Lorivar sat in his coach, his impassive face revealing nothing of his turbulent thoughts. A summons, from Orian, to SaDiablo Hall. He had received it yesterday. It was worded politely, asking him to please meet her there at an appointed time. Polite, but formal. It was the request of a Queen who knew enough Protocol to request a Warlord Prince be somewhere at a certain time, but able to keep the request from being a bitchy command.
So, the question remained. Why would he be invited to SaDiablo Hall? Lorivar had come up with two possibilities, both of which were equally possible. Either Orian had decided she liked his offer and wanted to formally accept in a setting more grand than her parent's home, or young Yaslana had convinced his uncle to eliminate the boy's rival. It was tempting to contact Orian on a psychic thread and ask if she had really sent for him, but he didn't. After all, what was the fun in life if there weren't a few surprises? Besides, Lorivar was originally from Terreille. He had heard legends of The Sadist. If Sadi had decided it was time for Lorivar to die, there wasn't much he could do but walk in and face it like a warrior.
The coach turned onto the drive that led to the front of the Hall. It didn't matter how many grand palaces that Lorivar had seen before. This one topped them all. At first he thought that he was looking at a walled village. And then he remembered what he had been told about the Hall. The whole thing was a house. A monument to ego and glory, he thought. The first male to ever wear the Black wanted to show off in fine form, and Lorivar had to admit, the High Lord certainly accomplished that.
The coach stopped and Lorivar exited. He had thought about simply flying here, but taking a coach added the right note of formality that matched the invitation. He approached the great doors which opened. A Red Jeweled butler gave a small bow of the head, and then allowed him to enter. Lorivar glanced around, assessing the place. It was magnificent. The front hall was open, but there were plenty of places for an ambush on the visitor. Lorivar smiled. The High Lord wasn't Eyrien, but he planned this place like a warrior would. Few escape routes beside the front door, and not many people could quickly get through the Red lock that the butler could throw on the door, but plenty of places attack could come from. Either you entered the Hall under the flag of invited guest, or you never planned to leave it alive again.
Lorivar didn't let any of those thoughts show. His face remained the arrogant smile of an Eyrien warrior as the butler spoke.
"Prince Dastol, Prince Sadi has instructed me to escort you to the reception hall."
Lorivar nodded and the butler led him through a maze of halls and passages. Lorivar knew that he could get back if he needed to, but there was the matter of amazement at the grandeur of the place. It wasn't like the great manor homes and palaces he had seen in the courts in Terreille. Those were obviously on display and seemed to scream "look at me, I'm special, I'm powerful, look, look, look at me!" This place was more subtle. A home for people who actually had great power and didn't need to put on fine feathers to fool someone into thinking it. The furnishings were of the highest quality, even if they weren't all covered in gold or silver cloth, and the décor was eclectic but lovely. No, the Hall was for the people that lived there and not a display for those who visited.
They entered the formal receiving hall, and Lorivar knew this was one of the places for Ceremony at the Hall. He could vaguely sense the power inherent in each stone, a dark power that was far below his. This particular room was a place of special power, more so than the rest of SaDiablo Hall. It was furnished more simply than he had seen in other rooms, but when power was pulsing from every direction, furnishing wasn't needed.
Three-quarters the way across the room, Orian sat in a chair on a dais. A long black runner extended down from the dais to near where he entered. The room was lit with witchlight, balls of fire floating in regular intervals down the wall. Orian didn't look at him, but stared straight ahead. On her left…well, wasn't that interesting? Where he would have expected to see her parents stood a man and woman who were distinctively not Eyrien.
The man looked at him and Lorivar felt the punch of sexual heat the flowed from him. He gasped; glad his long coat hid his body's momentary reaction to all that heat. And that wasn't a seduction spell, but the man's natural sensuality, honed into a dangerous weapon. Lorivar had spent the first 1,100 years of his life in Terreille, and had made sure to keep out of The Sadist's way due to the man's reputation alone. Now, facing him for the first time in the flesh, he knew he had made a wise decision.
The woman was from one of the short-lived races, past her prime, but still holding on to some of her earlier beauty. She would have been easy to dismiss except for the Jewel she was wearing and the man by her side. Lorivar had, of course, heard of Twilight's Dawn, the most unique Jewel in the history of the Blood, but he had never met the Lady who wore it. They said she was Witch, though she didn't seem any more powerful than his Sapphire. One could still dismiss her except for the fact that she had been happily married to Sadi for decades. Any woman that could be with The Sadist that long had to have power, even if her Jewel said otherwise.
Lorivar strode down the black carpet and dropped to one knee in front of Orian. "How may I serve you?" he asked formally.
"Prince Lorivar Dastol," Orian said, her voice a little deeper, more formal, more…regal than he had heard before. Her arm gestured towards the two people standing next to her. "I introduce the former Queen of Ebon Askavi, Lady Jaenelle Angelline, and her husband, Prince Daemon Sadi, Warlord Prince of Dhemlan."
Per proper Protocol, Lorivar looked up at them, bowed his head once and then refocused on Orian, waiting for her to continue.
"They are here to stand and witness my response to your proposal," Orian continued.
A thrill of excitement ran through him followed by a tremor of worry. She had used her phrasing deliberately. If they were there to stand witness, then they were simply there to confirm what was said at this meeting if it ever came into question. By stating that they were there to stand and witness, it meant that they were standing witness, but that they were also supporting her. If she needed aid, even after she assumed her duties as Queen, they would lend assistance. That was not going to make the Dark Council of Little Terreille happy, but it was too late now to back out on the offer.
"Do you state in front of witnesses that you were sent by the Queen of Rolla, representing her District, to ask that I become the next Queen of Rolla and its District?"
"I do so state."
"Do you state in front of witnesses that the Queen wishes to retire by this spring, and further wishes me to assume her duties immediately after?"
"I do so state."
"I have decided," she said, "to accept your offer made on behalf of the Queen of Rolla and its District. I shall make the Offering to the Darkness within two months and will be ready by spring to assume her duties. This I state in front of these witnesses."
Lorivar couldn't help the smile. He looked up at Orian, the question in his eyes, and was pleased with the small blush he received in return. "And the other matter, my Lady?"
"I have not decided on any other matters," she said, sounding more like Orian now. "Nor must I at this moment. It is my wish that you return to Rolla immediately and plan for a meeting between myself and the Queen of Rolla. I should like to meet with her as soon as possible after Winsol so that we may discuss all matters and formalize a contract."
Lorivar bowed his head again. "It shall be as my Lady wills it." Inside he cursed. He didn't want to leave right now. Oh, yes, it made perfect sense since he was the one who had pointed out how Rolla wanted to move quickly, but he didn't want to be gone for the remaining days of the Winsol festival. He had planned on taking Orian to more parties and showing her that he was the strong and virile man she needed by her side to rule.
"It is stated," Orian said.
"And witnessed," chorused the witnesses.
"And agreed," Lorivar said, finishing the ceremonial phrasing. He stood and bowed from the waist to Orian and then to the witnesses.
"Lorivar," Orian said, "I would like a few minutes with you before you leave."
"Of course, darling," he said with a smile.
"Why don't you show Lorivar the courtyard garden?" Jaenelle suggested. Orian shot her a smile of gratitude, knowing why she would make the suggestion. It would be private enough for the two humans, but there would be at least one hidden and well-shielded Arcerian there to chaperone.
Orian stood and Lorivar offered his hand. She placed hers on it and led him out the door, through several corridors and finally to a balcony. The courtyard was below them, covered in a light powder of snow, but still lovely in its still whiteness. Orian grinned at Lorivar and jumped over the railing, her wings flicking out so that she glided to the garden below.
Orian landed softly, Lorivar right behind her. He caught her hand and they wandered through the gardens. "Darling, do you really want me to leave immediately?" he asked.
She smiled. "I need to meet with the Queen soon. Once we meet, well, I might not be acceptable, or the terms might not be acceptable to me. If it doesn't work out, then she needs the time to find another Queen very quickly."
He gave her a warm smile and kissed her fingers. "I will happily leave in the morning as long as you promise to miss me."
She blushed. "Lorivar, there's something you need to know. And if you wish to withdraw your…personal offer after I tell you, I will understand."
His eyebrows rose in question. She took a deep breath. "I'm not pure Eyrien," she confessed.
Lorivar dropped her hand and took a step back, theatrically clutching his chest. "No," mockingly gasped. "It can't be."
She glared at him, but a tiny hint of smile ruined the glare. "You knew."
He dropped the theatrical pose. "Of course I did, darling. Eyrien and curly hair don't usually belong together." He ran a finger down her hair. "But I'll tell you a secret," he said softly. "Few Eyriens are pure. Go back a dozen generations in even the most aristo houses and you'll find a Dhemlan or Hayllian somewhere. They'll say the occasional wingless baby was in distress when it was being born and the wings had to be removed in order to get the baby out and save its life, but most know that it wasn't due to a bad Healer or a birth defect. It's a throwback to a non-Eyrien that became part of the bloodline centuries ago."
He shrugged. "Yours is a little closer to the surface, so its sneered at because they don't want to admit to their own pollutions in the bloodline. As for me, I am interested in you, and not a grandparent or great-grandparent."
She smiled, obviously relieved. "Thank you, Lorivar," she said, pleased with his response and acceptance of who and what she was. "And I will miss you."
His eyes twinkled. "Then that is all the incentive I need to ensure my Lady's meeting is perfect." He kissed her hand again. "May I escort you home?"
She looked a bit regretful. "Lady Angelline wanted to speak with me tonight," she said. "Everyone thought I would get a large town or maybe a two village District. There's a bit more polishing that I suspect the Lady thinks I may need before taking on a larger District."
"I understand," he said, inwardly seething. He wondered who really suggested that he go to Rolla immediately, and who had made sure Orian would meet with Lady Angelline tonight. It wouldn't do to forget that his rival wasn't just some random boy, but a boy whose uncle and aunt might make sure that he had a few added advantages of time. Oh well. It was no matter. He could escort her to some pedestrian party and it would be nice, but she would remember the glamour that he had shown her, and the boy's clumsy attempts at courting her would fall short.
They entered the Hall, and Lorivar recognized that they were near the entrance. She led him to the great entrance hall where the butler stood discretely to the side. "Beale has arranged for one of the Hall's coaches to take you home," she said, and then impulsively rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for everything, Lorivar. May the Darkness embrace you."
"And you, my darling," he said, eyes bright from the first bit of affection that she had shown to him. He caressed her cheek, and then barely brushed his lips over hers. He stepped back his hand lingering on hers, and then he turned and walked away, Beale leading him to the door.