Michael Sullivan: Nyphron rising

The fact that no one ever saw the empress ignited its own set of speculations. Everyone knew she was the heir of the original legendary Emperor Novron and therefore a child of the god Maribor. This was proven when only she was able to slay the beast that slaughtered dozens of Elan's greatest knights. The fact that she was previously a farm girl from a small village confirmed that in the eyes of Maribor all were equal. Rumors concluded that she ascended to the state of a spiritual being. It was believed that only the regents and her personal secretary ever stood in her divine presence. That must be who the noblewoman was. The lady with the sour face and perfect speech was the Imperial Secretary to the Empress.

They soon had an array of the best food they could muster in a short time laid out on the table. Knob the baker and Leif the butcher disputed the placement of dishes, each wanting their wares in the center. "Cora," Ibis said, "put your pretty cake of cheese in the middle." This brought a smile and blush to the dairymaid's face and scowls from Leif and Knob.

Being a scullion, Amilia had no more part to play and returned to her dishes. Edith was chatting excitedly in the corner near the stack of oak kegs with the tapster and the cupbearer, and everyone was straightening their outfits and running fingers through their hair. Nipper was still sweeping when the lady returned. Once more, everyone stopped. She was leading a thin young girl by the wrist.

"Sit down," Lady Constance ordered in her brisk tone.

Everyone peered past the two women, trying to catch the first glimpse of their god-queen. Two well-armored guards emerged and took up positions on either side of the table. But no one else appeared.

Where is the empress?

"Modina, I said sit down," Lady Constance repeated.

Shock rippled through Amilia.

Modina? This waif of a child is the empress?

The girl did not appear to hear Lady Constance and stood limp with a blank expression. She looked to be a teenager, delicate and deathly thin. Once she might have been pretty, but what remained was an appalling sight. The girl's face was white as bone, her skin thin and stretched, revealing the detailed outline of her skull beneath. Her ragged blonde hair fell across her face. She wore only a thin white smock which added to the girl's ghostly appearance.

Lady Constance sighed and forced the girl into one of the chairs at the baker's table. Like a doll, the girl allowed herself to be moved. She said nothing and her eyes stared blankly.

"Place the napkin in your lap this way." Lady Constance carefully opened and laid the linen with deliberate movements. She waited, glaring at the empress who sat oblivious. "As empress, you will never serve yourself," Lady Constance went on. "You will wait as your servants fill your plate." Lady Constance looked around with irritation when her eyes found Amilia. "You-come here," she ordered. "Serve her eminence."

Amilia dropped the brush in the basin and, wiping her hands on her smock, rushed forward. She wanted to mention she had no experience with serving, but said nothing. Instead she focused on recalling the times she watched Leif cutting meat. Taking up the tongs and a knife she tried her best to imitate him. Leif always made it look effortless, but Amilia's fingers betrayed her and she fumbled miserably, managing only to place a few shredded bits of lamb on the girl's plate.

"Bread," Lady Constance snapped the word like a whip and Amilia sliced into the long twisted loaf, nearly cutting herself in the process.

"Now eat."

For a brief moment, Amilia thought this was another order for her and reached out in response. She caught herself and stood motionless, not certain if she was free to return to her dishes.

"Eat, I said." The Imperial Secretary glared at the girl who continued to stare blankly at the far wall.

"EAT DAMN YOU!" Lady Constance bellowed and everyone in the kitchen, including Edith Mon and Ibis Thinly jumped. She pounded the baker's table with her fist, knocking over the stemware and bouncing the knives against the plates. "EAT!" Lady Constance repeated and slapped the girl across the face. Her skin-wrapped skull rocked with the blow and came to rest on its own. The girl did not wince. She merely continued her stare, this time at a new wall.

In a fit of rage, the Imperial Secretary rose, knocking over her chair. She took one of the pieces of meat and tried to force it into the girl's mouth.

"What is going on?"

Lady Constance froze at the sound of the voice. An old white-haired man descended the steps into the scullery, his elegant purple robe and black cape looking out of place in the hot, messy kitchen. Amilia recognized Regent Saldur immediately.

"What in the world…" Saldur began, as he approached the table. He looked at the girl, then at the kitchen staff, and finally at Lady Constance, who at some point had dropped the meat. "What were you thinking…bringing her down here?"

"I-I thought if-"

Saldur held up his hand, silencing her, then slowly squeezed it into a fist. He clenched his jaw and drew a deep breath through his sharp nose. Once more, he focused on the girl. "Look at her. You were supposed to educate and train her. She's worse than ever!"

"I-I tried, but-"

"Shut up!" the regent snapped, still holding up his fist. No one in the kitchen moved. The only sound was the faint crackle of the fire in the ovens and the bubbling of broth in a pot. "If this is the result of an expert, we may as well try an amateur. They couldn't possibly do worse." The regent pointed at Amilia. "You! Congratulations, you are now the Imperial Secretary to the Empress." Turning his attention back to Lady Constance, he said, "And as for you-your services are no longer required. Guards, remove her ladyship."

Amilia saw Lady Constance falter. Her perfect posture evaporated as she cowered and walked backward, nearly falling over the upended chair. "No! Please, no," she cried as a palace guard gripped her arm and pulled her toward the back door. Another guard took her remaining arm. She grew frantic, pleading and struggling as they dragged her out.

Amilia stood frozen in place holding the meat tongs and carving knife, trying to remember how to breathe. Once the pleas of Lady Constance faded, Regent Saldur turned to her, his face flushed red, his teeth revealed behind taunt lips. "Don't fail me," he told her and returned up the stairs, his cape whirling behind him.

Amilia looked back at the girl who continued to stare at the wall.

The mystery of why no one saw the empress was solved when a soldier escorted the girls to Modina's room. Amilia expected to travel to the eastern keep, home of the regents' offices and the royal residence. To her surprise, the guard remained on the service side and headed for a curved stair across from the laundry. Chambermaids used this stairwell to service rooms on the upper floors. But here, they went down.

Amilia did not question the guard, her thoughts preoccupied with the sword that hung at his side. His dark eyes were embedded in a stone face, and the top of her head reached the bottom of his chin. Each of his hands was the size of two of hers. He was not one of the guards that took Lady Constance away but Amilia knew he would not hesitate when the time came.

The air turned cool and damp as they descended into darkness cut only by three mounted lanterns. The last dripped wax from an unhinged faceplate. At the bottom of the stairs, a wooden door stood open leading to a tiny corridor with more doors on either side. In one room Amilia spotted several casks and a rack of bottles dressed in packs of straw. Large locks sealed two others and the third door stood open, revealing a small stone room empty except for a pile of straw and a wooden bucket. When they reached it, the soldier stood to one side, his back to the wall.