28

City of Vialthor, Vialthor Empire

Continent of Miranda

The clouds thinned as Vyman crossed into South Miranda, and below him the land opened into the vast expanse of Vialthor Palace, built in a great sweeping U, its two wings stretched out like arms around a courtyard of white stone and before its gates, two rivers met in a wide, glittering confluence, their waters braided together for one brief stretch before continuing on as one, as though the palace itself had been built at the exact point the world had chosen to join two things into something greater.

Vyman dropped through the thinning cloud in a long spiral and came to land on the balcony of the largest chamber in the south wing, talons found stone with barely a sound and wings folded shut behind him like a verdict was finally delivered.

The chamber door creaked open, and Cessa, Human woman twenty of age, crossed the room swiftly to reach the balcony where Vyman waited. She unfastened the letter bound to his leg with quick, careful fingers, and the instant it was free, the great eagle spread his wings and was gone.

She smiled at him, and carried the letter inside, to where Princess Naervyn sat bent over a scatter of reports. Cessa set it down before her and took three steps back.

Naervyn's green eyes dropped to the seal pressed into the wax, a quill laid across Bialvy leaf, and her lips, pink as crushed plum, parted around the words. "Aethoria Central University."

She broke the seal and unfolded the letter; her eyes moved quickly down the page until they stopped on the very first name at the top of the list and the letter trembled in her grip. Whether from the wind or from the glow shimmering behind her own eyes.

Her eyes lifted and found Cessa across the room. Cessa didn't wait to be told, she bowed low and was through the chamber door before Naervyn had even risen from her chair.

Words traveled faster than she walked and by the time Naervyn reached the second hall, the tension set every shoulder and jaw along her path.

Cessa followed a few paces back, at a safe distance to avoid whatever mood had wrapped itself around her mistress this morning. She'd learned the lesson from other people's mistakes and hadn't forgotten since.

Naervyn passed beneath the high arch into the court proper, she let her eyes drop just once to the throne, the sigil was carved deep in Manabu wood, a single sword driven straight through eleven crowns. The seat that had never once been offered to her and never would be while her brother still breathed, she walked past it without breaking stride, the throne was beneath her notice and not the thing she measured every step against.

The doors to her father's chamber were pushed open exactly when she reached, her pace never stopped, never slowed, everything simply adjusted around her.

The two attendants stationed just inside stepped back before she'd fully crossed the threshold, even the light seemed to arrange itself differently once she entered or maybe it was only that no one dared stand where it might fall wrong across her path.

Emperor Norvaente Vialthor, Human man, sixty of age, didn't look up, the paper held his attention. Lord Saevon Vialthor, Human man of seven and fifty, looked at her and prayed for whoever was in her mind for the look she carried.

Naervyn sat across from her father as Cessa placed the letter on the table in front of him. Norvaente glanced at the letter, then at Naervyn, and unrolled the scroll, but before he could start reading, Naervyn spoke.

"Ryska is in Aethoria."

"How is that possible?" Norvaente read the letter in one go.

Saevon took the letter from his hand, read it, then glanced at her before looking at the king.

"I want her here, Papa," said Naervyn.

"Charter wouldn't allow it," said Saevon.

"That charter and that old man," she put the one leg on other and leaned back against the chair. "We will see how unyielding the charter truly is."

“You look as though you have already made a decision," said Norvaente.

“You know me well," a smile appeared on her face.

“I built half my reign on knowing my children well; it has served me better than most of my treaties," Norvaente put both his elbow on table. “You wish to handle it yourself, I presume,” Norvaente regarded her for a moment. “Very well, handle it and see that it does not reach the court.”

“It will not come to that, Father.”

“See that it does not,” he warned, and it was not soft at all.

Naervyn understood the precise and narrow place where her father’s indulgence of his children ended and his judgement as a king began. He would give her room, but he would not give her cover for failure.

She rose from her seat with letter in her hand walked back toward her study, the corridor felt longer than it was, everyone fell silent, Cessa kept same distance and walked behind her.

In her study, Naervyn sat and drew a fresh sheet toward her.

To the Embassy of Morvaeth at Aldaene,

You are to compile a complete accounting of Kumari Ryska Aen of House Aen, a Vianian national presently enrolled at Aethoria Central University. Morvaeth requires to know precisely when she arrived at Aethoria, by what means she traveled there, and who accompanied her, verified rather than assumed.

This inquiry is made strictly in the interest of Morvaeth's ongoing war accounting, as pertains to the movement and standing of former enemy bloodlines under continued observation. It is, as the office is well aware, the very reason Morvaeth's presence at Aldaene exists at all, and the discharge of this duty admits no delay and no discretion on your part as to what is or is not worth reporting.

See to it that the accounting is thorough and accurate.

By Kumari Naervyn Vialthor,

Princess of House Vialthor, Head of Morvaeth

Naervyn sealed it, rose and stepped out onto the balcony and the letter left with Vialthor's eagle that Cessa had kept ready already.

She spread both hands in opposite directions upon the railing and looked out towards the north, her chin remained perpetually raised, even in empty rooms where no one watched. Humility was a lesson she had never been taught and saw no reason to learn now.

She had already decided, before it ever left her hand, exactly what she meant to do with whatever answer came back and exactly what she meant to do if no answer came back at all.

She believed that the realm owed her everything it possessed, but fate had decided against it. She was not the rightful heir to the Vialthor throne. Her brother, Crown Prince Daevosky, held that place by the simple accident of having been born two years before her, and would go on holding it for as long as he continued to breathe, a state of affair Naervyn found tedious.

To resent a thing required believing it could not be changed and Naervyn did not believe that of anything.