In just a few minutes, her father would greet the heads of the eighty-one noble Houses in the Empire, or, in some cases, their representatives. Also present would be most of the two hundred forty-three ambassadors, men who were almost always as rich as their local lords, sometimes richer, but due to quirk of birth were not noble. The ambassadors were supposed to represent the wishes of the common people in their region, but often they represented only other rich merchants like themselves. The three weeks of spring council meetings were meant to give everyone in the Empire, highborn and commoner alike, the feeling that they had a say in the governing of the Empire. Technically, the Emperor had final decision-making power over all affairs of state, but he usually at least took the opinions of his council into consideration. Yet another reason they called him “the Just.”
For the first time in her life, Tasia would attend the council meeting alongside her father. For the Emperor’s heir to attend a council meeting was not unusual at all; her own father attended council meetings from the time he was twelve until his father died when he was nineteen. But there had not been a female heir in living memory, which meant Tasia’s appearance at the council would be doubly noteworthy. She was probably the first female to attend the council meeting in generations.
“Princess?” Joslyn said. “Should we go?”
Well, at least Tasia wouldn’t be the only female there. Joslyn would be there, too, standing inconspicuously behind the Princess. Tasia supposed she should be comforted by that. Especially considering that whoever wanted her dead would probably be somewhere in the audience.
“Princess?” Joslyn said again.
Tasia took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
For once, the Princess was glad for the guard’s company.
10
The Emperor, Wise Man Norix, Wise Man Evrart, and two palace guards were waiting when Tasia and Joslyn arrived. The Wise Men were both in their normal grey robes; the Emperor had dressed formally for the first council meeting of the season. He wore rich black silks embroidered with silver moons and the silver eagle of House Dorsa. Atop his head was a slim crown, the steel one with the black pearl in its center.
So. The steel crown. A symbol of strength.
The Wise Men stood on one side of him, two of the palace guards stood on the other.
“Are you ready?” the Emperor asked his daughter.
Tasia gave him a quick curtsy. “Yes.”
“This is an important council meeting,” the Emperor said. “It’s the first meeting of the spring council sessions, and because they know we’ll be discussing the War in the East, nearly every lord and every ambassador in all Four Realms has turned up.”
Norix, who’d been standing silently next to her father, rocked back on his heels a little before smiling at the Princess. “And we’ll be announcing your ascendency today.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Tasia ran her hands down the front of her gown, smoothing it.
Norix rested a hand on her shoulder. “Project confidence. Believe that you are the heir and they will also.”
Tasia nodded.
The Emperor signaled to the guards, and they walked down the hallway ahead of the Emperor’s party, opening the heavy double cedar doors that led into the council room. The doors were carved in relief with the history of the House of Dorsa, showing how Dorsan, son of Zokaz, first led his refugee tribe from the dangerous Unknown Lands in the far north to safety in the south almost two thousand years earlier. According to legend, the half-beast, half-man monsters of the Unknown Lands pursued them all the way to the southern coast, where Dorsan and his kinsmen made a final stand and defeated the monsters at last. Port Lorsin, the Empire’s capital city, was founded by the surviving tribe members — “Lorsin” meant “victory” in the old tongue. The palace the House of Dorsa had lived in ever since was originally just a hill fort the tribe had made to protect itself.
The detailed carving that showed founding of Port Lorsin, complete with a stylized Dorsan and the first Wise Man, Gorak, was the last thing Tasia saw before the doors swung open.
“All stand for the Emperor Andreth the Just of the House of Dorsa, ruler of the Four Realms, Father of the Empire’s Children,” boomed the guard. The room of lords, lords’ sons, ambassadors, Wise Men, and their guards stood automatically. The door guard hesitated for only the slightest moment before adding, “And for his daughter, the Princess Natasia, heir to the crown, future Empress, future Mother of the Empire’s Children.”
At the mention of the Princess, glances were exchanged, jaws fell, whispers rippled through the crowd.
Apparently this was what Norix had meant by “announcing” her ascendancy. It was a bold move, to be sure, but there was wisdom to it, Tasia supposed. Her new position as heir had been made a simple statement of fact, without giving time for discussion or room for interpretation.
The Emperor strode in, his silk robes billowing behind him like a flag, with Tasia close on his heels. She followed him to the table on the raised dais at the front of the room. A guard pulled out a chair for her to his right, and Tasia settled into it gracefully, as if she’d done it a thousand times, as if her heart wasn’t hammering so hard that it threatened to break free from her chest.
Wise Man Norix and Wise Man Evrart took the seats to the Emperor’s left. Also at the raised table were General Remington and a handful of her father’s other advisors, all of them Wise Men or military men.
Once everyone at the Emperor’s table sat, the rest of the room settled back into their own chairs.
Tasia looked out over the crowd, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. Somewhere amongst these men was most likely at least one who wanted her dead.
Her father had been right: Today’s council meeting was particularly full. With three straight weeks of council meetings each spring, summer, autumn, and winter, not all lords attended every meeting in person. After all, Port Lorsin was many weeks’ journey for some of them, and so many sent their sons or Wise Men instead. A few, the ones who had particularly good relationships with their local ambassadors, relied upon the common people’s representative to bring back news from the capital. But with the war going poorly in the East, and an imminent spring offensive likely, nearly every Head of House, their heirs, Wise Men, and ambassadors were present.
Tasia kept her expression calm and composed. For once, she was glad for the countless formal functions she’d been forced to attend over her nineteen years; she knew how to fake an emotion for a crowd.
In this case, Tasia faked a warm smile and utter relaxation.
The first third of the council meeting was unremarkable. The Wise Man of Trade and Coffers reported that, despite the ongoing War in the East, the Empire’s treasury remained healthy. Grumbles spread through the crowd, however, when he said that an increase taxes might be necessary in order to fund an “expansion of hostilities”.
Following the report from Trade and Coffers, other Wise Men stood at the raised table at the head of the room and gave the council their seasonal reports on agricultural production, infrastructure, and mercantile activities.
Finally, General Remington stood from his seat to give his report. He was the one the council had been waiting to hear from, and the General knew it. But the old war hero carried himself with a confident presence that still commanded the room’s attention, despite the white hair and wooden peg leg making him look like the stitched together remnants of a man.