30
Cass
“Lord Davante, will you please rise?” High Lord Dumont requested.
I rose from my chair on the dais that High Lord Dumont, the Prince, and I sat on overlooking the rest of the guests at the Golden Court’s inaugural Winter Gala. I faced my High Lord. He rose from his ornamented, gilded chair and tapped me on the shoulder, directing me to stand to his right, facing out toward the crowd.
“Prince Heroux, would you do me the honor of standing witness for this ceremony?” High Lord Dumont requested, gesturing to the empty space to his left. The Prince elegantly rose from his finely detailed chair and gave High Lord Dumont a respectful nod as he took his place to the high lord’s left.
Murmuring spread amongst the crowd as the components of a formal ceremony fell into place. I was unsure what my high lord had in store for me, but I blindly trusted Drake. And that was something I could say about almost no one else in this Kingdom.
“Lord Davante, it is not often that someone can claim something good out of civil unrest and war, but I stand here today to do just that.”
Excited murmuring continued to expand throughout the masses until a concerted effort of shushing brought the ambient noise back under control. High Lord Dumont smiled down at his constituents patiently.
“I have worked with you these last few years, and in that time, you have served as my confidante and a compassionate and fearless leader for our people.”
Despite the seriousness of the moment, a few cheers and whistles broke out from the crowd in agreement.
“Now I would like to ask you to serve in another important role for me and for this Court which you have made a home for so many. As some of you may know,” High Lord Dumont said, turning his attention toward those who stood in the crowd below us, “I lost my dear wife before we were able to conceive an heir. However, it is with happiness in my heart that I stand here before you all today so that you may know that, although Lord Davante may not be of my blood, he is my kin. I name Lord Cassian Arturo Davante heir to all I have in this world, including the seat of the throne of the Golden Court,” the high lord declared.
I kept my gaze on the crowd and maintained my soldier’s stance, but shock rippled through my body in waves. We’d discussed the possibility of Drake naming me as his heir on quiet nights where we shared our dreams of the future. But I’d had no idea he had intended to make such a move now.
Drake turned to me, looking at my face with pride beaming in his kind, hard eyes.
“My High Lord and my friend, you give me an honor, which is my life’s ambition to accept. I shall serve with honor in your name so long as this Court shall have me.”
“So witnessed,” the Prince repeated ceremonially.
Cheers erupted from familiar faces out in the crowd. I reached behind me and grabbed my mug of lager off the table.
“To the Golden Court, to the King, to the Kingdom,” I roared over the chaos, raising my glass in a toast.
I looked over at Mandy. Her glass was raised in her hand, and I caught an unmistakable glint of love in her eyes. She looked like a princess who had stepped right out of one of the old paintings that hung in hallways. Her long brown hair was curled and tossed over one shoulder. She wore my colors, the colors of the Golden Court, and the gold made the golden thread in her green eyes dance like an ember flame. Slips of gold gossamer fabric formed the top of her form-fitting bodice. The skirt of her dress was made of tiers of layered, delicate golden fabric that expanded out, making her torso appear all the more petite.
I’d promised her that the Golden Court would be our home someday. Now she understood that not only would it be our home, it would be our Court, and she would sit next to me on this dais someday.
Our business out of the way, we turned our attention to our guests for the evening. A line had formed in front of the dais of those patiently waiting for their turn to speak to one of us.
“Prince Heroux,” a small lesser fae woman with spiky orange hair and golden embers for eyes addressed the Prince.
She looked like the incarnate of a flame, and I wondered if she had any abilities that were fire related. She sunk into a low, respectful bow before righting herself and addressing the Prince once more.
“I would like to personally welcome you to our Court, my Prince. My cousin, he resides at the Emerald Court, and he tells me great things about your Court. I hope that the Golden Court follows in your footsteps, my Prince.”
“Thank you for the warm welcome. Please visit the Emerald Court so that we may return the courtesy,” the Prince responded succinctly but kindly.
The small woman nearly jumped out of her shoes in her excitement at receiving an invitation from the Prince himself to his Court.
“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord,” she said excitedly before bowing again and drifting away with a big smile on her face.
I found the small fae woman’s comments about the Emerald Court to be intriguing. I’d heard tales that the Emerald Court was a good home for the lesser fae. But I had never been myself, and the Prince was usually quite selective in whom he invited to his Court.
The next guest in line directed his attention toward me.
“Good evening, my friend. What is your name?” I inquired.
“I do hope to be a friend, my lord. I am here as an emissary under a white flag of peace,” the man announced clearly.
The room grew silent. I shifted in my chair, sitting a little stiffer.
“And who is it that you are here for, emissary?” I asked.
“I am here with a message for you, Lord Davante, from my King, the King of Light and Darkness, the King of Alancia,” he said.
I glanced down the length of the table and to my left. High Lord Dumont displayed a soldier’s calm. The Prince was similarly even keeled, bordering on aloof. Apparently, they were fine with letting me handle this.
“Your King’s forces have been quiet for some time, emissary.” In fact, there had been no major conflicts with any Alancians since the engagement that had occurred immediately following the Fall Ball. “Do you come with news that your King has decided to end this conflict?” I asked.
“No, my lord. That is not the message I carry today. It is my understanding that my King has not acquired what he came to Valencia for, and he will not leave without it,” he replied.
Probably our King’s head and the throne of the High Court, I thought.
“Very well, emissary. Proceed with your message,” I directed.
“The King of the North speaks directly to you, Lord Davante, and states as follows,” the messenger said and then, perhaps by just a trick of the light, it appeared as though the messenger’s eyes grew lighter.
“I come with a message of equality and an offer for those of like-minds to come together. Lord Davante, you are a warrior, both on the battlefield and off it. What you have done in fighting for equal rights for the lesser fae is admirable. But it also should have been unnecessary. Although I congratulate you on your success in giving the lesser fae a home at the Golden Court”—the emissary swept his hand toward the crowd—“I offer you and your people a home where they can live together with the high fae as true equals. You see, the Diamond Court has never been captured by the prejudices that the High Court has long been beholden to. At the Diamond Court, all stand equal to one another, except the King, of course, to whom all must bend the knee.”
I waited patiently for the emissary to finish his message. “Emissary, you make it seem as though the Diamond Court is a winter wonderland. But isn’t it true that at your court it is those who cannot defend themselves, high fae and lesser fae alike, who are discriminated against?”
“My people are a strong people, Lord Davante, as they must be to live in the north and survive the isolation your King has forced upon me and my people,” the emissary responded.
“Where is the honor in feeding upon those who are small, weak, or infirm?” I pushed.
“At the Diamond Court, power reigns supreme,” the emissary replied. “Those who are less powerful must use their cunning or other resources to protect themselves. At the Diamond Court, principles like equality and personal freedom to act are not sacrificed to prideful and nebulous concepts like honor. I thought perhaps your people were strong enough to understand the sacrifices necessary to live in a world where they would be provided the same opportunities as everyone else to succeed or fail.” The last words were said with clear disdain. “But perhaps I have misjudged.”
“You may tell your King that the people of the Golden Court will be no one’s victims. But neither will we play the bully to another,” I responded.
The emissary gave me a discerning look.
“You have already told him, warrior,” the emissary replied solemnly with a nod of his head.
“May I assume that your honor extends to the privileges of the white flag and that I am free to leave this Court unharmed?”
It could be my overconfidence in how this conversation had gone, but the emissary seemed somehow lesser than he was moments before. His eyes had lost some of their light sparkle, and he seemed to stand a little smaller than he had before.
“You may leave this Court and return to your home in whatever fashion you came. But be warned, emissary, if you are found lingering on this side of the wall, then the terms of the white flag will no longer apply,” I cautioned.
I raised my hand to the nearest server to get their attention. “Please provide this man with food and water for his long journey home.”
“You truly are honorable, my lord,” the emissary said sincerely. “But my journey is not so long that I require such provisions.” The emissary dipped his head in a slight nod to me. He did not acknowledge High Lord Dumont or the Prince during our entire exchange. True to his word, he had delivered a message from the King of Alancia to just me.
And then he disappeared from right where he stood in front of me. Murmurs of shock spread through the hall. The emissary was a traveler, then, just like the Prince. Despite the white flag, it was not lost on me that King Vandros had sent a traveler emissary to my halls as a not-so-subtle reminder of our inability thus far to keep his forces from infiltrating our side of the wall or even my own Court.