Michael Sullivan - Nyphron rising

"Her eminence won't be attending the banquet, sir. She never dines in public."

"Never?"

"I am afraid not, sir."

"I see."

The earl paused in thought as Amilia rapidly drummed the tips of her fingers together. "If you please, sir, I do need to be seeing about the empress."

"Of course, forgive me for taking up your valuable time. Still if you should perhaps mention me to her eminence and let her know I would very much like to visit with her."

"I will, your lordship. Now, if you will excuse me."

Amilia hurried back and found that the seamstress had finished the collar. It was tall and did indeed keep her chin up, although it looked horribly uncomfortable. Modina, of course, didn't seem to care. The cobbler, however, was still working on her shoe.

"What's going on here?" she asked.

"The new heel he put on was taller than the other," Nimbus told her. "He tried to resize, but in his haste he overcompensated and now it is shorter."

Amilia turned to Anna, "How long do we have?"

"About fifteen minutes," she replied gloomily.

"What about the headdress? I don't see it."

"It wasn't in the hall, or the bedroom, milady."

Anna's face drained of color. "Oh, dear Maribor forgive me. I forgot all about it!"

"You forgot? Nimbus!"

"Yes, milady?"

"Run to the milliner and fetch the headdress, and when I say run, I mean sprint do you hear me?"

"At once, milady, but I don't know where the milliner shop is."

"Get a page to escort you."

"The pages are all busy with the ceremony."

"I don't care! Grab one at sword point if necessary. Find one who knows the way and tell him it is by order of the empress and don't let anyone stop you, now move!"

"Anna!" Amilia shouted.

"Yes, my lady." The maid was trembling in tears. "I am so sorry, my lady, truly I am."

"We don't have time for apologies or tears. Go to the empress' bedroom and fetch her day shoes. She'll have to wear them instead. Do it now!"

Amilia slammed the door behind them and gave it a solid kick in frustration. She leaned her forehead against the oak as she concentrated on calming down. The gown would cover the shoes. No one would know the difference. The headdress was another matter. They worked on it for weeks and the regents would notice its absence. The milliner's shop was out in the city proper, and she had left it to Anna to pick it up. She could really only blame herself. She should have asked about it earlier and was furious at her incompetence. She kicked the door once more then turned around and slumped to the floor, her gown ballooning about her.

The ceremony began in minutes but there was still time. Modina's speech was last and Amilia was certain she would have at least another twenty, perhaps even thirty, minutes while the others addressed the crowd. Across from her, Modina sat stiff and straight in her royal gown of white and gold, her long neck held high by the new collar. There was something different about Modina she was watching Amilia with interest. She was actually studying her.

"Are you going to be alright?" she asked the empress.

Immediately the light in her eyes vanished and they fell out of focus once more.

Amilia sighed.

Regent Ethelred spoke on the colorfully bunted balcony for nearly an hour, though Amilia hardly heard a word of it. Something about the grandness and might of the New Empire; how Maribor ordained it and how it would unite all of humanity again as it once had. He spoke of the Empire's military successes in the north and the bloodless annexation of Alburn and Dunmore. He followed this with the news of an expected surplus in wheat and barley and an end to the elven problem. They would no longer be allowed to roam free and instead of turning them into useless slaves they would simply disappear. The Empire was gathering wayward elves from all over the realm. How they would be disposed of he did not say. The massive crowd below cheered their approval and their combined voices roared.

Amilia sat in the staging room, her arms wrapped about her waist. She could not even pace now. The empress herself appeared unconcerned by the approaching presentation and sat calmly as ever in her shimmering gown and massive headdress that mimicked a fanning peacock.

Nimbus managed excellent time reaching the milliner, although he apparently terrified a young page, having brandished his rapier at the lad. They also had good fortune in that the ceremony started late due to a last-minute dispute as to the order of speakers. Amilia managed to secure the headdress on Modina just minutes before the first speech.

The Chancellor spoke first, then Ethelred and finally Saldur. With each word, Amilia felt it harder and harder to breathe. Finally, Ethelred's speech concluded and Saldur stepped forward for the formal introduction. The crowd hushed, as they knew the expected moment was at hand.

"Nearly a thousand years have passed since the breaking of the great Empire of Novron," he told the multitude below. "We stand here today as witnesses to the enduring power of Maribor and his promise to Novron that his seed will reign forever. Neither treachery nor time can break this sacred covenant. Allow me to introduce to you proof of this. Here now welcome the once simple farm maid, the slayer of the elven beast, the Heir of Novron, the High Priestess of the Nyphron Church, her most serene and Royal Grand Imperial Majesty, the Empress Modina Novronian!"

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Amilia could feel the vibration of their voices even where she sat. She looked at Modina, pleading and hopeful. The empress' face was calm as she stood up straight and gracefully walked forward, the train of her dress trailing behind her.

When she stepped upon the balcony-when the people finally saw her face-the noise of the crowd did the impossible. It exploded. The unimaginably boisterous cheering was deafening, like a continuous roll of thunder that vibrated the very stone of the castle. It went on and on and Amilia wondered if it would ever stop.

In the face of the tumult surely Modina could not endure. What effect would this have on her fragile countenance? Amilia wished Saldur had allowed her to use the rope or accompany her onto the balcony. Amilia's only consolation was knowing that Modina was likely frozen. Her mind retreating to that dark place she had so long lived in, the place she crawled to hide from the world.

Amilia prayed the crowd would quiet. She hoped Ethelred or Saldur would do something to silence them, but neither moved and the crowd continued to roar with no end in sight. Then something unexpected happened. Modina slowly raised her hands, making a gentle quieting motion, and almost immediately the crowd fell silent. Amilia could not believe her eyes.

"My beloved and cherished loyal subjects," she spoke with a loud, clear, almost musical voice that Amilia had not heard at practice. "It is wonderful to finally meet you."

The crowd roared anew even louder than before. Modina allowed them to cheer for a full minute before raising her hands and silencing them again.

"As some of you may have heard, I have not been well. The battle with Rufus' Bane left me weakened, but with the help of my closest friend, the Grand Imperial Secretary Lady Amilia of Tarin Vale, I am feeling much better."

Amilia stopped breathing at the sound of her name. That was not in the speech.

"I owe Amilia the greatest debt of gratitude for her efforts on my behalf, for I should not be here at all if not for her strength, wisdom, and kindness."

Amilia closed her eyes and cringed.

"While I am feeling better, I am still easily exhausted and I must keep my strength in order to devote it to ensuring our defense against invaders, a bountiful harvest, and our return to the glory and prosperity that was Novron's Empire," she finished with an elaborate wave of her hand, turned, and left the balcony with elegant grace and poise.