“It is my most sincere hope that you all will join us in celebration, now and over the next six months, as we prepare to join in union in the Cathedral of the Mother.”
The room remained silent. The Emperor stared out at the crowd for another long moment before he stepped back and assumed his seat in the gilded throne tufted in blue velvet. Fiera, however, remained.
She swung her gaze across the room, a hand resting on the hilt of her crystal sword.
“Lords and Ladies of Mhashan,” she began in Mhashanese. The Emperor didn’t have much of a reaction, which told Vi that Tiberus was confident in what she was going to say. “I was your princess. More than that—I was your sworn protector. My father appointed me the head of the Knights of Jadar so that I may keep you all safe.
“I still hold that duty dear to my heart. I know you might not always understand how, but I fight for you. I will continue to fight for you until my dying breath. However, fate guides us to unexpected places. I no longer defend you on the field, but from a throne—a throne where I know I will find happiness. I am happy. Join me in that, my kin. Eternal flame.”
Fiera finished with the common Western colloquialism—fiarum evantes. The term was both greeting and farewell, meant to inspire good will.
“Guide us through the night.”Kotun un nox,Vi said aloud, when no one else would.
Others picked up the sentiment, echoing her. The words rippled through the crowd. One by one, they uttered the expression as a form of solidarity with their once princess and now future empress.
Fiera sat on her throne. As soon as she was settled, minstrels playing harps and lutes picked up a merry tune set to the fast beat of a drum. It was jarring to the very clearly uncomfortable atmosphere. But someone had planned for this, and servants passed wine around on trays. The nobles eagerly grabbed for the goblets, searching for anything to quench the awkward feeling that hung in the air.
Richard took one more long look at Fiera and Tiberus before turning, starting eagerly toward a servant passing drinks. Vi took a hasty step, falling into place at his side.
“I need a drink,” he muttered. “Something stronger than the stuff they’re serving here… but this is a start.” He lifted a goblet off a tray but Vi refused it when he offered. She fussed with the skirt of her gown instead.
“Have faith, Richard Le’Dan. The South isn’t all bad,” Vi encouraged lightly with a pat on his chest. Lucky for her, he too wore a military-style jacket with pockets over both pectorals—one of which now held the ring Vi had lifted from the Le’Dan store. Taavin had cautioned her not to keep it beyond tonight. This was a much better solution than casting it in some dark corner. “You might even learn to like it someday.”
Before he could retort, she walked away, her mission with him finished. One by one, men and women were lining up to pay respects to the Emperor. Vi stepped into the line and waited her turn.
“Emperor Tiberus Solaris,” she said in Southern Common when it was her turn. “Lady Fiera Ci’Dan.” Vi switched deftly to Mhashanese to address the princess. “It is my honor to come before you both and wish you well.” Vi dropped to a knee.
“And what family do you hail from?” Tiberus asked. All of the other nobles had made it a point to very clearly state who they were when they swore their allegiance. Someone in the shadows was no doubt keeping a tally of which families weren’t here.
“I have no family, your grace.” Some murmurs. Vi could see movement from the corners of her eyes and wondered if the guards were already coming for her now that she’d identified herself as the person who did not belong among all the members of the Western court. “But I do come bearing an engagement gift.”
“A gift?” Fiera asked, eyes locked with Vi’s and filled with awareness.The question stopped short the guards who had just about surrounded Vi. The room was silent once more.
“Fiera Ci’Dan, you will bear a son.” Vi pitched her voice as ominously and with as much gravity as possible. “He will have your flames, and sit on the throne of his father.”
A small smile worked its way onto Fiera’s lips as a guard approached, whispering in the Emperor’s ear. Tiberus looked at Vi with renewed focus.
Vi opened her mouth to speak again, but was interrupted.
“Kind words, indeed,” the Emperor said lightly. “A shame you felt the need to lie to say them. You are under arrest for masquerading as a member of the house Le’Dan. Guards, please take her to the dungeons. We shall sort out what to do with her later.”
Vi stood, offering her elbows to the guards who were already reaching for them. She didn’t struggle or try to get away. Instead, she walked like a princess, all the way out of the party and into the depths of Norin’s castle.
They locked her in a cell without fanfare and promptly left. Vi waited for their footsteps to disappear down the hall. Fiera knew she was here.
If she waited, the princess would eventually find a way to get to her. But Richard’s claim that Fiera was being kept under tight watch lingered—highlighting the advice Taavin had given her.
The party will be depressing for Fiera. She’ll retreat to her rose garden.
“Durroe sallvas tempre. Juth calt.” Vi did away with the lock on the cell in the same manner as she had broken into the storefronts.
She went down the long hall that lined this wing of cells, magic gathered under her fingers. The one other prisoner was lying on his cot, back to her, and didn’t stir as she passed—her footsteps completely silenced by her magic. One end of the hall stretched deeper into the dungeons; the other, where she’d entered from, was hazy with light. Vi glanced around the corner to find the guard on duty slumped in his chair, much as he had been when she’d entered.
Vi closed her eyes, debating what chant to use. There was one bit of Lightspinning she had yet to try. Should she risk a new piece of chanting, or try to make herself invisible while moving through a room? Invisibility in motion was nearly impossible; the choice practically made itself.
“Loft not,” Vi breathed, her own eyes feeling heavy and fluttering closed for a long moment.Notwas a subset ofloft—to sleep—and in the same family asdorh—to immobilize. The word was warm on her tongue and the glyph that haloed over the guard’s head settled on his shoulders like sunset.
He let out a large snore and Vi crept though the room, still keeping the sounds of her footsteps silent. As soon as she was down the hall and out of earshot from the now slumbering guard, Vi let go of both glyphs and immediately whispered a few more words to step into the skin of one of the guards who had escorted her to the prison. With the man’s face, she strolled easily through the halls and stairwells.
