Epilogue
In the end , the Assembly decided to combine the coronation ceremony with the official celebration of Yslie and Peron’s marriage. Condensing everything into one large party appealed to the new emperor and empress. After considerable deliberation, the Assembly voted to wait a month and take the time to plan everything properly.
Yslie had to admit, they had done a wonderful job. The old traditions were honored with a procession through Kalitalo, allowing citizens to look upon their new rulers. Yet new additions to the event showcased the Assembly’s new role in the government. Yslie and Peroen started at the Assembly House, then wound their way through the streets of the city. They smiled while the politicians accompanying them threw coins into the crowd.
When they reached the palace, the rest of the Assembly members waited in places of honor, supplanting the usual courtiers who had to make do with the same view as the general population. Yslie and Peroen stopped in front of the twin thrones—a team of craftsmen had worked with feverish speed to make a second one that was every bit as beautiful as the first. The Speaker of the Assembly faced them and spoke the words that had historically belonged to the highest-ranking priest in the city.
The speech itself hadn’t needed to be altered; it had always been about serving the people, even if past emperors hadn’t fulfilled the responsibilities that came with the crown. Then the Speaker placed a crown of gold and sapphires upon Yslie’s head. A moment later, the matching piece made with gold and rubies adorned Peroen’s head.
Hands clasped, they stepped back and sat on the thrones and the party began.
“Do you think we need to stay much longer?” Peroen whispered.
Yslie grinned. “The celebration just started. Of course we need to stay longer. But I think we can move from the dais soon.”
“That would mean joining the crowd. I’m not sure that’s any better. Triese and Odela are out there somewhere.”
Yslie’s good cheer didn’t waver. Triese still thought to find power through her court connections, not accepting that the court as she knew it no longer existed. She was no threat. As for Odela, she had a plan for how to handle the politically savvy oracle who had no intention of fading into obscurity. “Sophenie and Brevin are also out there. I think today is the perfect day to talk to them.”
“All right. But let’s start with Sophenie. She won’t stay long.”
Yslie and Peroen stood and made their way into the crowd. It took considerable time to get even a few steps from the dais, for once they left the thrones behind, everyone wanted to talk to them. In the end, Sophenie came to them rather than the other way around.
“I wanted to say congratulations before I left.” She stepped to the side, avoiding even an accidental brush of shoulders with a man walking past and frowned. “I’m done here.”
“Here as in the party, or here as in Kalitalo?” Yslie asked.
“The party. I haven’t even made a dent in going through everything in the archives.”
Sophenie had spent most of the past month in the imperial archives, but there were enough papers there to keep her busy for years. Yslie was certain a few of the records were fascinating, but many others were as dry as dust. Sophenie loved them all.
“About that,” Peroen said, holding out a hand to ask her not to leave. “Now that Yslie and I have official authority, we wanted to ask you to accept a post in the imperial government.”
“We want you to be the Imperial Archivist,” Yslie clarified, before Sophenie could run from the idea of any other government post. “As of right now, that is in our power, though you may need to be confirmed by the Assembly later.”
Peroen had changed the guards’ orders, allowing Sophenie into the archives, but until today, they hadn’t been able to name an Imperial Archivist, a post that had lapsed under Peroen’s grandfather’s rule. Until today, everything in the palace had pretty much continued as before, only without Envaho’s personal excesses.
The Assembly wouldn’t have allowed the delay before their coronation if Envaho hadn’t surprised everyone with his reaction to the news that he had been deposed. Before anyone could figure out the logistics of forcing an emperor to abdicate, the problem had solved itself. Within hours of the Assembly’s decision to put Peroen and Yslie on the throne, Envaho and Lhashiki were found in his rooms, poisoned.
Qilar insisted that the drugged wine had come from Lhashiki, who would never have wanted to see her emperor reduced in any way. Yslie didn’t really care who had made the decision, nor could she find it within her to feel sorrow over such a turn of events. For once, Emperor Envaho had made things easier for everyone.
Sophenie’s eyes went wide. “Imperial Archivist? You want me to be the Imperial Archivist?”
“Who better?” Peroen asked. “You are already more familiar with the archives than anyone else. Since you already plan to read everything there, you might as well get paid for your trouble.”
“What do you say?” Yslie prompted when Sophenie continued to gape.
“Of course I want the job. Thank you. Thank you so much!” Sophenie wasn’t one for physical displays of affection, but her heartfelt thanks were as satisfying as a hug. “Oh, I have so many plans to make. I’ll need to figure out a better organization system. And lighting. Can we install firestones?”
Peroen laughed. “Make a list of what you need. We’ll figure out a budget next week.”
“Yes, a list. I need to start a list.” Sophenie didn’t say farewell, turning and making her way to the door while still muttering under her breath.
“That went well,” Yslie said with a laugh.
“Do you think we’ll get a similar reaction to our next offer?”
“Only one way to find out.”
It was over an hour later before they made it to their next target, but Yslie wasn’t as annoyed as she might have expected to spend so much time talking with politicians and generic well-wishers. She might not enjoy political functions, per se, but she loved being a part of making the future. Making a difference.
Nor was Peroen miserable.
“Because you’re with me,” he whispered, when she asked why he hadn’t run from the hall screaming yet. “Together we can do anything, including surviving our own coronation and wedding celebration.”
“What about talking to an incubus?”
Peroen sighed, but it was an act, she knew. He had agreed with her plan, just as she had agreed that naming Sophenie the Imperial Archivist was a good choice.
“Your Majesties,” Brevin bowed. “Thank you for the personal invitation to attend the festivities.”
“They might not have happened if it hadn’t been for you,” Yslie replied. “And though an invitation to a party does not sufficiently cover the favor we already owe you, we had hoped to ask you to do us yet another.”
“As I said before, not letting them win was the only favor I needed. And seeing you happy together gives me hope that life doesn’t always have to be about favors and games. Sometimes love can win.”
“Does that mean you have no heart for playing such games anymore?” Yslie studied him, trying to decide if her request would truly be an imposition.
Brevin grinned and transformed from a helpless romantic to a man who was just a little wicked. “As I am not in love—yet—such games are still my primary source of amusement. And if I am lucky, when I fall in love, my partner will enjoy playing with me.”
Peroen slipped an arm around Yslie’s waist, pulling her a little closer. “Do you think you’d be able to handle playing for only one side?”
The incubus raised an eyebrow. “Depends on the side. Most of the factions have a mix of stances I agree with and ones I detest. That’s why I work the way I do.”
“Pynth’s side,” Yslie told him. “Peroen and I would like you to work for us. We, too, don’t plan to support any factions in totality and want to tackle each issue as a singular case. But we need people who can help us if we want to make a difference.”
“Pianti and Qilar aren’t enough?”
Peroen laughed. “They are very useful allies, but Pianti’s advice will always be given with her own goals in mind. Our hope is that you will spare us that manipulation. We don’t require that you always agree with us, only that you are honest.”
“And we hope you might help us not only achieve our goals, but decide what they are,” Yslie added. “We want you to share your opinions and tell us when we are making foolish decisions.”
“So, more of a partnership?” Brevin asked.
“Exactly.”
“In that case, I think playing only one side will suit me fine. We can discuss the details later, but do you have anything in mind for me to work on first? I’d hate to let today go to waste.”
Yslie looked at Peroen. He nodded, then turned back to Brevin. “Odela, I think. We need to know what her next plans are.”
“Excellent. I’ll see what I can learn.” Brevin bowed again and disappeared into the crowd.
Yslie tucked her head against Peroen’s shoulder. “I think we’ve done enough for now. Between Brevin and Pianti, we’ll know Odela’s every promise to her remaining allies by tomorrow morning. I bet most of the futures Sophenie can see all have Odela leaving Kalitalo before the year is out. She doesn’t stand a chance.”
“In that case, since this is ostensibly our celebration, I vote we go celebrate.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Yslie asked innocently, trying hard to keep a straight face.
Peroen leaned close and nipped her ear, the action hidden under her hair. “No, and I don’t think you want to stay here for the type of celebration I have in mind.”
Yslie couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through her at his low-voiced warning. She pulled away, grabbing his hand. “Then what are we waiting for?”
This time they made it through the crowd quickly, well-wishers taking one look at them and laughingly sending them closer to the door. Yslie didn’t blush or stammer. She was an empress, in love with and beloved by her emperor. She’d never need to hide her heart again.
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