Balle, Day 7 (2)

Sometime near evening, Sur Ka'iser entered the library with an apathetic bow of his head in respect for the both of them. "The Su'Datheram requires your presence, Su'Adrit." He straightened, solemn as ever and poorly disguising a grimace. "In council."

Verinia's heart nearly shot out of her mouth.

She had only ever been called to council twice in her time as Lady of Light Tower and both times had been to discuss the matter of her siblings' marriages.

Heavens, she could barely remember what the room looked like, but she could hold some semblance of what would be discussed there since women were not allowed to partake in politics or civil leadership.

Had her time to be married off come already? She knew she was several turns too late, but she and her father had made a deal between them. He would not marry her off until she had betrothed all three of her sovereign siblings.

Surely the Su'ne hadn't decided that her duty as Su'Adrit should end so quickly? Or perhaps her father had come to that decision on his own. Heavens knew how temperamental he could be, and he was not fond of her.

"We will end here for today," she remarked, setting her things down slowly.

Across the table, Syvia was looking at her in fear and trepidation. Would her eldest sister, who had been a mother to her, be carted off to the hands of a man to provide heirs?

It had to be said that men were not particularly graceful when choosing husbands for their daughters. They were greedy, thinking only of profit, and though her pure nobility made her only eligible to marry within the highest ranks of the Eight Houses, there were cruel men amongst the transcendent blood as well.

Verinia could fall into the hands of any one such man if she was not careful, therefore, she was forced to put on all airs to please her father so that he would not go back on his word.

The sound of her own thick blood flowing at the pace of a snail through her veins fell loudly to her ears as they traversed the glistening tops of the palace's sandstone floors.

Besides the members of council or ministry officers, no one but messengers entered the Hall of Legislature.

Its cavernous corridor seemed ominous in its solitude, with enormous wooden vaults crossing the high ceilings, dulling the light from the refractor plates and echoing the silence that was present. It nearly seemed abandoned.

It was anything but.

The high doors with the sigil of the council carved into them seemed to want to eat her as she stood before them. Perhaps that would be preferable to whatever was awaiting her inside the council room.

"Verinia," her father acknowledged her presence unenthusiastically once she'd showed her respects with a bow of her head. "I intend to name another to the throne."

Alarm swept through the First Princess's body in an uncontrolled wave that slackened her jaw.

Where would he find a second heir? It couldn't possibly be from his harem? His second daughter hadn't given birth yet, either.

The cold, slurry blood within her body began to compact into ice until her scalp tingled.

"You already have an heir, My Sovereign." Her voice was impassive even if she was completely panicking in the inside.

Both of her hands, which were hidden in the wide sleeves of her dress, curled into tight fists until her nails snuggled into the crescent lesions that had just begun to heal under the bandages covering her tender palms.

The Su'Datheram paid her no mind, as usual. What did he need to explain to a woman, much less his own daughter? Bah! He owed no explanations to no one.

"I will need another to secure my line's claim to the throne," he said easily, as if it were the most reasonable thing to say in the world.

Verinia didn't dismiss the way he had constructed his sentence. First of all, since when did the Sovereign need anything? Second of all, what was he securing his line's claim to the throne for?

Her little brother's coronation as the Shadow of the Throne fell within the natural line of succession, which remained undisputed and undisturbed since the establishment of New Oalta's sovereignty.

By the Maker's tattered sandals—Halen's sole ascension was the will of the gods! If another was named to be second successor, it would complicate everything!

So who in the blistering Hells—?

Her nails dug deeper into her palms. Pain bloomed through her hands and they began to tremble. "Who, Your Effulgent Majesty?"

"My son with the Su'ni Viola Grandpire."

Verinia's eyes flew wide before she could conceal them, drawing the eyes of every man seated at the table in front of her.

It really wasn't shock for the fact that her father had yet another son. No, no, no—that wasn't it at all!

He had a son outside of the harem!

And Viola Grandpire? The name couldn't escape her wits either! She had heard that name so many times since she had been a child, it was almost carved into her ears.

Viola Grandpire had been one of her late mother's best friends. Her closest friend and only confidant once the eldest sister of Su'na Joss Darienis was married off to another country to become Empress.

They had grown up together. They were like sisters, but suddenly, Viola left to return to her husband's estate once he fell ill and never returned.

And now Verinia was hearing that she had birthed her father's son?

Which meant that he wanted to—he wanted—

…Oh, Narunel's serpents, she was going to faint! She couldn't stand up anymore! Her knees were dissolving into a puddle of rainwater under the intense gazes of every single man sitting in the room except for her father's

Keep it together. She had to keep it together and pull through.

Wasn't it just one more brother?

'No!' She screamed inside her own mind. 'Not one more brother! A bastard!'

Verinia wanted to vomit. She bit her cheeks and kept her face within the limits of her carefully crafted mask.

The Su'Datheram leaned back in his seat languidly. Not once had he raised his head from the parchments in his hands to look at her. "They arrive with their company tomorrow. You will welcome them to the palace."

Like Hells!

But it wasn't a question. If she disagreed or showed open displeasure, not only would she disgrace her father in front of the Council of Eight, she would disgrace herself as well.

Discussing with the Sovereign in private was one thing, but in public? She could only choke on her grievances and smile like an obedient little lamb.

A blizzard of words lurched up to her throat from the depths of her heart and crashed into each other in a miserable, painful wreck.

If she were a man, she could object.

Hells, if she were a man, the throne would be hers. But she wasn't. She was a woman. A woman five turns past marriageable age who that rotten father of hers wouldn't hesitate to sell off according to his own convenience.

How she yearned to release a deafening scream.

From the open windows, a burst of wind speared into the room, setting all of the parchments set out on the table astray. All of the servants standing by the corners of the room hurried forward to catch the parchments and return them to the table in an orderly manner.

The Sovereign finally waved his daughter away with a mere flick of his hand, dismissing her as if she were a servant as well. His entire face was turned away from her, as it always was.

Verinia swallowed her rage and bowed her head one more time. She decided that it wouldn't do to anger the Sovereign. Experience had taught her the dark lesson that having his eyes on her was infinitely worse than being ignored by him.

The scar by the corner of her eyebrow began to burn.

As if she needed a reminder. Anyway, she had more pressing things to be concerned with.

The First Princess tried to discard her distress for a moment in favour of more pressing duties. But the more she discussed with the Su'ira Chamberlain, House Velnue's heir, the living arrangements of the newcomers, the worse she felt.

If her father was going to acknowledge that bastard as a second successor, it could only mean that he was planning to marry Viola Grandpire or at the very least make her a concubine.

Never, in the recorded history of New Oalta, had there been a child of the harem as an heir to the throne.

There were simply some things that were not done.

A Su'Ailfi would bear at least one son at all costs, and he would inherit the seat of Sovereign. If the current Su'Ailfi could not give birth to a son, she would be killed and the next Su'Ailfi would do it.

Only those who successfully bore heirs were placed in the Hall of Dynasty. The others, who were killed, would be buried along the wall of the palace and forgotten by time.

Su'Ailfi Ravena Hellfryne had died giving birth to a son for a greedy man who claimed to have loved her, when in reality he had sired a son with her closest friend in secret!