ABH - CH 42.5 - Interlude 6 - A Royal Decree

A/N: LMAO why is ABH so hard to keep on schedule lololol >.<

Interlude Six

A Royal Decree

Rise of Winter, Week 5, Day 5

Blonde curls fell around a woman’s face as she glared her violet eyes toward her subject. 

“Say that again.” Her voice was cold, harsh, unfeeling. It was the voice of a Queen. 

“Well—” The man bit his lip, fighting back the urge to crumble before his liege. 

“Without the stuttering this time.” She sneered. Her patience was quickly running out. 

“Duke Nemo has closed the borders of Nemo to all outsiders.” The man said, his voice faint, barely above the sound of a breath, but still Queen Esther heard him. 

“I did not give him the leeway to disturb the economy so wholly, did I?” Esther said, her voice hard as stone. 

“He, uhm—”

“The Duke declared it an official Travesty; as such, they have gone into seclusion.”

Queen Esther snapped her head to the side, looking at where the new voice came from. It was a mirror spanning floor to ceiling of the overly tall chamber. Within the reflective surface was the ghost of a woman, with eyes of violet and hair of golden flax, just like her mother. 

“Ophelia, explain.” Queen Esther demanded, ignoring the way her court hushed in fear at her tone. 

The woman in the mirror nodded, giving her mother a formal salute as she did so. “Duke Frederick used the justification that it was the direct interference of a Divine. But more than that, he announced he is soul-bound to his granddaughter. In what fashion, I have been unable to inquire.”

The Queen reared back, shock causing her practiced expression to falter and give way. “He allowed his granddaughter to be soul-bound to him?”

Princess Ophelia flinched, slightly, at the question, but nevertheless gave her best explanation. “What I have gathered is that it relates to her Affirmation. Prior to such, the Heir to Nemo was in seclusion.”

Queen Esther closed her eyes, fighting the urge to rub her temples. A Queen is only as powerful as her mask. “Seclusion for a noble heir is not odd, where is this going? I grow tired of your leading statements.” 

Princess Ophelia met her mother’s freshly opened eyes, unflinching. “I believe her Divinity is higher than her Affirmation would imply.”

It only took Esther a half a breath to understand what Ophelia was saying. “You believe there was a second descent—or, rather, that the descent of Scylla, Her Lady of Low Tydes, was the second descent.”

“I believe that such a thing is not unheard of, especially after the Fourth Light of Dawn’s Affirmation.”

“That, my daughter, is worse.” Esther pressed her lips into a tense line. “You believe the Gods are elevating Heroes.”

Ophelia remained silent, but it mattered not because the court around her mother erupted in a flurry of conversation. 

“Heroes!” 

“And two of them—”

“Dawn and Nemo hate each other—”

“What if they are meant to oppose—”

“Silence!”

A deep purple haze slipped over the chamber, causing the court to freeze once more. For all Queen Esther was not a dictator, neither was she someone to underestimate. Yet, even if the court wished to, they could not speak further. None were as Divine as the Queen, none rivaled her Domain, or matched her at the Fourth Threshold. 

None in the room anyway. 

“We will speak of this no longer! There is no proof—the Gods have been silent on the matter. You all know what it means for a Hero to appear. It means a Divine Revolution will soon be underway.”

Two dozen sets of eyes were on the Queen, and she slowly went through, meeting each pair with a sharp glare. 

“The Gods have not declared a Holy War. And even if they had, it is not of the concern of mortals. We are no longer beholden to the old ways—only our [Priests] are allowed to be drafted in a Holy War. I decreed it then, and I reaffirm it now.”

Queen Esther took a breath. 

“Besides, Heroes come in groups of four or more. There is no need to worry unless we see more anomalies.”

At that, the tense atmosphere abated somewhat. 

“Now, daughter dearest,” Queen Esther huffed a laugh, “how long do you believe your excursion will take?”

“At least the first half of Rise. While it is a shame to be missing the festivities in Oberon, there is no telling what we will find when we reach the dungeon site.”

“Be careful, Ophelia, you have but one life.” 

At that, the stoic expression that overcame Ophelia’s face broke away. “And I will not be wasting it, Queenmother.”

A ghost of a smile made its way onto Queen Esther’s face. “That counts as a Royal Decree.”

Princess Ophelia gave her mother an incredulous look. “You cannot hold me to that, you know.”

As the two women began bantering back and forth, the court let their shoulders sag in relief. Queen Esther was not the late Mad Queen Lorelei, but neither was she the Benevolent Queen Karin, nor the Divine Queen Helen. Queen Esther had no moniker. Or, rather, she had many.

Esther the Liberator had been screamed upon her ascent.

Esther the Beloved had been the call at her coronation.

Esther the Queenkiller had been her name to the court for many years. 

Esther the Forgotten was the name she chose.

And Esther the Vainglorious was the name given to her by her mother, Mad Queen Lorelei, as her head was severed from her body. 

Yet Esther still lived, she still ruled, she still protected the Peace of the Land. So, for the past century, she was simply Queen Esther. No moniker needed. 

But as the court adjourned, and as their cliques convened in the shadows, they couldn’t help but to fear what it meant for Heroes to be brought to the land of Maeve—Maeve, which was built on the corpse of a God. 

The Queen declared it a non-issue, told them to wait it out. 

But only a fool waited until his house was already flooded to redirect a river. 

And so, the Royal Court did what they excelled at: they schemed.