Clink clink clink!

The sounds of a metal teaspoon tapping against the ceramic of the cup are the only noise at the otherwise awkwardly silent tea table under the outdoor pavilion once more.

The company is as pleasant as can be, short of one’s own parents, as Byleathea practically raised Thermihk. In fact, it’s more than just ‘practically’. She nursed him, tutored him alongside Sundenelle, and watched over him when he was ill. The only one who would compare would be his nanny, who also was present for many of the same events.

That said, with a consort and her daughters assassinated, and Byleathea and Sundenelle considered even more disposable, it’s easy to worry that they could be next.

And, as the younger brother of the heir apparent and Crown Prince declared to the people, Thermihk is effectively an adversary in these tumultuous times.

He honestly hates it.

He misses the days that he and Sundenelle would run around the gardens and orchards, looking at bugs, running from snakes, poking each other with sticks and grass stems, and otherwise getting into mischief the lower-ranking royal children could get into. He never saw Byleathea’s status nor Sundenelle’s resultant abnormal rank as a bastard daughter. They were his mother figure and sister before anything else.

“Do you need anything in the annex, Lady Byleathea?” asks Thermihk, finally summoning the courage to break the ice.

She pastes on her smile, which holds a surprising level of warmth in spite of being her diplomatic expression.

“We are well stocked and shouldn’t need to trouble anyone for the time being. Thank you for asking, your Highness.”

“It’s only natural. Though, I had hoped you would begin moving to one of the villas…”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t bring myself to leave my daughter, and she refuses to leave her home. I’m sorry for worrying you, Prince Thermihk.”

He remains thoughtfully silent. It’s the same dance they’ve been doing since the Emperor passed. Byleathea isn’t as valued by Sundenelle as the Emperor was, it seems. And, for all of her intelligence, Sundenelle doesn’t seem to grasp how much danger she is in at the Imperial Palace. His brothers don’t share the same integrity or morals that Thermihk does, as the two respective mothers for those who stand the greatest chance of claiming the throne are far more ambitious than Byleathea or the Second Consort who was assassinated.

“Have you heard any rumors about her Grace Consort Thennia, my Lady?”

Byleathea shakes her head sadly. “No. Only that she and her daughters were murdered and their bodies set aflame.” She clutches her teacup nervously. “Dreadful… How could something like that happen within the Imperial Palace?”

The prince sighs. “That is what I’m looking into myself. Unfortunately…” He looks to the side, disgusted with even thinking it, even though it’s the most likely answer. There are lots of people who will pick off rivals. Taking out the weakest standing members of the Imperial Family will raise the guard of the more important members, but it will also serve as a threat to them. The Empress is the true wife of the Emperor, while the Consorts are legal partners, but with lower standing than the Empress. The Empress and her children are the true heirs to the throne before anyone else, and by eliminating any possible competition for her children, she sends a message to both the other princes and princesses, as well as the nobles, that there is no victory in taking any other side than her son’s.

Not that such a thing usually prevents a succession dispute, but it’s very possible that the Empress, Crown Prince, or even the First Consort’s family are thinning out the competition before the true succession battle begins. It’s not unthinkable that Sundenelle could have had a hand in it, but she would be mad to believe, short of assassinating everyone in the Imperial Family, that she could ever become Empress as a bastard Princess.

And, if she was trying to make that move, she would need more than her mother and the handful of Imperial Guards she has guarding the two of them. Even for this tea party, Thermihk has a larger escort than the entire annex does, it seems. It’s likely only a matter of time, and if he isn’t careful, he could lose Byleathea forever.

“Did you happen to invite Sundenelle to our tea party, Lady Byleathea?”

“I extended her an invitation, as you requested, but she has taken to reading over histories of the noble families of the Empire.”

“Oh? Does she intend to marry, then?”

“I expect so. I hope she will get herself out of this place as well.”

“Me too…” murmurs Thermihk softly.

The two continue to enjoy their tea. However, as she’s taking another sip, the teacup falls from Byleathea’s hands, shattering on the table before falling to the ground, hot tea spilling everywhere. She clutches her throat while doubling forward, and Thermihk bolts to his feet. “Byleathea!?”

She begins gasping for breaths, straining to breathe. Before long, she collapses from her chair before the prince can dive to catch her. He screams, “Byleathea!” He snaps as he cradles her head, “Fetch the palace physician! Immediately! And send for more guards!”

“Y-Your Highness…” protests one of the guards, but Thermihk’s brain is swirling in panic. He shouts, “Did I stutter!? Go! One of you help me get her inside!”

He lifts her from the ground, cradling the woman he often sees as his mother. She is a bit smaller than him now, since he has grown a fair bit into adulthood, but she is heavy enough that he needs to be careful.

He carries her quickly to the annex, while one of the remaining two guards escorts him inside.

When he bursts in, the small handful of servants catering to Sundenelle are startled, but Thermihk ignores them to make his way to the matron’s room. “Bring the physician as soon as he arrives!” He moves as quickly as he can, and Sundenelle appears, asking sharply, “What’s going o-... Mother!?”

She shrieks, bolting close. Thermihk does his best to get Byleathea to a bed before the princess can interfere. His strength is ready to give out.

“What happened!?” screams Sundenelle, horrified at her mother’s condition. “YOU!? HOW COULD YOU!?” screams the anguished teen.

“Me!?” shouts Thermihk in surprise. “You think I did this!?”

“Who else!?” snaps the blonde princess.

“Why would I do that!?”

“You tell me! Look at her! Is it because we’re disposable!?”

“You know I don’t think like that! How could you accuse me of this!? We need to…”

“We won’t be doing anything! Guards! Arrest this assassin!”

“Sundenelle, calm down! We’ll…!”

The door opens, and the prince’s guards grip their swords. “In the name of Her Majesty, you will stand down.”

However, they are quickly overwhelmed and tackled to the floor, captured as quickly as the scenario begins. More march in, and a gatonine gives instructions. “Make sure you disarm them of hidden knives and slip-binds.” He and two more knights approach Sundenelle, Thermihk, and the unconscious Byleathea.

“Wh-What’s the meaning of this!?” snaps Thermihk. He looks at Sundenelle, who has an icy and heartless expression. “My mother is like this, and you have the gall to ask me that? Of all our brothers and sisters… Thermihk… You disgust me.”

“I didn’t do this! Please listen!”

Thermihk resists as he’s dragged away, with one of the guards putting a fabric gag in his mouth and puts a bag over his head. He is completely outmatched, and most of his guards ran off to find the physician and inform other palace staff.

He has no idea who tried to poison Byleathea, but as soon as he can, he will get to the bottom of it and avenge her.

Worse than anything, he won’t be able to be by her side when she needs him most.

***

Sundenelle pets Byleathea’s cheek as her mother sleeps.

You fool, Mother. I knew you were too weak. But, I suppose I can still make this work.

The physician cleared the woman and provided emetic agents as soon as he arrived, which was delayed due to the First Princess’s chronic illness. Naturally, the Empress would have prioritized her own daughter. In fact, if she knew the physician was called to aid Byleathea, the Empress would have almost certainly have tried to delay the physician even further to increase the chances Byleathea would die.

Of course, assuming you went according to plan, there was no risk of death, right Mother.

She looks at the woman who remains unconscious.

The poison was meant for Brother, not you. Your body is weaker than his… You could have died.

She clutches Byleathea’s hand firmly. “Sleep well, Mother. Though, you’ve really tied my hands on some of my best schemes. You’re going to repay me… You lament not letting me be a princess. You’ll accomplish that soon enough.” She brushes Byleathea’s hair aside from her forehead, kissing her mother gently. “You’re lucky I expected you to be soft, Mother. You’ll have to actually try to thwart my plans.” She leaves the room, finding Sir Ecklevon waiting for her.

“Princess, we’ll move our guests to the villa once we can secure the route after nightfall. Though, we’ll likely need you to delay Lord Thermihk’s escort when they come to regroup with him.”

“Leave them to me. Have the documents been delivered to the gossip merchant?”

Ecklevon can’t help but laugh briefly. “I am certain he would be insulted to hear you call him that, your M-... Your Highness.”

She smiles and nods. “He will forgive my impertinence in due time. He’s going to be rich if this all pays off.”

Ecklevon sighs, but a smirk finds his lips. “Well, I’m with you until the end, your Highness. Even if I were to ignore his Majesty’s will, you carry yourself like someone who is going to win.”

“Of course I will,” replies Sundenelle confidently. “It has already been written.”

She walks past him, saying seriously, “Now then, we’re far from the edge of the dungeon as it stands. Your next mission is to scare the Princesses, and if she’ll go, the Senior Consort into fleeing the capital. Her family is a wealthy marquisate. If she leaves with her daughters, that will be one less fragile plate I’ll have to worry about in this ceramic shop.”

Ecklevon chuckles warmly. “I’m surprised you’re keeping your… uh… sisters alive.”

Sundenelle stops to look at him, giving him an incredulous glance. “And why is that? Blood or not, they are my sisters. And, in this particular game of wits, they are nothing more than fragile flowers on the window sill. My brothers are ordained by Imperial law, assuming they had a drop of the Emperor’s blood in their veins. Were the legitimate heirs to be extinguished, they would continue to be the next in line, after their father.” She grins wickedly. “Uncle has underestimated his unstable little niece.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Are… you prepared…?”

“If you mean to ask if I am capable of claiming the lives of my Uncle and brothers… I will do everything in my power to keep them all alive. However, I shall not let the Empire crumble because I wasn’t strong enough to do all that it takes to protect it. If I have to stab you in the heart, Sir Ecklevon, you better take it like a man, if you truly support the Empire.”

He laughs. “Your Highness, I am sincerely hoping it doesn’t come to that. That said, I ask you to only give me the chance to eliminate your enemies first. If I still must be stabbed, I’d like it to be in a time of peace.”

She grins and laughs as well. “You just might be standing next to me on the other side of this mess, Sir Ecklevon.” She softens her expression, adding gently, “I truly hope that is the case.”

Ecklevon stands quietly and respectfully for a long moment.

She regains her usual composure, saying, “Now, make sure the rest of today goes smoothly. I’ve lost Mother for my plans, but that doesn’t mean we’ve lost.”

“As you wish, your Highness.” Ecklevon bows and diverges from Sundenelle’s path. After all, she has to intercept the knights who will come looking for Thermihk and convince them that he fled after seemingly poisoning Byleathea.

Hmm… Perhaps Mother saved me some trouble. It would have been more difficult to make the guards divide their forces. I didn’t want her to be in danger, but this will be easier to deal with.

Sundenelle sighs to herself. I’m a dreadful woman, aren’t I? Father’s funeral hasn’t even been held yet, but if I let my brothers lock in their positions, it’ll be impossible to oust them.

Please forgive me, Father. I will honor you and Mother greatly when it’s all said and done.

Sure enough, the guards come looking for the Prince, and she screams at them like a wild-woman, since her mother is, in fact, in bed after being poisoned.

Thankfully, Thermihk is already out of the annex. As long as Sundenelle’s men stay ahead of the Imperial Guards serving the princes, she’s in the clear. And, they’ll be forced to chase after phantoms while he’s smuggled out of the Imperial Palace, believing the Prince fled in an absence of other evidence, since the physician has confirmed that Byleathea has, in fact, been poisoned.

That doesn’t stop the guards from searching the annex thoroughly, with Sundenelle protesting the whole while, since her mother is the victim. The guards threaten to arrest her if she gets in the way, which she protests angrily that she is a Princess.

The mistake made is when one of the guards scoffs. She makes a note of his face and pays attention, even amidst her tantrum, for his name. Illegitimate on paper or not, Sundenelle is known to be the daughter of the Emperor, and his favorite by all appearances. If his death was all it took for order to decay in the palace, she has a large cleanup operation in store next.

Thankfully, the pieces are coming together. She has a narrow window starting later this very day, as the news company is going to distribute the news papers in the afternoon, allowing dinner gossip to explode about the whole revelations before they reach the Imperial Family at the Imperial Funeral scheduled for the next morning.

Sundenelle is ashamed that she has to, but her Father wouldn’t want an event of any kind to stand in the way of protecting the Empire, so long as the spirit of the event is restored at another time.

***

King Vubenclef walks in disguise through the Imperial Capital, having left his retinue in order to see what the gossip in town is. He has come to the seat of the Empire’s power in order to attend the funeral for a good friend. He has a handful of guards following closely, but they are careful not to draw attention to the fact that he’s present or of high status.

The loss of the Emperor is a massive blow to the Empire, and the heir apparent, Prince Porfaus, has never been one to impress the vassal king. Jaalsun forged alliances on the eastern part of the continent, conquered those who tried to rebel, and kept the demons from invading from the west for decades. When Vubenclef’s kingdom was on the verge of collapse, the Imperial Uniter didn’t hesitate to bring about relief and aid with rooting out rotten elements.

An irony, that, scoffs the aging man to himself. Perhaps a view from outside gives greater perspective. Regardless, I wonder if the Empire will survive.

As he walks the streets, many people are wearing mourning bands at the least; a simple black fabric scarf tied onto their arm or around their collars. Others are wearing black garments, if they have them, and the tone lingering over the Imperial Capital is dreary, though for most, life has continued on.

A young voice catches Vubenclef’s attention from a corner of the street nearby. “... details on the Imperial Funeral! Exclusive report inside! Stay on top of the biggest story in the Capital!”

At first, he has no intention of paying the news crier any real mind. After all, it’s the young boy’s job to sell papers. And, it’s no surprise to anyone that the Emperor has passed away. Likely, all of the inns are full of nobles and their staff who, like Vubenclef, have come to pay their respects to the Imperial Family.

Just as he’s about to brush it off, though, the crier calls out, “The Emperor’s Will has been found! See it here first! You won’t believe what you read!”

The vassal king glances over his shoulder at his knight captain, who shrugs his shoulders subtly.

His curiosity piqued, Vubenclef approaches the boy, who finishes a sale just before him.

“I’ll take one, boy.”

“Thank you kindly, Sir! That’ll be one strysil (A/N 1).”

“A whole strysil?” asks the surprised gentleman.

“Yes, sir! This is the largest paper we ever printed!” He hears it in the child’s voice at that moment, but he understands and doesn’t care for the deception taking place. She’s a hardworking young lady, and it’s probably safer for her to be selling papers as a boy than a girl.

Instead, Vubenclef studies the veritable packet of paper bound together, and the crier is right. It’s absolutely an impressive collection of papers that could easily be mistaken for the whole collection of individual reports, rather than one paper full of various stories.

The girl disguised as a boy explains as she receives the coin from Vubenclef, “Eighday’s paper is always the biggest, but this one has tons more. I guarantee you’ll be impressed, Mister!”

Vubenclef smiles and tousles the child’s hat. “If I’m not, can I come back for a refund?”

“Hah! No way, Mister! All sales are final!”

He laughs, tucking his paper under his arm. “Very well. Take care, boy.”

“Thanks! You too!”

Vubenclef heads to a cafe nearby while the girl resumes crying out to sell her papers. With the funeral coming tomorrow morning, he has time to see what the air is, and since the paper is so full of information, it may suit his needs. City newspapers can go either way, since some will sensationalize information or print outright lies, since gossip is gossip. However, every now and then, there is a diamond in the sea of stones.

His knight captain sits down across from him, greeting him. “Sir Ben.”

“The Empire’s printing method continues to impress me. Do we know how it works?”

“To my knowledge, wooden plates etched with magic are used to stamp the pages. It’s how they’ve been able to make copies of books with such ease.”

“Truly fascinating. And, you say these images aren’t hand-drawn?”

“To my knowledge, no. Why?”

“Well, the second page has the Imperial seal, and it’s quite…”

Vubenclef trails off as he reaches the most notable line of the paper. He doesn’t particularly doubt the authenticity of the Imperial Seal, since the announcement of the funeral also has it on the first page. However, this seal also has a signature.

That of the late sovereign.

The piece of information that halted Vubenclef, and which causes his knight to ask, “Your… Sir Ben? What is it?”

Vubenclef hands over the paper, and the man reads it briefly. His own expression soon turns pale, and he looks at his king with horror painted across his face.

“Will she really become Empress?” stands out to both of them from one of the other groups of diners nearby, and they both can’t help but listen a little more closely.

“It is the Emperor’s will, and if what the Emperor says is true, then there is only one choice, no?”

“There’s no way this is true.”

“The Klommen Writer’s Firm is well known for their integrity. There’s no way they printed such things without verifying them.”

“But, to be the Emperor’s only child? How would anyone know?”

Vubenclef’s knight whispers, “Your Majesty… If this is all true…”

The vassal king stares distantly at the paper. The only person who stands to gain from such information getting out is Sundenelle herself. The problem is, she would have to be mad to go about it by releasing it to the public when the Empire at large recognizes Prince Porfaus as the Crown Prince.

“If it’s true, the Capital is going to turn to chaos.”

“What do we do?” asks the knight.

Vubenclef leans back in his seat, thinking for a moment. Time is of the essence, no matter what choice he makes. It’s no secret that Jaalsun passed long before he hoped to, and obviously had many affairs to clean up before he wished to relinquish the crown. Now, without warning, a claim that Sundenelle is the one and only true heir of the Emperor arises right after he passes away. And, she’s the bastard princess of a woman who wasn’t even a consort.

Some of the rumors and gossip in the cafe seem to agree with him.

Vubenclef stands up, and his knight joins him. The undercover king takes the paper, and he quietly instructs, “Regroup everyone. We’re returning to the kingdom.”

“Sir?” asks the rightfully confused knight.

“Tomorrow is going to be a travesty. However, it will be the next few weeks that determine the fate of the Empire.”

He pays for the drinks they received, adding quietly, “We need to be prepared to strike.”

The two leave the cafe, a heavy air of tension starting to be felt over the entirety of the capital.

If the Imperial Family isn’t aware yet, it’s likely the funeral will not proceed as planned as soon as they learn of it.

***

“HOW!?” shrieks the Empress as she flings her tea table to the floor, shattering the ceramicware and spilling tea and pastries across the floor as her maids yelp and flinch. “How is this possible!?”

Prince Porfaus shouts, “I don’t know! One of the manservants brought the paper to me as soon as he found out. It’s obviously a lie! I am the Crown Prince!”

The Empress twitches, but she quickly agrees. “Yes, that’s true. We’ll have to find out who printed this slander and…” She notices the title of the newspaper company on the cover page, and she can’t help but tense again.

The paper organization that ran the story claiming to have the Emperor’s will is one with a high level of integrity. Even the Empress’s own family has attempted to bribe the owner to suppress stories that affect branch families and the businesses that keep money flowing into the family’s coffers.

“Where is that little wench now?”

“No one has seen her since she accused Thermihk of poisoning her mother.”

“Byleathea has been poisoned!?” snaps the Empress. “Why am I only hearing these things now!?”

“I’m just as far behind as you are, Mother! We’re rounding up everyone we can find, but no one seems to know where she would have gone. Even her hag mother has disappeared.”

The Empress clenches her teeth tightly, nearly drawing blood. The will alone destroys everything, but the newspaper has dozens of other pieces of information. As Porfaus pages through, he states urgently, “We need to figure out the sources of her information, and how she got them to the paper company. I…”

He suddenly halts as he’s paging through, and the Empress looks at him. “What is it?”

“This… I…” He looks at her, his face as white as a cloud. “Mother… D-... Do I… have children?”

“What!?” snaps the Empress. She rushes close and shoves him out of the way, gripping the infuriating paper as she reads it. Right off the bat, there is a stenciled image of 5 women and their respective children, as well as an explanation of Porfaus having neglected his duties as a man and a father, having paid off the women to hide their children.

“Mother…”

“These are obviously lies!” snaps the woman. She impulsively throws the entire packet of papers into the fire, erasing them quickly as she claws at her hair. “This is impossible! I’ll kill that wench!”

Porfaus remains quiet for a moment, while the Empress whirls on her maids. “Find the Grand Duke IMMEDIATELY! Summon him to my drawing room, or I’ll have your heads!”

“Y-Y-Yes your Majesty!” cry the maids, bolting out of the room as quickly as they can manage. “Summon all of the guards and comb the entire capital. That cur is hiding somewhere. We’ll drag her through the streets and flense her for spreading such slander.” Her nails are digging into her hands, drawing blood.

When she realizes she hasn’t gotten a response, she looks at her son. “Did you have something to say?” snarls the enraged woman.

Porfaus looks at her face, and then her hands, which are now dripping blood. “I’ll send for the physician to check on you, Mother.”

She lunges to him, gripping his collar. “Everything we have built, the entire Empire, is under threat from that woman. You must find her and prevent her from spreading any more of these lies.”

She releases him, pacing angrily around. “We’ll need to shut down that company and prevent them from spreading any more of these rags. Guards!”

“Your Majesty,” replies one of the knights as he steps in.

“Round up the rest of the Imperial guards and order them to arrest anyone selling or reading today’s Klommen Writer’s Firm papers. Anyone who speaks of it shall be arrested and tried for treason.”

“Mother…” cautions Porfaus.

She snap-reacts and smacks him across the face, leaving streaks of blood as he flinches from the strike.

“Say anything other than ‘yes, your Majesty,’ and I will put your younger brother on the throne.”

Porfaus hesitates, but he replies quietly, “Yes, your Majesty.”

She grips his collar and throws him in a stumble towards the door. “Now, go! Prove you are the Emperor’s true heir!”

Porfaus leaves, though he has a great deal of doubts that have started to grow, and their place in his heart hasn’t subsided in the least.

For the Empress’s part, she supports her weight on the mantle over the fireplace, trying to regain her composure. She needs her wits about her to deal with this mess that the unruly outsider that the Emperor spoiled rotten caused.

However, every hour that goes by into the evening and night crawls painfully slowly, and there’s still no news of the whereabouts of Sundenelle, Byleathea, or even Thermihk.

The Grand Duke visits her to try to calm her down, but she can’t look at him right now. All she wants is for the problems to go away, and the rumors are getting worse.

Little does she know, her decisions to try to suppress the news article have played right into her greatest enemy’s hands.

***

A/N 1: Strysil is a middle-denomination silver coin of the Empire, which is the Imperial name for a 100 valden coin.