The Empty Throne

by Cayla Kluver

  My mind was racing through possibilities; then my breath caught as a name surfaced. Marcus Farrier could easily have gotten someone into the ballroom. I had previously made a halfhearted attempt to ask Tom about the Constable—now it seemed imperative to do so.

  “What do we do, Anya?” Ione whispered, a quaver in her voice, her face paling right in front of me.

  “The only thing we can do—keep our eyes open for anyone acting strangely.”

  “I’m afraid. And I’m sorry, but I want to go home.”

  I put my arms around her. “It’s all right. You want to feel safe, and for you that means returning to Chrior. I understand that—there’s no need to apologize.”

  “What about you? Where do you feel safe?”

  I sighed, feeling feverishly unsettled. “I don’t think there’s any place anymore where I feel safe. I see danger everywhere. I sense it everywhere. If the day comes when I again feel safe, maybe I, too, will have found home.”

  Ione and I fell silent, listening to the birds, our cheeks brushed by a cooling breeze that I, at least, found welcome. Before long, Davic joined us, and I was finally prevailed upon to stroll on the grounds. But despite the brightness of the spring day, everything seemed bleak and unwelcoming, making it easy for my thoughts to travel to dark and sinister places.

  Did the Queen’s murder have anything to do with Illumina’s desire to rule? Could she have had a hand in the assassination? My heart told me no. The Queen had become a surrogate parent to her after her father’s death, her mother having died in childbirth. And the risk to Illumina would be high if any involvement on her part were discovered—not only would she forfeit her claim to the throne, but she would face banishment from the Realm. And there was no need to run such a risk. The Great Redwood had already foretold the Queen’s death, and, at a mere fourteen years of age, my cousin had many years of wearing the Laura—the Crown of Laurels—ahead of her.

  I rubbed my forehead, wishing I could talk to Zabriel. But he needed to mourn—now would not be an appropriate time for me to raise questions about his mother’s killer. If he wanted to talk, he would find me.

  Then another possibility occurred to me. Could the Queen’s death be connected in some way to the activities of the Fae-haters in the Warckum Territory? This was an almost more frightening prospect, as well as a likelier one. What better way to stir up hatred between the races? The members of the Anti-Unification League in Chrior would be more than willing to lay blame at the Governor’s feet, even though the assassin had himself been Fae.

  “Are you with us, Anya?” Davic asked. “You seem far away.”

  “I’m fine. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking about the Queen’s murder. Someone else has to have been involved.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a conspiracy, you know. Falk and one of his sons died during their protest at the Winter Solstice celebration, and another was arrested. The only son who got away clearly carried a grudge. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

  “I know. But I have a hard time believing it’s that simple.”

  “You’ll sleep better if you let it be simple.”

  “It’s not better sleep that I want.” A seed of irritation was beginning to flourish inside me, fed by the cramps that had started in my stomach and now were creeping into muscles throughout my body. “It’s justice for the Queen.”

  “Maybe we should go back inside?” Ione interjected, her eyes flicking between me and Davic, no doubt aware of my change in mood. “Some lunch might be a good idea. We skipped breakfast and it’s hard to handle stress on an empty stomach.”

  Though what my body wanted would not be found in the dining room, I turned and walked with my friends back toward the mansion, wondering if I would see my father this day. I sighed. His thoughts about me would probably be similar to mine about Zabriel. He’d want me to mourn and let him and Luka worry about who was behind the Queen’s assassination. But I didn’t think I could do that. And that meant Zabriel probably couldn’t, either.

  Chapter Thirty

  THE EMPTY THRONE

  It was late afternoon before my father emerged from discussions with Luka, the Governor, and Zabriel to assert his presence and position. As the Lord of the Law, he called the Fae delegation and Ambassadors together for a conference, ironically in the same reception hall that had hosted the first meeting between the leaders of the races in more than seventeen years. Despite the number of people gathered, the room was frighteningly still. It was difficult to comprehend that one of those leaders, so vibrant and proud but a few days ago, was now dead.

  Zabriel entered after everyone else had taken their seats. None of us had seen the Prince since his mother had been struck down, and it looked as though he hadn’t slept at all, the dark circles under his eyes especially prominent against his abnormally pallid skin. Presumably out of respect for her, he was dressed in a traditional Fae tunic over leggings, his wings visible where they lay furled against his back. Though everything about him resonated with sadness, his expression when he stood beside my father to face his people was resolute. He had mourned and was ready to make the necessary decisions. Though my heart ached for him, his attitude gave me confidence. I was proud that he was my cousin, proud that he was the Prince, whether he ultimately chose to rule in Chrior or not.

  “There are decisions that must be made, and a reminder that must be issued,” my father began, and my twitchy nervous system sent uncomfortable impulses in all directions—my skin itched, my muscles ached, and my temperature soared. If it had been at my disposal, I would have emptied a syringe of Cysur into my veins right in front of everyone, for the drug that was responsible for my symptoms could also have allayed them. I licked my lips, for it had been three days since my near-death experience with the drug, and my system was telling me it was hungry.

  “The decisions are primarily Zabriel’s as the Queen’s son,” my father was saying, “but the reminder comes from me. Under our rules of succession, the throne now stands empty. However, there is no void in leadership. The Queen named her father Steward and put him in charge of the Realm in her absence, and he will remain in that position until a new ruler is crowned. A member of the Queen’s Blades has already been dispatched to carry the news of her death and the status of the throne to Chrior.”

  Murmurs and a few grumbled complaints rolled through the room—the members of the Fae contingency reflected the feelings of the Fae people: some supported the Prince, others believed him unsuitable to rule because of his human blood and lack of elemental connection; some favored reunification with the humans, others were separatists; some had always thought Ubiqua a great Queen, others thought her rule illegitimate, the rightful line of succession flowing through her brother Enerris’s bloodline. But in the end, all were relieved that the status quo could be maintained for the time being—that no rush to place the Laura on the rightful heir’s head was necessary.

  Raising his hands to quiet the room, my father spoke once more. “Prince Zabriel would now like to address you in your roles as leaders within the Faerie Realm as well as members of the Faerie people.”

  My cousin thereupon stepped forward. “In consultation with my uncle Cyandro, I have come to several decisions. First, the delegation that arrived with the Queen will return with her body to Chrior. Ambassadors Aster and Oersted will remain here in Tairmor to help keep the lines of communication open between humans and Fae.”

  Zabriel looked around the room until he found where the mentioned officials were seated, then spoke directly to them.

  “Ambassadors, you will be given the opportunity to pay your respects to Queen Ubiqua tonight in a simple ceremony of remembrance.”

  Scanning the members of the delegation itself, he added, “The rest of you will prepare for departure in the morning, although you are most welcome to attend tonight’s ceremony if you so
desire.”

  The easiest of the necessary decisions had now been communicated, and I saw my cousin gathering his resolve to address the next issue. Before he spoke, he slowly unfurled his magnificent turquoise-rimmed black wings, the translucent membrane filtering and diverting some of the sunlight coming through the windows. While I had never thought about the more official aspects of Zabriel’s upbringing, it was clear Queen Ubiqua had schooled him well. His own sense of the dramatic didn’t hurt, either.

  “Since I did not arrive with the Fae delegation, I will not be among those returning to Chrior tomorrow. The death of the Queen has changed the circumstances of all Fae, including my own, but this is not the time for rash decision making. Nor is rash decision making necessary. As my uncle has made clear, no void in power exists in our Realm. I will thus give careful consideration to my future with the intention of making a wise decision about the course I will follow. In the meantime, my original indication that I will stay here among my human relations stands.”

  Again, voices rose within the room, the members of the Council, the ambassadors, and a few of the Blades passing comments and complaints back and forth. Though the conduct of my fellow Fae was akin to recalcitrant schoolchildren exchanging notes, Zabriel and my father tolerated the outbursts with stoic expressions. It was better to let each member of the delegation absorb Zabriel’s announcement in his or her own way.

  After a time, my father again called for quiet, and Zabriel took a deep breath in preparation to continue.

  “The need to carefully consider and make a wise decision about my future is not the only reason I am choosing to stay in Tairmor. My mother was assassinated here in the Warckum Territory, and while the murderer was Fae, he could not have acted alone. Upon return to the Faerie Realm, the Lord of the Law will investigate possible additional Fae involvement in the treacherous plot against the Queen. I will work with Lieutenant Governor Luka Ivanova for the same purpose. Together, our efforts will bring any others involved in planning and executing Queen Ubiqua’s murder, be they Fae or human, to justice.”

  At this, cheers erupted, for solving the Queen’s murder was something everyone could agree upon. I glanced at Davic, feeling vindicated about my earlier comment in the garden, but he didn’t notice. He was enthusiastically applauding along with the others. So much for letting things be simple.

  “Finally, my cousin, Princess Anya, will remain here with me. Though she cannot return to her home in Chrior, you are all aware she was chosen to be the Queen’s successor should I not come back. That future may no longer be hers, but the confidence the Queen showed in her makes it crucial that I seek her advice. She will, therefore, be given the special title of Emissary to the Governor with the goal of improving not only Fae–human relationships but living conditions for Fae on this side of the Bloody Road.”

  This announcement came as a surprise to me, and my cousin sought me out. I smiled and nodded my head in acknowledgment, admiring his ingenuity. I had obviously expected to work with him while he remained in Tairmor, but he had elevated my status among the Fae. While only I knew there was a third, much more ominous motivation for Zabriel to stay in the Territory, he was subtly attempting to keep the balance of power from shifting to Illumina, and for that I was grateful.

  “Finally, I want to thank everyone for their patience and assistance during this time of turmoil and transition. I ask that, for the good of our people, you stand united behind the decisions I have made here today. In accordance with our customs, the time of mourning for our beloved ruler will extend for one full season of the solstice. The official ceremony to crown the next Fae ruler will, therefore, fall at the time of the Autumnal Solstice.”

  With that, Zabriel departed, followed by my father, leaving everyone else to discuss and debate the information that had been conveyed. I left the reception room, not to follow Zabriel, but to head into the gardens. I needed to clear my head, to embrace the ache in my heart, to quiet my nerves, and to feel once more a connection to Nature. I sank to the ground and dug my hands into the moist earth relishing the breeze and the hot sun on my cheeks. This was the only place in Tairmor where I could feel the elements of water, earth, air, and fire. Perhaps because her passage from this world was still so fresh, I also thought I could feel Queen Ubiqua’s presence within my heart.

  * * *

  The remembrance ceremony began at midnight, and turned into a vigil lasting until sunrise. The Queen’s body was laid atop an outdoor viewing stand, cushioned by rushes, her head of silver hair resting upon a blue velvet pillow. A cloak covered her torso, concealing her wound and the blood that stained her celebration gown. Pillared candles formed a half circle around her, creating an opening through which Fae and human alike could approach and pay their respects.

  My father, as the Lord of the Law, had removed the Queen’s royal ring, and would safeguard it until it was time to pass it down to the next Fae ruler. He ushered people toward Zabriel, who stood stoically at his mother’s head, accepting words of sympathy. Members of the Fae contingency made their way forward one by one to speak to him and leave elemental gifts upon the wood of the stand: sparkling droplets of dew from Water Fae, leaves and flowers from Earth Fae, glowing embers like rubies from Fire Fae, and crystals filled with wisps of cloud from Air Fae. Wolfram and Luka Ivanova came behind the Fae mourners to offer their respects, sprinkling flower petals upon her cloak, while the Territory’s other government officials laid flowers at her side.

  Once all had paid homage to the Queen, Zabriel moved to sit in one of several high-backed wooden chairs, my father, Lisian, and the Fae Ambassadors joining him. The rest of our people mingled freely, exchanging remembrances, until eventually the singing began—lamentations and eulogies along with tributes to honor the Queen’s reign. The humans, no doubt feeling out of place, quietly departed. To my great surprise, the Governor thereupon permitted the serving of Sale. Morgan, the Keeper of the Forest, distributed his supply, fueling a desire among my people to dance, and encouraging them to build and light a bonfire. In the end, Tenax, the Keeper of Lore and History, told stories of Queen Ubiqua’s greatest achievements, lauding her as a visionary for taking steps to create peace with the humans.

  Since I could not consume Sale, I gulped wine in the company of Ione and Davic, thankful for the relief it could provide. In addition to my physical tribulations, a staggering melancholy had fallen upon me. The celebrations of my people, though typically more lighthearted, were always filled with song, dance and storytelling, and I would soon be cut off from such rituals forever. Human celebrations seemed blasé by comparison, lacking in spirit and spontaneity. I sighed and glanced at my cousin. Had he missed these things after he’d fled the Realm of the Fae? Or had he truly never looked back?

  Noticing my gaze, Zabriel gave me a nod, and I decided to join him—sitting with the Lord of the Law, the Captain of the Blades, and the Fae Ambassadors was likely its own ordeal.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, my father vacating his chair in deference to me upon my approach.

  “I’ve been worse. Also been better.”

  I laughed. “You could have given me a worse answer. Also a better one.”

  My gentle teasing drew a smile. “I’m just confused, Anya, about everything.” He motioned toward the stand upon which his mother’s body rested. “I’ve heard things tonight that are new to me—things I might have known about her if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in myself.”

  He gave a hard tug on his hair, and I winced on his behalf. His gaze went to the mourners, and I waited, thinking there was more he wanted to say. At last, his dark eyes returned to my face, his sorrow and remorse plain to see.

  “I may have judged her too harshly. And now it’s too late.”

  I laid a hand upon his forearm where it rested atop his chair, searching for the right words, for regret was something with which I had plenty of experience.


  “We all live in the moment, Zabriel, not knowing the future. Don’t rethink your decisions because your mother’s life was cut short. They were right at the time.” My voice gained fervor as I spoke, for I was partly preaching to myself. “Blame fate, and not yourself, that you weren’t given the chance to reconcile with her. But use your feelings to move forward, knowing she loved you.”

  He clenched his jaw, then nodded. “When did you become so wise?”

  “I’m not wise. But I have lived with confusion and regret, more than you know.”

  “You’ll have to tell me sometime.”

  I forced a smile, my mind going to the revelations I needed to make about Illumina. “I’m sure I will—when the time is right.”

  He glanced quizzically at me, but before he could raise a single question, Davic and Ione came to drag us both near the bonfire to join in the storytelling. After a few minutes, his mood seemed to lighten, lifting mine in turn. Zabriel needed to be strong, bold, and decisive if he and I were to tackle the challenges that lay ahead.

  When the sun finally stole above the horizon, Lisian, the Captain of the Blades, and three members of the Queen’s guard stepped forward to wrap her body in her burial shroud. It was then bound with ropes, reminding me of a chrysalis, only, sadly, no beautiful butterfly would emerge. At last, she was placed in a sling, and the Blades tied the ropes attached to each corner of the heavy fabric around their waists, then slowly lifted off the ground. They would fly the Queen’s body back to Chrior, where a Fae parting ceremony would be conducted. Her body would be burned and her ashes offered to the four winds, returning her to the air, her element. After the Blades had departed with Ubiqua’s body, my father and the rest of the Fae delegation packed up the coaches and wagons that would carry them and their possessions back to the Faerie Realm. They would make the journey by land, a more tedious process, but one could not expect to fly long distances burdened with extra weight.