landslide
-the mass that moves down
-a great majority of votes for one side
-an overwhelming victory
I barely have fallen into some dreamless slumber before something crashes against the wooden floor somewhere in the mansion. My blanket of dogs explodes into a ball of cautious noise and jumping legs. Paws clicking on the wood, noses taking in the smell on the other side of the door, they bark an alarm again as soon as the crashing sound repeats.
I take a moment to sit up and watch them.
"By my colors, I swear," my voice barely says to Battle Scar weakly twitching at my feet. His wounds make him sleepy. I somehow wish an animos couldn't only just slip but heal skin. It would make him and my life easier. As it is, all that is to do have someone from our family with a lot more knowledge about animal physique care. Better not to strain the dog.
"If this isn't important, I'll feed whoever is outside there to you." Just some angry mutter as I slip into my robe. The dark fabric feels heavy, but as someone used to more layers than necessary in the summer, the heavy, cool feeling is familiar. The stupid robe is the first thing I possessed since the day I returned to the Viper mansion at Summerton what feels like another lifetime ago.
But I can pull out the dresses designed for mourning and weeping as well now again. Since we have so many dead to mourn or to forget, depending on who you ask.
Not a veil this time. I'll keep that in the wardrobe for another fortunate day.
I made a promise of spite and the hope for bad luck in my wedding night, after all.
One Ear huffs, half a bark.
Battle Scar is still staying at my legs as his brother and sister make a rapid pace and return silently to my side after a whistle.
"You stay, sit," I demand, and the hurt dog sinks down with a whine, tongue half out. He curls below my bed and blinks in the small light that falls through my closed blinds.
Shouting starts to erupt. Every animal in the house starts yelling with the voices, screeching and barking along with whatever anger is pushing along the house.
I assumed maybe it came from downstairs. But as soon as I open my room, the noise shifts with one more yell.
The dogs' freeze and wait with me.
One Ear sniffs again, scarred tissue twitching and the whole ear left intact turning in attention.
Runt's paw stays in midair, before pushing into another direction instead of the stairs.
It comes from the wing that holds the studies and offices, the more official rooms of the family members in charge.
"I will not tolerate you staying in charge longer than I have to," someone hisses. I know that voice. The dogs growl low.
Seems Calpurnia has finally found her way back into the capital.
"Your brother had a son, and we have never changed inheritance matters if the lineage is as clear."
"I don't want it," Loren dips his tongue in fear when he says that, and I don't have to see his face to know he has to be as pale as sour milk. Knowing that the man behind the desk the other voices are attacking has patiently taken out and replaced his father. "I renounce my claims, I won't ask for anything...except for some compensation to move on."
"Unheard of-" Someone else chimes in.
"No," Calpurnia clings to Loren desperately after grooming him so long. "No, that'd bring shame for House Viper and the memory of your father."
"It isn't like the decision to stick to a female branch is completely unheard of," My father argues. His voice sounds strained beneath the exasperation and exhaustion. Slippery. I never heard him yell in all those years. He's close to giving up and doing it now. "House Iral had a matriarchal line. Before today no one would have questioned Ara for being a woman in charge."
Before today...the implication of that.
I tilt my head. The dogs quiver beside me and One Ear pants once, showing a dagger tooth.
"Her children will be Merandus!"
I want to laugh and hold back breathing too hard on my side of the door. Calpurnia egged me about getting a bunch of whisper children the night of the first chase in the woods. She uses the same argument for her own sake now instead of mocking me.
"Then they won't inherit," My father says. "It isn't like she already has grown-up children to threaten you. She isn't even pregnant, as far as I know."
Oh no, my children aren't going to inherit. They'll never exist as far as I am concerned.
A part of me ponders about that a moment, blood in my veins piling into something harsh and hot. Because it isn't like I am not aware of the most dreaded component of this marriage that maybe, someday, could come into reach of possibility.
But the last time we had a discussion grazing the topic of sex, both of us seemed relatively sure to never try that experience with the other. Hard to reproduce with someone when their existence makes you want to choke them until their face turns blue and grey. And I am very, very fine with not crossing that line if it isn't required for me to keep control.
"As far as you know?!"
"Do you expect me to question my grown-up daughter about her cycle and her level and frequency of intercourse? Feel free to ask her, Calpurnia. I'm going to keep everyone in check while you do that. If you haven't noticed, we have a boy as our new king, and he is likely to exterminate whoever he and his mother think aren't loyal to the right claims. You need to be blind to not see the shifts and rifts."
I can sing songs about false loyalty.
"I'm not blind," Calpurnia thrashes up and down behind the door that separates us. "I am just not comfortable with Daliah and you-"
"Do you realize what Ara gone means for Iral?" My father inquires.
The dogs sit motionlessly. Runt is a silver shadow at my shifting legs. I listen very carefully.
So she is gone. That was easier than expected.
"Do you realize what a scandal this would be if we didn't have both a dead king and a lost crown prince, Calpurnia? No one is going to say it, but you can be damn sure that the rumors have spread by now. A dead secretary and a suicide note, more documents in his office discriminating her?"
My work. Well, mine and that of the whisper.
The thought is astounding. I have just helped to make the panther fall.
She is gone. When Ellyn died I didn't feel the victory I hoped for. Now, though, regarding Ara, I always had some reverence and admiration for her. I don't have a personal grudge. I could have worked for her if Maven hadn't caught me first that one faithful day in the Hall of the Sun.
I feel almost powerful, silver blood pulsing through my veins. Even if no one except for Elara, Maven, Samson and me knows the truth about my work.
The dogs lick their snouts. Something in my stomach feels not angry anymore but could be satisfied soon.
Another round of shouting erupts. I have had enough standing in the hall. Throw the door open. I'd kick it if I wore shoes.
Calpurnia looks like she has been dragged through a swamp. Her hair is growing grey, her face gaunter. Loren looks like he is just considering to jump out of the window to escape. The others are more or less the same, buckling naysayers and opportunists.
"You shouldn't have a discussion about my future position without me," I simply declare, arms crossed and bare feet tapping over the ground. Then I lean at the corner of the desk, just at the center, opposing everyone else.
"It isn't a discussion," My father notes, sinking behind the desk into the armchair adorned with the spindling carving of yet another snake in the dark wood and metal inlay. Beside the desk, a cage with the tiniest bird I have ever seen wobbles when the dogs push past. The bird hops low and sings a high pitched song.
He says I spoil them for letting them sleep at my feet.
They have pillows behind the desk and chair. They sink with as much pride into them as big dogs can display.
I cross my arms even more tightly. "It isn't a discussion?"
"It is a vote. Basically," My father answers and clears his throat. Every pair of green, black and grey dagger eyes puncture both me and my messy head and robe and my father on the chair.
But they are silent now. They wait. Coil together. Ready to strike if necessary.
My father still doesn't yell. I can tell by the way he speaks he's taken some inspiration by other powerful people.
"I have led this family for a decade. Even if not by name. I never complained about the tasks you gave me. I sat through hours of council meetings. I served at the war front, I helped to establish trades, I married a woman that had connections to the city and palace guard. I am not going to let any of you diminish that anymore. Not after I have been continuously been proving my worth. Not after that egocentric, choleric man is gone by his own fault. You can stay with me. Or denounce yourself like Calpurnia, opposing me at every cost."
"Choose carefully," I add quietly, and my father's ringed hand touches me a moment on his side, a small, reassuring gesture. The dogs on their pillows have their ears tilted in attention.
"We're still with Samos." Ah, one of the loyalists.
"We are, Hector. Don't worry."My father addresses him, almost gentle. "I was approved after the sun shooting to handle things. And I am very sure the plan for Evangeline is still becoming queen. Even now they wouldn't afford to pull some stunt on Volo. Another reason my daughter is a valid choice for your future. The siblings and she used to be inseparable."
Another pondering silence. the air is so thick you can cut it with a knife. But my father has spoken the truth. His truth. He, of course, omitted that part where he murdered his brother.
I only sneer slightly. "If this is a vote for me and for my father, you will have to speak up."
Loren swallows a lump in his throat, moving, grey shirt crumbled and dark hair just as messy as mine. He still looks like he wants to flee.
Old snakes are never tame, even if they grow accustomed to your touch. Calpurnia's eyes are slits.
The others shift a moment.
"Yes," A voice behind me starts, a slow drawn out hiss.
"Yes," another adds.
"No!" Calpurnia spits.
Every eye is settling on Loren. He avoids them all, nervous and not the proud boy he used to be at all.
I raise my eyebrows in expectation.
"Yes," he mutters.
And that is the last straw to overthrow any other words.
Calpurnia makes one step forward. And I get to do something I wanted to do since the day she and her owl disturbed me in the forest.
With a leap, I make two steps in her direction before her hand can move.
She sees my fingers, tries to evade.
I hit her in the throat.
Seething eyes and choking, desperately trying to breathe, she falls.
I haven't hit her hard. Just poked a bit.
Loren barely catches her. She smashes into him, almost dragging him down.
The dogs jump from their pillows, ready to take another fight if I want to.
No one else bats an eye.
We all just watch Calpurnia ringing and fighting for breath and the last rest of her dignity.
"I could have crushed your throat," I state and barely restrain myself from kicking her. My hands flex, open and close. I am tired, sore, and very happy to hurt her. "I should have. But you're outnumbered either way. So you bend or run now, Calpurnia Viper."
She doesn't answer. Instead, she finally stumbles up, still breathless. Loren lets go as if she has burned his pale fingertips. Her eyes tilt and blink like a wounded hare in the unrepenting throat of their hunter.
Then she turns and flees.
The door smashes close.
I scoff softly. The dogs puff and sink back on their pillows.
Everyone else stays where they are.
The silence is deafening. The bird chimes again from his seat, low and soft this time. Shaking the brilliant green feathers.
"To House Viper," my father says quietly, leaning back.
"To you," Hector says from his corner, a black shadow with teeth gleaming white in contrast.
And then Loren surprises me. "And to Daliah."
I bow slightly, still sneering. "Power and Strength."
"Power and Strength," the whole room echoes. And they bow for me in return.
I feel dizzy again. But not because I have had so little sleep.