THE NECKS

Kerina Protus rubbed her eyes as she directed attendants carrying goblets over to a table in the Ametisium’s grand ballroom. Her insomnia was catching up with her. She took a cup of black tea from her personal attendant Lina and drank deeply. She handed the empty cup back.

Igavik, give me strength, she thought to herself.

“Would you please get me another cup? I cannot seem to shake this drowsiness,” Kerina said, placing a hand to her forehead. Without a response, Lina bowed and walked off to fetch a third cup. 

For a single moment no one was asking anything of her, and Kerina found a seat on one of the low lying steps leading down into the sunken part - the Royal Stage - of the ballroom. How long had it been since she’d had a sound sleep? A few days? A week, maybe? Ever since she had returned with Dastan from Varav there had been a looming shadow over her. A chill crept up the back of her neck and Kerina slapped at it.

“Your Highness,” a voice said from behind her. The sound scared Kerina more than it should have, and she felt her slippered feet slide on the tiled floor as she stood. Steady yourself, she thought.

A line of men holding large vases with red and purple dahlias poking out the tops stood before her. Each vase was adorned with a different God, delicately designed in blues and golds. Paft, one of the event coordinators, stood looking up at her. His hair hung down the sides of his face in greens and whites. Kerina sometimes envied the Muti. They were always able to stay in style.

“Your Highness,” Paft said again, “Do you still want these along the back wall?” He unrolled a small page of parchment with notes on it.

“Oh,” Kerina said, holding in a yawn, “No no. Apologies if you didn’t receive my additional notes. Let’s place them down in the Royal Stage. Flank the corners with two each and bookend the King’s set with the ones depicting Igavik and Valmandus.” The look would be beautiful and strategic. This ball was to ensure the King still had control. The battle at Carmus had been less than desirable. Over half of Carmus’ population had died from the foolish release of the falshrikes, along with a major chunk of Jalg’s forces. So much for no bloodshed. However, Brinton Farnax had been taken into custody. 

At least it’s over.

Paft bowed and turned to his men, barking orders. Kerina moved off slowly to her husband’s private office at the back of the ballroom, moving around attendants setting up table linens and rolling out rugs. Reaching the room she shut the door behind her and poured a goblet of wine from a diamond decanter. She didn’t inspect the color. Normally, she preferred a crisp fruity wine from the Whirling Isles. Today, she put aside preference for performance. Any of them would calm her nerves, she hoped.

Kerina walked to the back of the room, to a painting of her husband next to a woman with black hair. Unconsciously, she ran her fingers through her own hair. The light brown strands were cut to her shoulders; another difference to the waist length hair of the woman depicted in the image. Kerina had always understood there had been wives before her. She knew the weight of her position as Queen would be met with unending scrutiny by those around her.

“Queen for now,” she said out loud to herself. She knew it was true. Dastan had an appetite for younger women, near fifty, and Kerina was close to eighty.

Young by most Reverent’s standards.

To anyone who wasn’t a Reverent, that was around forty-years-old. At any rate, she had taken her position in stride. She had become the point of contact for all letters to the King, a warden of their home in Vanavallar, and a surrogate mother to his first two children. It had taken some time, but Set and Rumali had eventually let her in. Kerina planned the balls, the hunts, and ensured all visiting royalty were well taken care of. She met with their constituents and heard complaints, pleas, and wants alike. Kerina was surprised she was able to stand at all. And yet, she loved it. 

She hadn’t joined Sabine’s crusade because she was just hoping to get rid of the Council. She had joined because she loved her husband immensely. Dastan was a good man who she had come to love openly and honestly, even if the worry of being replaced lingered in the corners of her mind. He deserved to sit on the throne for life, even if he made some mistakes. She’d devoted herself to him and his rule, and this plan saw that lengthen tenfold. Kerina touched the foot of the woman in the painting, her arm extended out over a small hearth. 

 

“Rumali’s mother is strikingly beautiful,” she said to herself.

 

“She was,” said a voice from behind her. Unlike the voice of Paft, the deep baritone of her husband did not make her jump. “She was a musician at her core. She would play the violin for Rumali nearly every day.” She watched Dastan’s gaze hover on the painting like he was reliving a memory.

 

“Why did you divorce? We never speak about your previous wives.”

 

“You know I don’t like discussing it,” Dastan said, his eyes glassy. 

 

Maybe it is the candlelight, Kerina thought. Without understanding what made his previous marriages fail, she was unsure of how to avoid it herself. 

 

“The ballroom is nearly ready,” she said instead of pushing again. Kerina chose every word carefully with her husband. Not that she was afraid of him. He was a loving man who gave her more attention than many of the other Reverent dignitaries showed their wives. 

“Good, good,” he said, still looking at the painting. After a pause he looked at Kerina and moved to pour himself some wine. “You know, you impressed me in Varav.”

 

“I did,” Kerina asked.

 

“Yes,” he responded, taking a drink, “You had a fire to you, coming in and controlling the room. I don’t get to see that side of you often. I’d like to see you manage my meetings with me more regularly. It seems my men have a respect for your presence. Especially Bloc.”

“I have worked with Bloc on many projects,” Kerina responded in earnest. “The man is very demanding, but we’ve found quite a bit of common ground. We both care deeply for the future of the Paradigm through the Order’s teachings.”

Kerina smiled and her husband smiled back. This was the type of positioning she wanted to keep. She saw Sabine as someone who wanted power for the sake of it. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. However, it did very little to gain her favor with people. Kerina did not layer her words with false sweetness. She truly cared about the work she did.

Perhaps that is why Rumali and Set took to me so quickly. Alumeria recoiled beneath Sabine.

Rumali. Kerina watched as Dastan drank deeply and poured himself another cup of wine. It had been a dry vintage, tasting of pine and nuts. Having no word on the Prince’s whereabouts had sent Dastan into a deeper solitude than their losses at the gates of Carmus. Of course, they had ultimately been victorious, but it had been a massacre. 

The Prince was still missing. It had been nearly two months since he had run off with Alumeria Dalmachin into the tunnels of the Allfaang. Dastan had wasted no time sending a search party, but had found nothing yet. The Kiv Sijad were already out on mission, so some of the Kingsguard were sent instead. They had found some traces, but ultimately lost the trail after Rumali and Allie had moved further from the Pohpen. Dastan was also battling insomnia.

“I’m off to see our prisoner,” Dastan said, placing the goblet down on his desk, “I’ll want him front and center at the ball if we are to make an impact.” He paused. “Kerina, do you think I did the right thing…with Valgus?

The question took her by surprise. She pushed down her exhaustion and drug out her tactical front. “I believe so, my husband. He is ultimately a good man, but he has shown his love often blinds him to the greater truths. To that end, his indiscretion cannot be overlooked. I think you took the measured approach.”

Dastan nodded and left, his golden cloak trailing him. As he exited, a messenger came in. Kerina tapped her goblet with her fingers as a wave of newfound energy came over her, with slightly flushed cheeks to match.

“Your Highness,” said the messenger, a spindly man with silvery hair and pale eyes. One eye sat slightly lower than the other. He did not appear to be a messenger she knew, which meant this was either a correspondence from The Hands or she was about to be assassinated. Kerina placed a hand on a dagger strapped to her outer thigh, hidden beneath her dress, using a moment of exhaustion to do so. 

 

“Can I help you?” she asked. “I have much to attend to.”

 

“I have two letters for you. One from the Kiv Sijad and one from your sister,” the man said, reaching out with rolled up parchment. 

 

I don’t have a sister.

 

“Thank you,” Kerina noted, “You can leave them on my husband’s desk.”

 

“I’m afraid I cannot,” he said, “Your sister was explicit that you must read hers in front of me and then destroy it.”

 

Sabine, Kerina thought.

 

She took the Kiv Sijad letter first and unfurled it as the man watched on. It was from the scouts.

 

We found Kaspar Pale in the Kallista Woods, but he is not traveling alone. He bested us and escaped. He is traveling with a Perse. The Kauger army has officially caught up to us and we are now forced to abandon the mission. We cannot apprehend Pale in front of them without suspicion. We’ll work with Mindaria to find Pale but under the context that he attacked us. Based on where we intercepted them, they may also have the fallen God Stone in their possession - or knowledge of it. When you hear from us next it will be a more official correspondence.

 

Kerina tore up the letter with a sigh and set it alight with a nearby candle. Of course it failed….and now there’s a Perse involved. As incredulous as it sounded, she couldn’t ask anyone for help or alert her husband to the existence of a living Perse. Not only would it sound ludicrous, her operation would be exposed. She paused to look at the messenger. They stared at her intently. She rolled her eyes and opened the second letter.

 

Kerina, I will be in attendance at your ball. We have some matters to discuss and decisions to make. My retinue and personal guard will be with me. Appearances. 

 

Kerina rolled up the note and set it alight in the same candle as the first. The messenger bowed and left the room.

She took a deep drink of her wine and found a new pang of stress. Wonderful, she thought. Now she would need to entertain Dastan’s needs of reestablishing strength to the masses while fulfilling her duties to The Hands in a single night.

Kerina placed the goblet down and walked back toward the ballroom to engage with those preparing the space. Passing a large hanging mirror she briefly looked at herself. Her eyes were a bit dark underneath, but it was nothing makeup could not conceal. She smiled and pushed down on her loose-fitting gown. With a week until the ball, Kerina knew there would be very little sleep and many tasks to do - and by the Gods she would shoulder them all.