Chapter 7 – Lady of the Household
The Agnephus dynasty had begun with Ospret Far-Eyes, who was said to have come from the stars.
History was unclear whether he made this claim himself or if it was only a legend that had grown up around him.
It was true that his knowledge was greater than any other man of his time.
His visions had shaped the Empire for centuries to come, as if he had been watching the world for a long time and from a great distance before he had condescended to come down to it.
Every painting and sculpture of Ospret depicted a tall and elegant god with silver-white hair, so light and gleaming, it might have been spun from starlight.
There were some that held this as proof of how diluted the Imperial bloodline had become.
There was no sign of that silvery hair in the House of Agnephus.
House Melun did not dare to say aloud that their bloodline was purer, but it was a matter given much study by the Imperial Healers, and at this year’s Feast of the Departed, even the Melun men flaunted long, pale manes.
They were a tall and lovely contingent under the Dome of Stars, dressed in a shade of purple that was perilously close to the Imperial blue.
The only silver in Emperor Bastin Agnephus’s hair came from age. But none could deny he had Ospret Agnephus’s eyes, an unearthly blue that shone with stars .
Crown Princess Selenne had both starry blue eyes and silver-blonde hair, a long and shining veil that fell nearly to her knees, cultivated at her mother’s command since she was a small child.
At sixteen, she was tall for a maiden; eight inches taller than Ophele, the half-sister she had never met.
Seated at the high table in the Hall of Radiance, she was the figure to whom all eyes turned, an Empress-to-be in whom rested the hopes of two dynasties.
She should have been contemplating the many ancestors ranged in the empty seats opposite her.
At the high table, the entire row facing the Emperor was empty to ensure a place for all the dead Emperors and Empresses.
Every place was set with ivory plates inlaid with silver, sapphires, and diamonds, with silver goblets and crystal wineglasses.
Succulent cuts of meat, exotic greens, and rich sauces were carefully portioned onto every plate, course after course of exquisite dishes.
The wine was of such a rare vintage, even the Emperor only sipped at half a glass.
“You will attend in the Hall of Marbles after the feast,” the Emperor murmured as soon as he had lifted his glass to welcome the spirits.
“Yes, Father.” Selenne arranged her skirts and hair carefully before she sat down, with her father on her right and her mother on her left. The Emperor and Empress did not like to sit next to each other.
“Your grandparents and I will be in the Tower of Ylesse Liet,” the Empress added, as serenely as if the Emperor hadn’t spoken. “I hope you will come to visit your Melun ancestors, my daughter.”
“Yes, Mother.” Selenne sat stiffly under her mother’s caress, a touch of cool fingertips on her cheek. Empress Esmene could not prevail over the authority of the Emperor, so instead she appealed to blood and sentiment.
“We welcome the divine spirit of Ospret Agnephus, the first Emperor, father of the nation of Argence…” Prior Dardinne Rumes, a somber and dignified fellow in light blue robes, began the list of names and accomplishments of every Agnephus from Ospret onward.
“…and beloved husband of Ambrosie Star-Daughter…”
In the stories, this was further evidence of the divine lineage of the House of Agnephus; not only had Ospret come from the stars, but his bride was the child of one, as if the stuff in Selenne’s veins was silver rather than red.
Selenne had heard these stories for as long as she could remember, but had never been able to make up her mind if she believed it.
Did it really matter? Everyone else behaved as if it were true .
As the Prior droned on, the hall was silent but for the clinking of utensils and cups as course after course was brought out, a symphony of complimentary and contrasting tastes, textures, and colors.
It was a signal honor to be invited to the Emperor’s Feast of the Departed.
It was fairly intimate, for an official function; only two hundred people were permitted into the Hall of Radiance, and at the high table sat representatives from the ducal Houses, related to the House of Agnephus by blood or marriage.
Only House Ereguil and House Andelin were absent.
There were a few maidens of Selenne’s age at the high table, most of them her own ladies-in-waiting. But otherwise, it was somber-faced men and women of middle age and their sons, aged from thirteen to thirty-three.
“At the Divinity’s pleasure,” said the Duke of Sangevin, rising from his seat to lay down an opening gambit. “We would remember to you Lexaun Agnephus, the victor of Dulcia. Glory to the Empire.”
An echoed glory to the Empire rippled around the table.
The Emperor acknowledged this with the slightest nod, and Selenne chewed thoughtfully at a tidbit of something that might have been beef before the palace chefs got hold of it.
Her father, mother, and tutors had all warned her repeatedly to ask why people said the things they said.
Sangevin was probably flattering. The conquest of Dulcia had given them the leverage to arrange an Imperial marriage and won them their duchy.
“Glory to the Empire,” said Duke Berebet, a tidy man in his mid-forties with clever eyes. “We drink to Empress Sabette Agnephus, if it pleases the Divinity.”
This one was more difficult; Sabette Agnephus had no particular accomplishments but a largely peaceful reign, but Duke Berebet was notoriously subtle. House Melun was next, and as soon as their representative rose, Selenne knew it would be trouble.
In the first place, it was not her grandfather, who ruled the family with an iron fist. It was Ceneric, one of her Melun cousins, six years her senior and her mother’s obvious choice for Prince Consort.
He and Selenne had often played together when they were children, and the Empress had been salting information about him into their conversations all Selenne’s life.
He was making a name for himself as a swordsman in the Court of War, a skilled courtier, and had enough scholarly and noble accomplishments to win her grandfather’s patronage .
“If it pleases the Divinity, we would lift our cup to the heavens, and Empress Ambrosie Agnephus, Star-Daughter.” Ceneric inclined his head to Selenne.
There was no denying he was a handsome man, tall and well-favored, with waist-length blond hair twisted back from his face with silk cords.
“We may only dream to see her likeness in this world again.”
The intentions behind this offering were not a mystery.
And that opened the floodgates for similar compliments from House Sangevin, Pomeret, and several lesser Houses who did not have ties to the Imperial family yet.
The Empress-to-be needed a Prince Consort, after all, and the younger she married, the more power he would wield.
It was only thanks to her father that she was not already wed. He had steadfastly refused all offers.
“They are calling her Selenne Star-Daughter in the city,” the Empress remarked, with an approving glance at Selenne’s silvery-blond hair. “It would be the glory of the House of Agnephus if all her children looked like the stars. No lesser House would dare to offer such meager compliments.”
“They can call her that even if Ceneric is not Prince Consort.” The Emperor was not fooled by this sally.
“Ceneric is a direct descendent of Issme, the first daughter of Ospret and Ambrosie,” replied the Empress. “To join such scions together—”
“The Tower does not recommend marriage between cousins.” The Emperor’s expression didn’t alter, but Selenne knew he had laid out the bait to issue exactly this insult. “It breeds idiots and degenerates.”
House Melun was well known for the frequent marriage of cousins.
“The purity of the lineage of the stars must be protected carefully,” the Empress replied without so much as a flicker of an eyelash. “Lest it become diluted, and degraded by bastards.”
The Empress never missed an opportunity to reference the bastard princess, who no one knew existed until ten months ago. But if she was hoping to shame him with his infidelity, she failed. If anything, the Emperor seemed pleased every time Princess Ophele was mentioned.
Selenne would have liked to mentally exit the conversation at this point.
The poison barbs her parents flung at each other always seemed to slice her on the way, and their words often echoed in her ears when she was trying to sleep.
But lately things seemed to be escalating, and she thought it behooved her to keep an eye on them.
There was no doubt that both of them were scheming .
It was no accident that when the time for dancing came, Ceneric found her first, all other aspirants being intercepted by the Empress’s ladies-in-waiting. She kept a small army of them, ready at a moment’s notice to conduct their business on her behalf.
“Divinity.” Ceneric bowed elegantly. “Might I ask the favor of the Crown Princess?”
The Emperor eyed him with dislike.
“Melun,” he said. He bristled at every man that approached Selenne, but he reserved a special hatred for House Melun. “You are twenty-two this year?”
“Yes, Divinity.”
“The bonds of blood are many and close between House Melun and the House of Agnephus,” her father observed acidly. “To a man of twenty-two the princess must seem a child. You will regard her as a beloved little sister.”
“Of course, Divinity.” Ceneric never lost his polite smile, and his blue eyes flicked to Selenne. “Your Highness, will you honor me?”
“Older brother,” Selenne said, which would please her father, and gave Ceneric her hand, which would please her mother.