Empress of the Sun
Okay, I'm indulging my love of medieval fantasy with this AU fic, and I hope my readers enjoy it as much as I do. Before I begin, a few notes:
This fic has no definite historical period counterpart, so I may be mixing a few things from different time periods in here. Due to that, while nobility could be married as young as twelve or thirteen in medieval periods, I'm raising the standard marriage age in this fic to fifteen or sixteen (let's say for birthing purposes, as very young mothers did not tend to do well when giving birth in those times). However, there will be cases where people younger than that may be betrothed or married, but not have it consummated until they are older, which did happen occasionally when there was a need for a marriage but one or both participants were deemed too young.
The fic is set in a completely fictional land, so I claim the right of occasionally fudging things such as titles under the fact that people may be ranked differently here. Just to make it clear, so that's there no confusion early in the fic, children of emperors and empresses are ranked as high princes/princesses, whereas the children of kings and queens are simply princes or princesses, an idea that I'm borrowing from the titles of the Russian Tsars – the titles of their daughters were translated as 'grand duchess', but would more accurately be 'grand princess', as they were of a higher rank than the daughters of kings and queens. In the case of Edward, as his mother had a royal title in her own right, he is officially addressed as "Your Royal and Imperial Majesty" instead of just "Imperial Majesty" (a bit of a mouthful, but it's a title used in real life as well). In private, his servants address him as either Your Highness/Majesty, purely because of authorial fiat in that I find writing gets very stilted when using such long titles for informal occasions.
And, finally, I do not own the characters, as they are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No profit is being made from this fic, and no infringement is intended.
Edward
It was said that the sun itself mourned whenever its Emperor died, and would refuse to show itself in its full glory until its new ruler was crowned. Yet as I stared through the ornate glass window, watching as the gleaming coffins of my mother and father were borne away with their long procession, on their long journey to the crypt where the sovereigns of our empire and their consorts had been laid to rest for hundreds of years, I could not help but notice how the sunshine shone on the gilded handles of my parents' coffins, making a mockery out of the grief I was doing my best not to show. I glared at the sky, wishing that it would turn grey and shower the procession with rain - a childish wish, perhaps, but one I felt free to express as I stood there, watching my parents on their final journey.
It was not right. My father should still be on his throne, the heavy crown of the Empire of the Sun still resting on his brow. And I – I should still be wearing the white gold crown of the Crown Prince, the heir that had years to come to the throne, the son that had never imagined that he might lose one of his parents so soon, the child that would never sit on a throne whilst his parents' bones lay cold under the marble floor of St. Sasha's Chapel.
Angrily, I rubbed my eyes, hoping that my companions would not notice. My brother and sister were riding at the head of the funeral procession, but the Emperor never attended such ceremonies. The imperial person being so close to that of the dead was said to invite bad luck and ruin on their reign, and so, even though I had not yet been crowned, I was left to watch the procession from an upstairs window in the palace. The last time I had seen my parents, it had been at my father's bedside, listening to him gasp out his last words as his grip on my hand slackened. He had never been strong, my father, and when the news came that the summer fever afflicting him had already taken the empress, he seemed to lose all will to fight it. No sooner had his eyes drifted shut than I was pulled away from him, urged out of the room before my closeness to his corpse could taint my future reign.
My reign. The words sounded heavy in my head, and I leaned against the glass, welcoming the coolness as a distraction against the turmoil of my thoughts. When I was younger, I never thought that I would take the Golden Throne. That responsibility was to have been laid at Emmett's feet, while I was to have been a scholar, studying at the greatest of our universities, and perhaps an ambassador to the other kingdoms. But I had not been at my studies for more than a year when Emmett caught sight of the Princess Rosalie, heir to the fiercely independent kingdom of Hale. They had fought tirelessly against any attempted invader, and refused to have Hale become part of the Empire of the Sun when Rosalie's father died. Instead, Emmett had given up his right to the throne, and now, while he rode alongside my father's coffin with Rosalie, I was left to take up the heavy burden instead.
"Are you well, Your Highness? You have been glaring at that window for seven minutes now – did it offend you?"
I tore my gaze away from the glass, embarrassed that any resentment of Emmett might be shown on my face. The speaker smiled gently at me, his pale green robe the only sign of colour against the sea of mourning black that I had been accustomed to since my parents' death. Master Carlisle, the imperial physician, had long been a friend of my father, and I knew that he had worked tirelessly, if hopelessly, against the illness that had taken his life. His wife, the Lady Esme, sat in a corner, her sweet face filled with concern as she looked up at me, waiting for an answer.
"No, Carlisle. Forgive me – my thoughts have been…distracted of late."
"Do not be foolish, your highness," Lady Esme reprimanded as she laid aside the embroidery she had been working at and folded her hands in her lap. "The loss of your father is a wound to the entire empire, and the tears we shed for his loss will never truly heal the grief that has been left since his loss. But even so, the loss of a father must strike just as hard…as well as that of a mother."
I nodded, watching as the lamplight gleamed off of the golden threads worked among the black silk of her mourning gown, signifying that she grieved for an emperor. The entire court had been swathed in similar fabric since my father's death was announced, but few had chosen to wear the string of pearls that Lady Esme wore, the accepted mourning display for the empress-consort. My mother's death had been overshadowed in the mourning for my father, but Lady Esme had been a close friend as well as one of Mother's numerous ladies-in-waiting. It had been she who dressed my mother's body in the gold silk gown, arranged her hair and daubed the oil on her hands, so that Mother would still appear the youthful and beautiful Empress even as she was carried to her tomb.
Carlisle came to stand behind me, his face reflected in the polished glass of the window as we both watched the funeral procession snake its way through the palace gates, towards the chapel where the bodies would be buried. "Esme speaks the truth. There is no shame in mourning for a father, and certainly none in grieving for an emperor. Your sister weeps freely as she rides – let yourself do the same. There are none who would judge you."
I laughed, the sound harsh and bitter even to my ears. "None to judge me? I find it strange that you would say that, Carlisle, when the ambassador for the Volturi Empire waits to be received. Unless you would have me believe that the snake has sheathed its fangs with the loss of its enemy."
Carlise's face turned grim. "No, your highness. Emperor Aro was your father's enemy, and your grandfather's before that, and his hatred outlived them both. He has not forgotten the defeat your grandfather inflicted on him…nor has he set aside his grudge over what he sees your father's last insult."
I ran a hand through my hair, thankful that, for now at least, I had no crown to bear. "Surely he did not believe that Father would allow Alice to wed the High Prince Alec? The rumours about he and his twin-"
"Are just those – rumours", Carlisle said firmly. Before his appointment as the imperial physician, he had spent time in the Volturi Empire, studying at their universities and even being received at the Volturi court. Few in my imperial court would know the rulers of the Volturi as well as he did, so I held my tongue and listened. "No matter how distasteful the mutterings, you know as well as I that a marriage between the two empires would bring stability to all the land-"
"Or plunge it into greater war," I said bluntly, shaking my head. "Great-Aunt Sulpicia's marriage to Aro bought Grandfather a truce with him, but now each and every one of his children has a claim to the Golden Throne after myself and Alice, and they've been eyeing it hungrily since Grandfather's death. Any closer ties, and they'll be using the children of that marriage as figures for rebellion at the first sign of any discontent in my reign. I can't let that happen, Carlisle."
Carlisle inclined his head in acknowledgment of my words, but Lady Esme still looked troubled. "A war between the two empires is the last thing that anyone in your court would want, Your Highness – but High Princess Chelsea does have a valid claim to the Golden Throne, as do all of her siblings, nephews and nieces. With Prince Emmett's abdication, you and High Princess Alice are all that stands against their quest for the throne."
Her unstated meaning rang clear in the air, and I folded my arms, wishing I did not feel so wretchedly tired. "You wish for me to take a wife."
She pursed her lips, glancing at Carlisle. "The whole court has longed for it, your highness, since your brother refused the throne. Your father had ensured an heir in the form of Prince Emmett before your grandfather died, and he was crowned alongside your mother, at the start of a glorious reign. High Princess Alice is unmarried, and you yourself have no heirs. The both of you should be moving to secure your line, and the common people whisper that there should be a new empress crowned with the Golden Emperor, if only because they remember how trade improved when your parents' marriage sealed an alliance between the empire and the Kingdom of Masen. And the Volturi ambassador appearing at such a time…They will want to test your weaknesses, but Emperor Aro has six daughters and any number of granddaughters that he would gladly see on a throne besides you. You may be sure of having one offered…and I fear what excuses may have to be offered so that we do not offend them in your refusal."
She was right, of course. I imagined the portraits that would be brought forth by the ambassador, the numerous visages that would be unveiled before me. All would be beautiful, with porcelain skin and the dark eyes that the Volturi imperial family was famous for, and all of those lovely dark eyes would have a greedy glint in them at the thought of Emperor Aro's grandchild or great-grandchild being crowned the Golden Emperor. I had no intention of allowing any such thing, and that left me with only one option.
I would have to choose a bride of my own, a new empress who would be crowned beside me and provide me with children who could secure the throne against the Volturi Empire. Truly, an unromantic aspiration that went against the ideal of love that was so extolled in songs and stories, but I had no choice. I would not allow any of the Volturi family to sit on the throne my grandfather and father had worked so hard to safeguard from them.
A wife. An empress. Many women had been offered for my hand over the years, and now that I was soon to ascend the imperial throne, I knew that there would be many more. But which one would I choose?
Seeing my discomfort, Lady Esme rose to her feet, smoothing down her gown. "Ambassador Eleazar is here to pay his respects, your Highness. Would you have us call him in?"
I nodded, giving the window one last glance. "Instruct him to gather the offers. It's time I choose a bride."
"Are you sure about this, your Highness?" Eleazar asked, his gaze flickering from myself to the ten portraits that had been brought before me, hung on stands and draped in white silk, ready for me to order their reveal. I had no intention, however, of doing so by myself – I would be bringing a stranger into my family, and I wanted them here, to advise and, if necessary, console me over the choice that I had to make.
"I am sure, Eleazar. These are, after all, your choices, and I trust in you to steer me correctly in this, as you did so for my father on so many occasions."
Eleazar nodded, and I saw a hint of pride in his expression. He had served as my father's ambassador to the different kingdoms for many years, and so had had chances to meet all of the women being presented to me as future brides. Having led a cloistered life before Emmett's abdication, I had not met any, and so would have to rely on his and my family's judgement on who would make a good empress.
Footsteps sounded outside the door, and I nodded for the guards to allow them in. First stepped two heralds, one's livery displaying a crowned rose, the symbol of the Kingdom of Hale, while the other wore my family's crest, a golden sun against a white sky. They dropped to their knees, and the second announced, "Presenting her Royal and Imperial Highness, the Flower of the Golden Empire, the Pearl of the Kingdom of Masen, His Highness' Serene and Most Beloved Sister, the High Princess Alice!"
The first herald had shorter titles to announce, but he made up for it in the strength of his voice. "Presenting her Royal Highness, the Princess Rosalie of Hale, and his Royal Highness, Prince Emmett, Duke of McCarthy!"
No sooner had he finished speaking when a small figure bounding into the room, almost knocking me off my feet as she embraced me. "Edward, forgive me. I should have come sooner-"
I shook my head, gently untangling Alice's arms from around me as Rosalie swept into the room, Emmett following as he tried to avoid stepping on the long train of her gown. Even when attending a funeral, my sister-in-law had to be the most beautiful woman present, and her black satin gown was covered in delicate gold embroidery and gleaming pearls, none of which could match the shine of her golden hair, caught up in a hairnet decorated with black pearls. Despite his plainer manner of dress, Emmett's hulking figure carried such a presence that none could doubt that he was the son of an Emperor, even if he had given up his crown. I smiled sadly at him from over Alice's head, and he nodded, glancing awkwardly to one side. Emmett had never dealt with grief outwardly, and I knew that it would be some time before he could bring himself to speak of our lost parents.
But at least he was given the chance to say goodbye, a resentful whisper hissed in my mind. I ignored it, choosing to greet Rosalie in the formal style that her station demanded as Eleazar paced in front of the covered portraits. When she saw them, Alice put her hands on her hips, recognising the shape from the numerous times Father had presented her with one in the hopes that she would agree to a marriage. "I hope those are not all offers for my hand, brother. I think that even the High Princess Chelsea would deem ten husbands to be too extravagant, and Lord knows, I've no desire to imitate her."
I laughed, glad to find that even now, Alice could still inspire merriment in me. "As glad as I would be if you would find even one man who could prove satisfactory as a husband for you, sister, they are not for you. It seems that a wife must be chosen, and there are many offers already at hand. Would you help me decide on them?"
Emmett snorted. "About time! You never even took a girl to bed, not even Lady Tanya-"
"I have no desire to speak of the Lady Tanya now," I said firmly, hoping he did not notice my blush. "Ten choices, and we need to make them before I meet with the Volturi ambassador, so may we begin?"
Excitedly, Alice practically bounced into the seat drawn out for her, while Emmett and Rosalie settled themselves down in a more sedate manner. Once I had been seated - last, which was something that would no longer be allowed once I became Emperor - Eleazar cleared his throat and began.
"As I informed his Imperial Majesty before...before his illness, there are currently thirty-six offers for the hand of your Highness. In the interests of time, we rejected the twelve offers that were under the age of fifteen, while those aged beyond thirty were discounted at your Highness's own insistence. That left us with seventeen offers, seven of which came from the Volturi Empire. They have offered you your pick of the High Princess Renata, High Princess Heidi, High Princess Jane, Princess Gianna, Princess Bianca, and Princess Corin."
Alice scowled. "I don't want to have any of them in my family. Besides, can you imagine the wedding colours? Red and black with white and gold - you wouldn't know if you were at a wedding or a funeral."
I nodded, gesturing for Eleazar to continue. He didn't look surprised by our dismissal of any Volturi brides, instead going to the first of the covered portraits. "Of the ten who remain, the first is her Grace, Lady Jessica, the Duchess of Mallory." He pulled away the cloth to reveal the portrait of a girl dressed in an elaborate gown, her hair an artfully arranged display of brown curls. "The Duchess is from the Kingdom of Masen, your Highness, and her family has long since been a loyal force to your uncle, the King - it would please him, and indeed, all of Masen, for there to be closer links between the realm of your father and your mother-"
But though I had preferred my own company before taking the crown, I had not been blind to gossip, and I knew full well why my uncle, King Joham, would offer this girl when my father had already refused his three daughters. "While I am keen for our good relationship with Masen to continue, the sanctity of the Empress's person may not be called into question - and I will not have a bastard cousin of mine on the throne next to me."
Eleazar nodded, clearly expecting nothing different. He went to the next portrait, drawing back the silk to reveal a blonde girl with cold grey eyes that matched her gown. "Princess Lauren, cousin to her Royal Highness, Princess Rosalie-"
"Do not choose her, Edward," Rosalie said, shocking everyone. She took in our surprise with a raised eyebrow, and then shrugged, the pearls on her gown gleaming with the movement. "Father did not tell me about this offer. If he had, and wished for me to pursue it, then I would try to impart her character in the best of terms, but as he did not...Lauren is a crass, spiteful girl, and one who did not care for her education. As a princess, one who is unlikely to succeed to the throne, these flaws may be overlooked, however annoying they are for her family. But for the Empress-Consort of the Empire of the Sun? She can play the court politics I suppose, but she is too petty and too limited to be of any use to you in that area. As the Princess of Hale and her cousin, I would ask you to accept her, but as your sister-in-law and your friend, I would strongly advise you to choose another."
I smiled gratefully at her. "Your advice is always valued, Rosalie. Eleazar, please continue."
But though portrait after portrait was unveiled, we seemed to get nowhere. I was already acquainted with Lady Kate and Lady Irina, but my experience with Lady Tanya had me discarding the two noblewomen very quickly. Rebecca Black, Duchess of La Push seemed an attractive choice until Alice informed me that she had had a lover for years that she would not give up even if we wed, and her sister Rachel was one of the rare female scholars who attained recognition the Grand University - too sweet a prize for her to forego her education, despite the benefits of an imperial alliance. To my displeasure, Joham had again offered me the hands of Princess Serena and Princess Jennifer, to both of whom I gave a firm no. I considered Lady Angela, a quiet noblewoman of the imperial court, but I knew that Sir Benjamin, a good friend, intended to ask for her hand at the Winter festival, and I had no desire to cause either of them any unhappiness by selecting her as a bride.
That left just one portrait, sitting forlornly under its white cover. By this point, I was beginning to despair of finding a suitable bride, wondering if I had perhaps been too hasty in discounting the older brides. Thirty was not too old to bear a child, after all, and some of them had been married before and borne children - proof of fertility might in fact be more valuable than youth in this instance. So caught up was I in pondering this that I barely noticed when Eleazar took away the covering - but then I saw the portrait's subject, and all else fell away.
It was a young woman - a girl, really - garbed in a cloudy blue dress, with a simple silver coronet in her hair. Her eyes were large, and a soft brown that seemed only a shade lighter than the soft brown waves of hair that fell to her waist. A pretty girl - no, a beautiful girl. But it was her expression that caught me, as surely as it must have captivated the painter. Her eyes were downcast, filled with a strange sort of melancholy but there was a sweetness to her face that left me breathless as I looked at her.
Emmett had no such difficulty. "Which one's this?"
"Her Royal Highness, the Princess Isabella of Forks. The only daughter of King Charles, and his wife, the Queen Renee."
"Renee of Phoenix?" Alice asked, her eyes wide. "The princess they sang of in 'The Golden Heart'?"
"There were many songs sung of Queen Renee's beauty, your Highness. 'The Golden Heart' was perhaps the most famous, but she inspired many artists before she was so tragically taken in a hunting disaster."
Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Yes, but the songs sang of Renee's captivating blue eyes and her glorious golden hair - and her graceful movements, not that that saved her in her hunt. This girl has none of those things."
"Perhaps she has not her mother's features, but she is comely enough, I think - and accomplished too. She is said to be excellent at needlework, devoted to her studies, and she is greatly beloved by her father's people for her gentle heart. You could do far worse for a wife, your Highness."
"She sounds lovely, Edward," Alice breathed, staring at the painting. "A far better choice than Jessica or Serena - King Charles's father was a loyal ally in Grandfather's war against Aro. If there's a possibility of war, then we should be solidifying our alliances - and you must let me help with the planning, Edward, for you know that you have no skill whatsoever in-"
Emmett frowned. "Forks is tiny, though. If you're looking to strengthen an alliance, then I hate to say it, but you're probably better off with Jessica or Serena-"
"No, Emmett." Of course, he could be forgiven for assuming as such - he had never taken to studying history well, certainly not as I had. "Forks is small, but they are fierce fighters, and what's more, it sits between the northern reaches of both the Volturi's empire and our own. There were attempts to conquer it for the use of its location, but King Geoffrey fought them off and made the alliance with Grandfather. Certainly, it's no small thing to consider if we're trying to prevent a war."
Eleazar frowned thoughtfully. "I believe that several of the Volturi heirs have already asked for her hand. Certainly, Aro would not mind adding Forks to his empire - Isabella is King Charles's only child. When he dies, she will inherit the the entire kingdom, and Forks will join with her husband's lands when both of them have passed on and given it over to their children."
Expanding the Empire of the Sun without the need to spill a single drop of blood - truly, that would be an excellent start to my reign. But even as I gave my reply, I knew that there was more to my choice than that. The girl in the portrait had entranced me, with simply the look of her eyes. It was foolish and shallow of me - love matches were rare among those of our rank, and to act on base emotions such as desire could lead an empire to ruin - but I knew that this girl, who shone among the other portraits like a pearl against sand, was the only choice I could bring myself to make.
"Send a messenger to King Charles. I will wed the Princess Isabella."
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