Kingsbane
In that moment—singular and bright, held carefully in time like a single drop of rain balancing on the edge of a trembling petal—she was simply a girl on her wedding day and was unbearably, unthinkably happy.
50
Eliana
“His Excellency Ravikant, Admiral of the Imperial Fleet, Loyal Servant to His Majesty the Emperor of the Undying, invites you to the city of Festival on October 4, to partake in the Jubilee to be held in his honor, to celebrate His Excellency’s naming day, and to commemorate the arrival of imperial forces that did seize this kingdom and began the great work of restoring it to its previous angelic glory. Attendance is not required but is strongly encouraged.”
—Invitation to the Admiral’s Jubilee, sent to all citizens of Festival and surrounding territories September 14, Year 1018 of the Third Age
The day before the Jubilee passed in a blur of nerves and preparation. Red Crown operatives flitted through the mansion like birds, carrying messages and supplies. Dani’s sons clomped upstairs and downstairs, rushing plates of food to everyone working. Rain beat yet again on the windows, which no one was happy about, for mud made everything more easily trackable.
And through all of this, Eliana rested, stewing.
She had been ordered to rest by Simon, and then had scolded him roundly for ordering her to do anything, and then, after he had obeyed her command to leave her alone for a while, she had chastised herself into admitting he was right. She did need to rest. Fighting Rielle had left her considerably drained, as had the trip through time. Her power felt far from her, buried beneath layers of stone. And Simon himself was resting in his own room, which had become a war chamber, everyone hurrying to and from with messages for him, rolled-up maps of the city, weapons to be inspected and approved.
Logically, Eliana knew that the longer each of them rested, the more successful their next attempt to travel back to the Old World would be.
But that didn’t make the agony of sitting idly, waiting for time to creep on, any less agonizing.
In the late afternoon, Dani came to Eliana’s room and found her cross-legged on the floor, cleaning her knives. Remy sat squashed in an armchair near the window, writing out phrases in Old Celdarian for her to study.
Dani leaned against the door frame. “I’m not sure those knives could get any cleaner if you worked on them for another hundred years.”
Eliana had barely glanced up when Dani arrived. It was a strangeness unmatched in her very strange life to adjust to the new reality of the world—Jessamyn gone, Dani’s husband gone, the house changed just enough to leave her feeling unbalanced, and no one but her and Simon noticing the difference. Several times during the last few hours, she had had to bite her tongue to keep from pulling Patrik away from his work to sit him down and tell him everything she knew about Jessamyn, curious if it would trigger some faint, warped memory inside him.
But Simon had cautioned her against doing so. It would only confuse things, he warned. It would only further muddy the waters they had already muddied by traveling to the past.
“Time travel has many repercussions, some of which even I don’t understand,” he had told her, fussing about her room, needlessly straightening furniture and pillows and her strewn-about clothes. “It’s not an act to be taken lightly.”
As if she took anything lightly in this world. As if she had ever been given the chance to.
She had lost hold of her slipping patience and ordered him out of her room. Never mind that she recognized his needless fussing as a manifestation of energy as nervous as her own. Afterward, she’d stormed across the floor in an ugly temper, unsure where to direct her anger and settling at last on everything. Then her mind, apparently eager to hurt itself, had wandered to Harkan, and she’d had to sit on the edge of her bed, very still, breathing slowly, for it felt like any sudden movement would throw her completely into chaos.
She wondered how he was faring, wherever he was stationed in the city—with Zahra, and Viri and Catilla, and all the recruits that had been assigned to them. Or had those disastrous few moments in the past ruined everything for Harkan’s team? Were they at this very moment walking into a trap? Were they already dead?
And now Dani was standing in her door, seemingly determined to strike up a conversation.
“I would really rather be alone right now, Dani,” Eliana said, bearing down hard on Nox’s curved, flat blade.
“Except for me,” Remy added from across the room.
“Except for Remy,” Eliana agreed.
“Well, I’m afraid you’ve got to tolerate me for at least a little while,” said Dani. “I’ve dug up one of my old gowns for you, and it just might fit.”
• • •
Eliana had to admit that it was a splendid gown.
A deep crimson across her neck, shoulders, and arms, fading gradually to pure, glittering onyx at the hem. A high neckline in the front, and long sleeves that clung to her arms as if they had been painted there. In the back, the snug bodice opened wide, a broad V that left most of her back exposed and came to a point at the dip of her hips. The fabric was light enough for her to twist easily, but boasted an array of intricate beadwork that caught the light when she turned. Ester and Patrik had sewn various cleverly concealed pockets into the wide skirts, each pocket narrow but deep, for housing her knives. And the skirts themselves flowed and twirled as she walked and spun, allowing for easy movement. The boots Dani had found for her were a bit dull, but supple and sturdy.
She disapproved of only two design elements: the caps of black feathers on the sleeves, and the fact that the beadwork spanning the gown had been sewn in the shapes of feathers as well.
“Can we at least remove the sleeve feathers?” Eliana said, ruffling them with a frown. “They’re rather angelic.”
“That’s the idea.” Dani bustled about, instructing Ester where to pin and pointing out what needed adjusting. “Everyone at these parties tries to reference angels as many times as possible in their wardrobe. It flatters the angels and demonstrates to them that you buy into the whole thing.”
“The whole thing?” Eliana asked.
“The Empire. Their perpetual, world-spanning rule. You know. The whole thing.”
Ester looked back, mouth full of pins. “Oh, is that what you call it?”
“I could call it other things, but I’m trying to curb my foul language,” Dani said.
“Whatever for?”
“You know, now that I think about it, I can’t remember why I ever decided that. So, fuck it.” Dani put her hands on her hips, inspecting Eliana from hem to hair. “You look beautiful, at least. That’s a joy for my tired eyes. We’ll have to do something with your hair though. You can’t wear that messy braid every day of your life.”