Our Sorrowful Mother,
Her Radiance Celeste,
Blessed be her name.
-The Gospel according to the Holy First Handmaiden Valleresa
Gardinal stood before the grand inner doors of the royal palace, a bead of nervous sweat dripping down his brow. He had marched to war, had faced down cultists, and stood his ground against daemons. None of that had left him as nervous as this. They had been summoned by His Majesty the King of Terminia himself. With a long, deep sigh, Gardinal eyed the rest of his companions searching for signs that he was not alone in his discomfort.
Vallerian, of course, was fiddling with the gold rope that hung from the fine crushed velvet cape that hung over his left shoulder, seemingly unaware of the monumentality of the occasion. His twin, Valleresa, at least seemed to be comforting Arabella. The poor Joln girl somehow appearing worse than Gardinal felt, with her big brown eyes seeming unsure on what gilded surface to linger on.
Glancing to his other side, Gardinal took in the majesty of Her Radiance. The dress she wore made her appear as stately as any queen he had served. Though her neckline was cut a tad lower than he would have liked, even with her high-necked shift. Gardinal had many thoughts on how men might look at The Prophetess in such a dress, none of them good.
“Brother Gardinal if you scowl any harder, you’ll have me sweating as bad as you are.” Kriss jested from the other side of Her Radiance. The handsome young man looked quite dashing in his fine uniform. A captain of the Faith Militia, Gardinal had been given the honor bestowing that title upon the boy, and he would do it again in an instant.
“I’ll be fine lad.” Gardinal grunted back to the young man, forcing his face to relax a bit. Only a bit. “Are you prepared, Your Radiance?”
“It’s only the king.” Vallerian cut in before The Prophetess had a chance to respond. “Don’t see why you’re so flustered about all this.”
“Vallerian you big fool, if you’re not…” Gardinal began to splutter before a hand fell on his arm. Looking over, Celeste just smiled at him.
“Brother Gardinal,” Valleresa spoke up in the tone of an overly patient mother. “Please stop playing into my brother’s games. If you didn’t react so spectacularly, he wouldn’t toy with you so.”
“I’m not…” Gardinal began before being cut off.
“Ahem.” A stuffy old Sherya steward cleared his throat, stepping out from a small side door on the same wall as the larger they stood before. “It is time.”
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All at once their eyes darted between one another, each nodding and giving small smiles of support. A small soft hand grabbed Gardinal’s and squeezed, a bit of light flowing into him.
“You’ll do great.” The Prophetess whispered, and Gardinal believed it.
Rolling his eyes dismissively, the steward gave a small tap on the huge, gilded doors before them. The massive entryway, carved to depict the founding of Terminia, with one side dedicated to the first Sherya Queen, and the other her husband the first Fereni King, swung inwards. Gardinal, Celeste, Vallerian, Kriss, Arabella, and Valleresa all entered together.
“Presenting: The Heroes of Southshore!” A herald announced them to a fanfare from dozens of trumpeters. The sound reverberated across the huge room, echoing over the heads of the assembled.
From those heads, hundreds of eyes turned on them. Those eyes, cold as steel and calculating as a hawk. The great court of Terminia, home to the most powerful lords and ladies in the whole world. Looking back at them Gardinal swallowed, doing his best not to let his gaze linger on any one for too long. Sweeping over the cool, composed faces, Gardinal spotted one face that he recognized. His lover, the Grand Duke of the Fereni, stood in a place of honor only a stone’s throw from the king himself. Seeing the man look back at him, Gardinal felt his cheeks turn red. He quickly made a study of the room, pointedly avoiding who sat so near the handsome man.
Running the length of the hall, fluted columns at least twice as wide as himself stretched up sixty feet into a vaulted ceiling, seeming to dwarf the people crowded around them. Crawling up each pillar was delicate gold filigree if to suggest vines and flowers. It glistened brilliantly against the colored light cascading in from huge stained-glass windows lining the walls.
Those massive windows, at least as tall as any four men, depicted scenes as ancient as the birth of the First Fruits, to the founding of Terminia. Next to those windows, expertly carved statues jutted out the walls, carved to appear as Fereni heroes from legend carrying banners sewn of silk. Each of the truly colossal white banners hung thirty feet down, with the four-crested symbol of House Enyenweld hand embroidered into each. Four crested for the four Grand Dutchies of Terminia. All sworn in fealty to the king.
At that, Gardinal’s eyes settled on what lay at the end of their path, The Throne. That was what it was called across the world, for if anyone was asked who sat on The Throne, they knew it could only be that of Terminia. The seat itself was a simple white marble, gilded and inset with moonstones. But holding it aloft, with a short staircase leading up, was a gold-plated unicorn rearing and a silver-plated shark rising out of white marble waves. They were the sigils of the ancient Sherya house Enyenlas and Fereni house Welderon. Together they had united to create the royal house, Enyenweld. The crest of the Throne had a silver crescent moon cupping a gold shining sun, with seven eye-sized cut moonstones arrayed around in a circle. It all proved a physical reminder that the man who sat that throne had been chosen to rule by the Pantheon themselves. Gardinal looked to that man and could only stare at his magnificence.