S Farrell - A Magic of Dawn

Erik was standing alone. Isolated. Ignored by both Firenzcians and Nessanticans. Somehow, Allesandra found that fitting.

Talbot glanced over toward the screen and nodded. He bowed briefly to Jan, then brushed past Archigos Karrol to ascend the dais and stand to one side of the Sun Throne. Conversation in the room failed as everyone looked at him. Faintly, Allesandra heard one of the e-teni with her start to chant and gesture. “Kraljica Allesandra ca’Vorl of the Holdings,” Talbot intoned, and the e-teni’s spell made his words boom and thunder in the hall, as if a Moitidi had spoken them. The other two e-teni were chanting now, and as the hall servants parted the curtain, they cast their own spells, surrounding Allesandra in a bath of faint golden light as she stepped out, as if she’d been caught in a moving shaft of noon sunlight. Those in the room bowed to her as one, the Archigos and teni instead favoring her with the sign of Cenzi. Talbot took to one knee as she approached.

Her heart was beating hard, her breath was too fast. Jan alone had not bowed his head. Instead, he stared at her, as she did toward him. Their gazes locked, and she hoped that he saw the affection there.

She took three steps forward, until she stood alongside the Sun Throne, but she didn’t sit, as she would have for a normal reception. Instead, she paused there, and she extended her hands toward Jan. “Hirzg,” she said. “Jan… Please…”

At the invitation, he bounded up the steps of the dais- more like a young man than a ruler, more like the child she remembered. He took her proffered hands. “Matarh,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

She’d played out this moment a hundred times in her mind, anticipating a thousand different reactions. She’d imagined him angry or sullen or terribly proper and aloof. She’d even dared to imagine a tearful reunion. This… This tugged her lips into a wide, helpless smile, and she pressed her fingers against his.

“It’s good to see you, Jan,” she said, softly enough that only he could hear her. “I mean that, my son. I should never have waited this long, and you have my sincere apology for that.”

He smiled, but there was a caution there, and a wariness in his eyes. She saw him glance at the Sun Throne. “Would it light up if I sat there?” he asked her.

“It will,” she answered. “Soon enough.” And if you have the light-teni prepare beforehand. He would learn that soon enough, too; though the Sun Throne still shone when the Kraljica or Kraljiki sat on it, that light had been but a dim spark since Kraljica Marguerite’s time, visible only in twilight darkness. It now required the aid of light-teni to be noticeable in the day. She’d also learned that the trigger for the light wasn’t herself, but the signet ring of the Kralji-the light that the famous Archigos Siwel ca’Elad had enchanted within the crystalline depths would arise whenever anyone wearing the ring sat on the throne.

He had dropped her hands, though he was still smiling-as were all of those watching the historic encounter. He was too like her; he knew the importance of this moment, knew that it would set the tone for the future. “Matarh,” he said, loudly enough that all could hear him, “the army of Firenzcia has come again to help the Holdings and the Sun Throne.”

Applause and cheers broke at that statement, the sound washing over them as they stood on the dais. They both turned as they accepted the ovation. Allesandra felt a lightness she had not felt in a long time. She saw Erik among the audience, still isolated, near the Holdings councillors and chevarittai but not with them, and well away from the Firenzcians. He applauded as loudly as the others, but his grin was smug and self-satisfied. She hated it.

She took Jan’s hand in hers, lifting them both in the air. “To a new union,” she said loudly. “Of family, and of countries.”

The applause and cheers redoubled. The light and glow in the room brightened around both of them, and if Allesandra knew that it was only an effect of the light-teni huddled in the room behind the dais, it still seemed fitting and right.

That evening, after the reception and a brief Third Call blessing by Archigos Karrol, Talbot escorted them to the private dining room within her apartments in the palais. Allesandra walked with her arm linked in Jan’s; Archigos Karrol stumped along behind with a cane and a single teni attendant and Starkkapitan ca’Damont, while Erik trailed the company by a pace.

Waiting for them in the room were Sergei and Varina. Varina was empty-armed now, having given Nico’s daughter to the care of servants for the duration.

“Kraljica! Hirzg Jan!” Sergei’s voice boomed as Talbot opened the door and stepped aside. “You don’t know how delighted I am to see the two of you together! Matarh and son, as it should be. Hirzg Jan, you certainly remember Varina ca’Pallo, A’Morce of the Numetodo… “

Varina bowed to Jan, who returned the bow, but Allesandra heard a distinct hiss of distaste from Archigos Karrol. The man muttered something Allesandra couldn’t hear to his attendant.

“Please, sit,” Allesandra told them, gesturing to the round table Talbot had set up in the room, laden with decanters and covered plates. “There are refreshments, and we’ll have dinner brought in later. Jan, if you would sit next to me…” She watched the others settle around the table: Sergei to her left hand with Varina next to him; Archigos Karrol to Jan’s right, then Starkkapitan ca’Damont. Erik sat between the Firenzcians and the Nessanticans, with Varina and ca’Damont on either side of him; she saw him glance uncomfortably at ca’Damont, who had defeated his vatarh. The Archigos’ teni attendant and Talbot took a small table to one side of the room, near the servants’ door. Allesandra waited until they’d all settled and Talbot had gestured to the wait staff to pour wine.

“This is a momentous occasion,” she said finally, lifting her glass. “I would propose a toast to the renewed Holdings, and to my son, Hirzg of Firenzcia and now A’Kralj of the Holdings.”

“And to victory over the Tehuantin,” Sergei added.

Allesandra nodded. “To the Holdings, and to victory.” The phrase was echoed around the table, though Jan only lifted his glass with a smile, without saying anything.

“Kraljica, I appreciate the hospitality you’ve shown us,” Archigos Karrol said, though the expression on his face belied the words. “But the work of the Faith awaits me. I should go to the Old Temple and see what the vile Morellis have done. And I would like Nico Morel given over to me tonight, so that I may immediately place the judgment of the Faith on him.”

“So you may take his hands and tongue, you mean?” Allesandra asked the man, and Varina gasped. She stared at Allesandra, as if afraid that Allesandra would hand Nico over despite her promise. “So you may then execute him?”

The Archigos sniffed. “Indeed. Morel has placed this fate on himself, Kraljica. It’s not my doing. I will, of course, take hands and tongue publicly, in the Temple Square, so that everyone may see what happens to heretics who defy the Faith.” He glanced at Varina as he said the last.

“I’m afraid, Archigos, that I have changed Nico Morel’s fate, at the A’Morce Numetodo’s request,” Allesandra answered. “Nico Morel currently resides in the Bastida, and he will remain there at my pleasure.”

Karrol’s head turned toward Allesandra, like a turtle looking sideways. Both his hands were on the table, as if he were trying to decide whether to stand. Across the room, she saw his attendant start to rise; Talbot placed his hand on the young man’s arm, shaking his head. “How strange that a Numetodo unbeliever would be concerned with Morel’s life, since if Morel had his way, she would be in the Bastida or worse herself. But in any case, Nico Morel is the Faith’s business, not the crown’s or the Numetodo’s,” Karrol declared. “This is a matter of religion, not of state.”