“Dy'Anne, did you speak to my daughter?”

“Yes, dam.”

“And the coronation will take place?”

“The Empress said she would love to see you first. I told her you are as fair as ever.”

“Good. Let me see how she has grown.” Xanarona looked out towards the balcony. “I like the look outside. It isn't usually this bright. Dwarf star? They call Herod a dwarf star? Weak light and all.”

“I don't know, dam.”

“Are you not a Prophet?”

“With all due respect, dam, Herod is the business of Pilots. Prophets are more concerned with the abyss.”

“They say beyond our uppermost clouds is an abundance of light. Light that could blind us. I don't believe it. Do you believe it, Dy'Anne?”

“Those are tales woven to stray us. The Iron Capital has sent three travel pods and the only thing that has returned is an overfried charger.”

“An overfried charger must mean too much energy? Too much light?”

Dy'Anne scoffed. “I would avoid prevarication, dam.”

“For a Prophet you doubt a lot.” She ate a nibble of batter. “Tell my daughter to come see me. I have many things to tell her.”

***

“That fit is terrible, too much material, long train, the seams are too loose at the sides,” Xanarona said as the Empress ambled in. “And why are you veiling your hair?”

The Empress sat on a stool, fingers interlocked and face stern.

“And has anyone ever told you you put on too much powder? I like the jewellery though, perfect in every way.” She looked at her fingers. “Didn't know you liked rings.”

Xanfeil did nothing but eye her daughter. She said, finally, “Don't pretend everything's fine.”

Xanarona came closer with a rag to bat the Empress’ face but Xanfeil held up an arm. “Don't, Xana.”

“What is it? Is this because of last time? We had a disagreement, Mother. Families have disagreements all the time. Nothing new.” Xanarona inched away and lay nonchalantly on her bed.

“You wanted to hurt yourself. Don't speak like it's nothing.”

“Don't dwell on the past, Mother. Do you want to look inside? Come on.”

Xanarona saw the Empress fiddle with her fingers but eventually resist the urge. “You had me worried.”

“It was a Prophet thing. The Deep. The stress of the coronation.” Xanarona said, nonchalant.

“There’ll be no coronation for another week until I am sure you are fine.”

Xanarona approached the Empress. “You've already invited all the Houses. You won't uninvite them, now? I told Xetyr that the coronation is tomorrow, if you tell him now that it isn't until next week. He won't be around for it. And I want at least one of my brothers around.” Xanarona hugged her still sitting mother from behind. “I had Dy'Anne send a letter to Illyana. Ilyana is travelling from the Iron Belt to the Drafts just for me. You'll disappoint a host of people if you cancel it now.” Xanarona put her head beside Xanfeil's. “Hmm?”

“I have always been proud of you, Xana. I have always been proud of you. Never compare yourself to others, past or present.”

Xanarona came round to hug her, “I won't.”

The Empress grinned weakly, “Then get ready, dear. You will be Empress-designate tomorrow and there is a celebration planned for the whole dawn.”

Xanarona beamed.

“And you don't like my veil? You gave me the veil.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, of course. On my sixtieth stardom. You don't remember?” Xanfeil laughed.

“I do.” Xanarona wore a curious face. “Looking again, I think it's really beautiful.” They both laughed.

“I take it the Iron Emperor will not come for the coronation?”

“He's too incapacitated to come.”

“He won't send any delegates?”

“No.” The Empress shrugged. “They've been quiet since the attack. Probably think it's one of us from the Silver Belt.”

“This could escalate to war.” Xanarona said, suddenly serious.

“The Belts are united now. We have no reason to attack them and they know it. If the Panner who challenged the Iron Capital is in my Belt, we'll join forces to bring them to justice.”

“It doesn't harm to be prepared.”

“You are preemptive like your grandmother.”

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“You just said I shouldn't compare myself to anyone.”

“No, it's a good thing. And I can't help noticing it.”

“Will all the seven Houses be there for the coronation?”

“Surely.”

It's good none of them have gone rogue. I would have had them smitten. “You said a Panner attacked the Iron Emperor? Dy’Anne swore it was most likely a President.”

“They said whoever attacked made constructs like a Panner. If it truly was a President, then we have much on our hands. When did you start tying your hair up?”

“Is it up?”

“It is.” The Empress laughed. The pair reminisced of many things till dawn elapsed.

That night travel pods and baskets had come from all over to the Drafts. Xanarona had refused any visitors. She wanted them to see when she was appareled and climbing the Pyramid and to take her throne.

Metal terrace seatings were already propped around the Pyramid. They would be flown by Pilots when the time came. The Pyramid was draped on all sides with black ans silver trim rugs and when it was time, two thrones—one larger than the other—would be levered up from the interior of the Pyramid. Her mother would be waiting to receive her. At the landing of the mid-section, she would be crowned as Empress-designate of all the Silver Belt.

A new dawn arrived and with it the coronation. Xaranora went while it was still very dark to the Pyramid so that she would put on her regalia. Her handmaiden, Hedwig, escorted her. Hedwig first clothed her with a black knee-length robe and after that slipped Xanarona's feet onto ankle-high hoses. On top of that was a very thin silver linen, thinner even than foil and following that was a black dress, frilled at the wrists. Her high sandals were next and they had to be tied up to her thighs to fit well. The next piece wasn't worn over. Xanarona had to put her hands through them so that Hedwig would clip them from behind. The material of it was thick and it constricted Xanarona at the neck.

Her jewels followed. First, a chain to hang loosely around her waist and then a silver-mesh skirt over what she already wore. Her ears were affixed with a model made just for them and blunt teeth were used to keep them secure at the lobe. Her eyebrows were covered with iron plates and a strip of the most glittery silver was pierced under her lip. Hedwig rubbed transparent pastes beneath each eye and silver beads were interlocked with her hair. Her face was dusted with fine power and eyelids were painted black. An iron cowl was heaved onto her collar and rings rounded every finger. Finally, her regal cape came, train so long it had to be carried by no fewer than twelve of her maids. It was beautified with silver trims and a nose ring was clutched to a part of it.

When Dy'Anne came to see her, she was overwhelmed by her grace.

“You are ever splendid, dam.” She bowed.

“You flatter me, Dy'Anne.”

“And you honor me, dam.”

“What do you know about the State Eternal?”

“Now dam?”

“All of you leave. Not you, Hedwig.” When they had left, she asked, “Should I trust you, Hedwig?”

“With everything, dam,” Hedwig said.

“Tell me about the State Eternal, Dy'Anne.”

“It's mostly rumours, dam. Some high class dramatics and something about restoring Krakas. I have heard some Houses here are involved but in all my lived years, it's been only that. Rumours. Some say the State Eternal was behind the assassination at the Iron Capital.”

“Which of the Presidents was killed?”

“An Adanbage. Tyetus.”

“Adanbage. I have dined with his mother. A proud family. They won't let it go,” Xanarona said. She queried Dy'Anne again, “Is every one of my friends dead?”

“I confirmed each death, dam. The last to die was Desdemona. She lived a good hundred and thirty six but it was all natural perseverance, dam. No Pyrancy.”

“Whatever will I do without you, Dy’Anne.”

“Whatever will I do without you, dam.” Dy'Anne bowed.

“One more thing, Dy'Anne. My granddaughter Xana has a friend, Illyana. Find and kill her. She should not suffer for my granddaughter's sake.”

“As you wish.”

The sound of horns filled her ears.

“Hedwig, where is my Pilgrim badge?”

“Right here, dam.” Hedwig brought the badge—a hand dripping with blood—on a tray. She strapped it to Xanarona's chest and the procession started from behind the Pyramid all the way to the front. The metal terrace seatings were afloat about seven of them with Pilot rings hoisted under at the edges. Light chargers had been placed everywhere more than enough to illuminate the Drafts. Below a multitude gathered and all dressed in white. Only the Empress and her family were in black.

There was another sound of the horn from the topmost section of the Pyramid. A throne slowly emerged from beneath the Pyramid. The Empress sat there, even more heavily attired. By the third call of the iron horn, Xanarona took the first step onto the steps and the orchestra played her best tune: Within and Without the Abyss.

She could not see beyond the clouds but travel baskets were flying up there, raining silver flakes.

Xanarona had not been crowned this way. The Silver Pyramid had not yet been built, but her daughter, the Empress, was, and now it was her granddaughter's turn. Well, hers and her granddaughter's, as far as she was concerned, they were now one. And this would be the only grand coronation. Xaranora made it like this in her own time to avoid faction wars among the Houses whenever the ruling Empress or Emperor should die. The heir would be crowned Empress-designate and was effectively Empress in all but name. Basically, the Empress-designate's role was as good as the Empress’ role. Anyone who challenged it challenged the Empress or Emperor whichever it was.

As ten thousand arias played, Xanarona climbed the silver steps. Xetyr stood some steps below the throne, and when his sister met him, he took her arm and guided her the rest of the way up. He too donned a cape, but not as long as Xanarona's. Xanarona kissed him on the forehead as he left to take back his position. She bowed before the Empress. Three slim slabs of silver had been propped on Xanfeil's regal wig. Rising, she took one of them, long as it was, and hooked it onto Xanarona's head.

“Rise now, ruler of the Drafts. Rise now, first of the Houses. Rise now, Empress-designate of all the Silver Belt. Rise!” The Empress proclaimed.

Xanarona took her throne beside the Empress and a thousand applauses shook the Drafts. For a time, she did not know whether it was her subjects clapping or the Shunned Deep roaring. Her neck jerked back and her eyes were shrouded with the Prophet's black. The Deep pulled her in. She fell for what felt like an eternity; she saw its ridges, jagged and jutting out like they were hands trapped behind walls. She heard a high-pitched scream. Then, she was pulled back out. She was not in the Drafts though. She was far away, somewhere else, aloft and weightless. It came like a whisper, “You can see the whole world.”

The abysses were numberless beneath her and from an especially gaping one, Presidential hordes escaped. A storm of them. Flapping wings and loud buzzes. They passed through her as she was intangible and flew into the distance. But they did not go away, they paraded around a shadow. The shadow of a man, she noted. He stood atop a stone separating two abysses and when his hordes came he welcomed them with open arms.

A rumble brought Xanarona back to herself. Her mother had noticed the episode.

“Are you alright, Xana?” She shouted amidst the chaos of celebration.

“I have never been better. Mother.” She stood and trotted to the edge of the landing. Each House made their procession with gifts for the Empress-designate. Xanarona doffed her cape and waved to her subjects. There were joyful tremors in response