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Peering at the Commander, I wondered if he'd known of the Prince's intentions or if he'd known I'd never stopped loving his son. Stark met my eyes for the briefest moment, and then, for the first time since we'd met, he averted his eyes from mine, taking a step back from me.
Waving his hand to indicate he was ready, Luther brought my attention back to the matter at hand. The guard by the door signaled to my uncle he could enter now. Ravid came forward, Vered slightly behind him. They both dropped to knee. "Prince Saboa, I am Ravid of Larmoyer. I come in peace and to offer an alliance. This is my son, Vered."
"I will hear your petition," Luther responded, folding his hands on his lap.
Ravid nodded. "May I greet our princess?" Luther nodded but tensed when Ravid stepped forward.
Placing a restraining hand on Luther's shoulder, I stepped forward to the edge of the step. Physical interaction was the norm for Avalonians.
Stepping forward, Ravid bowed to his waist, taking my hand and kissing it like he would his king. "Princess Zira, it is good to see you well. I was worried with the news that reached us of last week's events. We flew directly to offer our support and aid, whatever can be of use."
Waiting until he stood straight, I stepped forward and hugged him. "Thank you, Uncle. It gave me much relief to see you breathing." Then, pulling back, I looked at Vered. "Cousin, you've grown to be handsome like our fathers."
Vered stepped forward, embracing me warmly. "When we heard you'd been stabbed, I was ready to storm the Barbarian's palats and try for that savage's head by myself," Vered announced loudly, forgetting protocol. Until Ravid slapped him up the back of his head. Vered ducked his head, blushing. "My apologies, Princess." He bowed, kissing my hand. "I'm glad you're safe."
Smiling, I patted Vered's hand and stepped back. Moving to my place by Luther, who was watching warily, I exhaled with relief.
"Very well, let's get on with this," Luther grumbled.
"It's straightforward, Prince Saboa. The Princess is the rightful heir. With the Barbarian's underhanded attack, we believe, you will be looking to put an end to things. We'd like to offer you our knowledge of his setup and the men of the rebellion to aid any attack you plan. We have loyalists inside the Avalonian palats feeding us intel daily, and we have the forces."
"If you have the forces, why have you not ended this war years ago?"
"Because we don't have her," Vered spoke, pointing at me. When his father indicated he should back up, Vered hung his head with a grumble and did so.
"Prince Saboa, we are people of certain… abilities. Our throne cannot sit empty, and the ruler must be recognized by the throne for the war to end. The throne has never recognized Abaddon, so to kill him is not enough. Others will just go to war to try for the throne. It is why Abaddon wants our princess. It has nothing to do with heirs and everything to do with his claim. The throne will recognize him if she stands with him. It is her blood that powers that throne."
Luther stood suddenly, looking at Ravid intently. "Her blood… her bloodline powers your throne?" Ravid nodded. "That is why the royal womb must produce the next heir; he must possess her blood."
Ravid nodded hesitantly. "The throne will accept a male heir, yes, but it is making do. If we are to see Avalonia come into its full power, then it must have the true heir sitting on the throne."
"True heir? As in not a half-breed son of mine?" Luther growled.
"As in, not a son, Prince Saboa." Ravid licked his lips at Luther's sudden surprise. "The throne has been waiting for the daughter to take control. It is the females who hold the true power and whose blood is purest. But, unfortunately, our people are sexist, so they have put the male heir on the throne and treated the princess abominably. It's time to change things, to give our people their true heir. Princess Zira needs to be the one to take the throne, and her daughter needs to inherit it from her."
"Mother to daughter succession?" Luther sat amazed.
"It will meet with some abhorrence. But if we can get the throne to recognize Zira before the elders can put her back in her place as an incubator, then we have a chance of forcing this change on them."
"If Zira is Queen of Avalonia, and I am the ruler here, I see a few problems."
Ravid licked his lips again. He'd thought it all through and tried his best to meet every argument with a solution that got Luther to see what truly needed to happen. "Once the throne recognizes her, the Queen can appoint a caretaker. It's what the elders will do to await a son to rule. That way, your companion can be by your side and delegate until your daughter is old enough to take on the role as princess."
Luther sat back, considering for several minutes. Then, taking out the blood-stained dice, Luther cast them on the side table. He studied them, nodding his head, collected them, and threw them again. He shook his head at whatever he saw. "What you propose makes perfect sense. I think I understand your explanation about the royal womb's true purpose, but I cannot act on this impulsively. Return to my wife's estate for the night. I will think about it, and tomorrow we shall see where we can work together."
"Thank you, Prince Saboa." Ravid dropped to a knee, Vered followed his father's lead. "Princess." They bowed their heads, then rose up and left the throne room.
Taking a deep breath of relief when I could no longer see them, I relaxed. Luther stayed sitting on his throne for several more minutes. Eventually, he stood, collecting his dice. "Stark, get washed up and report to my office. Erhaird, I want more information on what Ravid has claimed about the throne and its blood link. Go." Erhaird was running out of the room, Stark a step behind him as they ran ahead.
Luther looked me over once, then turned, walking for the doors without another word. As expected, I followed behind him, but the walk back to the residence was as silent as our coming. When we reached quarters, Luther walked towards his office but pointed to the inner quarters. Jervaise took my elbow, guiding me to the inner quarters without a word.
Sitting on the sofa, I stared at my hands for possibly half an hour before Jervaise couldn't stand it anymore. "Do you want to be queen, Princess?" I shook my head. "But you want your daughter to be queen one day?"
Looking up, I met his eyes. Suddenly, I realized just how intuitive the elite was. It made sense; they needed to foresee people's actions. That sixth sense made them better at their job. Jervaise focused his eyes on my lips like every other Cyran.
"Yes. I don't believe the males should hold the succession, but only on our planet. I don't wish to change it here. Outside of Avalonia, succession relies on physical strength and intelligence. Avalonia, it isn't your arms that will save you. It's this" –I tapped my head— "and this." Holding my arm out, ribbons of razor wire braided around my limb. Jervaise's eyes went wide.
Tucking my power away, I dropped my arm to my side. "I don't want my daughter to be treated like I was, or like my mother was, or her mother. If the female line is so important, they should be put on a pedestal, not wrapped in restraints then disposed of when they serve their purpose."
