Chapter 11
11
“Oh! good morning, Your Highness.” Jinky curtsied and placed the breakfast tray on the bedside table. “You’re already awake.” She handed me my cup of champorado.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the chocolate rice porridge from her. “Yes, I’m really looking forward to formally meeting the council.” More like, I was energized by rage at everything that happened the day before. In fact, it kept me up half the night, tossing and turning, various plans running through my head. I was also nervous. I tried to tamp down the flutters in my stomach. Reveal no weakness, I reminded myself. No time for that. I was on a mission. I wasn’t going to have another disaster like that one. I wasn’t going to be dressed like a katipunero this time.
While I sipped on the hot chocolate, Jinky put my hair up in one of her elaborate designs. When she was done, we went to the wardrobe to choose a dress. I intended to make an entrance. “Casual” had been a huge mistake, one I didn’t intend to repeat. I had to command attention. Project authority. I pulled out the most beautiful baro’t saya I found in my closet, a deep-purple-and-gold A-line satin gown with a high, jeweled collar that matched the gems on the bodice and at the edges of the pointy, peaked sleeves, which came with a lace-trimmed silk shawl that would drape elegantly over my shoulders.
My garments made me feel older. Like a queen, not a princess. Exactly what I wanted. I spun a bit in the mirror to watch how the skirt twirled and settled around me.
“Ay! Ang ganda!” Jinky said. She stood back and smiled. She was wearing her favorite dress, too, a light-yellow-and-white empire-waist gown with short butterfly sleeves and matching gloves. It suited her perfectly.
“Thank you. You look gorgeous, too!” Inside, I thought, Yes, let’s stun them. If I was afraid of my own power, others would take advantage of that vulnerability. “Could you please request every available guard to escort us? And the two best to escort me personally? Actually, make it four. Two to march behind me and one for each side. And I’d like them all to carry their swords.”
Jinky looked surprised but immediately left to gather the extra security. Another power play on my part. I wanted to send the message that I was not only well protected, but also willing to use force if necessary.
Once I was ready and the guards were gathered outside my room, we walked down to the front atrium, where two calesas waited. One for me and Jinky, and one for my additional security detail. Elias also rode with us.
“This is the only council meeting until the coronation,” he said on the way over. “It is quite likely they’ll have something to say about how we’re handling it.”
“Like what?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Someone always takes issue with something. The scale of the affair. Which of their representatives are included. Who knows what they’ll come up with? There may even be real trouble like yesterday. That was unwise, Princess.”
“As you’ve told me a hundred times since yesterday’s meeting,” I sighed. “I promise, I won’t do it again.”
The Council of the Courts met in a building past the Market District, right in the center of the four kingdoms—a massive glass dome, probably the size of a city block, that reflected the sky. I did my best to maintain a poker face, as if I saw that type of thing every day in boring, human California. Show no vulnerability, I reminded myself. I had to hold this realm together.
The road circled all the way around the entire building. Where it split from the main avenue, it was paved with silver stones that twinkled like diamonds.
As we got closer, I looked out the window and saw that the stones weren’t silver, as they’d appeared from a distance, but glass or crystal—or maybe even actual diamonds. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were. However, in line with my personal oath, I was not going to play the ingenue and ask.
The carriage pulled into the circle. There were other vehicles in front of us, carrying representatives from each of the kingdoms. I watched as the occupants emerged and paraded down the wide, deep steps that led into the building. I was glad I went all out on my outfit choice that morning. They were dressed to impress, too—in the most lavish malong capes and jeweled ternos, formfitting all-white ensembles next to head-to-toe black. There was a councilor in traditional datu costume, a multicolored short jacket with matching trousers, with no shirt underneath, a curved sword at his hip.
I was relieved that I was the only one wearing dark purple and gold. Perhaps as in the human realm during medieval times, purple was only worn by royalty.
Finally, it was our turn to pull up to the front entrance. Elias stepped out first and offered his hand to Jinky, then me. The attendees who were congregating near the doors all turned to watch as I got out of the coach, my dress shimmering and flowing around me.
The other carriages had all pulled away, so the entire drive up to the council was full with my security detail, outfitted in their formal white uniforms.
I nodded politely at the curious onlookers as we climbed the steps—slowly. No rushing in as if I was intimidated. Some of the attendees returned the favor and nodded back; others simply stared, even open-mouthed, gawking at the display. It was their first look at the new princess, so I wasn’t offended or all that surprised. It helped that I felt great, too. I knew their staring wasn’t because I was making some kind of faux pas.
Once we reached the top, we entered through a round door that had to be fifteen feet tall. It was held open by Biringan City guards, a special battalion meant to keep the peace between kingdoms during events like these. That seemed to be the theme everywhere I went—lots of guards. Rather than make me feel safe, it was putting me more on edge. If such a place needed so many neutral guards, there was a lot of danger present, and to me, a real utopia wouldn’t require that. Again, I was glad I made the right choices for that day—I definitely met the mood with my personal security detail.
Inside, there was a large round room, brightly lit thanks to the glass dome. I looked up—the glass was nearly invisible; the clear sky loomed over us as if there was no roof at all. Meanwhile, all around, groups of people stood together like they did outside, talking, some of them holding drinks. It felt like a fantasy courthouse. There was even a horse inside, for some reason. And then I saw it stand up on its hind legs and walk, like a human, over to speak with a man wearing a dark-red floor-length gown. Elias saw me staring. He leaned down and said, “Tikbalang. Harmless, mostly. They emerge from the woods of Biringan for the council meetings, but otherwise, we hardly see them.”
“Would you like something to drink?” A servant with a gold tray popped up next to me.
“Sure,” I said. I picked a tall narrow glass from the tray. When he walked away, I sniffed it as inconspicuously as I could.
“It’s only lavender calamansi,” Elias whispered to me.
“I knew that,” I said. He laughed softly. I took a sip. “Oh, wow.” I couldn’t help saying it. “This is really good.”
“Biringan calamansi juice is the best,” Elias said. “Better than lemonade.”
I sipped some more. “You’re not kidding.”
He looked confused. “No, I’m quite serious.”
“Your Highness,” Jinky said, gently touching my arm, “I think they’re about to begin.” She nodded toward the groups starting to migrate into one of the smaller doorways on the right.
“Welp. Here we go.” Reluctantly, I set my calamansi juice on the nearest table. I didn’t think walking in with a sweaty glass in my hand would create the glamorous entrance I was hoping for.
Elias went in first, then Jinky, and finally it was my turn. Standing alongside two guards with the rest behind us, I took a huge, deep breath, waited a beat, then stepped inside.
And it worked just as I’d hoped. Talking stopped when I came in.
The room was set up like an ancient stadium. In the center there was a massive round table for the head of each court, surrounded by riser seating, all carved out of stone. Each court had its own section, so the effect was similar to a sporting event because so many in the audience wore their faction’s official colors.
But there weren’t tons of onlookers—and the few who were present were comfortably spread out. I glanced over at the Court of Sirena, which was already occupied by members of the court, most of whom I hadn’t even met yet but had shown up for me. There were also rows of guards who walked in before me, standing. Once the rest marched in, the entire section would be full.
I smiled at the thought.
As I stepped inside and began my procession down the aisle to the center, there were some barely concealed scowls and dirty looks shot my way. There was also plenty of the opposite—smiles and head nods encouraging me on. I did get a sense that if I was going to take the throne as planned, I was going to have to win some naysayers over. Otherwise, there would be a lot of resistance, particularly from the Court of Sigbin. None of them appeared friendly—it was all smirks and glares from that set. Amador regarded me coolly. I was surprised to find Lucas was not with her.
Once the heads of court were seated and the Court of Sirena guards took their places, a leader—I wasn’t sure of her name or title or even which court she belonged to—banged a large, old-fashioned gavel and declared that the 846th Biannual Biringan Meeting of the Councils had begun.
“Baroness Tanginaw of the Court of Sigbin?” the council leader called out.
“Here,” came the reply. The baroness wore a Maria Clara dress and a jeweled comb made of mother-of-pearl.
“Sir Dorado of the Court of Tikbalang?” the council leader called next. Another answer in the affirmative, from a knight wearing a tribal mask over his face.
“Duchess Siria Prado, Court of Lambana?” A woman in a simple camisa, with a matching panuelo over her shoulders, nodded.
I was glad for the roll because I learned who was who. I made it a point to repeat each name in my head so I’d remember if I needed to address them. A few of them stood out easily, though: The one in the datu outfit was Joaquin Valeria, a representative of the Court of Tikbalang. The couple clad in contrasting white and black were from the Court of Lambana—Lord and Lady Camangayan.
“First call to order,” the Biringan master of ceremonies announced. She didn’t even need a microphone or anything—her voice carried clearly through the entire room. “For the establishment of unrestricted travel ways in the common areas of Biringan. Initial call. Those in favor, say aye.”
A series of ayes popped up across the room. I looked at Elias. He nodded slightly. I joined the chorus with one aye.
“All those opposed?”
One squeaky nay rose from somewhere around the table. It looked like it came from an empty chair, but then I saw that the little voice was actually coming from the creature standing on the table.
“Bibao Court opposes,” the master of ceremonies announced for the record. I hadn’t even heard a Bibao Court in the introductions.
“Why?” I whispered to Elias.
“They oppose every motion, unless all others oppose, in which case they vote in favor.”
“Why?”
“They’re an opposition court. Technically they aren’t even recognized.” Bibaos were ordinary spirits, household sprites.
I didn’t have time to get more clarity on that. We were on to the next thing. The master of ceremonies made another announcement: “Open house session. Any court that wishes to raise an issue, your concern can now be heard. One councilor from your court should stand and wait to be called upon.”
Around the table, a few began to rise. The MC—of course they didn’t call her that, but I couldn’t help it—took her time looking them over before raising her finger and pointing to one. “The gentleman from the Court of Tikbalang may have the floor,” she announced. The others sat, a couple groaning that they’d have to wait a while longer.
The datu cleared his throat. He had to be nearly seven feet tall, and though he was lean, he exuded physical strength. “Tikbalang challenges the succession of the princess of the Court of Sirena.”
Loud voices broke out around the room. Some clapping. People began shouting their own opinions at the speaker, as if that was going to contribute anything. As for me, I sat there, stunned. He was talking about me. And judging by the response, quite a few agreed with him. “The king should have passed the line of succession to someone worthy when he had the chance,” someone yelled.
Maybe they were all insurgents? Was this a trap?
A woman with short white hair and a silver terno, also from Tikbalang, stood up. “The Court of Sirena has monopolized the throne for far too long.”
And then a member of the Court of Lambana, a winged man wearing an embroidered robe, responded, “We all know the agreement, and it has worked thus far.”
“But she is a stranger to our land! And a hapcanto!”
“What is going on?” I asked Elias. “Is this a coup?”
Elias stood abruptly without acknowledging what I said. “The Court of Sirena objects to this disrespectful statement!” he declared. “The line of succession is not up for debate!”
People began shouting and arguing again. I didn’t like this. Not at all. I looked behind me; the guards were on alert, their weapons within reach, scanning the room for threats. I was worried for my safety, sure, but even worse than that, I felt betrayed. I’d been led to believe I had to be there, that I was wanted there. Maybe not by everyone—Amador and Lucas came to mind—but I certainly had not expected to be roundly rejected by all four kingdoms.
Almost like they heard my thoughts about my hostile classmates, another man in a malong scarf stood up. “The Court of Sigbin concurs with the Court of Tikbalang.” There was some clapping.
Elias sat down, defeated.
“This is not good,” I said to him.
“No, no, it is not,” he said.
“Did you know about this?” I asked him.
“There is always strife when the throne is vacated. So, to answer your question, yes, I knew there was some discontent. Someone will always try their luck and make a claim. But did I expect this level of—” He gestured at the chaos. “No.”
The Tikbalang representative spoke up again. “We assert that the princess of Sirena is, in actuality, not the one true heir.” A hush fell over the room. I noticed that, though they’d all been talking about me, none of them would actually look at me. When I came in, they all stared, and now they acted like I wasn’t even there. He continued, “The princess of Sirena is ineligible to rule, due to her well-documented and easily verified status as hapcanto.” Lots of murmurs of agreement now. “She cannot rule above us as she is half-human.”
Elias stood again. “If I may,” he said. The noise continued.
“The Court of Sirena is recognized,” the MC shouted over the din. She banged the gavel. The voices finally stopped.
Elias cleared his throat. “King Vivencio Basilio Rodriguez was the widely accepted one true king of Biringan as established by the succession laid out in the ancient treaty of the kingdoms.”
He paused. No one dissented. He went on: “The princess is his legitimate and true daughter. Therefore, she is the one true heir. There is no clause in the treaty stating both parents must be encantos.” Now there was some dissent. The voices rose again. Elias raised his hand to quiet them. Shockingly, they listened this time.
“It is established by tradition,” someone shouted. The Court of Sigbin representative stood up to challenge Elias.
“Tradition does not supersede the treaty,” Elias told him.
“According to whom?” the Sigbin rep responded. The two men stared each other down.
Elias straightened his shoulders. “What I hear you saying is that you wish to go to war.”
The councilor from Sigbin smirked. “We at Sigbin have been accused of this twice now. And yet it seems that the Court of Sirena is eager to fan the flames of discontent and ignite conflict rather than do the right thing and stand aside.”
“You speak nonsense,” Elias said. His face was red, almost purple, with fury. I was shocked to see him that way—he’d been so even-tempered all the time, even when I was being a pain. “If you are being honest, then you are not qualified to hold that seat, because everyone is aware of the terms of the treaty. The princess returned home when summoned, as she was obliged to do, because even in the human world she could understand the importance of her role. She did not ignore her responsibility to her ancestral seat. She is here to fulfill her duty. And now you stand there and deny it.”
“If King Vivencio had been so concerned about his descendants, he would not have married a human.”
“Once more, there is no clause prohibiting a legitimate-born child of the king from inheriting, no matter their status...”
The councilor from Sigbin pointedly ignored Elias. “So it seems to me, King Vivencio already broke the treaty with his marriage to a human female and by siring a half-breed and leaving no rightful successor. Thus, we are already poised for war.” He looked around for supporters. “Are we not?”
Some agreed; most stayed silent. Even if they didn’t exactly love me, they didn’t want to go to war. Only those who are convinced they’d benefit ever do.
A gray-haired woman in lime green stood.
“The Court of Lambana gets the floor,” the MC shouted, gavel banging again.
“My fellow encantos,” she said. Elias and the Sigbin councilor both sat down. This woman must have had a lot of clout—everyone stopped talking and gave her their full attention. “The facts are these: It is true that Biringan tradition suggests no one aside from a full-blood encanto shall sit on the throne.” I deflated at that. I thought someone would be on my side.
The old woman went on: “It is also true, however, that the treaty, which was signed by the rulers of all houses, says absolutely nothing about this tradition. And tradition is not law. Don Elias of the Court of Sirena is correct; King Vivencio’s daughter is the one true heir as established in the treaty, and if we wish to avoid war, famine, and widespread suffering—which it seems we all do, barring, perhaps, the Court of Sigbin.” She glared at the clearly irritated councilor. “We must follow the treaty. The princess will demonstrate her viability at the coronation ceremony and be crowned queen.” She sat down, and the MC slammed the gavel once more.
That shut everyone up. There was no more disagreement, even from the discontented Court of Sigbin. I was the one true heir, and I would take the throne. The meeting was adjourned.
I tried to remain poised and calm amidst the animated chatter all around me and feel better after the Court of Lambana’s support, except her confidence actually made me feel a lot worse.
I had to find a way to fake my magic somehow. Otherwise...