Chapter 43


Day 21 of the Pegasus Moon, Imperial Year 1177


"You should not be helping with this, Your Highness," Dedue protested as he swung a mallet into the heavy snow that blanketed the palace grounds. The snow had mixed with sleet, forming a dense sheet that was over a foot thick. The material first needed to be broken up before servants behind them could sweep away the split blocks.

Dimitri stood beside him with a mallet of his own. He replied, "And why not? It's good exercise, Dedue! That can be hard to come by when the weather is this bad."

"Still, such a chore is beneath someone of your height. It will affect how people see you."

Dimitri hid a smile. "I think the word you are looking for is 'stature' or 'standing' rather than 'height', though it's true that I am having a bit of a growth spurt. 'Station' or 'rank' would be less abstract choices. But anyways, my position gives me the right to do as I please, does it not? And doing this is what pleases me right now."

Dedue sighed and swung again. "Very well. I will not stop you."

After a few minutes of working in silence, Dimitri asked, "In Duscur… did you get heavy snow like this?"

"Indeed, though the ice was typically not so severe. There was one bad storm, however. The constant pop of snapping branches and trunks was frightening for a child. It was louder than thunder."

"I can imagine. During one storm, I-."

Dimitri was interrupted when a large block of ice suddenly plummeted from the allure above and narrowly missed landing on Dedue's head. The chunk shattered into fragments upon impact that sprayed in every direction.

"Dedue! Are you hurt?" Dimitri called out as he dropped his mallet and jumped to his retainer's side.

Dedue shook his head. "It is nothing."

"Surely something hit you after that," Dimitri insisted.

"My foot does hurt some on… whatever the middle part on the side is called. But it will not affect my ability to work."

"That's not the point," Dimitri sighed. He finally turned his attention upward to where several servants were also hacking away at the snow. One of them had turned his back and was discretely walking away.

"You there! Come down here at once!" Dimitri beckoned.

The man hesitated but eventually turned around and descended the nearest staircase that had been partially cleared. Dimitri could now see that the suspect was a squire not much older than himself. He refused to make eye contact with the prince.

Dimitri told him, "You surely heard us below you. You could have hurt someone! The consequences would have been harsh if you killed the crown prince doing something like that."

"I checked before I swung, Your Highness. I knew you weren't in my way."

That made Dimitri seethe even more. "Then you knew that my retainer Dedue was below you. Surely you could have waited until he moved before clearing that section."

"Of course, Your Highness. But I had a job to do, and what was the worst that could happen? Give one of their people a bonk on the head?"

"… Their people?" Dimitri growled.

"I don't think I need to explain myself," the squire said more hesitantly, perhaps realizing he had gone too far.

Dimitri had at first considered the possibility that this "accident" was some scheme of his uncle's. But no… this squire was full not of ambition or greed, but rather the filth of hate. Dimitri took a step closer. "Dedue never hurt anyone! He has pledged loyalty to me, and he has everything possible in the past year to reaffirm that. He has eaten our food, lived in our halls, and learned our language. What more could you possibly ask of him?"

"With all due respect, Your Highness… let's suppose that perpetrators of the Tragedy mastered our language and made flowery oaths beforehand. Would that have cleansed their souls and nothing bad would have happened? Of course not. Nothing can remove the taint from the hearts of their people." He pointed at Dedue. "It's the same for him. I'd sooner stroll across the Throat with my arms spread wide than expose my back to someone from Duscur."

Dimitri pondered the best place to land a punch until Dedue declared, "It's no issue, Your Highness. I understand his stance."

"But…" Dimitri sighed. He finally told the young man, "Just go do your work, and never let that happen again. I'll be speaking to your master about your behavior."

The squire bowed. "You are welcome to do so, Your Highness, but don't be surprised when his feelings are the same as mine. He lost two knights in Duscur. I lost my cousin and a best friend."

When the boy was gone, Dimitri turned to his companion and said, "You shouldn't just accept that kind of behavior, Dedue."

"Their behavior will not change whether I accept it or not. All it will change is your reputation," Dedue reasoned.

"But you can't just expect to live your whole life like this!"

"The day will come when you are king of Faerghus, Your Highness. Patience will sustain me until then. The only thing in my power is to ensure you reach that day."

"To stake the future of your people on one weak boy… I don't know, Dedue. I fear the challenge might be too much for me, too," Dimitri said with another sigh.

Dedue frowned but maintained, "Then I will be at peace knowing that there was not a person in the world capable of altering the fate of my people. You are the best hope for both Faerghus and Duscur, Your Highness. I have no doubt of that."

Dimitri lowered his eyes and muttered, "Come on, Dedue… let's get back to work."


An Ineluctable Resolution - Day 25 of the Garland Moon, Year 1187 (Fódlan Calendar)


Many weeks had passed since the betrothal of Prince James and Sardar Juliana. The people directly responsible for the fall of Metanoiapolis left Meteora in first few days following the announcement. Most of the Elamite army returned to Istakhr, while its leadership departed for the Dunya Palace. James and Juliana made occasional visits to Meteora, but most of their time was spent in Elam. It was decided that the marriage would not take place until the war was concluded; even so, preparations were already underway.

Tensions in Meteora were finally beginning to calm, which allowed the king's council to focus primarily on resolving matters with the Tabarzin. They had sent multiple dispatches to Darius reminding him that he was desperately low on troops and completely out of allies, but the self-proclaimed padishah stubbornly refused any peace offer that did not include the imprisonment or death of Prince Khalid. Dimitri had become increasingly protective of Khalid after hearing that, worrying that someone might make a move against the prince if his existence was the only thing preventing the war's end. Khalid did not push back against Dimitri's wariness, suggesting that the concerns were mutual.

Thankfully, the planned Tabarzin campaign was finally looming, though this was also accompanied by an increase in chores. Dimitri sat in a meeting in the Dunya's council chambers with the usual representatives. Notably, they were now joined by generals Ridwan and Engy of Saba, while the king and queen of Almyra were both absent.

"Are you almost finished with the bow manufacturing?" Ridwan asked the Elamites. "I hope you made a few extra samples so we can take some home!"

Demetrius answered, "It's on schedule. We should reach our quota within a week. Once they are ready, everything should be in place for us to march."

"I certainly hope it was worth delaying the campaign so we can try your little trick, Prince Khalid. I'm sure Darius hasn't wasted that extra time to prepare," Kamran warned bitterly.

"Any extra delay was minimal, Kamran. We've only just finished getting our forces ready," Senusret reminded. "And don't make light of the prince's 'little tricks.' I saw them used to incredible effect at Pyli Kyma."

"We don't need to speak in hypotheticals," Khalid said in his own defense. "You all watched my demonstration. Don't tell me you've forgotten about that, Kamran. That could be a sign of a pretty serious medical condition."

Khalid had organized the aforementioned demonstration to justify his request for the production of self bows to supplant the standard Almyran composite bows for the campaign. The Mirza's Citadel was not as formidable as the walls of Metanoiapolis, so a decision had already been made to launch a direct assault rather than demur and commence a siege. It would still be a costly attack, however, so Khalid had devised a scheme to limit the casualties as much as possible.

Kamran insisted, "I'm not denying the rudiments of the strategy, but its success hinges on more factors than I'm comfortable with. I can't be the only one."

"Even if it doesn't work, it has cost us only a week at most. We still plan to bring composite bows as well. The risk is just as minimal as your 'little trick' with the letters," Dimitri said on his lord's behalf with equal defiance.

Khalid's vindication was accepted among that crowd, but Kamran's comments did not represent an isolated incident. Though the Dunya Palace was disconnected from much of the drama in the public space, Dimitri had heard plenty during the days he had spent in Istakhr since the return from Meteora. Khalid was facing mockery for being "too stupid to marry the prettiest girl in Meteora", and his role in Juliana's rescue was being minimized in favor of Prince James. Khalid was also being blamed for the failure at the Battle of the Pinnacula, while James and Kamran's scheme with the forged letters was heralded as the cause of Meteora's downfall. Kamran was garnering a somewhat mixed response since some people found the methods too unsavory, but James was avoiding the worst of the criticism since he was simply the one that "made the plan work" rather than actually devising it.

All in all, it had been a terrible month for Khalid's reputation. And to make matters worse, the king's health was a subject of grave discussion. Just as Khalid had feared, King Faruq began to battle with near-constant illness ever since his return from Meteora. He would sometimes show signs of improvement just to relapse the following day. No one knew if he was exposed to some form of disease while in Metanoiapolis or if his body was simply not prepared for the journey, but his health was clearly trending in the wrong direction.

Dimitri glanced at the empty royal divan. Almyra was not his home, but the weight of absent leadership could still be felt.

Perhaps in response to this demand, the doors swung open as Queen Tiana hurried in and took a seat. She told the others, "Marianne was still there to inspect him when I left, but you will all be happy to hear that His Majesty is having a good day so far. I told him it was better for him to rest during this meeting so he can save his energy for tonight's events."

The meaning of "tonight's events" was still a bit of a mystery to everyone Dimitri had spoken with. He knew that the heads of Elam's noble families had been invited and that a major feast was being prepared, but everything beyond that was speculation.

Everyone pandered to the queen by commenting on this good news and then summarized the meeting's agenda. Tiana rubbed her face in exhaustion and asked, "So, remind me again on what route the camel division will take? North or south?"

James answered, "South, in the direction of Ecbatana. It's a farther journey, but the climate is more consistent. If we took the coastal route, we'd probably need to switch between the dromedary and the steppe camels multiple times. It would be a logistical nightmare that'd completely reverse the time saved."

Despite Kamran's complaints, the army's leadership was in fact taking speed into consideration. The route through the Mikdash was by far the shortest, but the thick forest would offer advantages for outnumbered Tabarzin soldiers hoping to harass their opponents. Thus, the fresh camel riders from Saba would be utilized to minimize this risk. The camel division planned to quickly ride around the Mikdash and sufficiently block travel between the great forest and the rest of the Tabarzin. The Sabaeans would be aided by wyvern scouts acting as spotters. This would not completely eliminate the risk of ambushes, but it would become difficult to sneak a force of significant size into the Mikdash. Moreover, any Tabarzin troops inside would be pinned between the camel division to the west and the main Elamite army approaching from the east.

The traditional cavalry could have provided the same role months earlier, but the losses at the Battle of the Pinnacula drastically slashed its combat readiness. The surviving horses would instead carry heavier equipment through the Mikdash. Despite some early jokes that the Sabaean forces were useless additions, the value of experienced riders quickly became obvious as the plan coalesced.

"Are your soldiers adjusting well to the steppe camels? Or will they at least be ready?" the queen asked Agha Engy, commander of the Sabaean camel division. Engy was an excitable woman with a heavy accent and a habit of frequently laughing that most people attributed to nerves until realizing she truly was that easily amused. Despite her idiosyncrasies, she was well liked by everyone.

Engy assured Tiana, "Oh yes, Your Majesty, haha! Your camels' coats are so furry and cozy! I think everyone is still, umm… adjusting to them having two humps, but I am very sure it will all be fine, haha! They are really not so different, yes? I am surprised you have not made more use of your camels in battle."

"We used to, actually," Khalid confirmed, his enthusiasm for history matching that of Engy. "However, our camels weren't suitable for war in Shomal, Saba, or even Meteora. They weren't worth maintaining solely for a hypothetical civil war with the Tabarzin that no one predicted until recently. That's why most of them ended up in the hands of our merchants. I guess the camels have served them well, because those same merchants made us pay a lot to expropriate them for this campaign. Let's hope they're worth it."

Nousha promised, "Engy and the Sabaeans all performed admirably at Maddaban. They'll be worth the expense."

Engy beamed widely. "You're too kind, General Nousha, haha! That was only possible thanks to you!"

The discussion eventually shifted to the subject of the army's management. Queen Tiana had already decided to withdraw from the campaign so she could stay with her ailing husband. There was minimal controversy regarding the leadership of the Elamite and Sabaean divisions, and Senusret was happy to let Nousha and Satiah take the reins of the wyvern corps again. However, there was one point of contention.

"Sardar Soraya, I would be honored to represent the government of Shomal once again in this final battle," Kamran said with a bowed head.

Soraya was expressionless when she replied, "That won't be necessary, Kamran. I will accompany the army myself for this campaign. You can continue to help oversee the reconstruction of Meteora in our absence."

Kamran's face morphed in shock. He needed a few seconds to process her words before replying, "Are… you sure that is wise, Your Highness? This is a dangerous business, and I have more battlefield experience since you were last at Sous River."

"That is true, but I believe it would be good for morale if a head of one of the royal families marched alongside the soldiers. In the absence of Her Majesty, that leaves me. Meteora has a far more complex market than the Tabarzin, so I imagine you are already quite busy. I've hardly done anything this past year other than enjoy the palace and eat lunch with the king."

Kamran was still agitated by her stubbornness. "I understand, Your Highness, but-."

Soraya's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't asking you for permission, Kamran. I am the sardar of Shomal, and I have made my decision. Or do you presume to hold authority over me?"

Everyone was taken aback to hear Soraya raise her voice. Kamran was rendered quite flustered when he responded, "Of course not, Your Highness. I only ask for the sake of our people that you be safe."

"Thank you for your concern. I understand that you were only so obstinate about it because you had to represent the full opinion of the council. That is, of course, always your foremost motivation."

Dimitri was not entirely sure if she was being polite or deliberately mordant, but the subtle smile donning the corner of Khalid's lips revealed his stance on the question.

The meeting concluded after a few other brief matters of discussion, but that interaction still occupied Khalid's mind. Dimitri followed after the prince as he chased down Soraya once they were free.

"Kamran is not entirely wrong, you know," Khalid told her. "It's going to be dangerous. You got torn up at Sous River without even leaving the command post. Not to be morbid, but we'd be a lot more upset about losing you than losing Kamran."

Soraya's eyes widened ever so slightly. "I'm surprised to hear you say that, Prince Khalid. After all, you are the reason I wish to go."

Khalid's eyebrows furrowed. "How so?"

"Your pleas to your father back in Metanoiapolis went unanswered, but they were not unheard. You're right- I've been setting a bad example for Lydia's future. Not just because of what happened with Juliana, but also because of what I let Kamran and the council get away with. That's ultimately why I want to come… to keep the council's fingers off another trampled people, and to show Lydia I'm good for more than being a pretty face."

Dimitri interjected, "If I may… I am no expert in Almyran politics, or probably any politics for that matter… but you are far more than a pretty face, Sardar Soraya. You have always been a voice of reason, grace, and calm. Despite Shomal's defeat in the last war, you promoted reconciliation and progress rather than foment discontent. If you had, Shomal might be in a similar place as Meteora right now."

Soraya smiled. "You underestimate your intelligence, Dimitri. I'll happily accept the praise, but if there was ever a time to be more proactive, it would be now. I'm sure the council will retaliate against me in some way, but I think it will be worth the trouble this time. I've managed to survive all these years, and yet… I want Lydia to be in a position to do more than just survive."

Khalid nodded. "Well, I can't argue with that reasoning. We'll be happy to have you, Soraya."

Dimitri was in a good mood as he and Khalid walked back towards their rooms, but he noticed that the prince was getting increasingly stressed the closer they got. Ariella was reading a book beside the fountain in their courtyard upon their return. Khalid's eyes darted about in search of something before he asked her, "Marianne's not back yet?"

Ella shook her head. "Sorry. I haven't seen her."

"Alright," Khalid said with a frown. "Well… I won't interrupt your reading. I'll be up in my room. It's a good opportunity for some peace and quiet, because I don't think we'll be getting much of that later."

Dimitri and Ariella watched as Khalid ascended to his room looking unusually exhausted. The young woman sighed as the door was shut. She told Dimitri, "It's hard seeing him like this. It's bad enough to watch your father waste away, but I'm sure he also knows what to expect tonight."

"Have you heard what's happening?" Dimitri asked.

"No. But it's easy to make some guesses." Ariella shut her book. "The nobles should all be here by now. Would you be interested in learning a bit about them? It sounds more fun than sitting here and waiting for something to happen."

"You would take me somewhere? What about Khalid's protection?"

"Security is already enhanced today since we have visitors. Come on… this won't take too long, I promise. Khalid will be fine on his own for a few minutes."

Dimitri conceded, "I… suppose. What do you have in mind?"

"Follow me and you'll find out. Don't worry; I'm not going to make you talk to them."

Dimitri stopped asking questions as he followed Ariella out of Khalid's courtyard and through several corridors. They scaled a staircase and eventually reached a quiet room that was used for prayer at certain times of the day but was otherwise kept empty. Ariella motioned Dimitri to imitate her as she crouched in the niche of a mashrabiya window.

The window overlooked the reception sahn where visiting dignitaries were waiting to be granted entrance deeper into the palace. The king was in no condition to personally welcome them, but there was presumably some other plan in place. The view Ella picked out had both great visibility and privacy.

"Alright, Dimitri… can you see everything?" Ariella asked her companion.

Dimitri nodded. "Are there more nobles coming? I thought there were supposed to be eight of them."

"That's correct, but only six are being recognized right now. The other two hold most of their land in the Tabarzin, and they tossed in their lots with Ghalib. They're probably regretting that choice right now." Ariella pointed to where a man and a woman were standing under a tree. "Those two are the heads of Houses Hydarnes and Gilani. Looks like they're still sticking together like the traitors they are."

"Traitors?"

"Ha! Well, I'm joking. Sort of. Their predecessors were the first ones to balk when King Bardiya ordered the closure of the harems. They conspired with Shomal and Saba to overthrow the king. These two heirs disavowed their family's actions afterwards, of course, but… you know how it goes."

Another man paced along the garden nearby. Ella continued, "The one trying to fit in some last-minute exercise is the lord from House Arvand. He's also channeling the nervous energy of his house. They initially backed Hydarnes and Gilani but panicked and fell prostrate at the king's feet when things got hot. They consequently weren't punished as hard, but they didn't exactly make any friends, either."

Dimitri turned his gaze to the right side of the courtyard. He asked, "And those three over there?"

"The short woman is from House Isfahani. Kind of like Saba this time around, they tried to stay out of the conflict. The other two are from Houses Mihran and Hakimi, who were the only ones to stay devoted to the crown during the entire war. They were of course rewarded. You remember Qadir al-Hakimi, right? His father was a decent man, so it's a shame Qadir turned out so terribly. Though I felt a little guilty for some of the things I thought about him after he died…"

Dimitri watched them a bit longer before admitting, "I've known there were Elamite noble families in principle, but after Qadir's death, they've been so absent during the war that it was easy to almost treat the rest as a myth."

Ariella explained, "A lot of them lost privileges after their betrayal in that war, including promised seats on the council. I think everyone took the lessons they learned and just focused on self-preservation this time around. They didn't stir up any trouble for us, but they probably didn't want to appear too close to King Faruq in case Ghalib came out victorious."

"Understandable, I suppose. I'm glad King Bardiya did not just kill everyone he disliked as Philemon did."

"Ha! Good point. I've never been a proponent of indiscriminate murder."

Dimitri noted, "As I recall, Khalid once mentioned that the royal family almost exclusively married someone from one of these noble lines unless an alliance with one of the other Almyran lands was needed."

"You remember correctly. You can imagine how upset they were when Prince Faruq wrecked tradition for the sake of a girl from Fódlan. It's also worth noting that these families didn't produce many female offspring around our age that lived into adulthood, which is partially why none of the royal princes have married yet."

Ella let Dimitri ask a few more questions and familiarize himself with each of the lords. The pair eventually stood to leave, but they halted when everyone suddenly turned their direction and began to raise their voices. Both Dimitri and Ariella were struck with a brief panic that they had been exposed for "spying", but they soon realized that the reaction was due to Prince James and Sardar Juliana entering the courtyard from the entrance below the window.

Dimitri watched as the nobles all paid their respects to the prince and his betrothed. James did not match their energy, but he treated them politely with as much warmth as he could offer. Meanwhile, Juliana managed to answer questions in a few words or with the nod of her head after a bit of encouragement from James. It was obvious to Dimitri that she did not want to be there, but the nobles all pretended that her shyness was no cause for concern.

"They're acting like they've just met the most interesting man in Almyra. No offense to Prince James, but I wouldn't call him that charismatic," Ariella whispered.

"I think charisma is less important to them than the fact that he isn't Khalid or Abbas," Dimitri guessed with a frown. "Still, it's usually just a show for nobles like this. At least, that's how it is in Fódlan."

"I'm sure they aren't so different from what you're used to," Ella sighed. "Well… are you ready to go, Dimitri? Watching this is starting to make me sick to my stomach."

"Agreed," Dimitri replied. Khalid had done so much- he had brokered an alliance with Brigid, devised winning strategies at Pyli Kyma and Merv, and organized a successful rescue mission for Princess Juliana. Nothing he could do, though, was enough to satisfy his people, who would rather leap at the mundane alternative than give Khalid a proper chance. Almyra's future needed Khalid as much as Faerghus's needed Dimitri, but the youngest prince's prospects for acceptance were as dim as Dedue's had been.

And Juliana… Dimitri did not know her well, but she deserved a better life than this. Florian's sacrifice deserved that, too.

Watching that final interaction brought the adventure to a disagreeable conclusion, and their return did little to improve the mood. As they walked through the tunnel to Khalid's sahn, Dimitri and Ariella glanced at each other nervously when they heard strained voices coming from the other side. Marianne was sitting by the fountain while Khalid paced about.

Khalid told Marianne, "I appreciate everything you've done to treat him. You've put a lot of time into it, and I want to recognize that. But we really need to put more focus on figuring out what the issue is. No one just dies because 'they ran out of energy' or 'their body gave out'. Those are just phrases born out of ignorance and the need to provide an answer. If we can pinpoint the ailment, we ca-."

"I don't know!" Marianne shouted in frustration. "I don't know what it is, and I don't think giving it a name would change much. Even magic has its limits, Khalid. Everyone dies, and the end of their life is always defined by some… unsolvable condition! I'm sorry, but your father's health has been in decline for almost a year now. And unless something changes, it probably isn't going to get better."

Dimitri was not sure if he was more surprised by Marianne's tone or the fact that she called him "Khalid" instead of "Claude." The participants of the argument looked embarrassed when they noticed Dimitri and Ariella's arrival. Khalid tried to calm as he replied, "I'm sorry. I know it isn't your fault, Marianne. It's just… difficult to watch this and do nothing. I wish you and Dimitri got to see him the way he was before I left for Fódlan. He was so strong, bold, and… resolute." He finally sat down and added, "It's no coincidence that this started after that ill-advised trip to Metanoiapolis. Everyone knows it. He pushed himself harder than his body could tolerate. But even if I don't agree with his reasons for going… at least he showed a few final flashes of that doggedness he taught us."

Ariella sat beside him, nearly putting a hand on his back before deciding it would be inappropriate. She mused, "Your father really is a great man, one that's unfortunately been dealt a string of tragedies. No one would be unaffected after such a life, and the fact that he's done as well as he has says a lot about him. You're strong, too, Khalid. I know you have to put on a brave face in public, but the three of us are always here for you."

Khalid smiled sadly. "Don't worry, I'm not going to cry. I learned early on that was never going to do me any good. But thanks for the encouragement. It means a lot." He turned and asked Marianne, "Is there something else you need to tell me?"

Marianne averted her eyes and said, "Yes. Your father wants to meet with you as soon as you can see him… alone."

Khalid nodded and stood again. "… I understand. Thanks, Marianne. I'll need a few minutes to get dressed for the feast before I go."

Ariella began, "Khalid… ar-."

"Hey, there's no need to say it out loud. And besides… it's going to be fine. I'll still be me," Khalid told her. He faced Dimitri and asked, "Will you walk me there when I'm ready?"

"Of course, Khalid," Dimitri told him, still confused by the vague references regarding what to expect.

When Khalid's door closed so he could change, Dimitri took the opportunity to ask Marianne, "You don't have to gloss over the truth for us… how much time do you think the king has?"

Marianne shook her head as it hung low. "It's difficult to answer that without being able to pin down an exact cause. Everything about it is too hard to predict. It could be several Moons… or it could just as easily be days. At least he seems well enough today."

"You never know," Ariella muttered. "My father was barely ever conscious during his last week. One day his fever seemed to break, and he was lucid as he had been in a month. We thought maybe he was getting better. He died the next morning."

Dimitri frowned. "There's a lot I wish I could change about our pasts. But at least… when the time comes… we'll be able to approach Khalid with some degree of understanding."

The three were startled when Khalid's door swung open without warning. The newly dressed prince hopped down the stairs and motioned for Dimitri to follow.

"I knew I was fast at changing, but I thought you'd at least manage to stand up in my absence," Khalid joked.

The prince exuded fabricated cheeriness as he and Dimitri walked to the quarters of the sovereign. It was not exactly "honest", but Dimitri did not consider it a violation of their promise to not lie or keep secrets. It was just a coping mechanism for Khalid, and they both knew it without having to say anything.

"I heard Marianne is now helping out on the rug Ariella is weaving," Khalid commented as they walked. "Have you offered them your services?"

"Not exactly. They tried to get me involved, but they finally agreed it was a bad idea after I showed them my abilities with fine threads. You give demonstrations to show what is possible, and I give them to show what is not."

"Ha! I like to be optimistic, but I'm trying to stop arguing with the impossible. Maybe you can work on a separate rug for practice. Ella has been working on hers for a long time, and her condition doesn't make it easy for her, either. Still, it was a good hobby for her while I was away."

"It's an interesting design. It includes four types of flowers, apparently one to represent each of us."

"Is that right? What's mine?" Khalid asked with piqued interest.

"Ella called it the Isaphan rose, I believe."

"The rose of the princes! A little on the nose, don't you think?" He then produced a laugh that seemed quite genuine. "Me represented by an elegant rose! Oh, Lorenz would be so annoyed!"

"Supposedly it is quite resilient in many environments, too."

"Not as funny of a motivation, but flattery is always nice. What about the rest of you?"

"Marianne's is something called the butterfly pea," Dimitri recollected.

"Hmm. Not native to Almyra, but maybe that's deliberate. Blue petals, with plenty of medical uses. Makes sense. Go on."

"Ariella picked the lotus for herself."

Khalid pondered the meaning before hypothesizing, "She probably remembers them from the lakes and streams of the Mikdash. The lotus flower sinks into the muddy waters at night, but it survives and rises again as bright as ever in the morning. The lotus never lets circumstances keep it down. Sound like someone you know?"

Dimitri nodded. "Mine was the gladiolus. White ones, tinged red. Associated with war and funerals."

"Also associated with strength and goodness. And every bit as beautiful as the rest."

"I never realized you were such an expert on flowers," Dimitri said with a smile.

"I had a strict teacher. I'm sure Ariella memorized my lesson plans like she did with everything else on my shelf."

Once they reached the deepest room Dimitri was granted access, Khalid turned to his retainer and said, "Thanks for everything. I'm sorry I didn't do better, but hey… we've still got our whole lives ahead of us."

Dimitri could not help but ask, "Khalid… what is happening tonight?"

"Only my father knows for sure, right? But whatever it is, I'm trusting you to stay calm."

"Very well," Dimitri accepted with a sigh.

Khalid smiled. "I'll see you later, Dimitri. I suspect we won't meet again until tonight's show is over."

That prediction held true. Several hours passed as Ariella and Marianne worked on their tapestry while Dimitri alternated between inspecting his armor for defects and conversing with the two women. Khalid never returned before his three retainers were called to the feast at nightfall.

The meal was not held in the usual hall but rather out on the grass between the palace and the adjacent lake. Long rows of cushions and rugs bearing food had been set out. The offering became increasingly grand the closer it approached the royal family on the opposite end. The best spots were reserved for the six lords as well as their families and servants. Additionally, the entire palace staff and other prominent families from Elam were invited. Even Emir Dizhwar and Emira Maysun had arrived unannounced.

Dimitri had underestimated the spectacle of the event. Luxurious tents were pitched around the site for private conversations, and musicians and dancers were even putting on a show.

"This is all a little overwhelming…" he said as he took it all in. Marianne nodded in agreement.

"Well, at least you're dressed for the part today," Ariella told him. "You look great! And I still can't get over how beautiful that dress is, Marianne. It matches your hair perfectly! It's too bad I could never pull it off."

Marianne's hair was by now completely restored to its original blue color. She smiled and replied, "Thank you. You look beautiful, too."

As they walked, Dimitri squinted when he observed a somber conversation between two women. He quietly asked his companions, "Who is Nousha talking to over there?"

Marianne froze up. "That's… Felicitas, Anthony's widow. I should go say something, too."

"We'll come with you," Ariella proposed. "I've only ever seen her in passing a couple times, and I don't think Dimitri has ever met her."

"No, it's best that you not… Felicitas is a bit shy, and this is probably already overwhelming for her. I think she'll be glad to see me, but maybe we should save introductions for another time. Don't worry, I'll be fine," Marianne declined. She walked off without saying more.

"You know… that wonderful girl always finds ways to surprise me. She's almost unrecognizable from her days in that little hut," Ariella mused.

"She is. She really is incredible," Dimitri agreed.

Ariella's face lit up with amusement. "Ha! I won't tell anyone, but you really need to watch how affectionately you say things like that. People will get the wrong idea."

"Sorry… I get that a lot," Dimitri groaned as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The excitement of the party had managed to ease their worries at least a little bit. Satiah and Farjad were in Astane, so Dimitri, Marianne, and Ariella were on their own for the feast. At least, that was what they assumed until Nousha sat down beside them without invitation.

"Don't mind me, I just need a place to eat where no one will emit a reflexive growl when they see me," she told them.

"Surely you aren't that unpopular," Dimitri asserted.

"You'd be surprised, though I'll grant that the situation is a bit different in Saba," Nousha said. She held up the necklace around her neck and expounded, "A group of soldiers there bought this for me. I received no less than five professions of love before I left Maddaban. No one in Elam is nearly brave enough to ever try something like that. Not even your darling prince."

"Did you consider any of their advances?" Marianne asked innocently.

Nousha laughed and answered, "I'm pretty sure most of them were just drunk and teasing, Marianne, but no… I did not. None of them loved me; they just loved the idea of me. If I ever fell in love, which I seriously doubt, it'd be with someone interested in me in spite of my position, not because of it. I already put enough expectations on myself."

Nousha cleverly redirected the conversation away from her love life to debates about favorite foods as they ate. Dimitri did not have much to add, but the discussion lasted long enough to reach the critical moment of the night. King Faruq was helped onto a tall chair so he could address the crowd.

Faruq began with what sounded to be a short benediction in the native Elamite tongue before continuing, "Family, friends, people of Almyra… Peace be upon you all! I am thankful to share this moment with each and every person before me. This feast is held in honor of those who fell in Meteora and the brave warriors who will soon end this war. However, there is more purpose to tonight that must be explained. I know you have heard rumors of my health by now… that I'm ill, perhaps even dying. So, I am taking this opportunity to settle any questions you may have." The king paused before pressing on in a grave tone, "… The rumors are true. Probably almost all of them. I took great care to look presentable for you today, but I am still only half the man I was even a year ago. I've seen it in my reflection… that same pallor of my skin that my father exhibited in his last days. No one knows how much time I have left, but I would be a fool to not make necessary preparations."

Dimitri's heart sank as he finally realized the purpose of the feast. He should have realized the truth much, much sooner.

King Faruq continued, "Much has been spoken and debated about this war. Could it have been avoided? What is its true meaning? As for myself, I never saw this as a war of succession, but rather as a struggle against those who believe it acceptable to draw blood for nothing more than naked ambition. I did not want the question of my heir to affect the course of this conflict, which is why I have not spoken of the matter. But… that wisdom must now bend to circumstances.

"It has become clear to me in recent months that there is only one man who can lead our entire people when I pass on. He has stood by my side every step of the way out of loyalty rather than necessity. He has shown strength, wisdom, and even cunning when the situation demanded for it. He has demonstrated a willingness to make sacrifices for the common good of Almyra."

The king held up a hand as his son stood. "And that is why I, Faruq ibn Bardiya Al Hafeez, King of Kings, hereby nominate my third son and fifth child, Prince James, as heir to the thrones of Elam and Almyra."