Shadows

Dowager Empress Arrilia Neilla drew her shoulders back, and took a short, assessing glance into the mirror. Not bad, she thought. She was still as straight and slim as she’d been in her youth, although even she had to admit that she didn’t move quite so smoothly any more. Her platinum blonde hair had faded to regal silver that was still very becoming to a woman at her stage of life. She had chosen her gown carefully for this, her final appearance as the legal ruler of the empire. After today her son, Phillip, would be officially enthroned as Emperor, and married. A new Empress would sit next to the throne Arrilia Neilla had held for the last fifteen years. Smoothing the satin skirt, she turned a little each way in front of the mirror, smiling to herself as she watched the myriad layers of pale gold tissue swirl around her. It was in this same room that she had pirouetted like this many times with Saphila; the night of their first Ball, the day each of them married; birthdays and celebrations of over fifty years. Now, she was the oldest one left: the matriarch of the family. And she was handing it all over today. With the quiet confidence of an old friend, Lennia placed the Empress’s high gold and pearl tiara onto Arrilia Neilla’s hair and pressed gently on the other woman’s shoulders. Looking into the mirror, Lennia gazed straight into her Empress’s eyes and smiled. “You did a fine job raising him, Neilla. He’ll be a strong leader like his father…and a great ruler–like his mother.” Her brown eyes filled with tears as she said it, and she dabbed at them with the corner of her veil. “Oh, now, look at me, going all maudlin on you. You’d think I’d be past that at my age.” “Our age,” Arrilia Neilla corrected her ruefully. “And I feel every day of it today. It’s not that I mind handing over to Phillip,” she said, moving across the chamber to the large oriel window and leaning her cheek against the cold stone of a pillar. “I really think he will be just fine. I just can’t help remembering when they were all children together here, running around down in the gardens.” She turned back into the room, settling the tiara firmly in place and brushing vaguely at her eyes. “It seems such a long time since we heard the sound of children’s laughter here, don’t you think?” “Well, I’m hoping that His Majesty will be remedying that in short order,” Lennia said with a laugh belying her years. “I’m sure they’ll be practicing hard anyway!” “Lennia!” Arrilia Neilla shot her a quick amused look. A gentle knock on the door was answered by Lennia, and Commander Rabenaldt entered the room. He swept his plumed hat off with a somewhat shaky bow and came towards Arrilia Neilla at the window. His thick hair had shots of gray flecking it, and his face was weathered with years in the outdoors, but he still moved with the assurance of a man in his prime. “They are ready when you are, Your Majesty,” he held his arm out to her. “Will you permit me to escort you to the Temple?” The Dowager Empress laid a slim hand on his sleeve and squeezed her thanks. Tilting her head up at him, she gazed into clear gray eyes and smiled at him. “Dearest Raik. Whatever would I have done without you and Lennia all these years?” Reaching out her other hand she took hold of Lennia’s hand, and the three of them stood together, silently remembering: the Old Guard readying to resign their commissions to the New Order. “Well, let’s get on with this then,” she said. “This Empire is ready to meet its new Emperor.” As they walked through the hallways of the Imperial Palace, Raik stole a sideways look at Arrilia Neilla, awed as always by his Empress’ beauty and strength. Clearing his throat gently, he began, “Do you want to talk about it?” “Of course.” Arrilia Neilla kept looking straight ahead, processing regally past guard and servants, acknowledging their bows and softly voiced good wishes with a smile and a nod. The Commander nodded. “Phillip thinks she’s made a great compromise available for him; a logical solution he can use to pacify the traditionalists, without too much danger of it ever being truly ne-cessary in a military capacity.” Raik smiled broadly as he thought about the situation. He’d known Jenevra almost since she was born, when he had been a young lieutenant in the party that rescued her from the warriors who killed her parents. Ever since then, she’d been more than a handful for the whole Imperial Palace, always managing to either instigate trouble, or being caught in the midst of it. If anyone could bring the new Empire to its knees, she would be the one he would place money on. Of course, she wouldn’t mean to do it. Jenevra always did things with the best of intentions; they just rarely finished the way she thought they would. “Damn!” Arrilia Neilla swore under her breath, bringing Raik’s attention back to the present. “Why is she doing this? I don’t understand why she has to be Imperial Protector. “You didn’t tell her no, did you?” Raik sounded troubled. “I thought you’d come round to the idea?” “No,” Arrilia Neilla sighed slightly. “I actually told her to sort out a formal uniform.” Raik’s eyes widened, twinkling with amusement as she continued, “Lennia and I took her to see Searcy Proche’s old outfit … just for an idea of what to model hers on.” “You didn’t!” “Ah, Raik, why couldn’t she choose something less provocative?” “The outfit?” “Don’t be silly! Another role. Why Imperial Protector? It’s never been anything but bad luck. Didn’t they teach her meditation or obedience to duty, or something useful on that island?” “I think you’ll find that this is obedience, or duty, in Jenevra’s eyes, Majesty.” Raik was serious now. “She’s actually working with the new Flight already, and I have to say she’s doing pretty well. You saw her lead them in yourself; at least they’re following her. And, I understand from one of my Brogan that she’s managed to severely impress most of them already. We’ve talked with her and with Phillip about what she’s doing, and the plan she has for the Flight is logical. So is her role as Imperial Protector, really. She is the youngest, there are two males ahead of her in line to the throne; by all standards, and by tradition, she is the most expendable member of the Imperial family.” Arrilia Neilla stopped, dug her nails into Raik’s arm in sudden anger, and turned flashing eyes on him. “No member of my family is ever expendable!” she hissed between clenched teeth. “Do you imagine I buried half of my family, just to have some foolish child decide who is and is not worthy of being part of it?” Snatching her hands together in fury, she stalked off down the hallway towards the great doors of the Palace. Raik’s long stride soon caught her and, matching her pace, he tried again. “You know that’s not what I meant. Besides, Phillip told me that the Protectorship really was his idea, and he had to convince Jenn to take it.” He nodded at Arrilia Neilla’s disbelieving look. “I believe him Neilla. Plus, the Order has some agenda in all of this, I’m certain. Jenevra’s following a plan they’ve set down, although I’m not sure if she’s even aware of it. I do know that those who have sworn themselves to the Order place nothing above it … nothing. Not even family.” His mouth twitched as he glanced across at the woman he loved beyond all else. Devotion was something he understood only too well. He also knew that Jenevra’s safety wasn’t the only thing about this that bothered Arrilia Neilla. “You’re just mad that you won’t be controlling it all from now on.”