Post by Meraiah on Mar 21, 2022 12:13:01 GMT -5
The Turksian Isles had fallen. The Turksian Isles had fallen, just like Asteria before it, and Perre before Asteria, and... ah, gods, it was so hard to follow the causal chain to its very beginning. (Did it have one, even? If so, it had been forged long, long before Sereia had taken her first breath; earlier than what written records could reach, and perhaps even earlier than the stars appeared in the sky. Something about 'the cyclical nature of violence,' she guessed.)
Either way, Sereia found herself weary. Just... conquering a country demanded a surprising amount of paperwork, you know? (It did, and it didn't. It did, in the sense that the emperor required it; the territories Leveria had snatched had to be evaluated and 'put to work,' as one of the clerks she hated with a burning passion had put it. It didn't, in the sense that she always could have outsourced the duty to someone else. Still, Sereia rarely did that. The paperwork was there for her, real in a way her thoughts weren't, and she could get lost in the whisperings of the quill gliding over parchments easily. The candlelight irritated her eyes, yes, but gazing at the numbers was still easier than looking at--)
Sereia could have jumped out of her skin right here and there, but, thankfully, Evrian didn't. (Evrian's arm never wavered, either. Especially not his sword arm. It was a good thing that she had him, she supposed; just like it was a good thing that she didn't really have herself. In all regards, Sereia had proved to be too much trouble.)
The intruder was barely a man, soft-cheeked and wide-eyed, and so she relaxed her shoulders. Not an assassin this time, huh. (It wasn't that she didn't deserve that, mind you. One day, a sharp blade would emerge from the darkness, and cut her heart out of her chest before she could utter so much as 'sorry'. That was fine, too. One who sowed death could only really expect death in return, because nothing else ever grew from ashes. And, really, hadn't she drowned enough cities in those? Enough to... no, nevermind. Nevermind anything. It was too late to mind, and so she just didn't.)
"Yes?" the general raised her dark eyebrow. "Is there anything you need?"
"The emperor requests your presence."
"Right now?"
The boy nodded, and Sereia... well, Sereia could only guess what the man might want in the dead of the night, with half the realm asleep. One thing was certain, though; you didn't say 'no' to an emperor.
***
The only room more lavish than the throne room was the emperor's own chamber, and, as always, Sereia felt painfully out of place. How could she not? It was like... like standing before the gates of the academy all over again, and wondering whether she'd be good enough. Except, you know, this time, 'not being good enough' likely translated to having her head chopped off. After all, the emperor did have his standards.
"Evrian, my friend," the man gave her a practiced smile. (Sometimes, she wondered just how honest it was. At other times, she was too wise to walk down that path.) "Sit down. There are matters we need to discuss. They are matters of great importance, and I believe you should hear the news first."
Another war, then? It wasn't often that the emperor invited her for a game of chess, or for anything that didn't relate to their war efforts. Still, Sereia had kind of... dared to hope that their armies would be given at least some time to rest? Perhaps in vain, as it turned out.
"If I may, Your Highness," she began, knowing how bad idea of an idea it was and yet unable to stop herself, "it is my opinion that our soldiers need to recuperate before we make them march again. The last victory wasn't an easy one."
Bracing herself for whatever consequences may come, Sereia raised her gaze, and... found the man smiling? Alright, that was actually more unnerving than an outburst would have been. (The strongest storms, they said, came unannounced.)
"I didn't invite you to argue with me, but yes, I actually happen to agree with you. What the empire needs now is a celebration."
"...a celebration?" Sereia repeated, uncomprehending. What, did he hope for her to arrange the flowers? Still better than riding in one of those dreadful parades, with all the eyes glued on her, but only marginally so. Regardless, this could have been worse. "I suppose, Your Highness. Do you, uh, require any assistance with that?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. You're going to help with the main event." The emperor sniffed at his wine, watched the liquid glint in the candlelight, and, finally, took a sip. (For some reason, it appeared as if he enjoyed taking his sweet time. Maybe she was just seeing things, though?) "You, Evrian, will get married."
For a moment, Sereia's brain refused to process the statement. Just, hahaha! Funny how easily the ears could deceive you, huh?
It took her another moment to realize that, no, she'd heard exactly right, and many more moments for her to come close to accepting it. (Marred. Married, married, married. The word echoed in her head, over and over, and trying to grasp all the implications was like catching water with her bare hands. Yeah, sure, why not! ...come to think of it, comparing it to drowning would have been more apt.)
"Married? Me? But why?"
"The princess of The Turksian Isles needs a husband loyal to the empire, and you have served faithfully enough to earn the privilege. You will know what to do with those heathens, I'm sure."
"But..."
A wrong choice, perhaps the wrong choice, and Sereia knew it the second the fury reached his eyes. (It was just a tiny shard of it, inserted in his otherwise stony face, but even that was sharp enough to cut an artery. Ever wondered why he used a lion in his seal? Wake his anger, and you'd see.)
"But? I don't think you understood me, Evrian. I wasn't asking."
"...no, Your Highness. You were not. I, uh, am honored."
After all, you didn't say 'no' to an emperor. And, for the record? This could not have been worse.
***
After considerable effort, Sereia was at least able to convince the servants to leave her alone. She would dress herself on her own, she'd said; there had been protests, but a death glare or two was enough to shut those down before they could truly grow into a problem. And, hey, the general even managed to wrap herself into the terrible white-golden toga they'd chosen for her! The last of my grand victories, I suppose. At least I'll get to walk to the slaughterhouse on my own terms. (She was staring at herself in the mirror, but the man who stared back at her... no, she didn't recognize him. Somehow, he looked both ten years older and too young for this at the same time.) Maybe it won't be so bad? Maybe the princess will appreciate being married to... Yeah, the general didn't even bother finishing that thought. Truly, the man who had helped to bring her country to its knees must have been a dream match!
"General Evrian? The time has come."
Of course. Of course that it had! Steeling herself, Sereia took the first step into the temple... and into her future as well.
Either way, Sereia found herself weary. Just... conquering a country demanded a surprising amount of paperwork, you know? (It did, and it didn't. It did, in the sense that the emperor required it; the territories Leveria had snatched had to be evaluated and 'put to work,' as one of the clerks she hated with a burning passion had put it. It didn't, in the sense that she always could have outsourced the duty to someone else. Still, Sereia rarely did that. The paperwork was there for her, real in a way her thoughts weren't, and she could get lost in the whisperings of the quill gliding over parchments easily. The candlelight irritated her eyes, yes, but gazing at the numbers was still easier than looking at--)
Sereia could have jumped out of her skin right here and there, but, thankfully, Evrian didn't. (Evrian's arm never wavered, either. Especially not his sword arm. It was a good thing that she had him, she supposed; just like it was a good thing that she didn't really have herself. In all regards, Sereia had proved to be too much trouble.)
The intruder was barely a man, soft-cheeked and wide-eyed, and so she relaxed her shoulders. Not an assassin this time, huh. (It wasn't that she didn't deserve that, mind you. One day, a sharp blade would emerge from the darkness, and cut her heart out of her chest before she could utter so much as 'sorry'. That was fine, too. One who sowed death could only really expect death in return, because nothing else ever grew from ashes. And, really, hadn't she drowned enough cities in those? Enough to... no, nevermind. Nevermind anything. It was too late to mind, and so she just didn't.)
"Yes?" the general raised her dark eyebrow. "Is there anything you need?"
"The emperor requests your presence."
"Right now?"
The boy nodded, and Sereia... well, Sereia could only guess what the man might want in the dead of the night, with half the realm asleep. One thing was certain, though; you didn't say 'no' to an emperor.
***
The only room more lavish than the throne room was the emperor's own chamber, and, as always, Sereia felt painfully out of place. How could she not? It was like... like standing before the gates of the academy all over again, and wondering whether she'd be good enough. Except, you know, this time, 'not being good enough' likely translated to having her head chopped off. After all, the emperor did have his standards.
"Evrian, my friend," the man gave her a practiced smile. (Sometimes, she wondered just how honest it was. At other times, she was too wise to walk down that path.) "Sit down. There are matters we need to discuss. They are matters of great importance, and I believe you should hear the news first."
Another war, then? It wasn't often that the emperor invited her for a game of chess, or for anything that didn't relate to their war efforts. Still, Sereia had kind of... dared to hope that their armies would be given at least some time to rest? Perhaps in vain, as it turned out.
"If I may, Your Highness," she began, knowing how bad idea of an idea it was and yet unable to stop herself, "it is my opinion that our soldiers need to recuperate before we make them march again. The last victory wasn't an easy one."
Bracing herself for whatever consequences may come, Sereia raised her gaze, and... found the man smiling? Alright, that was actually more unnerving than an outburst would have been. (The strongest storms, they said, came unannounced.)
"I didn't invite you to argue with me, but yes, I actually happen to agree with you. What the empire needs now is a celebration."
"...a celebration?" Sereia repeated, uncomprehending. What, did he hope for her to arrange the flowers? Still better than riding in one of those dreadful parades, with all the eyes glued on her, but only marginally so. Regardless, this could have been worse. "I suppose, Your Highness. Do you, uh, require any assistance with that?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. You're going to help with the main event." The emperor sniffed at his wine, watched the liquid glint in the candlelight, and, finally, took a sip. (For some reason, it appeared as if he enjoyed taking his sweet time. Maybe she was just seeing things, though?) "You, Evrian, will get married."
For a moment, Sereia's brain refused to process the statement. Just, hahaha! Funny how easily the ears could deceive you, huh?
It took her another moment to realize that, no, she'd heard exactly right, and many more moments for her to come close to accepting it. (Marred. Married, married, married. The word echoed in her head, over and over, and trying to grasp all the implications was like catching water with her bare hands. Yeah, sure, why not! ...come to think of it, comparing it to drowning would have been more apt.)
"Married? Me? But why?"
"The princess of The Turksian Isles needs a husband loyal to the empire, and you have served faithfully enough to earn the privilege. You will know what to do with those heathens, I'm sure."
"But..."
A wrong choice, perhaps the wrong choice, and Sereia knew it the second the fury reached his eyes. (It was just a tiny shard of it, inserted in his otherwise stony face, but even that was sharp enough to cut an artery. Ever wondered why he used a lion in his seal? Wake his anger, and you'd see.)
"But? I don't think you understood me, Evrian. I wasn't asking."
"...no, Your Highness. You were not. I, uh, am honored."
After all, you didn't say 'no' to an emperor. And, for the record? This could not have been worse.
***
After considerable effort, Sereia was at least able to convince the servants to leave her alone. She would dress herself on her own, she'd said; there had been protests, but a death glare or two was enough to shut those down before they could truly grow into a problem. And, hey, the general even managed to wrap herself into the terrible white-golden toga they'd chosen for her! The last of my grand victories, I suppose. At least I'll get to walk to the slaughterhouse on my own terms. (She was staring at herself in the mirror, but the man who stared back at her... no, she didn't recognize him. Somehow, he looked both ten years older and too young for this at the same time.) Maybe it won't be so bad? Maybe the princess will appreciate being married to... Yeah, the general didn't even bother finishing that thought. Truly, the man who had helped to bring her country to its knees must have been a dream match!
"General Evrian? The time has come."
Of course. Of course that it had! Steeling herself, Sereia took the first step into the temple... and into her future as well.
