She removed the garb of Empress and settled into the robes of equal majesty but comfort. No heavy weight on her head or on her shoulders. Her feet walked barefoot across the stained stone.
There were few places in the palace where Shlaweya could find peace of mind, but in her main sanctuary, there was a mid-sized dining hall, library, kitchen with little cooking staff except for the cleaners, four bedrooms, a majlis, and a cool pool built with the aqueducts of her ancestors.
This place, at one point, was her own. It was the home where she trained as Crown Princess under the pressures and squeezing fists of the former Ougadou, who controlled her from a very young age. But even earlier, it was the home gifted to her for her new marriage.
A marriage that never came to be.
She was, in many ways, the last of her bloodline. Her parents never trained in the ways of ruling and were mere pieces in a game of political power. The name she wore now, Molokhiyya, was the name of her ancestors long, long ago—so far long ago that most couldn't remember how.
Her original family name was Agbani.
And when she was Shlaweya Agbani, a simple woman, with ties to nobility but none so thick to require anything of her, she was to be married to Lakshmi, Sulabha of Madurai.
Now, she wondered what life could have been like in this place. She wandered the kitchens and imagined Malika and Lakshmi fighting over who made the best omi osan.
Was it better sweet or spicy?
She imagined years after their marriage that Malika would return to visit and let them know he was pregnant. It would be known far and wide that their marriage was as happy as Akhutenan had described it.
Hearing the glee in his voice as he rattled off the names he thought up of to name her grandchild. She imagined that rascal Leonard French, the foreigner, whom she remembered well in his soldier days, to be a thorn in her side but willing to stalemate when it came to Malika's needs.
So many things had been missed.
And she had done that very same thing to her beloved consort--out of spite. How could he look at her in any way but disgust?
The sounds of boots and sandals came from the entrance as she sat cross-legged on the cushions of the majlis. Incense filled the room with the soothing scent of citrus fruits.
Guards let both Kinya of the Sarakhs and Thabatani El Mahdy into the room, where they awkwardly settled in. Their shoulders hunched like those expecting punishment and execution.
Had their plot not worked, they would've met such an end already.
"You are both in contact with the Mawaddah Clan, yes?"
"Your Highness."
"There was never--"
She raised her hand and silenced them before she exhaled sharply, "Tell me what they want."
Thabatani shared a look with Kinya before she said, "I am not in contact with them at all, your Highness. My work was solely to--"
Shlaweya had never seen the elder woman tongue-tied. She laughed at the contrite expression, and then filled in the blanks for the woman, "I was burning through the wick of your family with a vengeance for half your life. Yet, you and I both know that your family was never innocent in such a way. I have no guilt!"
Her fists slammed into the cushion beside her and although it lacked a proper sound, the elder woman winced.
The Empress had to breathe carefully and inhaled the soothing incense again.
"So, imagine my surprise when, in my mercy, I allowed you, the last of your clan, to live to this day. Only for you to repeat the coarse manipulations and twisting tendencies that I thought was burnt out of your family. Perhaps, I held too much mercy?"
"Your Highness, this was done for you and only for you." Thabatani bowed her head to the stone flooring. "I saw that in a second of anger, your great family would be ripped apart by jealousy and vengeance. So, I hoped in your mercy that I could repay such a gift by preventing it."
Shlaweya scoffed and then turned to her scribe, whose lowered head but lack of tension irked her. She said to him, "And you? I can excuse Thabatani with a light punishment, but you. Most of these events have your handprints all over them, even the Prince. I argue, especially with the Prince. What should be done with you? Dabbling in things that you have no business in."
She saw the two share a look again and then huffed. "The two of you can stop that, whatever that is. You don't have much time before my patience runs out and I end this entire mess by executing you both."
"Your grace and compassion are welcomed," Kinya said politely as he bowed his head to the stone flooring. "But I must add that anything I do is always within the realm of your orders. I am your servant. And your servant will find what is needed no matter how, when, or what such a thing requires."
"Raise your head, both of you," She snapped and then read their faces for what they were. "If you are my servant, then, what are you to the Mawaddah clan?"
"Indebted. A debtee who knows who their debtor is."
"And so you repay them by being my humble servant," the Empress stated sarcastically. "I do enjoy convenience."
"Empress, if I may," Kinya cleared his throat and kept his head lowered as he spoke. "The Mawaddah clan relies on a thorough network of information and trade. Peace is how they maintain their isolation and wealth. What you call convenience is naturally the state of business and the state of an Empire intertwined. "
Although the words almost made sense, she knew something wasn't right about this, but the pressure in her temple reminded her that now was not the time to press. If the Mawaddah clan wanted to use her, then she would use them the same in turn.
"Commander Rasoya has left behind an omega, one who has just given birth," she said and sighed. "The poor thing cannot be left alone and will only be a political gaming piece. I can't see him surviving out in this land alone. I will write up a marriage of convenience between you two. And you will be his future caretaker and spouse. Let any children born of your union take the Mawaddah name. I send this as a gift to your new spouse, and congratulations on your new marriage and heirs."
Thabatani nearly broke forward if it wasn't for Kinya's arm. The El Mahdy matriarch gritted her teeth but thanked the Empress.
"You may leave and feel relieved that there is no further punishment," Shlaweya added. "I think this will be punishment enough."
The elder matriarch bowed low to the ground before marching out the door.
Shlaweya waited until the footsteps went silent before saying, "Bring in the plates and drinks!" There was a bit of shuffling outside as the curtained doors slid open, and servants brought in hot drinks, cold drinks, fruits, and small appetizers. "I've been hungry the entire day. It took many hours to bring servants and guards from the palace."
"Are you not worried?"
"Of what?" She said, presenting a warning in her voice. Her hands grabbed the cup of umi osan and sipped deeply, tasting the sweetness with its spice. "There is no one to stab me in the back when those nearest to me are liars and deceivers. Would I not be dead already if they wanted me to?"
Kinya pursed his lips and then paused.
"You, too, have nothing to say."
"It isn't that I have nothing to say, your Highness," Kinya paused again. "I think that my status prevents me from ever reaching a height that could injure you so severely."
"And Akhutenan's existence isn't such a threat."
"No, your Highness."
She knew that for a day she could sit in the muddling nature of her mind but tomorrow she would have to deal with the ramifications of Akhutenan's existence.
"Write Xiaotzi and Hu'en into the family registry, formally, but as adopted royals, never official bloodlines."
"Of course," Kinya cautiously smiled. "Your Highness."
"But I want them to have a naming ceremony. I'll send you the names in a fortnight. You are now dismissed before my mood worsens. And greet the others to go in after."
Kinya's brittle smile stood still even as he stood up. He bowed deeply and, for most, irreverently. But she had known him for many years now. There was a hesitance and caution in his every movement.
She had frightened him with this grand meal--like one off to their execution. The scribe skittered out like the fluttering wasp he was, and she sat there a moment before tasting a sugary dessert imported from the Carolingian Empire. And thought Malika must've also enjoyed such a grand meal, at least once, hopefully, for his wedding.
The guards brought in a man in a hooded cloak over a foreign-shaped tunic and bottom robe with wrappings wound around his legs and a black cloth over his mouth to his chin. But even through the fabric, she could see the evil, contorted grin of the man.
"You found her?"
"Under the Emperor's orders, no less." The man's voice was thick with the accent of the Jiaozhi people.
"Let the Empires know what that great and wise Carolingian Emperor is capable of--even to his own blood."
"And what shall I do with her?"
"Whatever you want," Empress Shlaweya tilts her head and motions him to stand at the wall. "Consider it one of the many gifts I offer in return for your good work."
"Many thanks, but may I ask what other rewards?"
The Empress merely smiled.
Guards opened the curtained doors to allow the Jiaozhi representative, Ambassador Candise Chen, to walk in, then bow in greeting before sitting before them.
"Eat, please," the Empress waves her hand over the food and then begins to eat. "I hear there's good news in the Jiaozhi Empire."
"Our Crown Prince is getting married," the Ambassador touted before clearing her throat. "It's a grand occasion. He's even got a consort to be married into the family."
"I heard," the Empress returned before lifting a golden crystal goblet and drinking it all. "You wish to give your position to someone more worthy?"
"Yes--I--well, my husband is bored with our housing here. And I came here with the intent of stabbing my cousin or uncle, I can't tell how we're related anymore, in the back. By giving you all their information, they keep secret. I believe, as well, you have already been told this in our last discussion. Your Highness."
There was a long pause as the Empress swigged another goblet down.
"You want to stay the Ambassador, don't you?"
"I do."
"Then, I want you to keep the Jiaozhi Empire out of the Campgrounds business. If you can do that for the next few years, you'll have what you want. If not, well, I'll find a way to deal with you."
A nervous laugh escaped the Ambassador as she bit into a piece of flatbread. "Is that all?"
"No--" the Empress motions towards the man in the black cloak, who tosses her a hard cotton bag. She slides it to the Ambassador. "I need you to poison the matriarch of El Mahdy for me."
"Oh, excuse me, your Highness," the Ambassador coughs. "I thought she was one of your greatest allies."
"The bloodline of the El Mahdy is," the Empress said pointedly and leaned back with a sigh. "But it appears I will have to lift them up from their roots instead of just their stems."
"And afterwards?"
"I'll make sure my people know that the situation is handled. You won't be responsible."
"I understand." The Ambassador said with a laugh. "I am blessed to be in the presence of a true Imperial leader. But, may I ask who this quiet figure in the corner is?"
"Ah, this man," the Empress nods at the man in the black cloak. "He's the one in charge of the black market dealings we have in and out of the Empire. Something you are ordered to ignore entirely."
"Oh, well," the Ambassador drops her gaze as if suddenly aware of the hooded viper-like gaze of the man. "He seems trustworthy."
"He's not, but, he is most certainly reliable. Don't let me down, Candise."
Shlaweya had a few more private meetings and dealings with political figures, outside the earshot of both her allies and enemies. When it was all said and done, she ordered the mostly emptied plates to be removed.
"You haven't told me my reward, your Highness," the man in the black cloak said from his corner. "I have no expectations or need for more."
The Empress laughed and then wagged her finger at him. "Your reward is the Ambassador's wife if, and only if, Candise fails in her attempt at murder."
"It sounds like you never wanted the woman dead," the man countered with a grin, seen through the fabric. "You know I've wanted Yú Yīng as my husband for many years now."
"Were I not Empress," Shlaweya said thoughtfully. "I would consider her a friend. But things are not so. Perhaps I wish to give her an extra ledge to pull herself up on. The shipment should be complete by now. Review the orders and transfer them to Sylas. He seems to be the only one of marriageable children who can do a good job."
"I consider myself dismissed then, your Highness." and the cloaked man slowly stepped out of the room with a snap of the curtain swinging at his exit.
She stood and shuffled her sleeves around comfortably as she found herself outside wearing the simple weaved sandals of a laborer, like she wore in her youth.
The stars sparkled over the pool like a sparkling sea of diamonds. Her hands trailed against the waters and she knew that time was clicking ever closer to the moment where she would have to act properly in relation to Akhutenan's existence.
Perhaps, if she found more productive things to do, she could forget it altogether. With all the training and battle scars won through making such mistakes, it was an unlikely dream.
Such a thing couldn't be realized when she sat in the home of her former ambitions and dreams, reminding her of what happened when failure struck.
Her hands patted the cold stone walls in reminder that this place existed not for nostalgia's sake but for eating up like a carcass. A skeleton that would sit for ages, only remembered by one's imagined designs of its former flesh and sinew that sticking to its bones.
And she would have to be the last to remember such a thing for this sort of skeleton.
This was what a true monarch endeavored to be.
A wolf who ravaged a carcass until there was nothing else to be eaten and no one could recognize it but the one who devoured it.
"You're sure you don't want Berman's old bed?"
The bench closest to the old herbal, alchemist hut was remote enough that they could speak in earnest.
The Prince laughed. "I have never wanted anything less. You might as well throw all his things out. And I still wouldn't sleep in there."
It was now late in the night, the Captain, and their new Commander had already had a meeting with the rest of the military on what had happened with former Commander Berman, including his list of transgressions. Berman had been an asshole with no manners so it was no surprise that Akhutenan, who was popular and well-liked by far, was congratulated for his new appointment.
"We were supposed to tour the empire to check for rebellion, inner strife, and a stockpiling of weapons," Enzo said thoughtfully. "We'll have to wait before sending out Berman, setting up for a new Commander induction ceremony with other important military titles, and in planning for your return to the Empire. It's a bit convenient for the Empress that she used Akhutenan now."
"The Commander said the Empress was surprised by this," the Prince added. "So much so that she nearly began to cry."
"I call bullshit," Enzo retorted and then sat his chin on his closed fist as he thought out loud. "Before I joined it was known that the French's eldest heir had the name of a former king, in a former dynasty. Even worse, he wore his beard like one and carried the statuesque face of one. All those soldiers fawning over the Commander now are the same ones who used to spit on his boots in his early recruit days. They treated him like a pariah. Only my brother and General Orellano treated him kindly."
"Do you feel that he betrayed your brother?" Jonathon said carefully, watching as Enzo's eyes gazed up at the stars as if they had offended him greatly before shuffling down to the sandy dirt flooring. "Roy is the more experienced one out of the Captains. In typical circumstances, he would be the Commander now."
Enzo scowled. "It's not betrayal but an obvious abuse of power. Roy hates that shit but he also knows it's for the greater good."
"You believe it's for a worthy sacrifice, then?"
"I believe there's still another opening for the Commander and that my brother will be given that. And that there's no use fighting over spilled milk."
Dust kicked up into the air, then, with shouting and scuffling. Jonathon could tell someone had slid into the area and grabbed beside him, where Enzo was. He swung wildly in the dust that he couldn't see through until his fist met meat and he heard a distinct crack as the dust settled.
Enzo was lightly bruised on the ground with his uniform ruffled in the fight but this young soldier just stood there, heaving angrily, glaring with a dribble of blood falling down the side of his swollen lip.
He wasn't sure he even recognized the young man.
"How could you do this to my family?" the other soldier hissed before wiping the dribble of blood off his face. He spat at the ground, painting it red. "He's the reason we were able to get into the army at all. Without him, you wouldn't even be here to do any of this! Especially him!"
Jonathon caught a particular tone in the edges of his voice and throughout all the heaving, the glaring, the twisting lips--it was jealousy. He glanced down at Enzo's strewn form and troubled expression and felt that very same wave overwhelm him.
He was no longer looking at him, the Prince, but at this soldier in a dedicated, powerful way. He had heard so much about Berman's son and how close he was to Enzo but never saw it personally. Always proper, he put out his hand and smiled. "Pleasure to meet you, you may call me Jonathon. No need to add the rest."
The soldier slapped his hand away.
"I know who you are," he hissed. "And had my father succeeded, you would continue to be nothing but dirt in the ground."
Those unkind words flashed in Enzo's eyes and the other soldier jumped up, shoving Beckett jr. away from the two of them. Briefly, Enzo drew his eyes on him but was well-concerned with the other soldier.
Jonathon felt an angry shiver push through his veins before he brushed his hand through his hair and smiled through it.
He didn't like this.
Not one bit.