“Certainly, Archigos,” ci’Noel answered, “as soon as you’ve seen the Kraljica. She has asked that you be present at the meeting also.”
“It’s been a long ride,” the Archigos answered, “and as you can see, I’m not as young as others here…”
“The Kraljica expects your presence first, ” ci’Noel interrupted, and that brought up the Archigos’ head to glare at the man. “I’m certain the Hirzg understands the importance of state precedents, and has explained them to you.”
He’s taken lessons from Matarh… Jan almost smiled at the clever impertinence of the man. “The Archigos will undoubtedly want to hear the latest regarding Nico Morel,” Jan agreed, and Karrol’s glare now turned to him. “So he can make the best decision regarding Morel’s fate and that of his followers.”
“Indeed,” ci’Noel said, nodding vigorously before the Archigos could object. “There is news there that I’m sure she’s waiting to tell you.” He bowed again. “If you’ll follow me, Hirzg Jan. The citizenry, as you can see, are waiting to give you their own welcome.”
With that, one of the chevarittai led a horse forward and ci’Noel pulled himself onto the saddle. He nodded his head to Jan and tugged at the reins, turning his horse to continue westward.
The populace cheered as they proceeded under the arch of the gate and into Nessantico.
Allesandra ca’Vorl
She was more nervous than she’d imagined she would be. The hall of the Sun Throne had been set for the reception, and as she waited in the small room behind the throne’s dais with three palais e-teni and two of the hall servants, she could hear the servants bustling about making certain that everything was set. She’d been told that Hirzg Jan and the others were on the palais grounds, that Talbot and the Council of Ca’ were escorting them to the hall, and she went to the nearly transparent scrim to peer into the hall. There was a loud knock on the far door, and the palais door wards hurried to open it. Talbot entered, bowing and indicating that the Hirzg should enter.
For the first time in fifteen years, she saw her son.
He’d changed; he hadn’t changed. She certainly knew him immediately. The image of him as a young man burned in her mind was still there in this adult in the prime of his life. His hair had darkened and receded a bit, and there was a trace of gray at his temples that surprised her. She touched her own hair, knowing that the white was rapidly overpowering the color in her long, bound tresses. But his features: those were the eyes she remembered, with a hawk’s gaze that could send an arrow flying unerringly to the heart of a stag. The set of his mouth, the strong line of his jaw, his confident stride; they were still as she remembered.
She wanted to part the curtain and run to him, yet she could not. This was to be a dance as intricate and tightly choreographed as any ce’Miella minuet. This was not the time for emotions to rule, but for diplomacy. Even with the challenge of the Tehuantin pressing against their doorstep, the niceties of society and position must be followed. So Allesandra waited as Jan and the Firenzcian contingent were escorted up to the open space before the throne’s dais, until the servants had hurried forward with trays of refreshments. Her councillors (with Varina joining them and holding Nico’s daughter) were standing in their own huddle; the Firenzcian chevarittai, like most warriors fresh from a long march, took the offered food and drink eagerly, Starkkapitan ca’Damont with them. Archigos Karrol stood in front of the steps of the dais and waved away the servants (to the evident consternation of the teni clustered around him); he seemed to be contemplating whether his position as Archigos would permit him to ascend the steps up to the dais, his face-when he lifted it from staring at the floor-was a mask of irritation. Jan took water but waved away the food, standing and speaking softly to Talbot in front of ci’Recroix’s massive painting of a peasant family. Jan was staring over Talbot’s shoulder at the stunningly lifelike figures on the canvas.
Erik was standing alone. Isolated. Ignored by both Firenzcians and Nessanticans. Somehow, Allesandra found that fitting.
Talbot glanced over toward the screen and nodded. He bowed briefly to Jan, then brushed past Archigos Karrol to ascend the dais and stand to one side of the Sun Throne. Conversation in the room failed as everyone looked at him. Faintly, Allesandra heard one of the e-teni with her start to chant and gesture. “Kraljica Allesandra ca’Vorl of the Holdings,” Talbot intoned, and the e-teni’s spell made his words boom and thunder in the hall, as if a Moitidi had spoken them. The other two e-teni were chanting now, and as the hall servants parted the curtain, they cast their own spells, surrounding Allesandra in a bath of faint golden light as she stepped out, as if she’d been caught in a moving shaft of noon sunlight. Those in the room bowed to her as one, the Archigos and teni instead favoring her with the sign of Cenzi. Talbot took to one knee as she approached.
Her heart was beating hard, her breath was too fast. Jan alone had not bowed his head. Instead, he stared at her, as she did toward him. Their gazes locked, and she hoped that he saw the affection there.
She took three steps forward, until she stood alongside the Sun Throne, but she didn’t sit, as she would have for a normal reception. Instead, she paused there, and she extended her hands toward Jan. “Hirzg,” she said. “Jan… Please…”
At the invitation, he bounded up the steps of the dais- more like a young man than a ruler, more like the child she remembered. He took her proffered hands. “Matarh,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”
She’d played out this moment a hundred times in her mind, anticipating a thousand different reactions. She’d imagined him angry or sullen or terribly proper and aloof. She’d even dared to imagine a tearful reunion. This… This tugged her lips into a wide, helpless smile, and she pressed her fingers against his.
“It’s good to see you, Jan,” she said, softly enough that only he could hear her. “I mean that, my son. I should never have waited this long, and you have my sincere apology for that.”
He smiled, but there was a caution there, and a wariness in his eyes. She saw him glance at the Sun Throne. “Would it light up if I sat there?” he asked her.
“It will,” she answered. “Soon enough.” And if you have the light-teni prepare beforehand. He would learn that soon enough, too; though the Sun Throne still shone when the Kraljica or Kraljiki sat on it, that light had been but a dim spark since Kraljica Marguerite’s time, visible only in twilight darkness. It now required the aid of light-teni to be noticeable in the day. She’d also learned that the trigger for the light wasn’t herself, but the signet ring of the Kralji-the light that the famous Archigos Siwel ca’Elad had enchanted within the crystalline depths would arise whenever anyone wearing the ring sat on the throne.
He had dropped her hands, though he was still smiling-as were all of those watching the historic encounter. He was too like her; he knew the importance of this moment, knew that it would set the tone for the future. “Matarh,” he said, loudly enough that all could hear him, “the army of Firenzcia has come again to help the Holdings and the Sun Throne.”
Applause and cheers broke at that statement, the sound washing over them as they stood on the dais. They both turned as they accepted the ovation. Allesandra felt a lightness she had not felt in a long time. She saw Erik among the audience, still isolated, near the Holdings councillors and chevarittai but not with them, and well away from the Firenzcians. He applauded as loudly as the others, but his grin was smug and self-satisfied. She hated it.
She took Jan’s hand in hers, lifting them both in the air. “To a new union,” she said loudly. “Of family, and of countries.”