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fingerless-glovez · 6 months

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A Balm To My Shuddering Heart

Spoilers for Tino's route. Based on that one Tino perspective about why he loves Lynt so much. Lynt is five years old in this, and I put Tino at 12.

TW: Implied abuse and PTSD responses

“Good morning, Your Highness! Happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday, Young Master!”

“Hello, Your Highness! Are you excited for your party? I can’t wait to see you there. Happy birthday!”

These were just a few examples of the well-wishes of every maid, steward, and scullion little Prince Lynt Akedia passed in the hallway. He regarded each with a small wave or a nod, and a smile as he continued walking.

It’s true, today was his birthday. Come the afternoon, he would officially be five years old. However, even though everyone in the entire castle, and even in the entire kingdom of Akedia, was bustling with activity, eagerly preparing for the event, Lynt could barely muster up more than a yawn over the whole ordeal. He strode along in search of his father, King Liam, hoping they could slip away together and find a quiet spot to nap.

Lynt simply couldn’t understand what all the excitement was about. What was so special about him becoming one year older? Why did that require such extravagant celebration? He learned from his last birthday that he wouldn’t feel any different after the specific time of his birth passed, and he was still the same little boy he’d always been. Perhaps he could ask his father when he found him.

***

As Lynt’s sleepy hunt continued, a whole gaggle of older and taller boys clad in bright green eagerly approached him and stopped him in his tracks.

“Good morning, Your Highness! Where might you be going?” One greeted, only to be shoved backward by another in the group.

“Shall I accompany you?” The next boy inquired before he was pushed aside as well.

“Is there something you need? I can fetch it for you at once!”

“Hey, I asked him first!”

“Well, I saw him first!”

“I was the first to reach him. You two always try to hog the prince to yourselves!”

Lynt didn’t know all of their names, but he knew who they were and why they were so determined to mind him. They were from the House of Maes, a large and prestigious family that had served the Akedian royal family since the early years of its existence. Every child born into the Maes family is trained to become a valet from the moment they can walk, brought up the be the perfect model of Akedian citizenship. While it would already be a privilege to be part of such an esteemed household of people, the highest honor a Maes child can receive is the title of Primi Ordinis. The Primi Ordinis would not only be made the head of the entire House of Maes but they would also be selected valet to Akedia’s king, a goal that they all dreamed of achieving. These three boys were no exception.

Despite being aware of all this, however, Lynt was not thrilled with the three who had managed to catch him. They were all several heads taller than him, and they continued to crowd him as he tried to get by, as if to intentionally impede his progress. Lynt always felt the enthusiasm of the Maes children ranged from bothersome at best to suffocating at worst. This opinion was not limited to these three in particular; Every time he found himself within a Maes child’s field of vision, they would follow him around and essentially beg him to let them fuss over him. To make things worse, the only request they wouldn’t take him up on was leaving him alone to let him sleep, his singular favorite activity. To put it simply, Lynt was quite unhappy with the attention he was receiving.

“Why d’you frown so, Young Master?”

“It’s because you keep trying to monopolize him, you nincompoop!”

“I beg your very pardon?! I’m not nearly as stingy as you are with him!”

“Boys…”

The bickering came to a screeching halt at the call of a stern voice no one could ignore. Said voice belonged to none other than the current Primi Ordinis himself: Styn Maes. And, more importantly to Lynt, his father’s valet. Just behind him was one of his nephews, a tall, polite boy named Daan.

“May I ask what reason you three could possibly have to be smothering the prince as you are?” The tall man asked. The boys shrunk under his steely green gaze.

“W-We’re sorry, sir!”

“We just wanted to make sure Young Master Lynt was being tended to properly…”

“These two keep trying to keep Young Master Lynt to themselves!”

“Don’t give him that unicorn dung! You’re no better than-”

Styn cleared his throat, cutting off the petty argument before it could escalate any further. Once again, all three boys drew back, standing shamefully at full attention.

“I believe we’ve had this discussion before. There is a difference between ‘tending to’ and ‘badgering’, and there is absolutely no excuse for you to fight over him. Besides, today is his birthday. Would it really do to overwhelm him now when he’s already going to be getting so much attention at his party?”

“No…” They unanimously conceded.

“And speaking of the party, have you completed the tasks I gave you to help with the arrangements?”

The boys hung their heads, looking everywhere but Styn’s eyes. The silence spoke for itself.

“I see,” The head valet said, “Perhaps instead of continuing this little quarrel, you ought to consider getting back to your chores. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir…” They groaned, skulking away. Once they were gone, Styn took a moment to sigh, shake his head, and adjust his glasses. Then, he kneeled to address Lynt.

“My apologies, Young Master Lynt. It seems my nephews are a bit overzealous today. They didn’t trouble you too much, I hope?”

Lynt shook his head. “Master Styn, have you seen my father? I was hoping to take a nap with him.”

At the mention of his father, Styn’s poise and professionalism visibly slipped by a small amount, revealing the antsier side that Lynt was more familiar with. “Ah, yes. As it so happens, I was embroiled in a hunt for King Liam myself. Perhaps he had the same idea as you and saw fit to get a head start. However, he is presently needed in the ballroom to give his opinion on the arrangements of the venue, so I’m sorry to say that your nap with him shall have to wait.”

“Oh…” Lynt sighed, dejectedly. He knew his father would be busier than usual today, and had only wanted a small respite with him before the festivities started. Sadly, it appeared that wouldn’t be happening now.

Styn’s expression softened at the noticeable drop in his spirits. “I’m truly sorry, Young Master, but I’m sure you understand your father shares the responsibility to make sure you have the celebration you so deserve with everyone else in this castle. It will be worth the wait, I assure you. For now, if it is a rest you desire, the library is unoccupied. That should suit your needs nicely.”

“Sir, if I may,” Daan, who had been quietly waiting for his uncle to finish his reprimanding, piped up, “Might I escort His Highness to the library? It’s only a short ways away, and I believe seeing me with the prince will deter my siblings and cousins from swarming him as they just did.”

Styn hummed consideringly at the proposal before turning back to Lynt. “Would that be alright, Young Master?”

“Mm…” Lynt glanced at Daan, studying him for a moment, then shrugged, “... I suppose.”

“Very well,” Styn remarked, standing back to his full height and turning to his nephew, “Once His Highness has reached his destination safely, you are to return to your duties at once. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Daan replied with confidence. He held out his hand for Lynt to take, “Come along, Your Highness. I will see that you are undisturbed during our trip.”

Lynt only hummed his understanding before walking past him. He knew where the library was; He napped there often. He didn’t need his hand held to get there, even if Daan was going to be his temporary bodyguard.

Of all the Maes children of his generation, Daan was the closest to the model citizen they all strived to be. To anyone else, he was near perfect in every way. Composed, graceful, courteous, and always ready to do whatever is asked of him with uncanny accuracy, all the other children in his family gave him almost the same respect as Styn Maes himself. But to Lynt, he was simply a quieter version of almost every other Maes child, and the offer to escort Lynt to the library was a convenient excuse to be close to him. In his eyes, Daan was allowed more opportunities to shadow him due to his charm, skills, and popularity among his relatives and all of the adults in the castle.

However, Lynt couldn’t shake the… strange feeling that swirled in his stomach whenever Daan was around him. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but this particular boy always made him feel like there was something very wrong.

But, as Daan said, the library was not far away, and his pushier relatives never bothered Lynt while he was around, so Lynt decided he could bear it until he was alone again.

***

Just as the clock struck noon, noblemen and women poured into the ballroom. Music drifted from the floor to the ceiling, just barely audible over the chatter of excited guests. The aroma of the banquet wafted over the room, enticing those nearby to sample the exquisite dishes the cooks had been wakeful since dawn to prepare. The atmosphere was so light, it was almost impossible not to partake in the frivolity.

And yet, there were two in attendance who weren’t feeling fit to revel. First, to the surprise of many, was Styn, who seemed to be in a frantic search of something. And second was the birthday boy, dressed to the nines in a formal outfit that many had already described as adorable.

At first, Lynt truly was enjoying himself; The fact so many came just to say they were happy he was there and eager to see him grow and become his own person left him with a bubbly in his chest. He hadn’t realized just how much his subjects appreciated him for merely existing, and for the first time, he felt grateful for it. The food was also quite delicious.

But after a while of greeting guests and receiving many more wishes for a happy birthday, Lynt began to stifle yawns and rub his eyes to keep them open. The energy he had felt at the beginning of the party was stagnating, and people shifted their attention from him to each other, mingling and dancing and eating, which gave Lynt very little reason to stay and keep celebrating. As such, he felt the only thing left to do was to sneak off to find somewhere to take a nap…

“Oh, there you are, Your Highness. Are you enjoying your party? There’s more food for you to try this way.”

Dragon’s breath, Lynt thought as Daan whisked him away from one of the doors leading out of the venue. The Maes boy had been hovering around him more than usual since the party started, constantly checking in and diverting him away from any of the exits. Lynt supposed he was trying to impress Styn, who was still preoccupied with whatever it was he was looking for, by keeping an eye on him, and Lynt was starting to grow weary from it.

But since Daan’s only purpose of the night was to be his honorary valet, Lynt had no choice but to accept it. Or maybe…

“... Daan?”

The boy in question startled slightly; Lynt had not directly spoken to him all day, but he quickly regained his composure. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“I am feeling peckish.”

“Oh, I see. Would you like me to fetch you a plate of food?”

“Yes. I would like some bread rolls, potatoes, and a cup of fragipara juice, please.”

Daan nodded, “As you wish. Wait here for me, please. I will return shortly.”

Once he was a good distance away, Lynt ducked into the crowd and made his way toward the first door he could spot. However, the difficulty came with trying to navigate his way through all the big people occupying the space. It was hard to see past all the legs and ball gowns blocking his path, especially when they leaned down to say hello to him, and he managed to get turned around quite a few times, making him completely lost in the sea of nobility.

Finally, he found himself being hoisted up from the floor by a pair of large, familiar hands.

“Why, hello there, my son.”

“Father!” Lynt exclaimed as King Liam placed him on his hip. His emerald eyes were shining with affection.

“How are you, my son? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Mm-hmm,” Lynt replied, only to be interrupted by a large yawn that made Liam giggle.

“Styn informed me that you sought a nap with me this morning. I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to do so. I found the most wonderful spot in the garden. Perhaps we might sleep there after the party is over.”

“Mm… I’m quite sleepy now, as it so happens,” Lynt mumbled, swallowing another yawn.

“Yes, that I can see. Well, I’m sure it won’t be too much trouble to give you a brief respite from the merrymaking,” Liam supposed. With Lynt in his arms, he strode to the exit that Lynt had been aiming for, politely excusing himself as the guests made way for him to cross the room. Once he reached the door, he set his son down and pulled at the handle.

“Oh, how strange…” Liam uttered when the door stayed shut, “This door has been locked for some reason.”

After unlocking and cracking the door open, Liam ushered Lynt out into the hallway. “When you get to the courtyard, look for the sky apple tree by the fountain. You’ll get a nice breeze and plenty of shade at this hour. Sleep well, my son.”

Lynt beamed up, grateful for the escape, “Mm-hmm. Thank you, Father.”

Liam gave him one last smile before shutting the door again.

***

The sun was high in the sky, and just as King Liam said, the breeze was pleasant to Lynt’s skin as he wandered about the castle’s central courtyard. His puffy, layered formal outfit did not combine well with the early summer weather, but the cool wind that swept by him counteracted the mild heat nicely. He allowed himself a long, drawn-out yawn, eager to find the bespoke fragipara tree and sleep under its shade.

“Father said it was near the fountain,” Lynt reminded himself. He didn’t normally nap near there, as the water was too loud to sleep right by it, but maybe it wouldn’t be too bad by the tree.

It took a couple of minutes of listening around for the fountain behind the tall, thick hedges, but at long last, he’d found it: A large tree of crimson bark, topped with red leaves and budding fragipara fruits. Just to the side of it was a shadow that seemed to call his name like a siren. The fountain could still be heard, but it was far enough away that he could regard it as soothing white noise. Lynt ambled closer to the shaded area, strangely giddy for a boy who planned to go right to sleep, the splashing of the water close by blanketing his mind with its constant, monotonous rhythm…

Then he heard a different sound. He stopped and listened for a moment. He heard it again. And again. Was that… sobbing? Even over the cacophony of rushing water, Lynt could hear the raspy breathing and high whimpers of someone who must’ve been relatively young.

Lynt was a kind soul. The only thing stronger than his desire for sleep was his hatred for the suffering of others. If someone was hurting, he would at least want to try and help. With this conviction in mind, he abandoned his objective and cautiously stepped closer to the fountain, rounding its circular base to find the source of the crying.

The weeping was coming from a blond boy in a bright green vest, and Lynt immediately recognized him as a Maes child. He looked to be around Daan’s age, and he looked more familiar than most of the other Maes children. A few questions arose in the prince’s mind: Who was he? Why wasn’t he in the castle? All of the Maes children were meant to be inside tending to the guests, and Lynt most importantly, so why would he be out here where no one else is? And, most importantly, why is he crying? Lynt didn’t know the answer to any of these questions, but he was sure the last one could be partially blamed on the red and purple marks that littered his bare right arm, only visible because his sleeve was rolled up past his elbow.

Lynt had never seen someone so distraught before. This boy sat hunched over on the edge of the fountain, elbows resting on his knees, and his hands tugged at his hair. Each sob racked his entire body. Every whimper was thick and hoarse as if they were being ripped from his throat. Any breath he tried to take was like a strangled wheeze, and Lynt wondered if he could even breathe at all.

Whatever was making this boy so upset, Lynt realized it must have been bad. Something worse than a scraped knee or watching two people fight. But he didn’t know what it could have been, and ultimately decided it wasn’t important. This boy was in clear distress, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sad?”

Upon hearing him speak, the Maes boy jolted upright with a rough gasp.

“Pardon?” His voice was almost too quiet to hear as he slowly turned to look at Lynt. Finally, Lynt could pinpoint which Maes child this was. His face was nearly identical to that of his father, Styn Maes. Lynt hadn’t been around him as often as Daan, but there was no mistaking the son of King Liam’s valet. If only he could remember his name…

… Chino?

If Chino was startled before, the sight of the young prince seemed to jar him into a state of mortification, evidenced by his bloodshot green eyes growing to the size of saucers. He hastily yanked down his sleeve and wiped his tearful face, scrambling for words.

“Y-Young Master Lynt! I-I-I apologize! Oh dear, I’m so sorry! You, you should never have had to see this! I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be… Oh my stars…!” Despite his best efforts, Chino was simply too emotional to form his apology, and the more he tried to say, the more tears would roll down his beat-red face.

Lynt bit down a grimace. He may not have been fond of the overly-doting young members of the Maes family, but watching poor Chino choking on his own feelings yet being more concerned about what Lynt was thinking made his little heart ache. When Chino turned away again, likely from embarrassment, Lynt took the opportunity to sit down on the fountain next to him. Chino glanced over at him but made no attempt to move away other than putting his head down, breathing raggedly.

His face is still wet, Lynt noticed. He pulled his sleeve past his palm and gripped it in his fingers, then reached toward Chino’s cheek. He was still very puzzled about why Chino despaired so, and this was not remedied when he flinched and threw up his battered arm as if to shield his face from an attack. Neither of them moved for a few seconds, Too long, Lynt felt, until Chino finally looked at him again. He appeared to be genuinely seeing him for the first time. Lynt didn’t dwell on it, though, and slowly raised his sleeve to wipe the tears again. Chino allowed it this time, as his breathing began to take on a steadier rhythm and sounded less and less labored. No more tears escaped his eyes once he was done.

The two sat in silence for a short while, save for the occasional sniffle from the older boy. Lynt wanted to say something, but couldn’t decide on what to say. Should he ask him what was wrong? No, he’d probably brush it off as something the prince was too young to understand. Should he ask about the bruises? No, that might make him start crying again out of embarrassment, as Lynt did when was younger. Maybe it was best not to ask anything about it at all because he certainly didn’t know what Chino would say or what to do about it.

There must be something I can do to help him. But what… Oh!

Lynt gave Chino’s shirt a gentle tug to get his attention. “Nap with me?”

“W-What?” Chino asked quietly, gripping the edge of the fountain’s base, “I… I-I shouldn’t. It would be improper of me… Besides, you have already wasted enough of your precious time on me…”

Lynt frowned at the idea that someone in such clear pain would consider themselves a waste of time. That just wouldn’t do. To counteract that horrible notion, he took Chino’s considerably larger hand in his smaller one, hopped to his feet, and began walking. Chino stood and followed after him, very confused, but never once trying to pull away from the little prince.

Lynt led him the short distance back to the shade of the fragipara tree he had intended to nap under and settled down against its trunk, keeping ahold of Chino’s hand to prompt him to sit, too. He looked around nervously before he did so, albeit still tense and uneasy. Once he was seated, Lynt slung Chino’s arm over his shoulder and cuddled up to his side, pleased to discover he was quite warm, if a bit stiff. It came as no surprise when he started to feel sleepy.

“Mm… Goodnight, Chino…” Lynt muttered as he got more comfortable, barely noticing the subtle quiver he felt after saying the other boy’s name before easily drifting off.

“Erm… It’s Tino, Young Master…”

***

Back inside, the celebration continued in the birthday boy’s absence. No one seemed to mind, as there was still plenty of food to go around, the band had struck up a waltz that many noble couples were keen to engage in, and all in attendance were enjoying being in the presence of King Liam.

Speaking of Liam, he had elected to take a break from entertaining his guests and was immersed in a lively conversation with his beloved wife, Queen Norah. They had finished their dance a while ago and now stood in a corner, chatting and giggling on any topic that came to mind.

“What a marvelous day this turned out to be,” Norah chirped, “Everyone has truly outdone themselves this year. I’m particularly impressed that you haven’t snuck away to go sleep somewhere yet!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Liam said gleefully, “The banquet is divine, the music is gorgeous, and even the weather outside has remained agreeable. I daresay our son has yet to experience a more perfect birthday.”

“Hm. Incidentally, would you happen to know where Lynt’s scampered off to? It’s been some time since I saw him last.”

“Oh, a while ago he expressed to me that he fancied a nap, and I advised him of a wonderful place in the courtyard to rest his head for a spell.”

Norah looked thoughtful for a moment. “I see… Perhaps I ought to check on him. I’m sure he’s fine, but it would be best to make sure he’s well on his own, yes?”

Liam nodded, “Very well. I shall stay here and see the that guests are satisfied. Lynt should be sleeping under the fragipara tree near the fountain. Do hurry back, please and thank you.”

With another giggle, Norah placed a chaste kiss on her husband’s cheek. “I shall return anon. Don’t go slipping away for a nap of your own, alright?”

With the reassurance that he wouldn’t, Norah glided across the room to the door that led to the courtyard. She strode about the corridor at a leisurely pace, eager to see her child was alright but confident that he didn’t need immediate attention. As she rounded the corner, she caught sight of a familiar figure, one she was used to seeing pacing around anxiously and muttering to himself.

“Oh, stars above… Where could he be?”

It wasn’t unusual to see Styn engrossed in a frantic manhunt around the castle. It was unusual, however, knowing his charge wasn’t actually missing at the moment. Yet, here he was, wandering about the empty hallway and somehow looking more uptight than Norah had ever seen before.

“Styn?” She called, causing him to whirl around faster than what should be naturally possible.

“Oh! Queen Norah!” He squawked, “I-I’m dreadfully sorry for my unexcused absence at the party venue. Does His Majesty have any need of me?”

“Um, no…” Norah replied, “If it’s Liam you’re looking for, he hasn’t left the ballroom.”

“Erm, yes, I’m aware…”

Styn lapsed into silence for several seconds as his eyes darted to look at everything except the queen. Norah was aware he’d be unwilling to thrust his personal troubles onto the people he was meant to be serving, but seeing him so distressed worried her, so she felt it necessary to press the issue. “Then may I ask what it is that troubles you so?”

“Ah… I don’t wish to be any bother to you, Your Majesty.”

“Styn, please. It bothers me more to see you in such a frenzy.”

Styn was quiet for a few more seconds, then sighed in defeat. “... Er, in truth, it is not King Liam who eludes me at this time… But rather, my son.”

“Valentino?”

“Indeed. I haven’t seen him since this morning and he’s nowhere to be found anywhere in the castle. I’ve asked almost all of his cousins and the staff, but no one has seen him at the party at all!”

“Hm, that is quite worrying,” Norah conceded, “I’m afraid to say I haven’t seen him around either.”

“I’ve been searching everywhere. The kitchen, the dining room, and even the library, and guest bedrooms. It’s as if he’s simply vanished into thin air!” Styn proclaimed, growing more fidgety by the second, “Oh, Tino… I am beginning to fear that something horrible may have become of him!”

“Styn!” Norah grasped his hands gently, but firmly, “Please contain yourself. I’m certain your son is perfectly safe wherever he might have gone. Have you checked the courtyard yet?”

Styn shook his head, “N-No… I was just on my way there now, in fact.”

“Well, as it so happens, my own son should be there napping. Perhaps Valentino is watching over him as we speak. Please, allow me to accompany you. We will only find him faster if we search together.”

Styn hesitated but quickly relented, the fear for his son’s wellbeing overpowering his interest in their difference in status, “Y-Yes. Thank you, Your Majesty. Your kindness has touched my very soul this day!”

***

“Tiiiiiinoooooo! If you are nearby, I would appreciate a response! Pleeeeeeaaaaase!”

Styn’s voice echoed throughout the vast space of hedges and flowers, but no reply came no matter how many times he called. The deeper he and Norah ventured, the stronger his anxiety gripped his heart.

“Styn…” Norah interjected after a while, “May I suggest that you cease your bellowing for a time? Your voice is growing hoarse and you look close to tears.”

Styn attempted to protest, but was swiftly disrupted by a long coughing fit, “Ugh… Perhaps… A quick breather is in order…”

Norah sighed; This poor man likely wouldn’t have his voice for several days after this ordeal, “Besides, we’ve almost reached the tree my husband spoke of. Lynt will likely still be asleep if he is there, and it wouldn’t do to wake him in such a manner.”

After a few more minutes of walking, the pair of worried parents finally came across the fountain, and the tree was just in sight. Norah insisted that Styn take a moment to catch his breath while she checked in on Lynt. As he huffed and puffed for air, she made her way around the trunk of the tree, only to pause at the sight before her.

“Styn!” She whisper-shouted, putting a finger over her lips and waving him over when he turned to her again. Styn’s brow furrowed as he slowly came closer, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion pooling in his stomach.

Resting with his back against the tree was none other than Tino. To Styn’s utter astonishment, he was fast asleep, breathing deeply and steadily with his mouth slightly open and his head slightly hung to the right. Nestled under his arm was little Prince Lynt, snoring away using Tino’s stomach as a comfortable pillow. It was truly a sight to behold.

“How darling,” Norah mused, “I believe this is the first time Lynt’s ever sought a nap with a child from your house. Valentino must be special.”

Styn’s head snapped to Norah, then back at the boys. He didn’t know what to say; He hadn’t seen Tino sleep this soundly since he started his valet training, nor had he ever seen him interact with the prince without being assigned to do something for him. And yet… Both things were happening right before his eyes.

Perhaps Norah was right, and there was something special here. Styn smiled at the thought.

#court of darkness #lynt akedia #tino maes #tw abuse #deleted this and forgot to repost it

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marsipanic · 1 year

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The God’s Mark

Chapter 1 part 2

NSFW

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It took little to convince the envoys to speak on their respective kingdoms, and the neutral Isle of Colde. After a weeks’ time of preparation, Claudia sent each of them back with an invitation to their kings, that they would introduce themselves to Her Imperial Majesty, and make their intentions clear. It heavily implied that if they refused the invitation, it would be seen as hostile.

“Ensure you tell them of our army and magic, if you would be so kind,” Claudia said as she saw them through the portal. When the last of them disappeared into the light, Cordelia turned to her sister with a somewhat grim expression.

“So, we play the waiting game, now,” she said. Claudia nodded.

“There’s much work to be done in the meantime. We won’t be seeing The Ivory for some time,” she said. Lia scoffed.

“I will find time, I assure you,” she linked arms with Claudia and together they led their cavalry back to the palace.

There were accommodations to be made for the 7 Kings, and their heirs. Each of their quarters were to be resplendent, a demonstration of Zaethis’s ability to meet the satisfaction of 7 kings, and their entourage, with ease. Food needed to be imported from each duchy, and proper payment needed to be made to each. The dragons needed to be readied. Gowns were to be ordered, gifts to be decided, and the Black Guard and the army needed to be briefed.

��Grandmother, are we sure we want to go through such great lengths? If they decide they want war after such expense…”

“My dear, if we want to foster peace the best way to do it is to make an offer they couldn’t possibly refuse. And friendship with our empire is a very valuable commodity. We shall see what they offer,” Hildegard said, and patted her gently on the hand. “Now, off you go, and see to it that Cordelia has finished the report on the infirmary supplies.”

Claudia said nothing in return, and curtsied as she left, although a frown etched her face. What good could a foreign band of men who argue amongst themselves for power bring to their door? She sought out her sister and prayed to the gods that there would not be a repeat of the war their father had started, years ago. He was gone now, and Claudia and Cordelia lived, marred by much more than a sword.

The day finally came, and everything was pristine. The statues and marble glimmered, and the entire court was present in their best finery.

Claudia sat in her throne, adjacent to Hildegarde’s, which was front and middle, of course, and Cordelia sat on the opposing side.

The sisters’ gowns were coordinated, and made of a draping, exquisite, white silk, and delicate lace, adorned with an ornate silver corset, which the barest amount of skin peeked through. Pale, green gems, hung like tear drops from the skirts, and a ribboned cape of silver garland and gold cascaded from their neck and fell to the ground. They both had circlets of pearls, and lilies woven into their braided hair. Their exposed shoulders pictured a blue, swirling tattoo; The Mark of Ciris and The Mark of Euna, the source of their abilities, and the declaration that they were descendants of the Creators. Hildegarde had the Mark of Omos, God of justice and redemption, as those who ruled before bared the marks of the pantheon.

It was a far cry from their usual attire, and once again, a display. Hildegarde had the customary empress robes, an incandescent white and gold that took 15 servants to carry the train.

“Blighted thing only gets heavier with age,” Hildegarde said under her breath, as she took her place in the throne room. The sisters stifled a laugh.

As the trumpets sounded, everyone rose to their feet to greet the foreign kings.

“Look sharp, my dears,” Hildegarde whispered.

“Presenting: King Liam, of Akedia! Accompanied by; Queen Norah, and heir apparent, the Prince Lynt,” The herald bellowed.

A rather gentle looking couple came striding into the throne room, arm in arm, followed by a young man who looked as though he might sleep right where he was. The three of them had straw colored hair and green eyes.

“I daresay, is he fighting back a yawn?” Cordelia whispered.

They made their way to the platform, bowed and curtsied, before Liam stood by his assigned place at a long table, set at the front, right side. His wife and son took their place behind him, and this continued for each of the royal families who were announced.

“King Roc, of Avari! Accompanied by his heir apparent, Prince Guy!”

In strode a towering man, with long black hair, and only one crimson eye visible, as the other was covered with a patch. Beside him, was his son, sharing his father’s sharp features, and piercing expression.

“My, how they scowl,” Claudia said quietly. Cordelia put her hand delicately to her lips to stifle a giggle.

“Hush, you two,” Hildegard said, although the corner of her lips were slightly upturned.

The procession went on, until the last kingdom passed through the massive foyer.

“King Gilbert, of Qelsum! Accompanied by his heir, Prince Toa, and the Princess Idina!”

A man with an icy countenance strode in. His blue hair was twined neatly and coordinated well with his finery. The prince and princess were attractive, though, Idina had a scheming look about her.

Finally, the herald stood before them all, and introduced the hosts.

“You are in the presence of Her Imperial Majesty Hildegarde Augustine, Fifth of Her Name, Queen Defender of the People, and Empress of the Great Empire of Zaethis. On her right; Her Imperial Highness, The Princess Claudia Rebecca, First of Her Name, Captain Commander of the Black Guard, and Crown Heir Apparent. On her left; Her Imperial Highness, The Princess Cordelia Odette, Second of Her Name, Lieutenant of the Black Guard, and Imperial Scholar. All Hail!”

The court responded with a resound “Hail!”

Hildegarde glanced around, and with a satisfied nod, sat upon her throne, which prompted everyone to take their seats, thereafter. The tension and excitement in the court could have been ignited, and curious whispers could be heard within the crowded room.

“My Lords and My Ladies, I bid you a sincere welcome. I trust you have found your accommodations befitting,” Hildegard said.

King Klaus of Invidia rose to speak first.

“We are honored to be guests in your Empire, Your Majesty. Might I be the first to say, it is magnificent,” he placed a hand over his chest in a gesture of sincerity. “And I must thank you for returning all of our people to us, in one piece, after our grievous trespass.”

Roc scoffed beside him.

“Hardly,” he said. “They reported several broken limps and fingers, if I recall.”

“An unfortunate occurrence, to be sure,” Klaus interjected, nervously. “However, Her Majesty was kind enough to heal them, magically, afterwards.”

“Ah, yes,” Hildegarde mused. “You must pardon Princess Claudia for the broken limbs, as she was only doing her duty to protect her land from foreign threats, you see. And you can thank Princess Cordelia for the mending of said broken limbs. My granddaughters are dedicated to their duty and their country, I’m sure you understand.”

“Quite! And may I be the first to say, they are also exquisitely beautiful,” King Louis of Luxure, rose, tossing his lock lavender locks over his shoulder, and fluttered his long lashes. “May I inquire of each, are either of Your Highness’ betrothed?”

Claudia and Cordelia exchanged a knowing look, and covered half their faces with their handheld fans, masking the laughter that threatened to escape.

“You flatter us, My Lord,” Lia said.

“I’m afraid we have prioritized our work and devotion to the empire, in place of pursuing a spouse,” Claudia added, already tired of the conversation.

“Creating and establishing heirs is a royal priority,” Roc spoke again. “I have little patience for this flattery. We have come to offer an alliance with the Kingdom of Avari. I offer betrothal to my heir. One of your granddaughters would be Queen, and in exchange we would have use of your technology and army.”

“What the boorish fool is trying to say,” Gilbert rose from the adjacent table, and a sneer snapped over Roc’s face. “Is while we must take our time to establish ourselves as useful allies, it is expected that one of our kingdoms leave with the hand of one, or both, of your granddaughters. Might you consider?”

“I believe the princesses would enjoy Invidia, as it is a most charming place,” Klaus said, the anxiety in his expression growing by the second.

“I would be more than honored to show them the entirety of Luxure,” Louis offered.

“Oh, dear,” Liam, finally spoke, but only because Lynt had fallen asleep, and was leaning on his father for support. His valet stood behind him, looking as though he might faint, himself.

The court broke into a cacophony of whispers and murmuring, while the kings began arguing and fussing amongst themselves. Claudia looked to Cordelia, who was just as unimpressed by the whole ordeal, and then leaned forward. Marriage? To these fools?

“Grandmother, must we continue—” She started.

Hildegard all but raised one hand, and silence struck the room like lightening. The woman was still formidable, even in her old age, and her presence was unrivaled, even by the number of kings before her.

“My Lords, my granddaughters are not brainless pawns for me to give away as I wish,” she said, and the princesses’ shoulders relaxed. “They are my cherished kin, my heirs, and the most important asset of this empire. While I would value each of your kingdoms’ friendship, they have no need to be queen of your countries, as one is to be the empress of this one, and the other her Right Hand. They have power, magic, an army, and the loyalty of all who live here. You will have to offer something they do not currently have: Companionship. Romantic love.”

“What kind of foolishness is this?” Roc said, the scowl on his face deepening.

“Yes, Grandmother, do explain,” Claudia’s voice was urgent, and the panic was rising in her stomach again.

“I don’t know how you do things in your country, but in mine, it is important to find one’s life partner, at the very least, pleasant,” Hildegarde said. “I offer you all this; You and your sons may stay for a duration here in my court. You will be allowed passage back to your kingdoms, at any point, for you are guests. If, in that period, your heirs have gained the approval of either of mine, and myself, I will agree to an alliance. Our resources will also be yours.”

“Grand— Your Majesty, if we could just pause a moment—” Cordelia tried but fell on deaf ears.

“A reasonable request!” Klaus proclaimed, happily.

“A challenge, then?” Roc scoffed. “So be it.”

“Excellent,” Hildegard said. “Although, there is one matter I wish to discuss before everyone takes their leave to get ready for tonight’s festivities. Which of you summoned the portal? Our studies of it show that it was done from your world.”

Each of the kings looked at one another, expectantly, but no one came forward.

“It appears we are not sure,” Liam said, still being used as a stool for his son.

“Interesting… I suppose we shall learn, then, won’t we?”

Hildegarde rose, and dismissed the court, and all of the valets and servants began their busy work. Claudia and Lia followed the empress from the throne room, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Grandmother, you’ll forgive my insolence, but you can’t be completely serious?” Claudia asked, incredulously.

“Did you see that boy? He was asleep on his father in court.”

“And that Qelsum and Avari… I’ve seen frozen over lakes with more warmth,” Claudia added.

“My dear girls, you needn’t marry any of them if you do not wish to! Take this opportunity to build rapport with these kingdoms and learn something. If by chance, after some time, you find you’re still repulsed by the idea of marriage, we will still have gained. However, if you find that you are fond of one—”

“Grandmother, the likelihood of that happening—” Cordelia pleaded.

“—then all the more reason to have them as our guests. Now, go on, and get ready for the Welcoming Ball tonight. You will have many guests to attend to.”

Hildegarde and her valet’s left the girls standing quite stricken side by side. A fat silence lay between them, until a grim realization occurred to Claudia.

“Gods, they’re going to try and win us like a trophy, aren’t they?”

They both sighed in disgust, and marched off to their chambers, determined to get the night over with, as painlessly as possible.

#court of darkness #guy avari #toa qelsum #fanfic #cod fanfic #my ocs #The God's Mark #marsipanic

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