Never had Xanarona slept so soundly and never had Herod shone so luminous. She breathed in a fresh dawn still in her nightly linens and she admired all of it. The Pyramid, so quaint and the Deep… Xanarona never had much to say of it. She took in the fullness of the Steelhouse, the grinding gears, music to her ears. Even the terminals with their food-churning delighted her. Her door clicked open and without moving from the balcony, she exclaimed, “Oh! Isn't it a beautiful dawn, Aqna? Brightness like this…” She sniffed. “Krakas has never been such a charm.”

She spun around with a devious grace. “Why do you glare, dear?” she asked.

Aqna gathered herself, dropped the tray of solids and turned to go.

“Don't be in a hurry, Aqna. Come dine with me.”

“I am not…hungry, dam,” Aqna said, mellowed.

Xanarona folded her arms and sighed. “My room is an eyesore. Why don't you clean it then?”

Aqna made haste. With a lowered head, she cleaned the room while Xanarona ate. She hummed too, as she munched down on the savoury delight. Aqna was still working when Xanarona finished her meal. Xanarona said, impatient, “Get me my hair stick, Aqna.”

Aqna observed an awkward pause before replying, “Xana…you… Xana threw it away.”

“Did I?”

“Not too long ago.”

“I see.”

“Bring my Blackstone then and clean me up.” She doffed her black linen. Aqna rubbed the stone against the curve of her back, went up to her neck and proceeded onward to her arm.

“You are too gentle, girl.”

Aqna scrubbed harder from her stomach to between her toes. When she was through, she bowed in deference.

“What are you doing?”

Aqna's quivering eyes met Xanarona's.

“Do I need to tell you to dress me?”

Aqna delayed in finding suitable wear. Xanarona noted that but offered nary a complaint. As she returned with heavy clothes, Xana said, “Find lighter ones.”

She went again and returned with sparser ones. Xanarona spread her arms waiting to be clothed. Aqna wrapped the robes around her and hooked it at the waist with a belt.

“Find me a pen.” Aqna brought one. Xanarona took it in her palm and faced away from Aqna, doing nothing particularly. “I did not tell you to leave.”

Aqna, already by the door, halted. “Forgive me, dam.”

“Come here,” Xana said, still not looking at her. “Why did you betray me?” There was a soul-eating silence. “I told you to send my mother a message on my behalf but you found Dy'Anne instead. Why?”

Aqna fell on her knees. “Forgive me, dam. I did it for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes, for you.”

“Come, then. I forgive you. You let me weep on your bosom. Now weep on mine. Come, Aqna.” As soon as Xanarona had Aqna in her embrace, the poor maid gurgled her blood. Her pale face became a thread of blackened veins. She slumped, vomiting even more blood until she died. Xanarona had stuck her pen in her throat and had dug it in till it reached the hollow of her mouth.

She dragged Aqna by her leg and threw her over the balcony. Then she knocked on her door and commanded the reserves, “Get me Dy'Anne. And send in a maid to clean my carpet.”

They did not delay when they saw her hands sloppy with blood.

***

“You are a sight to behold, Dy'Anne. You aged better than I had anticipated,” Xanarona said without looking from the mirror.

“My Empress.” Dy'Anne was filled with glee. She fell to one knee.

“Empress-designate, Dy'Anne. My daughter is Empress,” Xanarona corrected.

“Forgive me, dam.” She rose to her feet. “You came sooner than expected.”

“My granddaughter… I did not like how she was treated.”

“She was stubborn. She would have foiled the entire plan.”

“She was my granddaughter. My daughter's daughter.”

“She became a Prophet. I advised her to study as a Pilgrim, her mother advised her the same, everyone advised…”

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“I have been with her since she was born. Every decision of hers is mine.”

“Forgive me.”

“You almost foiled the plan. You lied too many times. My beating heart underground was no concern of hers. It was a bold move stabbing her.”

“To stop her from taking drastic measures, dam. I knew you would heal her.”

“You made her rebel. I did not want her rebellious.” Xanarona's words escaped her tongue with cunning, not anger. The kind of cunning a person donned when they knew what lay ahead. She styled her hair in different ways, each more disappointment than the last.

“Take down the body of that poor Pilgrim. I thought you would have taken initiative to do so after so many stars. It was a naive support plan anyway. It wouldn't have worked. Throw my heart into the Deep or use it for silver. I don't care; I have a new heart now.”

“As you wish. One more thing, dam.”

“What is it?”

“Your brother… or rather, grandson will be coming soon to see you.”

“Which of them?”

“The last boy. Xetyr.”

“Let him come.” Xanarona looked now at the Prophet. “And Dy’Anne, if anyone in my family is ever insulted or made to feel irrelevant again… I will start by killing you. Make no mistake, they always come first. Always.”

“Forgive me, dam.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Xana, open up, it's your brother, Xetyr.”

Xanarona opened the door with her broadest smile.

“Xet.” She hugged him.

“Oh Dy'Anne is here. How are you, Dy'Anne?” Xetyr asked.

“Brightdawn, sire.” Dy'Anne greeted as she left.

“Mother told me what happened to you and I was passing by so I told myself why not stop by?”

“Mother exaggerates a lot of things. I am fine, Xet.”

“She said you tried to harm yourself. Is that true?” He asked, disturbed.

She pulled him by the wrist and closed the door. “It was a Prophet thing. I am better now. You've grown lean.”

“Since when did you care about my weight?” Xetyr laughed.

“Since you left to work in Ares.”

“You are still about that?”

“You left me here. You and Xahal.”

“To work.”

“Well, when I am crowned Empress-designate, my first order would be to have you back in the Drafts.”

They laughed even more.

Xetyr's expression devolved to worry. “Are you okay, Xana?”

“Come let me show you something.” She brought him to her balcony, ignoring his question. “You see that over there?” She pointed into the distance.

“See what?”

“Just over there.”

“Are you okay? You aren't pointing to anything?” Xetyr chuckled.

“Exactly. Beyond those black clouds past the skyline and onwards from there.” The Iron Capital. “I want the Silver Belt to have it all.”

“Beyond the skyline is one of our host terminals, Maian. We already have it.” His voice faded as Xanarona dreamt of it all. “You've changed a lot, Xana. I brought you a gift from Ares. You will…”

At dusk, when the darkness of dawn bore down on Krakas two-fold and the lights of the Drafts were lit up, Xanarona sat on the rails, fiddling her toes and admiring the grandeur of the Silver Pyramid. She told herself, she could not hear the Shunned Deep grumble. She lied. She heard it, every of it low lows. In fact, holographic films clouded her eyes like she were a Prophet—Xana struggling to be let out. The whispers too did not evade her “You can see the world.” Xanarona, however, did not fear. She was otherwise proud that her granddaughter fought so.

“Dy'Anne asked me to see you, dam.”

It had become a habit for Xanarona not to look at whoever spoke to her. “Who are you?”

“I am to be your handmaiden, dam. I am to do what you say, and that only.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Hedwig, your handmaiden.”

“Get me my bow and instrument, Hedwig. I have not played in a very long time.”

“As you wish, dam.”

It pleased Xanarona to feel the bow and the intricacies of the instrument. She adjusted her instrument's peg, examined the strings and played. And when bow touched string, a melody like no other escaped into the bleary dusk. She bobbed her head to the tune of it, swaying left to right till the song was finished. Then, she played another and another and another as she remembered them. She even rhymed one of her songs with the growl of the Shunned Deep.

She set the instrument down when she was through, slipped off her cloth, and traipsed into her room where Nara waited.