A thousand years built Cartasinde, a thousand more grew it into the sprawl it was today, and a mere two hundred made it empire. Nearing the palace, the streets turned marbled, the buildings on the sides grander in their gildings, and lords and ladies were everywhere, each trailed by an entourage whose numbers betrayed which of them were princes, dukes and margraves, and which were merely thegns or baronets. Everywhere, the red banner of the Imperial House of Rosavor and their gold-crowned roses. One could almost believe that they endured millennia standing loyally along the Rose, but Ise read her histories well enough to know that her own bloodline preceded the Imperial Rose by thousands of years. This proud Basileus was no more than a footnote to the Ruby Blossom.
Sitting opposite to her in their stagecoach, Henriette Valchenza paid little attention to the city outside their windows, instead writing careful notes on a little black book. She kept track of debts and favors called, and every few minutes the coach would stop for her to briefly visit some noble of significance, always returning with a full purse which she handed to Princess Hiramatsu by her side.
“Are there yet many stops before the imperial palace?” The princess asked Henriette. “I did not know our Rose was owed so many outstanding debts.”
“These are merely the ones paid in gold and ryals, contracts and letters of credit,” she said. “The ones we can most safely enforce. Word has already reached the city, of course, how could it not? And far beyond, too, as no nation was untouched by the loss we suffered. We cannot ascertain the extent to which the world knows of our tribulations, but for the time being our frailty is not yet fully revealed. Give it a month, and half of our allies will have delusions of defiance. Disloyalty will follow, so until then, we must strengthen our position.”
“That they would be so ungrateful and petty as to see our loss as a mere convenience to their own plots, that they would relinquish their duties for finding us toothless…” Ise felt no need to conceal her fury. To think of these fat pampered nobles and richlings whose wealth and safety was built atop the bones of her sisters and her mothers… She turned wroth eyes towards Sayuri. No Hiramatsu had ever been throned until they bound their fortunes to Rosavor.
“Our hour of darkness will reveal resentments long-hidden, I fear,” said Henriette. “I’ve known many who longed to free themselves of what they thought was the yoke of the Blossoms, our thorns keeping them in our bindings. Many who think that their centuries of peace are owed to their Basileus and his shroud of gold. Our triumphs have cost us dearly, in a way. For much of the world, the fell horrors we fought were distant rumors and whispers. Why then should they be feared? The half-witted see their safety and prosperity and think it a natural state of affairs, rather than something paid for in blood. Our blood,” she sighed. “Such is the folly of man. Mayhaps we shan’t need the Blossoms, for when have you last seen the corruption of demons and dark magics? And should darkness fall, their armies will suffice, their burgeoning industries and sciences. They think us artifacts of the past.”
“But our loss was for their salvation,” said Sayuri. As she spoke, the coach halted briefly, to make way for a passing prince of Graufor. “All life would have been extinguished if not for the sacrifice at the World-Wound…”
“So it is,” she said, turning to the princess. “Still, it will mean nothing to them. They can believe it our lie, or simply give it no importance. Have you ever known anyone to turn aside the prospect of growing their own power or wealth, or their freedom? ‘Tis human nature. We cannot change it. Good or ill, it is what we dedicate our lives to defend. We must take the needed precautions to maintain our strength as best we can, so that the world won’t suffer for its ignorance and short-sightedness.”
Hatred washed over Ise, and, an instant later, shame. It was not for acknowledgment that the Blossoms fought, but simply because someone must. It was not theirs to judge the peoples under their protection, but, given the powers they were entrusted, they were to fight the evils that none could. Kasumi, Nanase, Kirari, Haruna… It was for something greater that her sisters fought and died for, so Ise knew she should not dishonor their memory.
“What sort of reception should we expect from the Basileus?” Ise asked of Henriette. She had little love for the House of Rosavor and of the changes their dominion had brought to Tawarasato, but for the sake of the Rose she was willing to stifle her opinions.
“It is the wont of men in high stations to reach ever higher,” she said, adjusting the bright red blossoms along her headband. Ise would have presumed that the crimson rose on her eyepatch would be a sufficient statement of loyalty, but perhaps not. Henriette clad herself in enough roses to suffice the whole Rose Council which she now survived. “The Red Rose has long outlasted the cycle of empires and nobility, so the ascension of Rosavor two centuries ago mattered little to the Rose’s long-term plans. True, the imperial lineage has had quite the appetite for expanding its grasp and influence, gathering so many nations under the shroud of empire, but that was not contrary to our Blossom’s will. Now Basileus Johannes may think himself and his brood to have outgrown our covenant. He is not a dishonorable man, I’ll grant him that, but he is uninspiring, unremarkable, ordinary save for the power he was born into. He is an easy enough man to befriend.”
“So I presume it is his children which worry you,” said Sayuri. “And his siblings. And his nephews and nieces…”
“I will put it plainly,” Henriette sighed, “seeing the litters of white-haired pups that spring forth from their beds, I would be tempted to believe the Basileus intends to raise an army from his kin. Alas, it is too late for the Empire to adopt the ancient tradition of certain Ubaithan breeds of putting their surplus scions to the sword. Johannes has been generous to his kin, perhaps too generous. Each one feels entitled to lands and reigns and privileges, and they have felt free to cultivate their ambitions. I mistrust Prince Baldwin, as he has the characteristic greed of a second son who feels the call of conquest to leave his brother’s shadow. He is no friend of the Rose, or of anyone who would hinder his ambitions.”
“Is it true that Princess Ingrid dabbles in diabolism?” Sayuri asked.
“None speak of it in the imperial halls, but yes,” said Henriette. “She was rejected by our Rose, and I fear she still holds on to that grudge. It was shortly before I ascended the Council, and there were whispers that my predecessor’s dismissal was a concession to the Crown, as she had signed the order to refuse Ingrid’s Efflorescence.”
“Why so?” Ise knew less of the imperial politics than she perhaps should, having focused her studies on spear and spell, as the youngest of five sisters was not expected to meddle with political matters.
“Princess Ingrid was a fine magical talent as a child, as half a dozen dead kittens would attest to. A shame that her talent was in the contorting of entrails and the burning of flesh. The Basileus hoped that the Red Rose might tame her, or at least conceal her, but the Council was unwilling to turn bloom-sisters into the minders of a coddled child. And, besides, it was a firm gesture and reminder that the Ruby Blossom does not serve Rosavor cravings. It sends a good strong message, you see, to coldly rebuke a Basileus from time to time. Mercifully, Ingrid has no prospects of being crowned. The imperial line is not so degenerate as to leave her unpunished after her killing of her handmaiden, so her research expedition to the Swallowed Coast is really exile.”
“What fine allies we are saddled with,” Ise sighed. “Are you certain my presence will be a boon?”
“Johannes respects the name Ubami,” said Henriette. “When he’s not putting children into the world, true and baseborn alike, he fancies himself an erudite, so he has studied his histories. The ones writ by our Blossom. Be respectful towards him, but not supplicant. He knows to respect your family’s devotion to justice, and he is willing to be content with concessions and presents that would not whet his kinsfolk’s appetites. If we can leverage that and steer him towards an acceptable direction, all will be well.”
“And if we cannot…?” Sayuri asked.
Henriette turned her gaze outside, again, her eye focused on something far away. It was natural for her to take on such responsibilities as the sole remaining Blossom of the Council, but none could ever be prepared to shoulder such burdens alone. Even the other survivors had looked to Henriette for guidance, and she could never refuse. Not when the alternative was leaving the Rose in the hands of those such as Princess Sayuri.
“The Blossom has endured a dozen succession crises,” Henriette shrugged. “At times we backed the winning side, but on other occasions we have erred. And neutrality has often served us just fine. However the centuries sway, we withstand the winds of history by bending and bowing as necessary, but never breaking and never straying from our purpose.”
The remainder of the journey was mostly silent, save for Ise’s occasional questions whenever she passed by an unfamiliar sight, when she could not discern the purpose behind a building’s ornate façades. That is a branch of the Scarlet Erarium, Henriette explained, for the patronage of the wealthiest and noblest in Cartasinde; that is the manse of Lord Feithsar, a benefactor of the Ars Innovatio Guild; that is a military academy unaffiliated with our own Rosa Aeterna. The grandeur of Cartasinde astonished Ise, though when she looked into the far distance and managed to catch glimpses of industry smoke and humbler districts downhill, cancerous growth seemed a more apt term than grandeur. Cartasinde was half a dozen cities built atop one another, a dozen empires atop the bones of fallen dynasties, the remnants of cultures and languages still lingering under the sun, structures built on the husks of temples and mausoleums of old heresies now verboten. It had as many names as it had centuries, too.
The Tower of Rebirth had many names, too, and it was a city on its own, and Rosa Aeterna Academy was larger still, but Cartasinde dwarfed them both manifold. Its sheer scale imbued it with a sense of wrongness, at least to Ise, but her peers didn’t seem to think similarly. How one could ever grow used to this sprawl was beyond her.
The stagecoach’s next stop was when they finally reached the outskirts of the imperial palace; gate guards requested that Henriette identify herself, and state her business. Minutes passed as authorities in increasing standing were brought one after the other to repeat the same questions each time. A captain of the guard, an usher, a steward and a seneschal whose exact distinction eluded Ise, and, finally, one Minister Faris entrusted with matters of foreign affairs, which, Ise supposed, might as well include the Red Rose. What she did not understand was why the former minister had been replaced; Ise was not so ignorant as to be unaware that the ministry was last held by a Vadurian woman, and Faris was neither.
“Esteemed guests, welcome to the Rosencourt, seat of His Radiance the Basileus Johannes Valdemar Rosavor, our Most Luminous Defender and Shield of all Peoples,” he proclaimed to all who could hear. A crowd was gathered around the stagecoach, curious onlookers whispering to one another. “My Ladies of the Blossom desire an audience with our Basileus, to which I extend my sincere apologies for our lacking reception. If you have sent word in advance, I regret that our recent reforms have caused the neglect of certain protocols, so our Basileus has not been warned of your intentions and is currently preoccupied.”
“No matter,” said Henriette. “His preoccupations are of lesser priority than our Rose’s business. It will be his desire to be informed at once and have us brought before His Radiance. Impress upon him the urgency of the matter.”
“I shall have a page send word to His-”
“You will impress upon him the urgency of the matter,” Henriette insisted. “Only someone of your station can speak with words loud enough to convey how important it is that he grace us with his attention.”
“I understand,” said Faris, unwilling to continue his questioning in the face of Henriette’s firmness. He waved a hand at the guards and then departed.
Not long after, the coach was moving again, entering the imperial gardens with its topiaries and fountains, all adorned with the flora of many lands. The grounds were roamed by fowl walking freely, by beasts from all corners of the Empire, though the most exotic - as well as the most dangerous - were kept confined in the lakeside menagerie. In the waters of the ponds that littered the sides of the road through the gardens, marvelous fishes formed gleaming rainbows as they swam together. Ise tried to locate the nishikigoi that had been a gift from the previous Peony King, Sayuri’s grandfather. They were easier to track by night, when they glittered under the moon, so today they evaded Ise’s sight.
Courtiers and nobles from everywhere in the Empire paused only briefly to gaze upon the emissaries of the Rose, before going on their way, wherever it might be. Ise would have found it amusing, were she in a mood to laugh, how in appearance at least the bustle of the palace was alike that of the Tower of Rebirth in its better days, but where there all the Blossoms had their own singular purpose and duties, Ise found it hard to believe that each and every of these courtiers had much of a reason to be there save for the currying of favor and aristocratic indulgences. Here beneath the shadow of the Tower of Rebirth, within the reach and wardenship of the Ruby Blossom, they were free to enjoy their peace at no cost to themselves. That is what we are sworn to protect, she reminded herself, though the sight of noblemen too fat to walk unaided soured her thoughts. Not all of the millions of mouths of Cartasinde are so amply fed, nor all of its homes unmolested by soot and grime.
When the coach halted at last, Ise was the first to step out, quickly followed by her companions. Henriette said a word to old Veyre who guided the stagecoach, and with a grumble he drove away, leaving the three Blossoms to be guided into the palace by a dozen strangers all speaking at once in a dozen voices and accents and not one word that Ise could understand, so with Henriette and Sayuri she merely followed the crowd inside.
Past the huge, ostentatious gates, the wealth of the Rosavors revealed itself to all, demanding attention wherever one turned to look. These halls might have been beautiful once, but now every corner bore some display of opulence, some proof of imperial hegemony. An excess of crystals, statues and busts, paintings with distinctive styles of different nations and decades, each framed with ornate gildings. Past the grand foyer, Ise stopped trying to identify each distinct treasure, understanding that it didn’t matter what they were, only that they symbolized the wealth accumulated by the many empires that called Cartasinde their seat of power over the ages. Spoils of conquest, whether wrought by the steel and fire of war or by the ink of treaties; the House of Rosavor had spread its dominion primarily through the latter, but the threat of arms was always there, embodied here by the gilded warhorns of Shinbesse, runic blades of the many nations of Siodrune, the elegant armors and crests of Eslanian dynasties.
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The office they were brought to, in contrast, seemed plain, though anywhere else it would have been quite magnificent, tall walls adorned with massive maps of the imperial demesne, opposite to immense bookshelves bearing thousands of heavy tomes, all fine leather, each cushioned seat around the reading room made of pristine, magnificent woods, armrests carved with immaculate details, which Ise’s untrained eyes struggled to identify properly. Located some distance from the throne and the principal halls of the palace, where balls were held and dignitaries were received with great pomp, the Basileus’s private offices didn’t need to present imperial power in so crude a fashion. A page opened heavy mahogany doors and urged the visitors step inside for their meeting.
The Basileus would have never received them alone, but the two closest to him, Basilissa Sigrun and Prince Baldwin, very well may have been the most unwelcome sights, the two of them the very portrait of the ambition Henriette had decried in confidence. She called for Sayuri and Ise to follow at once, and they did without question, until the three stood before the Basileus in his office, sitting at the head of his long table while his brother and wife stood by his side.
“It is customary to kneel before His Radiance,” declared the Basilissa, extending a pale arm, “and to kiss Her Radiance’s ring.”
“We are not subjects of Rosavor, but allies in unique standing,” Henriette said with no hesitation. “You would do well to enlighten yourself on the minutiae of the terms of our covenant, Your Radiance.”
“And you would do well to mind your tongue before the highest authority on this earth,” said Prince Baldwin.
“Brother, do not antagonize our esteemed guests,” said the Basileus, without great firmness. “The Lady Valchenza is correct in that the terms agreed upon by my ancestors relinquish our friends of the Rose from the trappings of courtesy and noblesse. I have read the documents signed then, as well as its amendments.”
“Such terms were signed when there were more Blossoms drawing breath,” said Baldwin. “Hundreds, thousands of them close to our capital. Now such terms may require negotiation.”
“Perhaps. But I mislike your tone, brother, especially when you stand before the scion of House Ubami. To stand before one of such a storied lineage honors us all. I am sorry for the loss that has afflicted you all. All realms mourn the passings of countless young guardians, reaped before their time.”
Not all were young, thought Ise, thinking of her mother. She accepted the condolences coldly, with naught but a curt nod.
“Nevertheless, we are not the Red Rose,” said Baldwin. “Merely its allies, no? You come now seeking our aid, but surely you understand the concessions we will require. The Empire has grown thanks to its own strength, and it is not ours to rescue you expecting no recompense. That is your oath, not ours.”
“We understand,” said Princess Sayuri. “We expect nothing to be given freely. My family are supporters of your dynasty’s reign, and I understand well enough that the Rose’s intentions do not always perfectly align with the plans of great men. You wish to change the world, and our Rose is slow to change. None would fault your frustration. The Red Rose thinks in centuries, beyond the lifespan of one person, no matter how high. At times, however, we must expedite our reforms.”
Ise wondered if Sayuri had rehearsed her words with Henriette, playing the princess allied to the Empire more than the Rose. It was a clever ploy, Ise admitted. Fool that she was, Princess Sayuri was a loyal Blossom, and, if she was anything like how she had been in Tawarasato, easy to manipulate. Everything that her family had gained they owed the House of Rosavor, so her presence here would serve as proof of good faith.
“And what aid do you need from us?” Asked Sigrun. “A thousand young girls, that you might select the worthy?”
“We must recruit anew, and with urgency,” said Henriette. “New harvests must be held throughout the Empire to replenish our ranks, and for that we need your consent and assistance. In usual times, our cultivation is done gradually, as we tend to our Gardens,” she said, using the old-fashioned term for the separate regions under the wardenship of the Blossoms, from which every year they recruited a number of young girls with promise. “Noble and common children alike given to our Order, winnowed and inducted into Efflorescence. It is a great honor, but we limit the number of chosen both to ensure we can manage the education and care of future Blossoms and so as to allow the populace to prepare, to prevent any suspicions that we are raising armies and may ever dream of subjugation. This arrangement has worked well, but in the coming years we will need a greater harvest.”
“I will speak plainly to you,” said Johannes. “Oft do I hear whispers from my vassals that the influence of your Rose is all-encompassing, and to their detriment. Everywhere, children are taught your histories, your values, and are brought up under your authority. Often you stand in the way of desired changes, and with the Rosa Aeterna under your control, all advances in the sciences happen only in accordance with your priorities.”
“It is almost as though you seek to maintain hegemony of the arts and instruments of war,” said Prince Baldwin. “That way you may remain the world’s sole defenders. Perhaps if further studies on forbidden sciences and substances could be freely performed, mankind could vanquish its own demons.”
“You do not begin to imagine the consequences such a mistake would bring,” said Henriette. “Even against your will, we shall spare you this lesson. Nevertheless, we will hear your other demands. Just not this one. Ours is a duty that we must never relinquish.”
“But surely you may relinquish some of the exceptional privileges you were granted in the past,” the Basilissa retorted. “Though we shan’t demand you release your grasp on the Academy, the passing of its directing council means there is no better time than now to restructure its organization. Let talented academics unaffiliated to your Rose determine the future of research and knowledge, less bound to your decrees. By all means, you may retain some positions… Merely not all of them.”
“And we would rather you uphold your supposed neutrality by giving up your say on imperial succession,” said Baldwin. A bold play, to put it charitably. Ise wondered if Johannes was in full agreement, but the Basileus remained stoic. “Though you have nobility, even royalty within your ranks, you are not princesses or high ladies whilst serving the Rose, so it seems improper, to me, that you have such sway in the imperial election. Kings have the right to select among themselves the Rosavor to take the throne next, and they carefully and wisely listen to their own vassals, each with their own considerations to make. Many are displeased by the disproportionate influence you Blossoms have.”
“If relinquishing our voting rights in the imperial succession would alleviate this displeasure, then that is a fair price,” said Henriette. “But not, I presume, your only one.”
“Of course not,” said Sigrun. “Allowing you to expand your numbers so dramatically and in short order is a great deal of freedom we offer you, and a great privilege. The cooperation of the world in your time of need, too, cannot be freely given, considering the toll it demands of us all. If you alleviate some of your grasp on the affairs of the nations, then you’ll avoid a great deal of trouble by those who feel you are strangling them. His Radiance has a duty to all under the mantle of the Empire, and he is no tyrant to simply decree that all must follow his decisions. As such, our terms must include prizes to be given to our vassals, that everyone might be satisfied.”
“I’ve my own thoughts on the matter,” said Johannes, “but please, brother, you are well-traveled and in frequent correspondence with kings and grand princes, dukes and men of great power and esteem. You know what they desire.”
“To be freed from certain choking arrangements,” he said. “The Rose has many commercial interests, especially when it comes to the development of the newfound lands and bounties of Aztormol. In addition, your oversight of the governance of the kingdoms under imperial protection has been… Less than welcome, at times. You Blossoms may have forgotten, but most of us mislike the feeling of always being watched, of having to follow the paths you’ve laid before us. We are not children to be coddled and controlled lest we misbehave.”
That is exactly what you are, Ise thought, biting her tongue. She wished she had more to add, but this was not her expertise. Henriette had assured her that merely being a reminder of the esteem and history of the Rose was enough, and that it was important for Ise and Sayuri to further their education in diplomacy. Still, this was not Ise’s way. Nanase and Kirara were better-suited for negotiations and wars of words. Bitter longings settled in her heart, and Ise had to turn away for a moment, only listening to the conversation behind her as she tried to find a window to gaze through. She caught glimpses of the gardens, made colorful behind stained glass, but that was hardly the calm she sought.
“That is acceptable,” said Henriette. “You may tell your kings and lords that they shall be freed from our advice and guidance. But they will fully cooperate as we garrison our outposts and headquarters with new Blossoms. We will still do our duty as bastions of the realms, rooting out all evils and all black magics. The Great Nightmare is slain, alongside his dark acolytes, but safety and peace are ever ephemeral.”
“So be it, so be it,” said the Basileus. “Limit your presence in the provinces to a defensive one, and grant all nations greater autonomy where it comes to education and development. Certainly there’ll be other requests, but for now-”
“Repeal the Decree of Heresies,” Prince Baldwin interrupted his Basileus. Ise turned back at once. She could not see Henriette’s expression, but knew it could not be a pleased one. “The high and lowborn both long for it, however much you’d like to pretend that is not the case.”
“Your Radiance,” she said with a softness that belied her tension, “this meeting would be most productive if held in the absence of your kin.”
“The insolence-” the Basilissa began, but her husband urged her to be silent.
“I must insist,” said Henriette.
“I will not leave my brother alone with three Blossoms,” said Baldwin. “This is-”
“Necessary,” Henriette did not turn away from the Basileus, disregarding the other two. “It is a matter where your partiality would hinder negotiations. And there are truths which are for the ears of the Basileus only, not his consort or his brother.”
“So be it,” Johannes made a dismissive gesture. “If pertinent, I shall share it with you in due time, wife, brother. Please, leave us. I expect this will not take long.”
Sigrun looked as though she had more words to utter, but as soon as Prince Baldwin merely walked away without a word, in spite of his belligerence, the Basilissa followed in a silence most sullen. Then, when the door shut behind the Blossoms and Basileus Johannes, the man let out a lengthy sigh.
“You mean to discuss matters of succession, I presume,” he said, rising to his feet. “Your partiality would hinder negotiations… The meaning is plain to all. What is it? Do you not intend to give up your say on succession, is that it? I’m afraid that is not up for debate.”
“Not at all, Your Radiance,” said Henriette. “As promised, we won’t interfere. In fact, we hope that the day of your succession is still far ahead of us. You hope so too, I am certain.”
“All men hope to postpone death.”
“Though it comes alike for the poorest pauper and the most illuminated emperor,” said Henriette. “You love your family. It has always been a trait the Rose respected about you. And so you are aware of the growing divisions in your own House.”
“Even the blind could see that,” said the Basileus, who suddenly looked quite tired. He was not at all an old man, though aged and starting to wrinkle, but he had never been as robust as his younger brother, so even once age began to wither him, he would do so gracefully rather than shrink into a shell of himself. “You’re right, of course. Mayhaps I have sinned in loving too deeply and too freely. I have adored both my departed wives,” he said, and the myriad fruits of his loins were proof of that truth. “Neither of their passings extinguished my passions and my desire to love. Alas that an abundance of children cannot be merely a blessing, a succor as I age. I know that when death claims me, my sin of love will have consequences.”
“None would blame you for that,” said Ise, thinking of her sisters. To her, a large family had always been a blessing.
“My Sigrun wants one of hers to take the throne,” he continued, “as she fears for their positions if left unshielded should succession meet with a terrible crisis. Some of my eldest children see the youngest as threats, not wishing their heritage further divided, and of course they’ve their qualms with the offspring of my other wives. Elena’s children despise Vicinna’s, and though such bad blood has mostly eluded Sigrun’s children, I worry nonetheless, as every father worries about his children once he is gone.”
“There may yet be time for hatreds so incensed to dissipate as the years go by and youthful passions and ambitions are mollified. Not all are as Baldwin.”
“You may speak of him in a manner that I cannot speak of my brother,” he sighed once more. It seemed his lot in life to sigh over his family. “I love him, but he has always wanted me to name him my preferred successor even after my firstborn, Lauritz, came into this world. It must ache, to be so near the heights of power but to never be able to claim it. He is a proud man, and the years made him resentful. As did the business with his daughter the Princess Ingrid. His wife bore no further issue; unlike me, he has no more love to give, so his line shan’t expand. Though I doubt that even having one of his own children throned would satisfy him. He is not a bad man, in truth, neither disloyal nor treacherous. But even the highest have their unsatisfied ambitions.”
“What of your own ambitions, Your Radiance?” Henriette questioned, but he did not reply. “There is one fatherly ambition that we can aid you with, if you will allow us. Princess Krisolde, Princess Ryscrux… As your youngest, there are no expectations that they’ll be elected your successors. But nonetheless they will be seen as pieces of the dynastic board. And though we all pray for every succession to be bloodless and amiable, we have read the histories of the realms, have we not? What I offer, thus, is their safety. Let them join our Rose. In so doing, they will relinquish their claims to succession, which were never realistic or desired, if you’ll allow me the assumption. Her Radiance should be pleased to have her girls shielded from the distasteful affairs of inheritance, and Prince Baldwin won’t argue against the safety and well-being of his nieces, and won’t press the topic of the Decree of Heresies.”
“And you have two of your own among the imperial bloodline,” the Basileus smiled sadly. “They are good girls. I had hoped that they might keep me company in my old age. I never wished them to be part of the ugliness of politics, that they might marry for love. As I married their mother. But their birth denies them those freedoms. How curious that even to your Rose they are used as temptations to make an arrangement more agreeable.”
“They will be cared for,” Sayuri promised. “I can attest to that. The lords of Tawarasato were not fond of the imposition of equal inheritance determined by the Empire and the Rose. It was safer here, as a girl, than to be involved in dynastic plays. With the Rose now weakened, those impositions may be undone.”
“Is that so, child?” Johannes looked into the princess’ eyes. “Are you at peace with your lot?”
“I would have been the first queen of Tawarasato in millennia,” she said. “I am not so brave. And I know that this was not a decree that the realm happily accepted. For whatever my word is worth, I promise you that I am happier now than I had been at home, and safer as well. When I relinquish my duties as a Blossom, in the future, I may yet marry for love, and live pleasantly, freely. Even princesses and queens cannot boast of that privilege. And your daughters will be close. They will see you grow old, and will be by your side, and so will their children.”
“Hm. Yes, yes, I can accept that,” he said, seemingly deep in thought. “I’ll leave my daughters in your care. But you must tell me true of the calamity that has befallen your Order. Only then will I consent.”
“Very well. The Great Nightmare, deep within the World-Wound, neared completion of a ritual to claim all souls on this earth. Our sisters who fought there, faced with no choice and no time, interfered with those deep magics, and instead it was the majority of the Blossoms who paid the price. Such is the truth of the tale. The less the world learns of how close it stood on the brink of annihilation, the better. The full extent needn’t be announced. And the ritual site has been wiped out, the leylines themselves reshaped by such profound spells. It cannot be repeated, and shall never happen again.”
“Never?” The Basileus asked, looking deep into each Blossom’s eyes, in turn.
“Never,” said Ise. “We promise.”