Author's note : Thank you Goldspark for reviewing ! I am glad that you find my story pleasing and take the time to point the flaws inside it. Let me answer your critics. First, the part where she jump on the Hoshidian army. True, I wrote it badly and it give the wrong vibe, it should have been read like a sort of desperate move. I will try to not repeat it again. Secondly, the "blazing spell". It isn't a spell at all. To be more precise, when Lora set herself "ablaze", she awake the embers of the First Flame she have inside her to temporarily become the Lord of Cinder she would have been, should she has linked the Fire properly. It's not quite like using an Ember in game, and more like the second phase of the Lords of Cinder boss fight. You won't see her do that much though, the drawbacks are heavy. Sorry for not having written it clearly.
Now that everything is said, good reading to you all !
The Fiery Queen of Nohr : Part 3
The court was in mourning. All traces of the usual politics seemingly disappeared while the funeral procession of the queen was prepared inside the great hall of Krakenburg. Horses have been brought for the procession, for every of those attending to it: the king's concubines and advisers, but also the son of the queen, the young Xander, and his half-sister Camilla. The prince, a fragile blond child, took a quick look at her as she came before starring again at the large doors of the citadel, while the little princess with purple hair stayed still. The coffin was in the heart of the formation, a delicate work of fine glass, silver and gold. The dead queen lied inside of it, dressed in a magnificent black silk gown embellished with gilded ornaments and stitched with little jewels, her hands clasped on her chest, enclosing a black rose. An exceptionally rare flower of Nohr. Just like the queen.
Lora let her horse to be guided by a squire to the place she have been assigned: in the king's suit, among the advisers. She put her hand through her black hair and replaced the silver tiara lightly on her forehead, adjusting the long transparent veil scintillating of an ethereal glow before her face. Originally attached to the dancer's helmet, she was using it as symbol of her mourning, like the concubines were wearing black veil to mask their face. The king arrived shortly after, his face dark and unreadable. When he took place in front of the procession, the massive doors of Krakenburg opened. The coffin was to go around the inner wall of Windmire so the people could pay tribute to the passing queen, before returning to the citadel and be buried inside the royal crypt.
When the funeral cortège arrived in the city, there were already welcomed by the crowd who withdrew respectfully as they passed. Lora scrutinized the faces around her, and saw pain in every of them. She knew the queen loved, even idolized by the people, but it was only now that she could measure to which extend they were devoted to her. Katerina have been there for them, listening to their suffering and showing generosity to the ones in need, a kindness rarely seen in the dark lands of Nohr. And they were now returning it, some even bowing to the ground as the coffin proceeded, wailing heard in the middle of the crowd. When the procession finally returned inside the castle, the king ordered his advisers to leave. The burial would apparently only be done in presence of his concubines, children and himself.
''No. You stay, lady Lora.''
''… Are you sure, milord?''
''Stay.''
She bowed and joined his suit, servants taking the coffin on their shoulder behind them. The now reduced group was going down inside the depth of the citadel, in a place where only the king and most trusted servants could ever go. When they finally arrived inside of the royal crypt, Lora felt an unpleasant dizziness. It was too close, too similar of the cemetery of ash. To her own tomb from where she had to wake up, at the sound of bell. The valets deposited the coffin inside the rectangular pit with infinite finesse, before moving away. The young prince was the first to pay tribute to his mother, muttering some words which were lost in inaudible echoes inside the vault. Then one by one, the concubines paid their tribute to the queen, starting with the mother of the princess Camilla. It was finally the turn of the general. Kneeling, she gazed at the peaceful beauty of Katerina, who seemed to serene that it was like she was only asleep. She had no words. Katerina had not only been her queen. She offered her so much more. Understanding. Advice. Compassion. A presence she felt she never truly appreciated like she should have. And that she could never feel again.
''I will hold my promise. Rest in peace, majesty.'' She said a last.
Lora stood up and went aside the concubines. The king was still staring at his beloved, as if she could wake up from the sheer intensity of his gaze.
''Leave this place, all of you. I need to be alone with my son.''
The women bowed and left with the servants, climbing quietly the stairs with the servants. No one was looking at someone else, seemingly lost in thought or focusing on the path to take. One by one the concubines took junction and left, leaving Lora to walk alongside the first concubine and mother of the little princess Camilla. Lady Evelyn was a powerful sorceress with short hair of the same purple as her daughter, known for her sharp intellect that made her a dreaded woman at the court.
''What terrible tragedy struck us all. The queen was far too young to leave us so suddenly.''
''Were you there in her last moments?'' Asked the general.
''I fear not. Except lady Ania, none of us could attend the queen in her deathbed.''
The third concubine, so. A little woman with fair hair falling into a single braid, and a gifted healer. Lora knew of her prowess, and if even her couldn't save the queen... Whatever killed her was so terrible that she went from healthy to dead in a single night.
''I could not help but notice that you were late at the procession.''
''I had to sign the march order to send help to Nestra against the resurgence of pirate raids.''
''Would you know about the concession they made in exchange?''
''They accepted to reduce taxes on some trades, essentially. I do not know much of it.''
Of course it wasn't a selfless asking from the other woman. Be it for the benefit of the first concubine's multiple connections in the court, or her own only, Lora could only speculate. The two women hardly knew each other, their devotion to the royal couple being their only common tie. Despite numerous encounter around a tea arranged by the queen, as well as the other concubines, there was always a cold between Lora and them, a sort of mutual distrust that never disappeared over time.
''What a disappointment. Who know when such ''details'' would be of great importance.''
''Is it not your domain, lady Evelyn?''
''Wisely observed. Do not forget to stay out of it.''
Behind the smile was the poison, a message clear as crystal. Offended, Lora replied curtly.
''Our queen is dead, and yet you speak of tax. Remain in your little plots while I protect the king and his kingdom.''
The smile disappeared instantly, replaced by a dangerous glow inside the concubine's eyes.
''Each of our neighbours will try to take advantage of his grief. To gain power using our loss of today. Even here, many are thinking only of increasing their influence to the detriment of Nohr. Politics are as dangerous as blades, and I pity you for not being able to discern any of it. Stay carefree on the battlefield while I protect the king and his kingdom.''
Evelyn's words shut Lora down with implacable accuracy, tearing her previous statement to shreds and leaving her incapable to answer anything to the rightness of the statement.
''Since you were speaking about it,'' The woman pursued more civily. ''why would you not resolve this little mess at Nestra yourself? You might be able to do something about the little mouses muttering against us, those very ones that led the pirates to the ships trading with us. Who know, if you don't scare them too much, they might even lead us to their hoshidian contacts and give us leverage against them. This, if you don't act as brutishly as one could fear, would definitively help out our dear sovereign.''
The general kept quiet, leading the concubine to smirk and caress her daughter head. After a few dozen of meters, they took stairs leading to the noble quarter of Krakenburg with the servant, leaving the warrior alone next to the great entrance hall. After a time, Lora took the direction of the gates and called a servant.
''Have my wyvern prepared.''
She never felt so humiliated. Even being killed by a horde of rats didn't made her furious to this point. And she had no mean of taking her revenge on the ground where she had been defeated.
The great theater of Cyrkensia, the capital of the small port nation of Nestra, was cleverly built to create the atmosphere necessary for artistic performances. The sunlight penetrated by the high cupola of glass and fell directly on the stage surrounded by water, leaving the benches in a comfortable half-light and allowing a perfect appreciation of the spectacle. It was even more true for the tribune of honor, where the most eminent visitors could gaze at the whole scene without even moving their head. It's only seat was currently used by the king of Nohr. Great lover of the opera's performances, king Garon was such an esteemed guest that special sessions were always held in his honor, the present one being furthermore dedicated to the recent support of the nohrian army in defeating a pirate fleet. It was, however, more solemn, more melancholic than usual, in accordance with the mood of the now widower sovereign. The dancers swirled slowly and gracefully, violins accompanying their moves. His royal guard was standing behind him, keeping eyes on their surrounding to discern an eventual threat for their king's life. Among them stood Lora, who had been expressly invited by the king to rejoin the lodge. The rumors among the soldiers were all the more lively, to the great displeasure of the general. How many times had she caught a conversation, or worse, a bet on the training grounds, about the probability that she would become the king's next conquest...
The tone of the music was changing. Subtly, then stronger and stronger, a piano was accompanying the violins, creating a new harmony. One of the dancer then started to sing, a stirring and gentle voice among the instruments. Lora listened, fascinated. There were words, but of no spoken language, maybe made specially for the song. But they sounded clearly, carrying with them a whirlwind of emotion. A weird feeling was rising inside her, a nostalgia sweet and bitter all at once, a different melancholy from the solemn sadness of the previous rhythm. It was almost painful, a suffering wrapped with beauty. Images emerged from her memories, as if they were conjured by the softly flying notes. Irina of Carim, the blind nun counting her antic miracles. Yorshka, fragile daughter of dragon, naively asking her if she came to her prison by the air. Sirris, knight of the moon, pledging fidelity to her. Shira, the antic knight of the Ringed City praising her for becoming a divine spear. Queen Katerina, smiling as she winced over the bitterness of her first tea. Anri sitting close of her, contemplating the fire as they were progressing toward their goal. Anri laughing after she disarmed him during a spar. Anri dashing toward the enemy, trusting her to cover his back… She suddenly realized. The face she had in mind, shrouded with warmth, was not the one of the young knight. It was one with blond hair and proud features, sweetened by a caring smile. A now way too familiar face.
The music stopped. The dancers bowed toward the tribune. A slow hand clapping. The king was applauding, his visage now relaxed compared to the intense frown he was showing before. Lora applauded too, burying the what she saw inside her mind. The song was easily the most beautiful thing she ever heard.
''General, we have to speak. Alone.''
The royal guard obeyed as soon as the king spoke and left the tribune, leaving only Lora and Garon. She stayed silent, unknowing of what her liege had in mind.
''This tribune used to have two seats. Yet another thing that remind me of her absence.''
''Her death left a void in the heart of every of us.'' She agreed. ''Nothing could ever replace her.''
''This is why I will not marry again. The court already know.''
''I see.''
The fidelity of her king to his late wife should have made her proud. Why this twinge in her heart? She rejected it as the king rose up, but when she wanted to bow he held her by the shoulder, stopping her movement.
''Do no bow yet. I still haven't told you''
''What do you mean, milord?'' She asked, still looking down.
''I decided to retire you of the front line. From now on, you will serve me at the court, as advisor.''
The enormity of the proposal stunned her for a second and she rose her eyes, incredulous shining ember against opaque brown mirror. Advisor? It was… absurd. First of all, she was still the royal arm master. Something that made her above the other generals. But advisor? She would be, without a doubt, the closest authority to the king. But… It wasn't what she wished.
''You seem confused.''
''I… I can't possibly accept such honor. I am your knight, your general if you command it. I have no place in the court.
''Are you refusing my offer?''
''I simply would not be able to serve you as well in the council as on the battlefield. There are other generals who would fit better.''
''Lora, I will be straight.'' Cut Garon firmly. ''You live for battle, and I never saw you smile as brightly as when you wield a weapon. But you are the one among the generals I trust the most to subordinate your own interest to those of the kingdom, making you my best choice. Do you understand?''
''I understand'' She uttered slowly while swallowing her protestations.
She was no mound-maker, a mad ghoul wandering through battlefields in search of blood. But she could not deny the exaltation of fighting, the waiting of new challenge she was in, especially her sparring with the king. To be confined in the citadel…
''There is another reason that request your presence at the court. My son Xander will soon start his training. As my royal arm master, you will be the one who will make him a man worthy of Siegfried.''
''Does he not already have instructors?''
When the face of the king darkened, she knew something was up.
''I was informed of… rumors. I fear that once again, you are the only one I can wholly trust.''
''It will be an honor to train the prince.''
''Then it is settled.'' Said the king, breaking the mutual gaze. ''Follow me. The earl of Nestra await our visit.''
Lora's cheek heated in shame when she realized how she had argued against Garon, crossing his gaze without the least of the respect she was meant to uphold. She followed quickly, ignoring the looks of curiosity from the royal guards. The first to talk, to insinuate anything, would become her dummy for the next training day.
The weighted iron sword struck the mannequin over and over, the dry sound of blows accompanied by the panting of the blond child who was wearing to realize the sequence which was imposed on him. His last hit missed an inch the top of the dummy and bounced on the hard wooden arm. He tried to make up for his mistake but too late: the weapon escaped his grip when hitting the helmet on the "head" of the dummy in a clumsy back-handed strike. When he picked it up and went back on guard, a pair of firm hands seized him from behind and slightly corrected the position of his arms and legs.
''Your stance is too stiff. Tightening your arm's muscles that much will tire them faster. Try again.''
The child realized the sequence and this time the blow stroke curtly the side of the dummy's helmet before finishing with an upward thrust.
''Again.''
For some time the sword was waved around before the instructor intervened again, lifting the boy's left arm and the iron shield attached to it.
''Your shield is hanging uselessly. Keep it in a way that always protect your side.''
In a burst of flame a small shield appeared on the arm of the weapon master—a magnificent blue shield engraved with a white flower—making the child slightly step back. Drawing the sword at her side she took a stance, causing her pupil to do the same.
''Like this. Now, emulate me.''
The woman then moved fast as lightning. Strike, riposte, back-hand, high cut, high back-hand, upward thrust. The child imitated her, although more inaccurately and slower.
''Good. Keep it on.''
But soon the boy was on the verge of collapsing, sweat falling from his forehead and arms shaking under the weight of his weapons.
''Enough. Rest for now, we will continue later.''
''Yes, arm master.'' Weakly replied the child before sitting, obviously struggling to not simply fall on the ground.
Lora refrained from sighing in a way very far from the dignity she had to show to the prince. The young Xander was in a lamentable shape, but sadly it was unavoidable: he was born with a very weak constitution. No, her exasperation rooted in a worse thing than that. The prince was, in all honesty, talentless for battle. In handling of the weapon and the use of his body, there was no trace of a faster progression, no quickly gained reflexes, nothing, and it made everything more difficult. Herself became knight instead of priestess because of the exceptional stamina and fighting spirit she exhibited very young, but Xander had nothing of that. To make him a warrior capable of wielding Siegfried will be an arduous task. But far from impossible, she muttered to herself. After all, he had shown to her qualities that omen of a great knight: perseverance, seriousness, and willingness to endure hardship. All of this made her own role easier than she expected, especially giving her few memories of her own training. Numerous were the shirkers and braggarts ignoring with more or less subtlety the orders of their instructors, apparently thinking their noble birth gave them some sort of divine knowledge and right of knighthood, the higher the birth the worse they were. Xander was in this regard a model of deference. The boy's shyness was a factor for sure, she thought after some time. He rarely talked, never starting the conversation or crossing her gaze. Garon confided her once that the prince was apparently trying to get rid of that trait by talking to him, half laughing and half grieving to appear so intimidating in the eyes of his own son.
Seeing that her pupil was still catching his breath, she considered giving him a pinch of the green blossom that sprouted in the swamp of Farron. In small quantities, these rare herbs, of which she still possessed some, prodigiously increased the speed at which the body recovered its efforts. But she rejected the idea. Getting used to stimulants to build strength was one of the safest ways to lose all effectiveness without them, as she had found out herself. Having been accustomed to the incredible vigor those plants offered for a time, she found herself unable to fight properly when her reserves had run out, causing her many death as humiliating as stupid. It was better to acknowledge the current limits and to not try to surpass them too fast.
''That shall be enough for today.''
The prince nodded. The weapons were left to the servants of the training room and they left to the royal quarters. Lora kept an eye on every corner, every maid and butler passing close, ready to take a blow for her little prince. This defiance was due to a gruesome event that happened earlier: one of the concubine was found dead, throat sliced in her own bed. While a short blade of hoshidian making was found in the room, no one in the court was fooled: The murder have been made by nohrian hand. The woman made herself powerful enemies among the nobility, and it was unsurprising that she would suffer from it one day. But to go as far as killing her inside the castle… Garon's fury have been terrible to see. The guards on duty were sentenced to the mines for at best failing their duty, and at worst being accomplices of the crime. If the rumours among the soldiers were any indication, Lora feared the second was true. And since the killer haven't been caught, she was now forced to escort the prince in every of his travels inside the castle until the situation was resolved. And she still had to come to the council. Leaving the little prince to one of the former maid of queen Katerina, she passed the great doors secluding the part of the citadel reserved to the royal family.
''General.'' Bowed the guards. ''The council await in the throne hall.''
''Thanks, soldiers.'' She answered, recognizing them as former subordinates. They tended to call her general instead of advisor or arm master. ''Anything to report?''
When the two of them exchanged a deep stare and verified that no one was here except them and her, she knew it would not be some mere rumor. One of the guard went to the corner of the corridor and stayed here as sentry, ready to report anyone coming while the other started to speak in a hushed voice.
''A corpse has been found in the prison last night. According to the jailers it was a prisoner trying to escape, but the guards swear that no one died among the detainees. And the corpse was strange.''
''Strange in which way?'' Asked Lora, inquisitive.
''The face was entirely calcined. They said a torch fell on it, but the clothes were not even scorched.''
''What happened to the body?''
''The jailers got rid of it, or at least what was left of it. Threw into the pit around the citadel, just like that.''
''Are you sure about the truthfulness of this?''
''My own brother is the one who saw the corpse as the jailers took it away, sir. I vouch for him.'' Swore the man.
''I see. Good work, soldier.''
''This is nothing general. Without you, the pirates would have sent my head join the fishes.'' He answered, touching a large scar on his neck.
Lora had been forced to find a way to not sorely depend of information shared by the council, lest she was to be swallowed inside the meander of false pretense and subterfuge. Number of butler and maid were working of the behest of powerful protectors, reporting them the slightest action or talking to them, but she had no grasp on this parallel society. On the same way, she never had anyone committed to her in the court or among the nobility, denying her yet another way of gaining information. It was only after one of the captains of the city watch gave her a piece of background regarding a conflict between two noble houses that she started to see an opportunity. But when a scout asked to explain the exact circumstance of a revolt in the brass mines gave her an accurate report about the root of the rebelling, at this moment she had an illumination. Her sources were already presents and ready to help, their loyalty gained from numerous victories on the battlefield and the prospect of her favor: the norhian army.
From this moment, she started to ask report not only about military matters, but also about recent events, underground affairs, and even mundane rumors. And to her great surprise, it worked. Slowly, she received numerous information that she never thought being able to possess, even insight of events across the whole country. It was far from perfect, she had still a lot of struggle to extract good information from rumor and had an hard time to make her point in the council, not even talking about discerning a plot from separate actions on the bigger picture. But she was not defenseless anymore.
Lora left after the two guards saluted her, dark thoughts in mind. Only the head burnt, and nothing else? She did not like it at all. Too suspect for a mundane failed escape or a simple accident, and magic was behind it without a doubt. What have done this man to be killed in such a way, preventing his identification? There was only one possibility coming to her: he had tie to the assassination. He may even have been the killer, now victim of his employer. After all, there was very few people who would come into the jails of the castle, and even guards only came during irregulars visits since the jailers were well armed and numerous to prevent any escape by themselves. Without the indiscretion of one soldier, it could have been a secret forever… She will have to talk to the king about this after the council session. Coming into the great hall she bowed to Garon and took place at the right side of the throne.
''The matter of the day is the exploitation of the southern lands, reclaimed by both the lords Orion and Claude.'' Announced a herald.
It was the most hated part of her duties, inspiring her endless frustration over her lack of expertise and disgust over the pettiness of the court. But all of this was for the kingdom of Nohr. For the sake of her king. But the gods be damned, she regretted the days where all her problems could be resolved with sword.
Author's note : If you are curious, the song I listened while writing the opera part was "Kainé Salvation Orchestral, updated version" from Nier Automata.