Tyaniis stared down at the placid face of her sister, and her last remaining heart clenched. It was enough to blacken the edges of her vision, and she teetered for just a moment before regaining her balance.
“Mistress?” Dyni asked.
“You should be recovering, not risking the sutures tearing, Dyni,” Tyaniis responded, her gaze not leaving Ssyii’s face.
“The muscles need to move, or they’ll heal wrong.”
“Did Ussyri Noksi tell you this, or do you remember from your training?”
“Mistress…”
Tyaniis finally tore her gaze away, but she couldn’t meet the eyes of her bodyguard—and her only true friend. “Apologies—I’ve not been myself lately.”
The hssen felt a small, gentle hand on her shoulder. “None of us have, Mistress.”
“…Tyaniis.” She hated how small her voice sounded. When she didn’t get a response, she looked up—Dyni’s eyes were wet, and her jaw was tight. “Just… Tyaniis is fine.”
“You know I…” Dyni searched her face and blinked away the tears. “Alright, Tyaniis.”
“Thank you.”
For a long, painful moment, silence reigned in the small, hidden room near the top of the Grand Temple. Only the sounds of three sets of breath broke the oppressive stillness. And one was weak—dangerously weak.
“All we can do is hope,” Tyaniis answered the unasked question. “This is all my fault.”
“Mis—Tyaniis!” Dyni pulled her, gently, into a hug. Or suggested one at least—Tyaniis had to lean down to allow Dyni to get her arms around her upper body.
“We could have predicted this. We could’ve assumed they’d take the risk of attacking at the coming-of-age ceremony. We could’ve had a private ceremony—made the announcement later and handled the backlash.” Tyaniis swallowed heavily, then continued in a much quieter voice, “I could’ve taken the throne and not forced it on my sister.”
Dyni’s silence spoke volumes, but she didn’t let it linger. “You tried your best.”
Tyaniis hissed. “That means nothing.”
“You are mortal, Tyaniis.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I’m a failure.”
“Your daughters are alive because of you. Hssen because of you. You saved lives.”
“From the danger I brought about.”
“The Empire’s enemies attacked the ceremony, not you.”
Tyaniis hissed. “It’s… I have blame. I am not faultless.”
“Never said you were.”
“Then I am a failure.”
“Tyaniis…”
The immense hssen broke the hug and took one last look at her sister, Jii’Hssen Ssyii, sleeping peacefully. Is she dreaming? Will she ever wake up?
“Get some rest Dyni. I need to see Ussyri Noksi about strengthening my heart.” And I need something to take my mind off my failures. She slithered for the door without looking back.
“Your daughters will be safe.”
Tyaniis stopped. “If they are not, there is no injury but death that will halt my vengeance.” She left without saying another word.
***
Dyni lingered a while longer, feeling the burning itch of her still-healing wounds as she stared at the empress in repose. Magic could do much, but it could not regrow lost flesh, nor could it wake their sleeping ruler.
Dyni herself would probably need another week of bedrest for this little stunt, but she had to pull her mis—Tyaniis—she had to pull Tyaniis out of her downward spiral. This is just like when she lost Hinssa.
Dyni still blamed herself for that, so there was no way Tyaniis didn’t. Her fists clenched hard enough to draw blood, and tears blurred her eyes out of focus.
Why would Jaezotl allow such a woman as Tyaniis to suffer so greatly? She wanted to curse the sky, but bit down on her tongue. No, such thoughts beget only despair.
What Tyaniis, and Dyni—and the entire ruling class of the Empire and of the Temple—needed to do now was to look forward, not back. Lest they miss the finishing blow.
With Jii’Hssen Ssyii in an endless sleep and growing weaker, Hssen Lassani would be regent. If Jii’Hssen Ssyii did not wake up, succession procedure would need to be followed, and soon. As the current Jii’Hssen had no partner, nor offspring, the question would then fall to the younger generation.
If one considered Tyaniis’s abdication of the position to extend to her children, which as far as Dyni knew from her extensive reading on the subject was not written into law, then the children of Hssen Zaiia would be next. Except she had turned traitor and disappeared.
Would Hssen Lassani fight such an outcome? Almost certainly, as would Tyaniis and probably the Temple as well. Though they had no say in the succession of the Jii’Hssen, their hand would no doubt weigh the scales.
Lassani’s children then? Sysiss was the only one of age, and she had never shown any interest in matters of rule or law or etiquette. Would Jaezotl even grant his blessing to such a choice?
Would Lassani as regent be able to hold off the influence of the decentralists long enough for the shrewd Nozyn to come of age? No man had ever held the title, but traditionalists could maybe be swayed by an argument that his expression of self was less important than the fact he was ra’zhii.
And then there was the final consideration. That Tyaniis could sponsor her own children, and argue that her abdication due to tragedy should not extend to her progeny. Kyrae would never be accepted by the ussen, and ra’zhii were traditionally given priority. Dyni closed her eyes and swallowed, offering a prayer to Jaezotl, not just for the health of Tyaniis and her daughters, but for the Jii’Hssen’s swift recovery.
From across the Empire, Dyni could do no more than hope that Issa was maturing into someone worthy of leading the Empire of Jii’Kalaga.