Ascension (Royals of Aeterna Book 1)

by J Haney

  “Protocol states that upon the death of any member of the Monarchy, all family sects must return to Aeterna. It is a matter of National Security. We must return to the consulate, and you must go before the council and be readied to be crowned. The country cannot be without a leader.”

  “Grandpa told me I had to wait for their bodies. I can’t leave them here. I tried to call this morning, but it’s Labor Day, and this country doesn’t work.”

  “It will be at least three more days until we can even think about requisitioning the bodies for global portal transport. You must appear in Aeterna before it descends into chaos. Our country must have a leader. If you do not return to stake your claim, the Lady Adria, your aunt, becomes the next to take the throne. She is biased and against everything your father the King stands for. Will you forsake them and their legacy?”

  I growl. “UGH! Fine, just order you the stuff you need and the car. I won’t be able to ride the bike with what I will need to be wearing.” I can hear his stomach growl. “While you’re at it, eat something. Dawn will get your food, but Marco will take care of your search needs.”

  Dawn and Marco are my integrated bots. Dawn is basically a personal chef. I tell her what I want, and she tells me what I need. I pop the ingredients into the foodservice station, and in like fifteen minutes or less, I have food. Marco is a high tech housemate. He schedules- plays music, orders everything, he’s just damn convenient.

  “I uh- think I’ll pass on the food, till I get somewhere they actually cook it with their hands.” Zane shakes his head. I swear he’s a ninety-year-old man in disguise, with how averse to the tech he is. “I can call a taxi. I have my watch, I just need a card to connect.”

  “You’re really going to trust taking a taxi?” I shake my head. “Whatever, but you still need a shower and clothes. You smell. Dawn, card number. Measure and order him clothes.”

  I have to go to the consulate, which means a change of clothes. I can dress the part of the Princess, but I hate it. I’m working my way into a dress that takes me way longer than necessary to get into. Zane has already been in and gotten out of the shower by the time I need help with the back of my dress.

  “Zane, could you help me with the back?” I ask, walking into the room and trying not to trip over the bottom of this thing. I turn my back, and I feel his hands steady me by the hip and shoulder.

  “It uh-” He clears his throat. “Zips and buttons?” He tugs, and up goes the zipper. I’m sure he’s gotten a good look at my ass as I’m wearing a thong and garters. Just because I’m in mourning doesn’t mean I am gonna stop being me. His large hands make surprisingly good time of the intricate little buttons. I stiffen as his knuckles graze my back, then fingers run up the center of my spine and across my shoulder blades. “I do hope there is a jacket. The council will not be pleased by this ink, Princess.”

  I straighten my back. “Please don’t call me- Princess. I hate being called that. I have what I need. Is the car almost here?” I ask, turning to look at him. He’s clean, but not clean-shaven. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him scruffy, ever. His bloodied clothes have been replaced by a crisp white button down shirt and navy slacks. Our colors of mourning. He is an Officer in our Royal Guard, and they are required to show their fealty to the crown in their stripes. If the King passes, they are to display a stripe on their arms for each Monarchy member they have carried. It’s as I look at him that I see he has three stripes displayed. Three? That would mean that he not only does he intend to carry my father, but that he carried my Opa and Great Papa. I look him over. That would make him at least eighty. I know we have extended lives, but I didn’t realize he was so- His voice shakes me from my thoughts.

  “I’m sorry, but the car is here. It’s time to go.”

  I nod, walking away to grab my stuff. After getting my jacket in place, I see Zane at the door waiting for me. Hat and glasses in place. I hand him the keys to lock up.

  5

  T he twenty-minute drive to the consulate was had in complete silence. Princess Maya sat on one side of the stretch Towncar with me on the other. I called my contact there to let them know we were on our way, and he informed me that our King’s death was ruled an assassination and that the local and national news broadcast stations were already clamoring to get pictures of the grieving Princess. The problem? She didn’t much look to be grieving. At least she wouldn’t to these fucking Normals. Normals and Paranormals, that is how they classify us, doesn’t matter that we have our own world as it were. Just beyond the portals was our real home. A place with its own cultures, countries, governing bodies. Different types of people, we aren’t all just what they’ve labeled us.

  To the Normals or humans, Princess Maya’s stony exterior will seem cold, distant. They go on what they can see, but never what they could feel. I can feel the despair that circles her, that nips at the corners of her facade. Just because she wears a brave face doesn’t mean she isn’t in pain. This pain should have triggered her. I mean, one would think the loss of a parent or sibling would be enough. Yet here she sits, her power and her form locked inside. I will have to monitor her closely for any changes. For the Vēsṭigara, the first change can be excruciating. Both in length and pain. We can help ease it, but only if we can identify it first.

  As we approach the main entrance, I can already see the reporters.

  “Princess, do you wish to reroute? Go in through the service entrance?”

  “Please, these people don’t know me as Princess, and I’m not ready for them too.” Maya looks toward me for a brief moment before watching out the black tinted window.

  “Take it around,” I order the driver. Princess Maya may not think that a real driver is practical in a nation with cars that drive themselves, but I like to be able to have someone that can take fast direction and do as they are told, not programmed.

  With a nod of his head, we are coasting past the infestation of shutterbugs and are on the way to the service entrance. The car stops, and after a cursory glance, I step out first. Another glance and I spy a man hiding behind a dumpster. Really? I shake my head and approach.

  “Y-You, stay back!” He stammers, obviously seeing my claws as they broke through my fingers. He starts snapping pictures.

  “Give me the camera.” I snarl.

  “N- no. I have rights. I’m a member of the press.”

  “You do have rights, and they stop at the end of that road.” I point behind him. “This is sovereign ground, ruled by the laws of my land. In my land, you do not take pictures of the family without consequence.” I grab him by the throat, lifting him to the full extension of my arm, so roughly four feet off the ground. “Hand over the camera or your entrails. Your decision.”

  He lifts the camera with a shaking hand as he proceeds to piss himself.

  “Zane! Enough.” Princess Maya calls with force.

  Camera in hand and trying to avoid the pond pooling on the cement, I drop the little maggot before tearing out the memory card and smashing the contraption in my hands. The man snivels and swears under his breath. I turn back to him but hear the Princess again.

  “You’re a lucky bastard, my Princess has a soft spot for your types.” I put my attention back on Princess Maya. “Shall we?”

  “You will purchase him a new one. We don’t want them seeing us like that. Daddy wanted me to unite, not scare them to death.” Princess Maya criticizes.

  “I apologize, I will try to be more mindful in the future.” Using my passcode, I open the door, and we go inside.

  After six standardized security checks, including blood and retinal scan, we can access the consulate’s main building. Here is where the obvious weight of Princess Maya’s station begins to take its toll. The genuflection and shrouded condolences are shared as I sit back silently, here as in every other place connected to Aeterna, I am basically furniture. I am present only in so far as I am useful and silent.

  She receives a note as they are making the preparations for our trans
port, and I see her face change. Feel the anger surge off of her. Feeling that this may be the moment of her breaking, I step away from the wall. My sudden movement prompts the Royal Guard's advancement from Fjall, a mountainous region of our land. A Mechkan or as the normals have dubbed them, a bear shifter. This particular Mechkan is Cale, a high guard, typically seen with the Contessa Valaria Cosumos, who was not present.

  “Step away from the Barron.” He warned he may not be as tall, but he was rather wide. The Mechkan Guard were not easy to drop.

  I smirk. “Do not get between the High Queen and me.” I look to Princess Maya. I called her what they all know she is to be. “High King Maynard Meleke is dead. All hail Queen Maya Meleke.” I say softly and watch as the genuflection commences. Amongst the bows, I beeline for her. “Come, let’s step aside,” I suggest, for once she does not fight me. “There is a private chamber for the Royals. I’m sure you are tired and hungry. It’s nearly time for the afternoon service.” I open a set of heavy ornate wooden doors allowing her to pass by me.

  The doors close, and she lets out a long angsty growl.

  “Lady Adria, my aunt, has sent word that she has everything under control. Told me to take my time." Princess Maya falls into a chair. "Nothing about my parents." She shakes her head.

  “Many may not say a word. Mourning is the Normals way. Not ours. We know there is much beyond this. Your parent’s journey is starting anew. You will see them again.” I hesitate to touch her. It is not permitted unless I am escorting or protecting her, but her vulnerability tugs at me. I break protocol and lay my hand on her shoulder. “I know you will make them proud.”

  6

  Z ane Coreleali just broke a primary law in touching me. Not that I would say anything. I’ve been touched by more than a few of our guards. My mom made a point of having each and every one transferred. I place my hand on his and look up at him. His typically hard sapphire eyes seem to cut through to the quick, then fill with confusion.

  He pulls his hand away as the door opens, and in comes the afternoon food service. Quickly he takes steps to ensure my safety. Taking the food trays, inspecting, even tasting to be sure there are no poisons. He orders away the plate of roasted lamb but keeps the smoked Atlantic Salmon and the Cornish hen.

  “Find some Gala apples.” He orders. The attendant nods, never looking up at me and backs out of the room. Zane fusses over, preparing my plate. “Would you like wine, a cocktail, spritzer, or one of those soft drinks?” He points to the cooler. He has already sipped the wine.

  “We don’t have what I need here.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to get the ache to go away from falling asleep sitting up.

  He looks at me, confused. “Tell me what you need, and it shall be acquired.” He sets the tray before me.

  That is such a loaded question. “Well, if you must know a shot of tequila. Besides that, a screaming orgasm, of course. Best stress reliever I’ve ever found.”

  His eyes stay fixed on my tray. “Princess, if you are in need of a release, I can make arrangements for one of your suitors. If you would give me their information, I can get them permission to serve you as you require.”

  I give a dismissive wave, “The normals are good for a quick fuck and when I want to treat them like a mouse. Today much more is needed, and I don’t have time for that.”

  “Would you like me to arrange a more suitable lover when we return home? We do have services for the Royal court.”

  I bite my lip as he doesn’t seem phased by me in the least. “You’re telling me that doesn’t come in your job description? You are to do anything I ask, are you not? What if I told you I had a taste for the Royal guard?”

  He scoffs. “Then I would say many stupid men are to be put to death. You know full well that we are never to touch your Highness. To do so is a death sentence. Though orders trump whims, my will belongs to my Princess.”

  Now may not be the right time, but one day I will see what Zane has been packing around all these years. “Your Princess orders you to eat.” I nod to my tray. I’m not really hungry.

  Zane may have eaten most of my lunch, but I made sure to take care of an apple and hide a couple in my bag. Time to take the portal. I hate portals. They always make me sick at my stomach.

  Stepping through, the first thing I see of my home is the lake out front with all the water features. It’s beautiful and peaceful. I barely step out of the way when Zane comes through. My hand is over my mouth, and I’m waiting on my apple to make a reappearance.

  “It helps if you hold your breath.” He says, exhaling slowly, is that a smile playing at his stoic features?

  “Alright, mister smarty pants. How about you escort me to my Grandpa and help me figure out what we’re about to be hit with.”

  He nods, and we start the walk up the steps that will take us into the Great Hall. The room where my parent’s thrones stand growing cold.

  I breathe in a quick intake of air. Knowing I will never see my parents sitting there ever again breaks my heart. I sniff to keep the tears at bay.

  “Grandpa said he’d be here. I assume in the family quarters.”

  Zane nods again. Basically, this is his default setting. In public, he goes on the high alert type of autopilot. I hate this from anyone. Just makes it worse that I’ll be with him day in and day out.

  “My stuff back in Rhode Island, can you do something about getting it all here?” I ask of him as we start making the trek across the castle.

  “Yes.” He answers glibly. The halls are full of servants and those others who frequent our court. I don’t really know who most of them are. They’ve just always sorta mulled about. I get bows and curtsies as we are passed by, which only solidifies my position. When I was just Princes Maya, there was not nearly this much fuss. The thing about castles is they’re huge. Ours is no different. It’s nearly a quarter-mile walk to the family room! Zane does manage to do his job well. He keeps several would-be advisors from disturbing us. We arrive at the Family Gathering room, and Zane opens the doors but does not follow me inside. This room is off-limits to one in his rank.

  The room is vast, with warm touches of neutral color. Deep brown walls, cream details, and at the heart of the seating area is my Grandpa. He stands, seeing me.

  “Little cub.” He softly smiles. I swear he’s got less and less hair every time I see him.

  I run to him, wrapping my arms around him tightly. “Grandpa.” I let him hold me and lend me some of his strength because I’m going to need it.

  7

  P rincess Maya spent the better part of a two hours conversing with her Grandfather. Try as I might, to ignore the conversation, the walls, though made of stone, are significantly gapped. This makes for easy eavesdropping. Though the Royal Guard members are sworn to secrecy, interesting conversations do have a way of floating around.

  As I stand as a silent sentry, I am joined by Atreau, Princess Maya’s Grandfather’s loyal guard. From the way he picks at his teeth, I would say he had been allowed to have a meal.

  “Is my Lord Wasi still giving council?” He asks, holding back a burp. I swear the man should be put in stocks for how he represents himself.

  “He is with our Princess.” I square my shoulders as I’m scrutinized over.

  He chuffs, “You look thoroughly, Americanized.”

  I glance over myself. The dress was considered appropriate as semi-formal in the United States. Here, however, where we wore more tailored clothing, it could be considered lax. “I wear what my Princess deems appropriate. I-” My words are cut off by the sound of a bell. My head snaps in its direction.

  “The Lady Adria.” An attendant announces. All guards and staff stop cold. We square up and cast our eyes downward as the commoner’s bow, respectively. The Lady Adria is Princess Maya’s Aunt, sister to our fallen King, and therefore acting regent if Princess Maya refuses formal coronation.

  I swallow as I feel her eyes roam over me upon her paced approach. I can feel the lust that pul
ses off of her. I always feel it in her presence. We had been a thing many suns ago, but her position kept me at length, and I soon learned just how deranged she truly is. Something that I can never reveal as doing so would be admitting to breaking laws and forfeit not only my position but possibly my life.

  “Officer Coreleali.” She purrs inches from me. “How good it is to see you, even if it is under unpleasant circumstances.” Her long purple nail traces my jaw as her voice holds a sultry tone. “I am in such a state, perhaps you will come and see me later?” She finishes in a whisper.

  “Lady Adria,” I say flatly. “My fealty to our Princess takes precedent-”

  “But of course.” She bats her long lashes at me as she looks me over once more. Her eyes fix on my arm, and suddenly I am grasped by it. “You have been marked?” There is an alarm in her voice. “By whom?” She demands.

  “My Lady, by the King, your brother, moments before his passing.”

  Her grip tightens with the strength of her position, and I am pulled forcefully through the family chamber door. Princess Maya and his Lord Wasi lookup.

  “He is blood bound?” Lady Adria roars. “Him!” I am pushed toward Princess Maya as Lady Adria shreds the fabric of my shirt. “It’s sacrilege!”

  “That is a blessing of the King.” Lord Wasi’s lips curl as he looks up at me. “Looks like someone else has just gotten a promotion.”

  My eyes narrow. “My Lord?” I question.

  “It is simple, a blood oath to the line of Ascension means that you too must rise to the occasion. General Byroni will retire, and you will assume the position of protector and advisor to the Queen.” Lord Wasi looks to Princess Maya. “The King is dead, long live the Queen.” Taking my arm, he places her trembling hand over the still very fresh wounds. “All hail Queen Maya.” He announces. Heads drop, and servants bow. That is all it takes, a single proclamation, and her position cannot be challenged.