Chapter 5: Caelholdt

Queen Regent Eleanore strode into the room with a purposeful stride. She wore her usual, formal black attire -a long elegant gown that brushed the floor as she walked. Her ashy, brown locks were pulled tightly back into an intricate braid at the nape of her neck, and there were a few stray pieces that purposefully hung down to frame her pale, heart shaped face. A crown of gold and black sapphires rested on her furrowed brow, which only served to enhance her regal appearance.

The queen's close aide, Count Efferon, followed closely behind her as they made their way to the dais. He was also wearing all black formal wear and sweating profusely. It was the same kind of thing they had been wearing to “honor” the emperor and empress prior, since their untimely death three years ago . Cael knew it was all just for show, but he would dare call them out about it, even if it did sicken him. He had heard the rumors.

The tension in the room grew as the lords greeted the queen.

"Greetings to the little moon of the empire. May the goddess bless you!"

Cael watched his mother's nose scrunch up in irritation, no doubt from being called the "little moon" of the empire. It was a title reserved only for the empire's lower queens. As queen regent, Eleanore had more power than any other lower queen. However, she was still a lower queen and could never hold the title of "Empress" and "True Moon of the Empire". He knew it bothered her quite a bit and found her reactions funny. Not that he would show it.

Eleanore huffed in acknowledgment after taking her seat on the emperor's throne as Count Efferon moved to his place at the foot of the dais, allowing the lords to finally take their own seats. Some of the lords looked a bit uncomfortable at the queen's choice of seating, but chose not to voice their concerns.

It's probably for the best, thought Cael. He knew how his mother was, and if the lords were smart, they'd stay in her good graces.

He turned and smiled warmly at his mother to give his own greetings.

"Good morning, Queen Mother. Did you rest well?" She spared him but a glance, and said nothing as she raised a hand to signal the start of the meeting. Cael couldn't help but feel a little put out at the lackluster response.

What did I expect? He frowned for a moment, before expertly schooling his own expression and giving the rest of the council his undivided attention. Lord Csavion, a count from the southern province of Lichtney was the first to step forward.

The council meeting went on for hours, and half-way through, Cael was struggling to even keep his eyes open. He could feel his mother's glare at times, but ignored it. A lot of the meeting was business-as-usual as they discussed land disputes, about how much to tax the commoners, and also the upcoming ceremony for the Festival.

It was all very boring.

That was until Cael was suddenly tapped on his shoulder by Petyr, who had apparently been trying to get his attention for a while. He realized that the room was silent and everyone was looking at him. His face also burned from where his mother was staring angrily at him. Embarrassment flushed through him, and he was mad at himself for not paying attention sooner.

Cael glanced at Petyr with worry, but thankfully, Petyr had been paying attention. It was at times like this that Cael truly appreciated having him around.

"Your highness," Petyr whispered. " They were talking about your marriage... To Lady Katerina."

Ah, Dammit.

The prince cleared his throat, before addressing the lords, specifically Duke Raus Avantian who had moved to stand before the dais. The duke was a middle-aged gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair, broad shoulders, and a gruff voice. He also happened to be Cael's adopted, maternal uncle -though they never really got along.

"I apologize for my inattention. What were you saying, Your Grace?"

Annoyance flashed across the duke's face. For a moment, it almost looked as if he was ready to storm up the dais and choke the prince. Cael could feel Petyr shuffle uncomfortably beside him and take a more defensive stance. Upon seeing this, the contempt on the duke's face seemed to slowly melt away leaving only a shallow smile.

"I was simply wondering when Your Majesties would like to move forward with the wedding," The duke narrowed his eyes at Cael.

"Your highness will be of age to take the throne in a few months, and it would be wise to already have a bride who can help you secure your position."

"Your grace," Cael wanted to laugh. It was obvious he was just excited to become the father of the empress and to have the authority that comes with it.

"Although I understand your concern for Lady Katerina, we are both still young. I don't think it will hurt to wait a little while longer. This is our first betrothal and it hasn't been very long. Things may change."

At least I hope so. Kat could always change her mind.

Cael wasn’t sure that he could convince her to give up her pursuit, but he had to… For both of their sakes. It was already hard enough for one to know what they wanted when they were as young as they were, and at the end of the day, he still wished for Katerina’s happiness.

That happiness just couldn’t be with him.

In the empire, there was no law or tradition that said one had to marry their betrothed. It was even common for one to be betrothed several times over before finally settling down. In Artemisia, marriage before the goddess was forever. Once the ceremony was done and the [Oath of Life] taken, your partner would be tied to you -body and soul- for the rest of your life. Thanks to the mana rich world that they lived in, all oaths held weight, and once the soul's oath was tied into the ether, the consequences of breaking them were far too heavy for any one person to bare. It was also the reason why most didn't marry until later in life. Much later.

The prince smiled slyly as he continued, addressing the entire council.

"I propose we wait until the Alberion Celebrations. If in the next two years things do not change, and provided she has completed all her training as required, I shall marry the daughter of House Avantian."

Cael wanted to vomit at the thought, but held back as he observed the lords' reactions. All but a few were content with the prince's suggestion.

"With all due respect, Prince Caelholdt," Raus interjected.

Cael turned his stony gaze back to the duke, resisting the urge to launch himself from the dais to beat some sense into the old man. Every meeting Raus tried to push forward the marriage, and every meeting Cael had to find more creative ways to push it back further.

The game was growing tiresome.

"You’re just a lowly, half-blooded prince. You’ll have to marry a high-noble lady in order to secure your position. Without it, your claim is shaky at best,"

The prince was vexed by his words, but didn't show it outwardly. Instead, his lips twitched upward into a slight sneer. The duke had taken the bait and said exactly what Cael had expected him to. It wasn't surprising since the duke took every opportunity to remind him of his lowly origins. Unfortunately for the head of House Avantian, he had said too much in front of Cael's mother, who was the progenitor of his lowly blood.

Queen Eleanore was born a commoner and the daughter of a wealthy merchant. At the age of fourteen, she was adopted into House Avantian by the late duke, as House Avantian didn't have any daughters at the time to help navigate the social circles of the noble ladies. She was officially taken in as a lady of House Avantian, but that didn't change the fact that she was still the daughter of a commoner, and commoner's blood ran through her veins.

Her ash-brown hair, and black eyes were proof enough of her origins, as only commoners with little mana capacity were born with it. Many thought Cael was lucky to take after the emperor prior with his ebony black locks and the jeweled, azure eyes that belonged only to the imperial family of Artemisia. And while Cael despised having any kind of resemblance to that man, It had also probably saved him a lot of trouble over the years. No one could question his royal lineage.

"Mind your tongue, Duke." Eleanore's tone was harsh as she spoke. "I may be your sister-in-name, but there is a limit to my kindness. Be careful of whom you speak or not even I can save you."

The duke gritted his teeth, fist clenching at his sides.

He wanted to voice a retort, but stayed silent. Though they weren't siblings by blood, he knew Eleanore's words weren't just idle threats. They had grown up together after all, and if it weren't for the fact that they were political allies who relied heavily on each other, he'd probably be dead several times over. He couldn't say anything else regarding the subject, even if he wanted to.

Cael felt smug at the duke's quick change in behavior, and exchanged a quick glance with Petyr who also seemed to be amused. Then, he turned back to address the council. When he did, he couldn't help but notice that Lord Laedric was watching him with a strange look in his eyes, while Lord Orin -along with a few of the other young lords around his age- watched him with open curiosity.

"I don't need a bride to take my rightful place. My claim is stable enough. I am the only son of His Majesty, the late Emperor. If anyone wishes to dispute this claim, step forward now." He leveled the lords with a cold glare, daring anyone to challenge him. No one spoke.

Cael waited a moment more before nodding, while Petyr smiled with pride from beside him.

"Good. Should anyone have concerns about this matter, I give my word as Crown Prince to honor the proposal that I mentioned previously. What say you, my lords?"

A round of "Ayes" echoed around the table and Cael sighed in relief. The tension left his body as he sunk further into his seat.

At least that was one matter he needn't worry about for a while. Soon enough, he would be twenty-five and of legal age to ascend the throne. That would hopefully give him enough time to convince Katerina to give up on her fanciful expectations. If that didn't work, he would simply use his authority as emperor to break off their betrothal. Perhaps he'd even find a foreign noble to marry her off to.

The further away from him the better, he thought.

Cael was more than grateful when the meeting moved further away from the topic of his marriage. He’d be happy if he never had to hear of it again. He pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve the tension in his pounding head. Petyr, noticing Cael’s discomfort, kindly offered the prince a glass of water. Cael accepted graciously and had to stop himself from gulping it all down at once. Sighing, he passed the glass back to Petyr and turned his attention back to the meeting.

He didn’t want a repeat of earlier.

Count Romain pulled a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his sweaty brow as he moved to bow before the other lords and the dais. He looked nervous as he scratched the back of his neck, and took a deep breath before addressing Queen Eleanore.

“Your Majesty,” Romain gulped. “T-The next thing on the agenda are the envoy from Elios. They have requested an audience with your majesties, and the council, urgently.”

Eleanore’s displeasure was clear as her brows scrunched together.

“Well, that’s quite unfortunate. The Council is closed to outsiders. Tell them to leave,” She said.

Romain shook nervously. He was well aware of the queen’s cruel temper and had a feeling he knew what her reaction would be to what he said next.

“W-well, my queen…” His voice trailed off. “I-I can’t.”

“And what does that mean Lord Efferon?” Her expression darkened as she narrowed her eyes at the court. Cael simply looked on in confusion.

“W-well, it m-means,” When Count Romain continued to struggle to form a coherent sentence, one of the other lords, whom Cael recognized as Marquise Mikhail Leywin -Petyr’s father- stepped forward.

“What he means, Your Majesty, is that you cannot just send them away,” stated Mikhail. Cael admired Mikhail’s straightforward character, and couldn’t help but wish they had been better acquainted. The marquise could prove to be a powerful ally one day.

“They have the support of three of the ducal houses as well as that of House Leywin. As the law states, as long as an outsider has the backing of at least three high-lords, they are allowed entrance. In regards to the matter, we cannot afford to take it lightly. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that the well being of the empire depends on it!”

Everyone waited in anxious silence as the queen pondered over her answer for a moment. Then she nodded.

“Very well. Send them in.”