2/100 - Love

(Continuation of "Introduction"; from the perspective of Emmeryn at age 10.)


The hierophant told me I should not cry. In fact, he said, I should probably never cry in front of anyone again.

"Leaders must be strong," he said. "They are shrewd, decisive, powerful — and above all, accountable to nothing but the final result. Even if the people complain, if the peasants groan about rations and drought, it's all well and good — as long as we win the war. Victory is the most important gift you can give your people." He paused. "'Give' is perhaps not the best word to use; people shouldn't be given anything. They ought to earn it. Don't ever forget that, Your Highn— Exalt Emmeryn."

I thought about what he said as I looked at myself in the mirror. I wanted to cry. Why couldn't I cry? It seemed stupid. I pulled at the fabric around my shoulders. It didn't look right. Nothing looked right. In my reflection, my bottom lip shook.

Don't cry don't cry don't cry

"Your people are waiting for you, Exalt Emmeryn." The hierophant wasn't smiling, but he didn't look like he was going to cry, either. He looked very serious, and a little scary. I didn't want to follow him anywhere.

A group of pegasus knights led me to the balcony where the Exalt — my predecessor — once stood. I didn't want to go out there, but I went anyway. I had to. It was my job now that he was gone.

It was so loud out there, I didn't know what was happening. The hierophant was "addressing" the people, but they weren't paying attention. As I got used to the noise, I could see and hear what was happening.

"To hell with you all!"

"We don't want to hear any more of your lies!"

"My son, my son—"

"You speak with the tongue of Grima!"

"Monsters, you killed my boy!"

"Down with the monarchy!"

They were very, very mad. I could see spots of fire among the crowd where people had torches. Others carried pitchforks. I could see the faces of some people, even from so high up. Most of them were thin. A lot of them were crying. I felt myself getting ready to cry, too.

"You should address your people now, Exalt Emmeryn." The hierophant put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. It hurt. "This is your realm now."

I stepped up to the space where the hierophant had stood and looked down. The people were shouting at me now. I didn't understand what they were saying. I could hear laughter behind me, from the pegasus knights, and I didn't think that I wanted to know what was being said.

I had no idea what to do. When I couldn't help it anymore, I sat down and cried.


Some of the knights helped me back inside. I couldn't walk. I couldn't stop crying. I cried even harder when they tried to take me to the master bedroom to sleep.

"I don't want to," I said.

"But you must," the hierophant said. He was even more unhappy now. "Even if you need practice at ruling yet, you should at least pretend to be in control. The Exalt is supposed to sleep in the master bedroom."

"I don't care," I said.

One of the pegasus knights cleared her throat. "Permission to speak, sire?"

"Only if you have a solution to this blasted mess," the hierophant said.

The pegasus knight spoke. "I don't see why Exalt Emmeryn can't be allowed to stay in her room for the time being. The master bedrooms have not even been cleared of the previous Exalt's personal belongings. Surely it would be unkind to force Exalt Emmeryn to face such sad memories alone?"

The hierophant was almost as mad as the people I'd seen from the balcony. I looked at the pegasus knight. She hadn't been one of the ones who had laughed. I held her skirt, and she smiled down at me.

"Very well, have it your way," the hierophant said, waving a hand. "What's your name, woman?"

The pegasus knight stood straight up. "Phila, sire. I command the 3rd Wing Battalion."

The hierophant smiled thinly. "Well then, congratulations, commander, you have just earned yourself a new duty. You are to look after Exalt Emmeryn now. There's much to be done in the coming weeks."

Phila's looked to me. "If you'll have me, Exalt Emmeryn, it would be an honor to serve you." She went down on her knees. I could see into her eyes now: they were deep and red.

I nodded. "Phila?" I asked. "I would be honored to have you."

The hierophant still wasn't happy. "Exalt Emmeryn," he said to me, "I hope that you'll reflect on the spectacle that we were made to witness this past eve. This is the sad truth of all nations: the people do not know a good deal, to use one of their crude expressions, when they see one. They'll come around, in time."

The hierophant left. Phila had stood up. She put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently.

"It's been a long day, Exalt Emmeryn." Her voice was soft, like mama's. "I'll escort you back to your rooms."

I grabbed at her hand as we started to walk, and she held it as tightly as I held hers. "Please don't call me that," I said.

"Beg pardon, Exalt Emmeryn?"

"That. Exalt." I frowned and looked at the tiles on the floor as they passed under my feet.

"Do you not like being called Exalt?" she asked. I shook my head no.

"The Exalt was my… He was my…" I didn't want to say it out loud. I didn't want it at all.

"I see." Phila's voice was what mama would call "even". I held Phila's hand tighter. I was going to start crying again.

Phila stopped. "None of that, now, " she said. She came down on her knees in front of me again and held my face in her hands. "It's going to be OK," she said. "I promise you this: all will be well."

"I miss my mama," I said. The words came out garbled because I was crying.

"I know you do," Phila said, pulling me in close. "I know your heart is heavy, but this is how it must be. You must remember: your mother will be with you in spirit wherever you go."


Phila saw me tucked into my own bed. She reached across the sheets and pulled them around my shoulders.

"So you don't get cold," she said.

I smiled back at her. "Thank you, Phila."

She pulled back. "Before I take my leave," she said, "begging your pardon, but milady never told me how to address her properly."

"What?"

She shifted her weight. "Earlier, you told me that you wished not to be called 'Exalt Emmeryn'." I nodded. She waited, then asked, "What would you like to be called?"

I didn't know, so I told her so.

Phila thought for a moment. "How about 'Your Grace'?" she asked. I thought it sounded stiff, but then she said, "That is what your mother preferred to be called."

I bit my bottom lip. Your mother will be with you in spirit wherever you go. "All right. That sounds perfect, Phila. Thank you."

"I am glad. Now, Your Grace, I take my leave."

"Wait—!"

"Your Grace?"

"It's what the hierophant said," I said.

Phila turned back around to face me. "What did he say?"

"That I had to win the war to be a good leader. That I shouldn't try to make them happy. That real leaders don't cry." I looked at the sheets. "I don't think I can do this."

Phila petted my shoulder. "In the time of your father, the hierophant's view would have been considered correct. But that time has passed. Your Grace, you are a compassionate, caring, loving individual. You are the leader Ylisse needs. You can do this."

"But they were so angry…"

"Sometimes, it's the ones who need the most love who will ask for it in the most unloving of ways. Do not take their anger to heart. The people are starving, and they are scared. They do not know if they will survive the end of the year. They want a leader who will love them enough to listen and bring about peace."

"Love?"

"That's right," Phila said. "Ylisse needs many things, but foremost among them are love and peace."

"They don't want that from me. They hate me."

"They hate what you stand for," Phila said. "They see you standing in your father's shoes. You need to show them that you're more than a warrior."

"How?"

"With love, Your Grace. With love. It won't be easy. They won't change their minds all at once, save by a stroke of Naga. It will require perseverance and dedication — traits that you have in abundance, Your Grace."

"Phila?"

"Yes?"

I pulled at the sheets. "I don't think I can do this alone."

Phila smiled at me. "You are wise to know it. Those who seek to do everything themselves cannot hope to succeed."

"Then you'll help me?"

"As much and as often as I can," Phila said. "This I swear."

My eyes felt heavy, and the bed was warm. Phila had made me feel safe, and now I was falling asleep. "Thank you, Phila."

She smiled one last time. "It's my pleasure, Your Grace. Sleep well."