer, and normally he would have wondered over his tripping tongue, but now he could only watch, dumbfounded, as the young woman turned and all but ran from him.
He knew she hadn’t been telling the truth; he didn’t need Symanta’s Snake Talisman to tell him that. A sudden foreboding took hold of him as he watched her turn a corner and disappear.
