Kingsbane (Empirium 2)

“Clearly you do.” He rose from his chair, an angry energy crackling around his body like sparks. “This angel, Corien, he gave you Saint Marzana’s shield without asking anything of you. Does that not seem suspicious to you?”

Careful, Ludivine warned her.

Rielle, her calm unraveling, shoved Ludivine away. I don’t need you to tell me to be careful.

“In his eyes,” she said aloud, “the shield is a gift meant to win my favor.”

“So you’ll help him tear down the Gate and resurrect the angels,” Miren said flatly. “And here you are doing just that—attempting resurrection, killing innocent people in the name of a practice in which you have no reason to indulge.”

Rielle swallowed her immediate, angry replies. They had decided to withhold knowledge of Ludivine’s true self and her blightblade scar, which had seemed a good idea at the time and now felt like yet another hateful constraint.

“If I can resurrect the dead,” she said, “then when war comes, I can heal our wounded. I can bring the dying back from the brink. And besides that…”

She stopped, glaring fiercely at her hands.

“Besides that,” said Tal quietly, “you want to explore your limitations, the far reaches of your power.”

She looked up at him. The tired, knowing look in his hazel eyes made her straighten, steeling herself against that familiar appeal to her pity.

“If there are any limitations to my power,” she said.

Miren’s wry voice broke the silence. “It’s not exactly reassuring to hear you say things like that.”

“Reassuring you is not my responsibility.”

“When someone is as powerful as you are, then, yes, it is part of your responsibility to not terrify those around you.”

Rielle smirked at her. “You scare rather easily.”

“Enough,” came Audric’s weary voice, quieting them all.

Ludivine cleared her throat. “Perhaps it would be best if Rielle leaves Celdaria for a while, until the city calms a bit.”

Tal, leaning heavily on his knees, frowned at the floor. “That’s the exact opposite of what should happen. Rielle needs to show her face at the temples. Pray and worship. Use her power in controlled, easily digestible situations that demonstrate she is not to be feared.”

“But I am to be feared,” Rielle said. “Pretending otherwise helps no one.”

“Now you’re outright threatening our city.” Miren glared at Tal. “You find this acceptable?”

“I’m not threatening anyone. I’m simply stating the truth.” Rielle rose, releasing Audric’s hand. “I am more powerful than they are, more powerful than anyone. I can do things they can neither imagine nor comprehend.” She returned Miren’s stony stare. “Implying that we are the same insults their intelligence.”

Tal smiled a little. “And insults your vanity.”

“Well.” Rielle returned his smile. “I wasn’t going to say it.”

Miren watched them both, her face unreadable.

“It might be wise, in one sense,” said Audric, “for Rielle to stay here and earn back the city’s favor, but I fear there isn’t time for that. The Gate is falling. That is the priority.”

Rielle nodded. “We must continue collecting the castings.”

Audric drew in a long, slow breath. “You must.”

She looked back at him, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve spoken of traveling to Mazabat next, a journey that would take several weeks. I can’t leave again for so long a time, not with things as they are. Angry crowds at Baingarde’s gates, and Mother…” He paused, his face closing.

Rielle blinked. He had said nothing of the queen to her. “What’s wrong with Genoveve?”

“She’s not been the same since Father’s death, as you know. I think it would distress her to have me leave again so soon. And if the city can’t see your face and be comforted and reassured by your presence, then they should see mine.” He smiled sadly up at her. “Though the thought of being parted from you is not one I relish.”

Ludivine’s panic came swiftly. No. He can’t. He must come with us. The two of you must never be parted. You must always be together.

Rielle snapped at her. And why is that? Because you don’t trust me to control myself otherwise should Corien show himself again?

That’s exactly why. Don’t pretend stupidity. It doesn’t suit you.

Nor does your lack of faith in me suit you.

Nevertheless, Rielle felt a hot swell of shame in her chest, for there was a part of her that feared Audric’s absence, and its effect on her, more than Ludivine did. She cupped his face in her hands and bent low to kiss him.

“You are a gift to your people,” she told him softly, “and to me.”

He pressed a kiss to the heart of her palm. “My light and my life.”

“Well,” said Tal, rising, “if Audric isn’t going, then I am.”

Rielle turned at that, heartily enjoying the sight of Miren’s stricken expression.

Audric visibly relaxed. “An excellent idea.”

No, said Ludivine at once.

What remained of Rielle’s patience evaporated. Now what? Must everyone and everything pass your rigorous approval? Why shouldn’t Tal go? He’s a Grand Magister. He will bring with him the authority and power of the Church.

Ludivine hesitated. Her thoughts fumbled.

You’re hiding something from me, Rielle thought. About Tal?

I worry that so much time spent together will not be healthy for either of you, Ludivine said carefully.

What in the name of the saints is that supposed to mean?

But Ludivine, clutching her covered, scarred arm, did not answer, so Rielle shoved a feeling of disgust at her and stepped away, both in body and mind. She joined Tal at his desk and began inspecting his calendar, with him on one side and Audric standing on the other, and Miren sitting alone, quiet and rigid, by the window.

• • •

They decided to wait until Rielle’s Sun Guard had made the journey back from Kirvaya before leaving again for Mazabat—in part because Audric trusted them more than any of Rielle’s secondary guard, and because Rielle refused to make the journey without Evyline.

She spent much of the following three weeks gritting her teeth. Dutifully, she prayed morning and night in the temples, moving to a different one each day. Dutifully, she made appearances at court, demonstrating meaningless tricks of her power for gaping members of the nobility over tea and cakes. Dutifully, she assisted families in the farmlands with the flow of their irrigation, the tilling of their soil, the angle at which the sunlight lit their crops. o;Clearly you do.” He rose from his chair, an angry energy crackling around his body like sparks. “This angel, Corien, he gave you Saint Marzana’s shield without asking anything of you. Does that not seem suspicious to you?”

Careful, Ludivine warned her.

Rielle, her calm unraveling, shoved Ludivine away. I don’t need you to tell me to be careful.

“In his eyes,” she said aloud, “the shield is a gift meant to win my favor.”

“So you’ll help him tear down the Gate and resurrect the angels,” Miren said flatly. “And here you are doing just that—attempting resurrection, killing innocent people in the name of a practice in which you have no reason to indulge.”

Rielle swallowed her immediate, angry replies. They had decided to withhold knowledge of Ludivine’s true self and her blightblade scar, which had seemed a good idea at the time and now felt like yet another hateful constraint.

“If I can resurrect the dead,” she said, “then when war comes, I can heal our wounded. I can bring the dying back from the brink. And besides that…”

She stopped, glaring fiercely at her hands.

“Besides that,” said Tal quietly, “you want to explore your limitations, the far reaches of your power.”

She looked up at him. The tired, knowing look in his hazel eyes made her straighten, steeling herself against that familiar appeal to her pity.

“If there are any limitations to my power,” she said.

Miren’s wry voice broke the silence. “It’s not exactly reassuring to hear you say things like that.”

“Reassuring you is not my responsibility.”

“When someone is as powerful as you are, then, yes, it is part of your responsibility to not terrify those around you.”

Rielle smirked at her. “You scare rather easily.”

“Enough,” came Audric’s weary voice, quieting them all.

Ludivine cleared her throat. “Perhaps it would be best if Rielle leaves Celdaria for a while, until the city calms a bit.”

Tal, leaning heavily on his knees, frowned at the floor. “That’s the exact opposite of what should happen. Rielle needs to show her face at the temples. Pray and worship. Use her power in controlled, easily digestible situations that demonstrate she is not to be feared.”

“But I am to be feared,” Rielle said. “Pretending otherwise helps no one.”

“Now you’re outright threatening our city.” Miren glared at Tal. “You find this acceptable?”

“I’m not threatening anyone. I’m simply stating the truth.” Rielle rose, releasing Audric’s hand. “I am more powerful than they are, more powerful than anyone. I can do things they can neither imagine nor comprehend.” She returned Miren’s stony stare. “Implying that we are the same insults their intelligence.”

Tal smiled a little. “And insults your vanity.”

“Well.” Rielle returned his smile. “I wasn’t going to say it.”

Miren watched them both, her face unreadable.

“It might be wise, in one sense,” said Audric, “for Rielle to stay here and earn back the city’s favor, but I fear there isn’t time for that. The Gate is falling. That is the priority.”

Rielle nodded. “We must continue collecting the castings.”

Audric drew in a long, slow breath. “You must.”

She looked back at him, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve spoken of traveling to Mazabat next, a journey that would take several weeks. I can’t leave again for so long a time, not with things as they are. Angry crowds at Baingarde’s gates, and Mother…” He paused, his face closing.

Rielle blinked. He had said nothing of the queen to her. “What’s wrong with Genoveve?”

“She’s not been the same since Father’s death, as you know. I think it would distress her to have me leave again so soon. And if the city can’t see your face and be comforted and reassured by your presence, then they should see mine.” He smiled sadly up at her. “Though the thought of being parted from you is not one I relish.”

Ludivine’s panic came swiftly. No. He can’t. He must come with us. The two of you must never be parted. You must always be together.

Rielle snapped at her. And why is that? Because you don’t trust me to control myself otherwise should Corien show himself again?

That’s exactly why. Don’t pretend stupidity. It doesn’t suit you.

Nor does your lack of faith in me suit you.

Nevertheless, Rielle felt a hot swell of shame in her chest, for there was a part of her that feared Audric’s absence, and its effect on her, more than Ludivine did. She cupped his face in her hands and bent low to kiss him.

“You are a gift to your people,” she told him softly, “and to me.”

He pressed a kiss to the heart of her palm. “My light and my life.”

“Well,” said Tal, rising, “if Audric isn’t going, then I am.”

Rielle turned at that, heartily enjoying the sight of Miren’s stricken expression.

Audric visibly relaxed. “An excellent idea.”

No, said Ludivine at once.

What remained of Rielle’s patience evaporated. Now what? Must everyone and everything pass your rigorous approval? Why shouldn’t Tal go? He’s a Grand Magister. He will bring with him the authority and power of the Church.

Ludivine hesitated. Her thoughts fumbled.

You’re hiding something from me, Rielle thought. About Tal?

I worry that so much time spent together will not be healthy for either of you, Ludivine said carefully.

What in the name of the saints is that supposed to mean?

But Ludivine, clutching her covered, scarred arm, did not answer, so Rielle shoved a feeling of disgust at her and stepped away, both in body and mind. She joined Tal at his desk and began inspecting his calendar, with him on one side and Audric standing on the other, and Miren sitting alone, quiet and rigid, by the window.

• • •

They decided to wait until Rielle’s Sun Guard had made the journey back from Kirvaya before leaving again for Mazabat—in part because Audric trusted them more than any of Rielle’s secondary guard, and because Rielle refused to make the journey without Evyline.

She spent much of the following three weeks gritting her teeth. Dutifully, she prayed morning and night in the temples, moving to a different one each day. Dutifully, she made appearances at court, demonstrating meaningless tricks of her power for gaping members of the nobility over tea and cakes. Dutifully, she assisted families in the farmlands with the flow of their irrigation, the tilling of their soil, the angle at which the sunlight lit their crops.