When Pyraean Queen Elysia (9 BE–37 AE) set her sights on expanding into the valley, she knew that alliances, not conquests, were the best way to protect her people and their future. With four royal sisters eligible for marriage, as well as herself, she intended to secure such treaties through wedlock.
The “Five Brides” have often been credited as crucial to the founding of the empire, for it was through these matches that they were able to unify many of the lesser kingdoms in a peaceful fashion. Hence Queen Elysia became known as the Peacemaker.
While her sisters married for duty and for position in this new world, it is said that Elysia herself married for love. When she and her sisters flew to Ferro to undergo peace negotiations with King Damian, they discovered that he was under attack by the neighboring Stellan kingdom of Rolland.
They traveled with haste to the battlefield, where King Damian and King Rol were locked in combat. When Queen Elysia landed among them, her four sisters beside her, the battle ground to a halt—none in the valley had ever seen such a sight as flaming firebirds with fierce, beautiful women astride them, descending like fallen stars.
As the soldiers on either side began to scatter, Queen Elysia faced the two kings. King Damian bowed at the sight of her, showing the respect that was her due. King Rol, on the other hand, took advantage of the moment of distraction and stabbed King Damian in the back. Before he could finish the job, Queen Elysia lunged forward, blocking his blade with her obsidian dagger. When Rol tried to run, the youngest of the sisters, Princess Darya, put an arrow in his chest. Though there would be decades of strife between the Stellan kings and Pyraean queens, many trace their enmity back to this solitary event in history.
As King Damian stood face-to-face with Queen Elysia, it was clear that he saw more than just a fiery warrior queen—he saw his future bride.
—“The Reign of Queen Elysia the Peacemaker,” from The Early Years of the Golden Empire by Winry, High Priestess of Mori, published 79 AE
It is a fact of life that one must kill or be killed. Rule or be ruled. Win or lose.
- CHAPTER 20 -
SEV
FOR SEV’S PART IN the llama’s death, he was given a week of latrine duty. The disparity in the punishments between him and Kade was enough to ensure that whatever anger Kade held toward him before his botched escape, it would now be tenfold. Word had also traveled along the convoy, blaming Sev for the delay and the extra-hard afternoon’s march, and so curses and mutters followed him wherever he went, coming from servants and soldiers alike.
One benefit of marching until midnight was that Trix didn’t confront him until the following evening.
Sev was hunched over and sweating as he dug the latrine, the activity a convenient outlet for his pent-up frustration. The steady thump and scrape of the shovel hitting the packed earth drowned out all his thoughts. It was almost peaceful.
“Drop that shovel this instant before I club you over the head with it.”
Sev grimaced. He’d known this moment would come, but he’d been dreading it all the same. Slowly he turned to find Trix standing behind him, eyes sparking dangerously. Kade was there as well, looming like a wide, intimidating shadow.
“I . . . ,” Sev began, but he didn’t have any words lined up.
“The shovel,” Trix barked. “Or maybe I’ll drive it straight up your backside instead.”
Sev released his grip on the spade, which fell into the dirt with a thud. The latrine was mostly finished anyway.
“Good. Now walk.”
Sev had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being marched to the edges of the campsite so that he could be killed quickly and silently. He assured himself that was ridiculous, but with every step he took, Trix’s rage seemed to grow, filling the air around them with the crackling intensity of a coming storm.
“Look, Trix, I—”
“No, you don’t get to talk,” she snapped, coming to a halt at last and turning to face him. Sev had never seen her upset before. She was always sarcastic and dark humored, but never truly angry or out of control. “For once you’ll listen. Never have I encountered such a ridiculous, stubborn, thick-skulled—”
“Enough,” Kade interrupted, and both Sev and Trix whipped their heads around in shock.
Sev couldn’t help but gape: Kade was standing up for him—and against Trix? He was almost giddy with gratitude.
Kade looked between them, from the astounded expression on Sev’s face to Trix’s similar wide-eyed stare. He cleared his throat. “He came back, didn’t he?”
Trix shook her head, as if trying to dispel a cloud of mosquitoes. She turned to Sev again; while her voice was quieter, her temper had not yet subsided. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You almost ruined everything.”
“Of course I don’t!” Sev said, his tone bordering on shrill. They stood in a dense copse of trees, the heavy branches muffling the sounds of their conversation. Still, he cleared his throat as he added quietly, “You don’t tell me anything.”
“I wonder why,” Trix sneered. “You’ve had a foot out the door the whole time.”
“The only reason my foot is in the door at all is because you blackmailed me, you sneaky, conniving witch.”
Silence.
Sev worried he’d gone too far, that Trix might decide to do away with him after all.
Instead she burst into raucous, cackling laughter.
Sev allowed himself a small, cautious smile—and was shocked to see Kade returning it.
“I hoped you might have a backbone in there somewhere . . . ,” Trix murmured, wiping at the tears of mirth that wet her eyes. Then she became severe once more. “But what you did was beyond foolish. Didn’t I already catch you trying a ridiculous escape once before? Did you really think you could slip through my grasp so easily, never mind the empire’s?”
Sev clenched his fists, but he didn’t argue with her.
“Well . . .” She sighed, the rest of her anger seemingly spent. “You were right, of course.”
Sev frowned—he was right about something?
She crooked him a regretful grin. “It was a mistake to get you involved, to try to coerce loyalty out of you. I thought you might want to fight for our people, like your parents did, but I accept that I was wrong.”
“My parents . . . ,” Sev repeated, all humor gone from him. “What do you know about my parents?”
She stepped forward, the dappled moonlight filtering through the trees playing across her wrinkled face. “I know more than you could possibly imagine, Sevro, son of Alys and Sevono.”
Their names, unspoken for so long, echoed inside Sev’s head.