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Papa sat on his towering throne, the power of the empire contained within him. Wide and tall even while seated, his dominance hung heavy in the air. He’d told Naya plenty of times that he took these seasonal audiences very seriously and saw them as a reflection of the state of his empire. Mama sat next to him on her matching throne. Warmer than her husband, she tended to help citizens relax under the pressure of the weaponry surrounding them, but during negotiations, she was sharp and equally as formidable as her husband.
Naya settled in the throne between them and lifted her gaze to look over the hall. Her heart dropped.
Despite how quiet it was, the enormous hall was almost full. Usually during these seasonal meetings, citizens from across the Lox Empire came to discuss problems and issues, but it was still unusual for the Great Hall to be so full. Unease crept into her. Something must have happened. Maybe that’s why she’d been summoned? As if she hadn’t already fucked things up enough.
Auntie Vic stood to the right of the thrones holding a long scroll. As High Steward, she oversaw all administration, accounts, and events related to the palace and the imperial couple. She was the smiley light to Uncle Torin’s stoic gray. It was almost impossible to believe they were a fated couple. Next to her, a scribe leaned over a piece of parchment, writing down the outcomes of each issue discussed.
Auntie Vic saw Naya and cleared her throat. “Princess Nayara Andaus, daughter of Drocco and Cailyn Andaus?—"
Naya shook her head, and Auntie Vic cleared her throat again. “Welcome,” she said simply. “The citizens in the region of Saderthorne have requested your assistance.”
Nayara glanced at Papa, trying to calm the trembling in her stomach that was turning nauseous.
Auntie Vic lifted a hand and beckoned to the crowd. “Mr. Vargis, please come forward with your request.”
A man pushed to the front of the crowd. Everything about him looked crumpled, from his shabby tunic to his expression. From his paler skin tone, she surmised he was a villager from the southern area of Saderthorne, a territory that bordered the wastelands.
A cold dread clawed up her spine, a sinister whisper in the back of her mind that told her she shouldn’t have come, and it turned her veins to ice.
“Greetings, Imperial Princess.” Even his voice was crinkly and uneven, as though it had been scrunched down and stretched wide. Held in the grip of her own horror, her breath slowly being pressed out of her, she couldn’t respond.
He cleared his throat, his face crumpling even more, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “As you know, Your Highness, our town was destroyed six years ago.” He gestured vaguely behind him and Naya’s dread clamped down on her lungs, her eyes flitting over the crowd.
So many villagers from south Saderthorne stood with him—they were the ones filling the hall.
“We were forced to relocate to the two other cities in Saderthorne and leave our village behind.” He paused and then stuttered out the next few words. “I-I’m sorry. I know you know this already.” He took a breath. “It has been… more than difficult. There wasn’t space for us, and we had nothing of worth to offer those we imposed on. It caused a lot of upset and anger for the city folk. Can’t blame them. And most of us were raw, still suffering from the heartache of losing our children, family, friends... our entire way of life.” The man’s voice faltered, and many heads bowed, grief connecting each person in the hall.
The memories descended with ruthless precision. The cloying stench of burning flesh returned to her inhale, blinding white light blazed once again into her eyes. The desperate pleas and cries and wails from those ripped apart deafened her. She could see their bodies, strewn all over the dusty ground, multiple pieces twitching, smearing the dark red, congealed puddles underneath them, yet they still screamed, their brains not yet realizing they were already dead.
And then there was Lili.
The horror clawed at her, threatening to engulf her. Naya wanted to scream and relieve the hot shame scalding every nerve, but she still couldn’t move.
After a moment, the man swallowed and continued, “We have finally settled into new homes, and are we coping. But the wasteland is still expanding, Your Highness. Dangerous magic spreads in the south and it is moving quickly.” The villager blinked, his eyes drifting to both the emperor and empress, before snapping back to Naya. “We fear for our new homes and the remainder of our families. The city folk are less fearful—they brush it off. They say if it was a problem, then you would already be there dealing with it. But with the greatest respect to you, my future queen, they haven’t experienced what we have. We are nervous.”
He stepped forward visibly trembling. “We humbly request that you return with us to consider solutions for this problem.”
Naya closed her eyes and focused inward, like her healer taught her to. Slowly she calmed her shaky and erratic breath until it was smooth and long. She opened her eyes. “I’ve already tried that.”
Her mother’s head turned toward her.
The villager shifted his weight, clearing his crinkled throat. “Uh. We know. But we have no other ideas to stop it, Your Highness. It is spreading faster now. From one of the cities, we can now see white bolts of wild magic on the horizon most nights. With your connection to magic we thought…. We would be grateful if you could try again.”
Try again? Was he insane? Naya swept her gaze over the crowd and then picked a spot on the opposite wall, over the heads of all the people, and said nothing, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
“Please,” the villager rasped, scratching through the silence.
Naya swallowed, inhaling smoothly, and remained silent. This time, the silence extended longer than she thought it would, and both of her parents’ eyes turned to her.
“Princess Naya,” Auntie Vic said, finally. “Do you have an answer for Mr. Vargis?”
Naya didn’t remove her gaze from the back wall. “I don’t.”
Auntie Vic’s voice was halting. “Will you visit Saderthorne?”
“No.”
The air seemed to drain from the room, leaving a dry, bitterness in its wake. None of the villagers dared speak, but their collective disappointment throbbed through the room. Naya could almost feel the harsh edge of Papa’s annoyance with her, but he said nothing, and neither did Mama.
