The Grand Cathedral of Bivon brimmed with people. Knights, nobles and commoners- they packed inside. Once a hundred and fifteen fanatic knights died for Tobias inside the white marble walls of the Cathedral. Once blood flowed against the blue tiled floor. It was sacrilege for a place of worship to be tainted with such a thing.
But that was all in the past now. Now an ode to the Omniscient was being sung inside as praise for the end of the civil war. Through the Omniscient's mercy, Tulosa was again at peace. Henry looked at Erik and Emily both seated in line with him. And through their help and wise decisions, he thought, the Omniscient's mercy materialized.
"Will you stay here?" Freya asked, leaning closer to him.
"Of course. Tulosa is still broken. The Queen and I will fix it" He secretly held her hand, maybe not so secret as they can be seen by everybody "And you? Will you stay?"
"Timothy gave me and the rest of the diplomatic party a month to finish our work here. Discussions about alliance and trade, probably including shared borders will be ratified the soonest. I will have to leave after that"
"Oh, I see" Henry's neck slumped. Although he knew it already, it still pained him that he and Freya would be separated once more. He is tied to his position and she has a home in Solon.
"But last night…" Freya suddenly said "I kept wondering. If I leave, then who will take care of you? What if you get sick? What if you have a nightmare? What if you get hungry? I don't even want to imagine you getting thin and sickly"
"The Omniscient shall give me strength" Henry blurted but soon realized the meaning behind what she said. He looked at her and she was already pouting. "You will remain?"
"Do you want me to?"
Henry's jaw dropped a little before forming a sincere smile. He gripped her hand firmer "Of course. Please. I want you to meet my mother and my sister. Please remain. I will do my best to make you happy, the best of my abilities. Stay with me. We will have a home in the city or in a small town or anywhere you want. We will be together from now on. So please stay here with me"
"Silly" Freya leaned her head on his shoulder, sticky stares from the knights fell on them "Of course I will stay. I have already made up my mind"
"Really?" Henry didn't wait for an answer and put a kiss on her forehead. Everybody could see them but he didn't care. All he cared about was Freya and the future he is going to build with her.
**********
Emily was amused looking at Freya and Henry. They are blessed with happiness, she thought. She, on the other hand, still has a whole kingdom to patch. She needed to find a balance between the nobles and the serfs, she had to mend the situation of the believers of the Great Rider in the ghetto- perhaps there shouldn't be a ghetto anyway. Of course after uniting under one banner, the tribes in the west were again back at each other's throats. Although Priestess Seymore and Earl Kolla were trying to solve the feuds in the west, Emily doesn't think the tribes would be at peace with each other. Perhaps in a few generations they will be. The important thing is that they have united once and they could do it again. They were Tulosans as much as she was. There was also this thing with Lutan. Although they still deny their involvement with Balian, it was an open secret that the pirate ships were actually theirs.
But for the time being, she wanted to rest. The ode had a nice melody to it. It was as if she was being lifted into the heavens. She looked towards Erik. He wasn't wearing the chain on his chest that signified his position as a Marquis. When asked, Erik told her that it was heavy and he had always disliked the thing.
"When will you leave?" She asked with lowered voice.
"Am I not welcome here anymore?" Erik raised an eyebrow and then smiled "Three days. I shall permit my men some rest and the atmosphere of celebration still lingers. But fear not, my men are tamed. They wouldn't cause troubles in taverns and drinking houses and brothels. If they did that, they will answer to me. But I shall leave a thousand of my men here just in case you need their help. Use them well"
"Should I thank you for that?" Emily grinned
"Of course you should thank me" Erik frowned.
"I'm jesting" Emily's grin turned to a smile "Thank you Erik. Thank you for everything you did. We may have our differences but at the end of the day we are of one purpose"
"You are scaring me. See? I'm shuddering. You are talking as if you are not a moody and frowning and broody Queen. But seriously…" Erik put his hand on her forehead and stretched it "Stop the frowns and smile more"
"I'll try" Emily said.
She then next turned to Commodore Bernard. His fluffy cheeks were clean shaven today. "And you? What are your plans?"
"Admiral Bisham recalled me to Hydas. But fear not my lovely Queen, I shall send you letters of affection. Although I prefer I would have died in that battle to cinch that afterlife marriage you promised"
"I did not promise anything" Emily said laughingly
"Still, I'm hoping. Perhaps I'm going to court you when I ascend to the rank of Admiral. A mere Commodore is too low of a rank for a Queen"
"That is a great motivation. Well Commodore, I bid you farewell and good luck in your path. May the Omniscient give you speed"
"Thank you. And once I become an Admiral, I will have a chance?"
"We shall wait and see Commodore" Emily said happily "We shall wait and see"
The ode reached its peak. The singer was pushing his vocal cords into the limits. As the ode rang inside her head, Emily suddenly met eyes with her father. Royal Guard Rain was standing on the side with his sword on his hips. His armor was fine and so was his stance.
They were estranged. Him being her blood was a secret known only to few. It would take time for her to forget his inaction, his indecisiveness. But wounds can be fixed with time. With him around though, she will be safe from all threats.
When the ode's final notes were being sung, Emily's eyes were on the rest of the people inside the cathedral. They were of different backgrounds. Some came from the ghetto. The others were knights. They all have one thing in common and that is them being Tulosans.
The civil war was over. It had been bloody and dark. But the end of one thing is the beginning of another. Things have just begun for her and her Tulosans.
**********
Heraldshome, Capital of Canton
The Scribbler's job was to scribble. With a quill, ink and parchment, the scribbler recorded the events that happened. This was the seventy-sixth parchment inked with history. His hand was moving- careful, delicate and free. Words on paper, words of truth, words of history, the scribbler wrote them all.
Others looked down on him. Mouth to feed but hands without blood, they mocked. They were correct. Strength had fled from his old bones a long time ago like a stupid youth who impregnated a girl from a single night of passion. But while others have their spears, he has his quill. Others bathe their hands in blood, he bathe his in ink.
What use is their glory anyway if it isn't recorded? A thousand victory is nothing if there was nobody to sing about it. Without scribblers like him, truth would soon fall into gossips and gossips into lies and lies into fables- until nothing remained. History is sacred. History is a tale and for that matter, he is an author of some kind.
The scribbler's hand danced, painting the letters into being. Today was a busy day. King Timothy won another, the seventeenth one in a row. The Queen had scored several more allies through complex bribery and coercion.
The scribbler finished his work with a period. He read the words for mistakes and blew on the wet ink after checking. With the parchment in hand he rose and walked towards the man staring at the map of Canton for a long time now.
"Your Majesty…" He said but was interrupted by the Queen.
"He's planning, don't break his concentration" Queen Lucia said, smiling. She took the parchment and read it. "Accurate enough. Pile this with the others"
With a bow the scribbler took the parchment again and walked towards his table. There were piles of paper, some of high quality while others were common. The parchment he was holding was of the former. He put the parchment on top of others inside a wooden box and closed it. On the cover of the box etched some more words. It read, 'History of the Spring Offensive'