In stark contrast to his father, Julias was a warrior to the bone, and sometimes to a fault. He regularly fought with the lords to the north in the Kingdom of the Lakelands. His firstborn son and heir, Julias, died in one such skirmish at the age of seventeen. His death plunged his father into deep mourning, and he died quietly, after refusing skinhealer treatment for illness.
TIBERIAS THE GREAT
AUGUST 1, 60–NOVEMBER 10, 105 NE
The great-grandson of Caesar Calore is considered his true successor, and remains the longest-reigning monarch of the Calore dynasty. Over the course of his forty-five-year reign, Tiberias I finished the Hall of the Sun, bolstered relations with the Lakelands to the north, and extended Nortan borders to include the entirety of the Rift. Pieces of the Samos lands still resisted Calore rule, and Tiberias himself led an army himself into the Rift hills. The remaining Samos rebels were brought to heel, and, against the urging of his council, Tiberias did not eradicate the Samos dynasty, instead granting them clemency in exchange for their loyalty and lands. The governance of the Rift was given to House Laris, though House Samos remained one of the strongest families in the kingdom. King Tiberias also pioneered the use of Red tech towns, establishing several throughout Norta. The Silver kingdom would reap the benefits of his rule for many centuries, growing in economic and technological might. After many years without producing an heir, Tiberias I divorced his Nortan wife to marry a Lakelander princess, who bore him three children. He died peacefully in his sleep.
TIBERIAS II
AUGUST 1, 105–MAY 30, 107 NE
Tiberias II succeeded his father as an older man and ruled for less than two years. He died suddenly of an ailment cited only as “bad nerves.” Even over such a brief period of time, it became clear that he was unfit for the throne and would most likely have been easily manipulated by his council and lords had he lived.
CAESAR II
MAY 30, 107–DECEMBER 9, 118 NE
Because King Caesar was not yet of age when he came to the throne, his grandmother, the Lakelander princess Iranne, and his mother, Irina Calore, ruled as his regents. His uncle, Prince Fyrion Calore, objected to a foreign ruler and claimed that he was better suited to the throne. Fyrion and his wife, backed by her Titanos family, led a civil war against Caesar II. They were eventually put down by the forces of the Queen Regent and Princess Caesera. Caesera, the daughter of Tiberias the Great, had married into House Samos, and their support was integral to keeping Caesar II in power. Prince Fyrion was executed for his attempt to usurp the throne, and his infant son, Prince Crest Calore, was exiled from Norta. He fathered a cadet branch of House Calore in the west, but records of such a dynasty have been lost or destroyed. Fyrion’s line, if still in existence, would be the only other branch of the Calore tree left.
Caesar II himself was a sickly boy, constantly watched by Skonos guards, and he required blood healing regularly. He is described as having “rotted away,” dying at age twenty-five. He had no children, and it is rumored that his illness was due to his parents, Tiberias II and Queen Irina, being first cousins.
JULIAS II
DECEMBER 9, 118–MARCH 22, 140 NE
Because Caesar II had no children, the crown passed to his younger brother. Julias II married Serena Skonos, one of his brother’s constant guardians, and showed none of his brother’s genetic illnesses. For this reason, it is believed by some historians that his father was not Tiberias II and that his mother, Queen Irina, had had an affair with someone at the Nortan court. Julias II was largely unbothered by such whisperings, as his mother was a Calore by birth herself, and he was still a direct descendant of Caesar I. Most importantly, Julias II was a burner like all the Calore kings before him. If his mother had been unfaithful, it would have been extremely rare for him to have inherited her ability and not his true father’s. His reign was otherwise quiet, as the kingdoms of Norta, Piedmont, and the Lakelands were at peace. During his thirty-two-year rule, Julias II undertook a campaign of arena building, expanding the practice of First Friday throughout the kingdom. He wed two of his daughters to Piedmont princes, deepening the bonds between the two kingdoms.
JULIAS III
MARCH 22, 140–DECEMBER 28, 151 NE
Despite his father’s urging, Julias III bypassed the rite of Queenstrial for a love match, and married Helena of House Merandus. Historians openly wonder if the young prince was swayed by her ability rather than a romance. After Julias III was coronated, his son and heir embarked on a tour of Norta. While visiting the border at Maiden Falls, the convoy was set upon by Red bandits, and Prince Julias was killed. In retaliation, Julias III decreed that the Red towns around the border would be razed and cleared to make way for a fortress city. He commanded the Reds to build Corvium and then conscripted most of them into the Nortan military. The rest were deported to tech cities throughout the kingdom to bolster worker population. No Calore ever named a child Julias again, as it was considered a bad-luck name.
MARCAS
DECEMBER 28, 151–DECEMBER 12, 159 NE
Like his father, King Marcas forwent the rite of Queenstrial, albeit for a stronger alliance with Piedmont. He married Elisabeta, a princess of the Tidewater. Though he only reigned for eight years, his rule was considered a fruitful age in Norta, due mostly to his Merandus mother and his wife. The king was largely ineffectual and unintelligent, delegating his duties to the two queens, who undertook a campaign to improve the Nortan infrastructure and economy. Queen Elisabeta, originally of Piedmont, pioneered the Greenway, a road system connecting Norta and her native country. Dowager Queen Helena turned her attentions toward expanding the Nortan electrical grid from border to border, reaching even remote Red communities. When King Marcas died in a drunken fall, the two queens continued their work in conjunction with his heir and only child, Aerion.
AERION
DECEMBER 12, 159–FEBRUARY 2, 188 NE
King Aerion shared his mother’s passion for architecture, and together they built the now-iconic Bridge of Archeon. During this period, Nortan spies led by House Merandus and House Iral aided Prairie warlords in their border war with the Lakelands. Backed with money from the Nortan treasury and the king himself, Prairie armies won valuable farmland in the Minnowan region and pushed the Lakelander border back across the Great River. King Aerion used this tactic to weaken Norta’s closest neighbor, knowing that their two kingdoms would inevitably clash in the future. Influenced by his mother and grandmother, King Aerion decreed that his line of succession would depend on ability, not gender. Therefore his firstborn child, a daughter named Andura, was heir to the throne, followed by her younger brother.
ANDURA
FEBRUARY 2, 188–SEPTEMBER 27, 199 NE
As the first ruling queen of Norta, Andura faced considerable opposition from the nobility and her government. She married through the first Princestrial, wedding a son of House Blonos, who became her prince consort. Queen Andura was a famed warrior and diplomat, able to hide Nortan involvement in the Prairie wars with the Lakelands. She maintained a shaky peace with the north while secretly building up her nation’s armies, expanding Red conscription to include females as well as opening the military to any Silver woman who wished to enlist. Andura’s only child did not inherit her burner abilities, and to maintain peace in the kingdom, she upheld her father’s decree of succession. Her brother remained her heir until his death during a Red uprising in Harbor Bay. Similar uprisings were gaining strength in Norta, the Lakelands, and Piedmont, where Silver overlords struggled to maintain control of a larger Red population. Andura’s son, Ambrosin, left Norta following his mother’s death to seek his fortune in the west. He is a highly skilled blood healer, nearly immortal because of his ability, and still lives as King Triarch in Tiraxes. He is over one hundred years old.
TIBERIAS III
SEPTEMBER 27, 199–MARCH 30, 222 NE
As the firstborn son of Queen Andura’s brother, Tiberias became heir to the throne after his father’s death. He ascended du
ring a chaotic time of Red rebellion and worsening relations with the Lakelands. One of his first acts as king was to call a summit with the monarchy of the Lakelands, but negotiations broke down quickly, and the Lakelander War was declared. It would last more than a century and claim millions of lives, both Red and Silver. It has been suggested that the war was indeed a war of anger, but of necessity as well, serving to curtail Red populations in both Norta and the Lakelands.
LEONORA
MARCH 30, 222–JANUARY 3, 237 NE
Like her grandmother, Leonora was the firstborn child of a Calore monarch, and so inherited the throne over her younger brother. She refused the rite of Princestrial and never married, but Mariane Nolle was her consort until death, and given the rank of princess. Leonora was the first ruling Calore to leave Norta during her reign, embarking on a tour of Piedmont to visit cousins and various dignitaries. She also visited Corvium many times to survey the Choke, a rapidly expanding wasteland serving as the war border between the Lakelander and Nortan trenches. By her decree, her nieces and nephews were partially raised at the war front to learn military matters firsthand.
TIBERIAS IV
JANUARY 3, 237–SEPTEMBER 2, 270 NE
Continuing the military tradition set by his ancestors, Tiberias IV was a general in the Nortan armies before succeeding his older sister. He oversaw more than thirty years of war as king, and toward the end of his reign began a more clandestine campaign against the Lakelands. He utilized a vast spy network, headed by House Iral, to infiltrate Lakelander strongholds, track troop moments, sabotage supply chains, and assassinate key figures within their government and military. The king’s second son, Aerik, died in retaliation for one such assassination. While reviewing troops on the Lakelander border, Aerik was ambushed and killed by Lakelanders disguised as Reds. After his son’s death, Tiberias IV spent most of his time at the front, leaving his heir to rule from the capital in his place and learn statecraft firsthand.
TIBERIAS V
SEPTEMBER 2, 270–AUGUST 1, 296 NE
After observing the rite of Queenstrial, Tiberias married Anabel of House Lerolan, the traditional governors of Delphie. Tiberias V also kept a male consort, Robert Iral, whom he crowned as a prince. Queen Anabel and Prince Robert were both great patrons of the arts during their king’s reign. Though less inclined to the military than his father, Tiberias V partially raised his son at the front to prepare him to lead a nation at war. Despite conflict with the Lakelands, his reign was considered peaceful and prosperous for the Silvers of Norta. Tiberias V died of a cancerous wasting disease, despite the best efforts of his personal skin healers.
TIBERIAS VI
AUGUST 1, 296 NE–PRESENT
Before he ascended the throne, Tiberias VI refused the rite of Queenstrial and shocked the court when he married Coriane Jacos, a lady of a relatively low and poor Silver house.
QUEEN SONG
As usual, Julian gave her a book.
Just like the year before, and the year before, and every holiday or occasion he could find in between his sister’s birthdays. She had shelves of his so-called gifts. Some given in truth, and some to simply clear space in the library he called a bedroom, where books were stacked so high and so precariously that even the cats had trouble navigating the labyrinthine piles. The subjects varied, from adventure tales of Prairie raiders to stuffy poetry collections about the insipid Royal Court they both strived to avoid. Better for kindling, Coriane would say every time he left her another dull volume. Once, for her twelfth birthday, Julian gave her an ancient text written in a language she could not read. And one she assumed he only pretended to understand.
Despite her dislike for the majority of his stories, she kept her own growing collection on neat shelves, strictly alphabetized, their spines facing forward to display titles on leather bindings. Most would go untouched, unopened, unread, a tragedy even Julian could not find the words to bemoan. There is nothing so terrible as a story untold. But Coriane kept them all the same, well dusted, polished, their gold-stamped letters gleaming in the hazy light of summer or winter’s gray castings. From Julian was scrawled in each one, and those words she treasured above almost all. Only his true gifts were loved more: the manuals and guides sheathed in plastic, tucked between the pages of a genealogy or encyclopedia. A few held court at her bedside, snug beneath her mattress, to be pulled out at night when she could devour technical schematics and machine studies. How to build, break down, and maintain transport engines, airjets, telegraphy equipment, even lightbulbs and kitchen stoves.
Her father did not approve, as was the usual way. A Silver daughter of a noble High House should not have fingers stained in motor oil, nails chipped by “borrowed” tools, or bloodshot eyes from too many nights spent straining over unsuitable literature. But Harrus Jacos forgot his misgivings every time the video screen in the estate parlor shorted out, hissing sparks and blurred transmissions. Fix it, Cori, fix it. She did as he commanded, hoping each time would be the one to convince him. Only to have her tinkerings sneered at a few days later, and all her good work forgotten.
She was glad he was gone, away in the capital aiding their uncle, the lord of House Jacos. This way she could spend her birthday with the people she loved. Namely, her brother, Julian, and Sara Skonos, who had come specifically for the occasion. Growing prettier by the day, Coriane thought, noting her dearest friend. It had been months since their last meeting, when Sara turned fifteen and moved permanently to the Royal Court. Not so long really, but already the girl seemed different, sharper. Her cheekbones cut cruelly beneath skin somehow paler than before, as if drained. And her gray eyes, once bright stars, seemed dark, full of shadows. But her smile came easily, as it always did around the Jacos children. Around Julian, truly, Coriane knew. And her brother was just the same, grinning broadly, keeping a distance no uninterested boy would think to keep. He was surgically aware of his movements, and Coriane was surgically aware of her brother. At seventeen, he was not too young for proposals, and she suspected there would be one in the coming months.
Julian had not bothered to wrap her gift. It was already beautiful on its own. Leatherbound, striped in the dusty yellow-golds of House Jacos, with the Burning Crown of Norta embossed into the cover. There was no title on the face or spine, and Coriane could tell there was no hidden guidebook in its pages. She scowled a little.
“Open it, Cori,” Julian said, stopping her before she could toss the book onto the meager pile of other presents. All of them veiled insults: gloves to hide “common” hands, impractical dresses for a court she refused to visit, and an already opened box of sweets her father didn’t want her to eat. They would be gone by dinnertime.
Coriane did as instructed and opened the book to find it empty. Its cream pages were blank. She wrinkled her nose, not bothering to put on the show of a grateful sister. Julian required no such lies, and would see through them anyway. What’s more, there was no one here to scold her for such behavior. Mother is dead, Father gone, and Cousin Jessamine is blessfully still asleep. Only Julian, Coriane, and Sara sat alone in the garden parlor, three beads rattling around the dusty jar of the Jacos estate. It was a yawning room that matched the ever-present, hollow ache in Coriane’s chest. Arched windows overlooked a tangled grove of once-orderly roses that had not seen the hands of a greenwarden in a decade. The floor needed a good sweeping and the gold draperies were gray with dust, and most likely spiderwebs as well. Even the painting over the soot-stained marble fireplace was missing its gilt frame, sold off long ago. The man who stared out from the naked canvas was Coriane and Julian’s own grandfather, Janus Jacos, who would certainly despair of his family’s state. Poor nobles, trading on an old name and traditions, making do with little and less every year.
Julian laughed, making the usual sound. Fond exasperation, Coriane knew. It was the best way to describe his attitude toward his younger sister. Two years his junior, and always quick to remind her of his superior age and intellect. Gently, of course. As if
that made any difference.
“It’s for you to write in,” he pressed on, sliding long, thin fingers over the pages. “Your thoughts, what you do with your days.”
“I know what a diary is,” she replied, snapping the book shut. He didn’t mind, not bothering to be offended. Julian knew her better than anyone. Even when I get the words wrong. “And my days don’t warrant much of a record.”
“Nonsense, you’re quite interesting when you try.”
Coriane grinned. “Julian, your jokes are improving. Have you finally found a book to teach you humor?” Her eyes flickered to Sara. “Or someone?”
While Julian flushed, his cheeks bluing with silverblood, Sara took it in stride. “I’m a healer, not a miracle worker,” she said, her voice a melody.
Their joined laughter echoed, filling the emptiness of the estate house for one kind moment. In the corner, the old clock chimed, tolling the hour of Coriane’s doom. Namely, Cousin Jessamine, who would arrive at any moment.
Julian was quick to stand, stretching a lanky form transitioning into manhood. He still had growing to do, both up and out. Coriane, on the other hand, had been the same height for years and showed no sign of changing. She was ordinary in everything, from almost colorless blue eyes to limp chestnut hair that stubbornly refused to grow much farther than her shoulders.
“You didn’t want these, did you?” he said as he reached across his sister. He snatched a few sugar-glassed candies from the box, earning a swat in reply. Etiquette be damned. Those are mine. “Careful,” he warned, “I’ll tell Jessamine.”
“No need,” came their elderly cousin’s reedy whistle of a voice, echoing from the columned entrance to the parlor. With a hiss of annoyance, Coriane shut her eyes, trying to will Jessamine Jacos out of existence. No use in that, of course. I’m not a whisper. Just a singer. And though she could have tried to use her meager abilities on Jessamine, it would only end poorly. Old as Jessamine was, her voice and ability were still whip-sharp, far quicker than her own. I’ll end up scrubbing floors with a smile if I try her.
Broken Throne Page 2
