Part I continued
"In the Eye of the Hurricane"
Chapter 4
Half-way through the parade, my father returned. The canopy was up, and I was waving and smiling to the crowds with Rosemary at my side when I spotted him. He was dark against the blue sky, one man in a crowd suddenly leaping from a second-story balcony unto one of the carriages in my train. Even with the sky-high tracks, it was a daring jump, at least a story high.
I leaned over and touched Captain Mayhew's arm, for she was facing the wrong way to see it. She turned, alert and direct in her gaze. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
"My Royal Protector," I said loudly to be heard over the cheering crowds. Her dark green eyes lifted in surprise and together we watched as Lord Corvo took each carriage at a time, leaping until he settled into ours, graceful like a bird descending upon its nest.
"Oh!" Rosemary exclaimed, dazzled.
"My lord! I thought you were to be guarding the platform," the Captain said, leaning close to his ear.
"Change of plans," he said evenly. His first glance was at me, dispassionately assessing that I was well and unharmed. Beads of sweat clung to his brow. He sunk to the cushions below, threading his fingers through his dark brown hair. He wore it long for a man, the ends curling against his neck.
I nodded at the Captain and she closed the canopy, sealing us in privacy and blessed quiet. The cacophony of the crowd was like an undulating wave, rolling between deafening applause and hushed murmurs. Caught between happiness and fear, I thought. My people loved me––of that I was sure––but they were afraid of the Crown Killer and the city was beleaguered by troubles. I'd sat through dozens of council meetings about rising unemployment, struggling businesses, and overcrowded soup kitchens.
But it was different seeing it up close.
I could smile. I could wave. But the forced cheer taxed my endurance when my eyes drifted over the crowds, finding the hollow gaze of an orphan, half-naked and dirty, or the outstretched hands of an old beggar, so thin he looked like the walking dead.
All that suffering and the aristocracy still had the nerve to constantly needle me about whale oil restrictions hampering their extravagant lifestyles.
"Our extravagant lifestyle, Emily," Wyman had once said, daring to open my eyes. I had come to him, grumbling about my day, and he had pulled me into his arms and whispered a rhyme that had stayed with me the whole night. "Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey / Where wealth accumulates, and men decay."
My Morley poet.
"How shall we then fix this broken land?" I'd asked, kissing the tip of his freckled nose. "Where so many have so little and so few have so much?"
His smile had been sad. "A wise man once said, 'So distribution should undo excess, and each man have enough'."
"Is private altruism not enough?" I'd asked, feeling uncomfortable. "Must I force the Boyle's of the world to give up some of their wealth?"
"Why not, Emily? The Boyle fortune is obscene."
It made me wonder… Mother, what did you see when you had looked out from your palace at the city suffering below you? I'd been only ten years old when she'd died, too young to have the kind of conversations I so desperately wanted, now that I was Empress.
Mostly, I felt helpless. What can one woman do, even an Empress? The forces behind abject poverty and unchecked greed were difficult to fathom, harder to control.
Now, with my father's long absence and sudden return, I felt that loss of control deeply. Some days I wished he would seize the throne and rule in my stead, or just take me away from Dunwall to live a secret life up in the mountains.
You can't run away from your problems, Emily, I told myself, feeling foolish––but this time of year always put foolish thoughts into my head.
The carriage felt cramped with the four of us now seated inside. Rosemary was beside me, clinging to my arm and openly staring at my father. He sat opposite of us, next to the Captain. I almost smiled to see the two of them together, wearing near identical expressions of serious aloofness.
But my father's eyes held dark secrets, a disquiet that shriveled my courage. He knows something, I thought. I reached across and touched his knee, forcing him to look at me. "What happened, Father? You've been gone for hours."
"Have I?"
He only briefly met my gaze before looking out the carriage windows. He seemed faraway.
"Is that a rhetorical question?" I snapped. "I have reason to worry, as you well know."
"I'm never far from you, Emily," he said, his brow furrowing. "You know that."
He's thinking about leaving, I suddenly realized.
Had today been a test of sorts? To gage whether I would be safe in the Captain's care? To see if I could handle feeling alone, even if I hadn't been truly? If he meant to sail to Karnaca, I would have to get used to his absent shadow.
I took a deep breath, determined to show him I could handle myself, that I wasn't afraid. "No matter," I said, aloof. "The parade is going splendidly so far."
I added, straight-faced, "Hardly any murders."
"Your Highness!" Rosemary blurted, half-laughing.
In truth, I wasn't sure. With the City Watch patrolling the parade route, people were on their best behavior, joyful and adoring, but when the coin began to fall like glinting rain, tossed from the carriages above, the crowds went berserk. They shoved at each other like dogs fighting over a bone. I wasn't sure that someone hadn't died in the scuffle.
Captain Mayhew frowned. "Empress, if I thought for an instant you were in danger, I––"
"Of course," I said, rudely interrupting her, my eyes boring into my father. "I'm waiting for my report, Lord Protector."
The ghost of a smile crossed my father's lips. I remind him of Mother, I realized.
Corvo leaned back, casual and unconcerned. "I concluded my business with Lord Wainwright. The general spoke truly. The security measures at the platform are well in place. Since then, I've been watching your progress. I've decided to divert the tracks up ahead. We're skipping the roundabout in the Drapers Ward District. We'll finish up at the Old Waterfront, then continue over Kaldwin's Bridge. We'll end the parade, as planned, in the Old Port District."
"Why skip the Drapers Ward?" I asked. "I thought the streets were safe again, the shops reopened."
"One of my Eyes caught wind of a street protest. I don't want you anywhere near there in case it tips into a full-scale riot."
The Eyes were my father's elite spies, an elaborate network of shadow informants who reported directly to him. They operated above the law, independent from the City Watch.
But they have a blind spot, I thought. The Crown Killer was evidence of that.
"The gangs are back?" Alexi asked, her emerald eyes flaring with annoyance. As Captain of the City Watch, she regularly received reports of criminal activity. The Drapers Ward, in particular, had a long, bloody history of lawlessness, especially during the Rat Plague. But that was fifteen years ago––now it was not unusual for law-abiding citizens to fight back by taking to the streets in protest, confident in the City Watch's protection.
But like poverty, gangs were difficult to eradicate this I followed my father's advice, seeking a delicate balance to put the warring gangs on even ground, lest their turf wars overrun a specific district. Currently, the Hatters and Dead Eels were the two most infamous gangs operating within Dunwall. I knew my father placed Eyes where he could to clandestinely monitor their activities. The gangs ran Black Markets, employing many a pirate along Wrenhaven River.
"No," Corvo said. "They're protesting the City Watch. They say all the accidental killings in their district are no accident. They say it's Lieutenant Mortimer Ramsey and the men from his squad, wringing people for coin, then killing them if they don't pay up."
"What?" Captain Mayhew gasped. "Do these protestors have proof? This isn't the first time the City Watch has been unfairly targeted by disgruntled citizens."
She was quick to defend one of her own, which didn't surprise me. Lieutenant Ramsey was also her First Officer, the highest-ranking officer under her command. If the accusations were true, it reflected poorly on her.
But the guilt ultimately fell on me.
"I personally appointed Ramsey," I pointed out, feeling sick.
"I'll look into it," Corvo promised.
"And not jump to conclusions," the Captain said, nodding with resolve, but clearly troubled by the news.
The remainder of the parade floated by like a dream.
I felt like I was trapped in one of those little music boxes Anton Sokolov had made for me as a child. A little dancer would pop out when I opened the lid, spinning to the tune of Princess of the Spirit Wood, an old folk song you'd hear in the back country of Tyvia. As the trains moved from district to district, the Captain would crank open the canopy and I would pop out of my box, waving and smiling to the crowds, then descend once more into the darkness and quiet below, before popping back out again.
Rosemary liked it; I could see it on her face.
She pointed out the good to me. The jolly fat mothers with their rosy-cheeked babes held high. The young girls holding hands and playing hopscotch in the streets. The sailors playing dice and laughing at their good fortune. It's not all darkness and turmoil, her blue eyes said without words as she squeezed my hand, giving me the courage to make it through.
"I'm so glad you're here," I whispered, thinking of Wyman. I wasn't exactly… angry that he left. I understood why.
But it was hard to think reasonably when I felt so alone, crushed by the emotions this time of year always brought up in me.
"So am I," Rosemary whispered back. "My life is beautiful because of you." She loved living in the palace with me. She told me every day.
Sometimes it was hard to believe we had only known each other for three years. Our friendship felt much stronger, older. As if we had a bond that surpassed time.
When the parade passed over Kaldwin's Bridge, I couldn't help but think of my grandfather, Emperor Euhorn, who had commissioned the bridge long ago. It was a symbolic monument of unity, bridging Wrenhaven River and linking the north and south shores of the city. Today's launch of the USS Jessamine Kaldwin would, by the same token, be remembered for all time as a celebrated symbol of the Empire's vast reach and unshakeable unity.
Idealistic, I know.
But was it not part of my function as Empress to spread the glory of the Empire? If I couldn't believe it, how could I expect others to believe it? To die for it?
In that moment, I couldn't help but steal a glance at my father. He saw Kaldwin's Bridge in a darker light.
During the Rat Plague, people had used it to commit suicide.
At last, our train rumbled to a stop, reaching the docks. The Old Port District proudly housed the Hounds Pit Pub, the old headquarters of the Loyalist Conspiracy, now turned into a historical monument open to the public. The surrounding area had been built up in recent years, businesses drawn by the tourism. With Dunwall Tower across the river as eye candy, the rich and powerful were snatching up real estate close to the waterfront. In some circles, they were calling it the New Estate District.
Horns began to sound, signaling my triumphant arrival. Rosemary smiled at me. "Good luck, Your Highness!"
She knew I hated making speeches.
The Captain exited first, swinging open the carriage door and formally standing aside.
My Royal Protector went next. He took my hand in his and gently escorted me out of the carriage. The crowds cheered madly as we walked, hand in hand, with heads held high towards the ceremonial platform.
The Royal Navy in all its glory was on full display. I felt my chest swell with pride to see such proud tradition honored in the long and tidy rows of elite sailors standing at attention. They wore royal blue, their uniforms crisp and clean, with satin white gloves and navy hats.
Flags were foisted high, flapping in the brisk wind, and I could hear the squawking of seagulls in the distance as they flew over the waters.
Up close, the USS Jessamine Kaldwin took my breath away.
She was a magnificent ship, an engineering marvel co-powered by steam and whale oil. She was moored close to the docks, making her steel-framed wooden hull appear enormous. Against that polished grain, I smashed a sacrificial bottle of King Street Brandy for good luck. I looked forward to reading about her maiden voyage for I knew my Navy generals would keep me well-updated in her travels. She will protect my shores, I thought, like a mother protects her children.
The cheering fell to hushed whispers as I took the stage, standing amidst the generals of my fleet who commanded the high seas. Each of them had known my mother, and not a few of them had tears in their eyes to see their Young Empress honoring the strong bond between the monarchy and the men and women who served the Empire, near and far.
The Grand Admiral of the Royal Fleet and Supreme Commander of the Combined Armies of the Empire, Sir Edward Slattery, stepped forward. He announced, his back rigid, "Her Imperial Highness, the Empress Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin, the First of Her Name."
I'd had a speech prepared, but like so often in moments like these, I found I could only speak from the heart.
"Thank you, Admiral. Thank you all for sharing this momentous day with me," I began. I knew my voice would be carried forth across Dunwall, blaring from the bell-shaped streetspeakers hanging across every major intersection. It would also be recorded by audiogram and sent to the four corners of the Empire of the Isles so that every citizen could hear my words.
I glanced across the way at Rosemary standing by the carriage train, her sweet eyes encouraging me.
And I glanced at my father below the stage, his eyes reflecting the look I'd made in the mirror, earlier, when I'd seen the ghost of my mother looking back at me.
A sadness tempered with pride.
I was dressed in my mother's pant suit worn on the day of her assassination.
Today, I would remember her life, not her death.
"Good people of the Empire," I said, loud and clear. "Today we celebrate the launch of the Royal Navy's newest and greatest flagship, the USS Jessamine Kaldwin. Her namesake is…"
I lost my voice for a moment. I came back stronger.
"Is my mother, the late Empress Jessamine Kaldwin, as you well know. I would like to tell her story, to honor her as I know she would be greatly honored… to see her name written so proudly on the hull of this great ship…"
Ship… Ship…
My voice echoed. I swallowed hard, blinking against the sunlight dancing off the river's soft waves.
I could see across Wrenhaven River to Dunwall Tower, a gray-stoned palace of forbidding height nestled against the water's rocky edge. Few citizens had ever entered its walls, though they lived in its shadow.
I wanted to tell them the story of the woman who had once lived there. The story of Jessamine. Just Jessamine. Not an untouchable, all-mighty Empress, but an ordinary person just like them, thrust into extraordinary circumstances by the lottery of birth. Born under rare stars, my mother once told me. That's what it meant to be born a Kaldwin.
"Jessamine's story begins at her birth. We all know her father was Emperor Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin and her mother Empress Lela Beatrix. She was the only child, crowned at age twenty when her father died."
I made a self-deprecating smile. "No doubt you've all read this in the history books."
Too late, I realized, many in the empire couldn't read. Illiteracy was an unfortunate epidemic throughout the Isles.
I took a deep breath. You can do this, Emily, I told myself.
"But it's what the history books don't tell you that I wish to relate this day. About Jessamine. About my mother. She believed in alleviating the suffering of her people. She believed in a just and compassionate rule. Her beliefs sometimes blinded her, I know, but her heart was pure."
Pure… Pure…
I took a deep breath. "Her heart lives on… in all of us…"
Below the echo of my voice, I suddenly heard laughter in my ear, a dark chuckling that rumbled like thunder.
But when I paused, listening for it again, it was gone.
I looked at my father.
He was squeezing his fist, the Outsider's Mark on the back of his hand burning through the black leather wrappings. Burning bright! I paled, fearing his secret would suddenly be revealed to all, but when I blinked and looked again, it was as if nothing had happened. My father stood silent, solemnly watching with dark eyes.
Her heart lives on…
Again and again, it echoed in my mind, shouting across the waves as I saw the water break and the giant head of a whale pierce the air, its plume of water exploding into the sky then falling like rain across Wrenhaven River.
Notes:
~Wyman's poetry is, of course, not his own. I took "Ill fares a land…" from Oliver Goldsmith (1730-1774) and "So distribution should undo excess…"(King Lear, Act 4, Scene 1) from William Shakespeare (1564-1616).
~ The pseudo-military ranks of the City Watch are a bit confusing to me, mostly when you consider that Mortimer Ramsey is considered a "Captain" in the game. I decided to put him lower in rank than Captain Alexi Mayhew, and go with the idea that there is only one Captain of the City Watch, commanding all those below. Hence, in my story, Mortimer Ramsey is a Lieutenant (and "First Officer", above all other Lieutenants). Below Lieutenants will be First Sergeant, Staff Sergeant, Corporal, Patrolman, and lastly Cadet.
~Responding to michiev's comment... Yes, I did indeed name Sir Edward Slattery after John Slattery, the real-life voice actor for Havelock from the first Dishonored. I was researching Havelock's story background, and realizing I needed a name for my new Grand Admiral, I decided "Slattery" sounded very Dishonored-esque and went with it! But I picked Edward instead of John since using someone's entire real-life name seemed a bit too creepy. (Sorry to any Edward Slattery's out there – googling it actually brings up an old bishop, haha).
