Authors: Unknown
He threw the letter onto his desk. “My advisors are telling me to have them executed at once.”
Isabella blanched. “Not Catherine! She has become one of my dearest friends! And what about the girls? They’re only four months old—
far
too young to be executed for their parents’ plotting! Couldn’t they be made wards of the Empire?”
“Calm down, my love.” Frederick took her hand. “My advisors do not rule me.”
~*~
“This just arrived!” Krystállina announced, brandishing a letter in Amihan’s face. “The messenger said these are going out all over the Empire!”
“What does it say?”
By the order of Frederick III Hohenstaufen, Most Noble and Wise Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire; Most Beloved King of Germany, Jerusalem and Sicily:
Catherine Bestwick, former Duchess of Hartford, is now the sole ruler of Berlin and the surrounding regions. Her husband, Andrew Bestwick, is to be called the Grand Duke of Berlin in name only. Their daughters, Caroline and Grace Bestwick, are to be known as “Lady Berlin” jointly and severally.
“It’s signed, dated and sealed with the Emperor’s mark,” Krystállina added.
“‘In name only’?” Amihan repeated. “What does that mean?”
“It means that we’ve been found out. Probably the only reason that this is a notice of a change in rank instead of a warrant is that the Emperor has decided that we are only traitors to England and not the Empire. I am retaining my title because Frederick likely believes that I am not a threat to the Empire. You, however, clearly are.”
Amihan looked at his wife, stunned. “How did you figure all this out?”
“You have told me enough about your family in the last two years that I have learned a great deal about politics,” she explained. “Besides, it’s obvious we’re not in danger of our lives or the imperial guard would be banging down our door at this very moment!”
A sudden thumping counterpointed Krystállina’s remark, causing her to jump, but the Thunder God grabbed her arm.
“Those are Lady Lindele’s drums. See?” He pointed to the presence chamber table, where a parchment blossom was already turning into a flower.
She reached for the flower, but Amihan stayed her hand.
“That might disintegrate if a mortal touches it. And Lady Lindele is not known for repeating herself.”
Amihan slid his hand under the flower and gently opened the message.
“The Duchess Andhērā died e
arly this morning,” he said at length. The Thunder God threw the letter into the fireplace, where it flared up on its own. “Lady Lindele is requesting my presence at the Duchess’s funeral on my father’s behalf.”
“Her Grace was…your stepmother…correct?”
“The closest thing I had to one,” he agreed. “My father never married her, but they were able to halt the chaos in their relationship long enough for her to conceive my half-brother, Beniru.”
“If your father finally had enough of Her—”
“He would have sent her away. In fact, he would have had no problem taking a much younger mistress, causing the Duchess to leave on her own.”
Krystállina paled and groped wildly for her chair. “Then a mortal knows The Secret,” she whispered, sinking into it. “And you are all in danger.”
Amihan shook his head. “Lady Lindele said Andhērā died unexpectedly, but that does not mean that she did not have enemies. Most likely, it was a Goddess who was eager to have my father for her own. Or someone who was trying to become an Elder God for himse
lf.”
“Are you going to Her Grace’s funeral?” Krystállina asked at length.
“Not for a woman my father did not love. And who failed to love me in return.”
Two Weeks Later
The Grandest and Most Majestic of All Gods, Emperor of Emperors, Lord of Lords, High King of All High Kings; His Holines
s, Léi Shēng
and
The Late (but No Less Beautiful) Esteemed Duchess; Her Grace, Andhērā
Proudly Announce the Marriage of Their Son; the Most High, Powerful and Mighty Prince Beniru
to
The Elegant, Gentle and Beautiful Princess Masama, Daughter of the B
enevolent Duchess Kimmeru.
The Ceremony Will Take Place at One Post Meridian in the Temple of the Elder Gods on August the Twenty-First, in the Year of His Lordship, Twelve Hundred and Twenty-Seven.
All Persons of Divine Parentage are required to attend.
The Thunder God shook his head. “I don’t understand what is happening. Children have
always
gotten married at seventeen in our family—except for me. And what of Princess Masama? Has she even started her moonblood yet?”
“Sounds like a bunch of flowery prose to me.” Krystállina sat the invitation back on her desk.
“There is nothing flowery about ‘mandatory’. I cannot escape this one. What am I going to do?”
“I’m not required to attend,” she pointed out. “I
married
a God…I was not
born
to one.”
“It is not you that I am concerned about. They may act like normal babes now, but Chárí and Galíní are still demigoddesses. If my father uses his powers to learn whether I am coming, he will certainly detect the energy signatures of our daughters.”
Dark Moo
n Palace
Wài
Telfer crept anxiously down the corridor toward his master’s inner sanctum. He had served Léi Shēng since trying to get into the Elder God’s temple as a power mad teenager, but had grown no fonder of his master in the passage of
years. It was worse knowing that he was traversing the corridor uninvited, under mere intuition, but Telfer felt that this was a summons he could not ignore.
As he drew closer to the end, he could see a tiny blue flame hovering above the door opposite. The Elder God of Wind was in his meditation room and it was death for anyone who disturbed. Still…Telfer knocked.
“Identify yourself!” boomed an unfamiliar voice.
The servant straightened up. “I am Jonathan Telfer, loyal servant to the God of Gods and the onl
y mortal He trusts. I have come because I had a premonition that I was needed.”
Silence greeted this declaration, but it wasn’t long before Léi Shēng appeared at the door.
“This could have waited,” the Elder God said irritably. “But since you are here, I w
ill have to take what I can get. Enter.”
Léi Shēng stepped aside and allowed Telfer into the darkened room. A pallid light showed the servant where he was to sit, and when the door locked, the light went out. At length, his master’s voice came from the cen
ter of the room.
“I have been attempting to locate my son. His energy signature is faint, which means he is taking extreme precautions.”
“Has He responded to the invitation?”
“He has, stating that only he will be present. That is why I am trying to establish a connection.”
A great deal of silence followed,
as if Léi Shēng had resumed his attempt. “But there is an anomaly,” he said after a while.
“An anomaly, My Lord?”
“It is difficult to tell with all the protections in place, but I believe I can detect more than Amihan’s signature.”
“Queen Yolanda said that
the Grand Duchess of Berlin had twins.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Her Majesty said that Lady Queensberry and Lady Hartford were born in February, My Lord.”
“Four months ago,” Léi Shēng pondered. “Purebloods register a signature between birth and five mont
hs, but demigods can take up to a year.”
“If we are still in doubt that Prince Amihan secretly married Princess Aĺakána, then I would say that You have found a pair of precocious demigoddesses. Which means Queen Yolanda was right.”
“Despite your earlier as
sertations, we have no concrete proof that the Grand Duchess of Berlin is a mortal my son wedded,” the Elder God countered. “It
is
rather strange that the Grand Duchess of Berlin had twins within the same period that I detected two faint, unfamiliar energy signatures near Amihan, but it could simply be a coincidence.”
“There are no such things as coincidences,” Telfer muttered under his breath.
“I am not going to ask you to repeat that, as you would simply d
eny it,” Léi Shēng said. “Remove all search parties from Wài and Śēśa. Since the correlations are piling up, it is clear that we need to focus our attention on Tahanan.”
“Is there any specific place You would like the teams to begin, My Lord? Have You dete
cted a specific origin point for these signatures?”
“I do not believe I can get any closer than two hundred miles.”
“But couldn’t we have two man teams—”
“Stand in a circle around me and search two hundred mile swaths from that point?” Léi Shēng scoffed. “
You should know better than I that humans do not search in straight lines. The teams would invariably stray and overlap, leaving certain portions unsearched and suspicious humans in others.”
“And suspicious humans may report You to the other Elders if they believe You are planning to do something against the Laws of the Gods,” Telfer finished.
“Begin with those…natives…Amihan claimed to be living with before his betrothal to Aĺakána. Do not be afraid to use…unorthodox methods.”
Vienna
Holy Roman Empire
August 1227
Krystállina hesitated in the doorway. Since their arrival in
Vienna, Amihan had taken the guise of a brown-haired, gray-eyed Englishman to go with his noble title. The Thunder God allowed her to see his true nature so infrequently that she couldn’t help but stare.
His hair was quite a bit shorter than he usually kept it, blacker than any midnight she had ever seen and—if it were possible—his eyes were darker still. Amihan had chosen black dress robes to set off his pale skin, but glints of morning sunshine upon them told her there was also embroidery of the finest golden thread. Amihan straightened his robes, ran a hand over his bristling hair and stiffened when he saw Krystállina’s reflection in the highly polished sheet of silver that served as their looking glass. She sank into a curtsey, but not fast enough to avoid a glimpse of the lightning flashing behind his eyes.
“I asked you not to look at me before the wedding.”
“I know, My Lord, and I humbly crave Your forgiveness,” Krystállina told the ground. “But I just received word that the Archduchess Margareta is no longer among the living. The Empire is in mourning and Queen Yolanda is on her way from Hungary.”
Amihan raised her up, his expression gently chastising her for her return to the use of god/mortal formality.
“I cannot miss Beniru’s wedding, or we will be in danger indeed,” he reminded her. “Go to Empress Isabella and comfort her in her time of need. We will worry about the betrothal later.”
Palace of the Singing Rivers
Wà
i