She had caught Arechin Ravenswood staring at her. His cerulean eyes had narrowed on her form as they always had. She had flicked off her hood, and grinned at him—the bruise on her eye completely healed. It was then that he had walked away from the balcony in an angry stride.
Now she sat across from him in the Council Room. Twelve tall statues rose upto the tall ceiling which arched into a painted-glass dome. Sunlight poured right into the center of the room, illuminating the Magic Formation that had been painted on the stone floor. This room was as ancient as Eltar himself. Magic had been banished four hundred years ago but Formations that had been drawn centuries ago still lingered. They served various purposes: protection, healing, restoration, and so on. When moonlight fell upon this particular formation the cauldrons of the room would hold fire, providing light. This was perhaps the last formation that remained in the castle.
Twelve wooden chairs were arranged before the statues. Twelve statues, twelve constellations, twelve members of the Emperor's inner circle. The constellations were the ruling gods of the Western Continent and she sat before Uraz, the God of Fortune.
The grandest cathedral was left unoccupied. The Emperor had been on his deathbed for months, and no one except for this Circle knew.
"The corpses were unsettling to look at." Aerin, the Lady of Aristole stated.
"Indeed, my lady." Lord Basilius—the minister of finance—replied firmly. "I heard they were sent to the morgue for further investigation. Have we received any reports?"
"Not yet." Abraham Reaper continued, "However, from my observations I infer that this is some sort of a creature we have yet to come across." A deadly one at that. "Their bodies were found dismantled. Some of their eyes had been gouged out and some of their organs had been missing. What was most unusual though, was the substance found at the site. Nearly black, adhesive and pungent." She scrunched her nose in memory of the smell. When she had won a battle and a hundred impaled corpses lay before her, she would be greeted with the same smell.
"We must hunt it down immediately." Serria looked towards Faith, an order on her tongue. Faith acknowledged her glance, nodding slightly.
She would see the creature dead and gone.
"And what of His Majesty's absence from the festivites?" Lord Noel of Aristotle questioned.
"We have decided to declare that he has left to deal with the barbarians of Arlin." Prince Kaien answered.
"All this seems too tedious." Duke Raphael declared.
"I agree." Princess Serria responded. "We should allow the people of Eltarin the right to truth."
"Nonsense, Serria." Kaien leaned forward. None spark more disagreement than this pair. Allow them to completely transform this meeting into a war. "This is not the right time."
"I agree with His Highness."
More proposals and arguments. Faith was an observer rather. She did not indulge—most of the time, her sword spoke for her.
"I hold to keep His Majesty's illness in the dark." Arechin responded. When he spoke, the rest of the Council was accustomed to shut it. His fingers were interlaced and his long legs crossed. His dark hair made his face look much paler than it was. "The recent tensions with the Kingdom of Isleen have given us no choice. If word were to reach the masses regarding the Emperor's current state, then it would expose the vulnerability of the Centre. We could find ourselves amidst a civil war with rebels. Moreover, the kingdoms which have been brought under our rule over the past few decades are also prone to attack. Not to mention the advantage we would be giving Isleen. Isn't that correct, General?"
Abraham's lips tugged up in a hint of a smile. He was young, only thirty seven. And he had an attractive face that looked even better when he smiled. Faith wondered where she would've been if he hadn't taken her in seventeen years ago, when her own mother had abandoned her when she was only an infant.
"You are right, my Lord." One could say that Abraham was a sort of a father figure to Arechin. He had trained and honed the boy into the warrior he was now. And he was the only person whose approval Arechin sought.
The Council Room grew quiet for a while. There was no further argument on this matter.
"And when the Emperor is dead." Lord Basillius was the first to bring up this matter. "What then?" The tension in the air thickened. Faith's loyalty always lay with Princess Serria, but she knew that conflicts arising from matters of succession would always end with bloodshed.
"Has His Majesty decided upon his successor?"
"I suppose not."
"The coronation must take place before the Emperor's. . .death." The duke sighed. "A new Emperor must be appointed before the death of the sitting Emperor." The throne must not be left empty.
"If it were to come to that," Faith spoke, her words heavily weighted, "we must hope that the Emperor should make the right choice."
Her gaze lay on Princess Serria.
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Faith encountered Arechin—joined by his guard— in the castle corridors outside the Council Room. Smaller circles for discussion had been formed outside.
"You didn't speak much today." He said, running a hand down his black doublet.
"My final blow wasn't enough for you?" She added sweetly, "Your Highness." He scoffed.
"Your eye has healed well."
"I wish I could say the same about your abdomen." He flinched, and she knew he could feel that pain in his abdomen.
"I want to kill you." He said, frankly.
"Try me." She wasn't known as the Daughter of Death without a good reason.
"Before it comes to that," Abraham interrupted, "Care to join me for a hunt, Your Highness? I suppose we have much to discuss." He would rather hunt with him than his own daughter! Faith let out a noise of annoyance.
But Abraham drew the Prince closer by his collar, and in a low voice such that only the three of them could hear, "And careful, Your Highness." He said, "She is my daughter.