Hours passed nightmarishly slowly. The hall felt hot, and Justin could feel himself sweating, his attention kept locked on Ariana. His daughter was gracious enough to dance with him, allowing him to get closer to his wife as she spent her time with the other Lords in the hall, but they were both distracted and hardly moved to the music.
With Ariana so close, Justin felt like someone had thrust a hand into his chest and wrapped iron fingers around his heart. It almost hurt to breathe, and the hall’s light burned his retinas. He saw her dance first with Johan, and looking somewhat nervous and not that appreciative of the Anax’s presence, but she visibly loosened up as the night wore on. Anurak’s dance went better, and after the fifteenth-tier mages had their time, the other Lords swarmed like flies.
Ariana’s anxiety was almost as visible as the jealousy in the other women watching the spectacle of her debut. He could see the tightness around her smile, the tension in her shoulders, the little frequent glances at the floor as she swayed with the music. Still, in his eyes, she was perfect. Graceful. The same couldn’t be said for her partners.
Her current partner, one of the last Lords that had been waiting, was an oaf with two left feet. He was huge and ruggedly handsome, but he knew that Ariana’s tastes weren’t him. She was barely concealing her lack of patience for the Lord after the fifth time he stepped on her foot.
And it showed in the Lord’s expression, having fallen from confidence to the rigid mask of a man who was only proceeding with his current course out of ego, and was only counting the seconds until what he was doing ended.
The music began to wind down, and both Justin and Valeria lightly danced closer to Ariana. There were other retainers of Lords still waiting, but Justin was finished waiting, and it seemed that Valeria’s own patience was running out, too. They locked eyes, their gazes familiar even through their disguises, and without a word, Valeria released him and made her way back toward Leon. No one got in her way, though Justin was certain that was due to the plain appearance and plainer aura that her disguise gave her, as if she wore her true face, then she would’ve been an equal draw to Ariana—had she not been married, of course.
Justin spared his daughter one last look before focusing on the matter at hand. Valeria hadn’t needed to say anything, after all, for he was determined to seize this opportunity with both hands, and reclaim his wife.
He could already see it. A smile, perhaps a few whispered words. Revealing how much he knew about her just from watching her dance. A request to meet, a private rendezvous, and an escape through the palace’s secret tunnels. He could see that Leon’s Paladins had already returned to the hall, and they were all patiently waiting for him, for her. Their escape was undoubtedly ready.
As the music ceased and Ariana allowed her hands to fall from her current partner, Justin had a flash of hatred as her partner delayed releasing her for a fraction of a second. He imagined swooping in to defend her honor, slapping the other man until his teeth bounced across the floor, and then taking Ariana’s hand and running—
The Lord released her and looked almost grateful that his embarrassment was at an end. Justin, already moving, beat everyone else to the star of the dance.
“My Lady,” he said as he made his presence known. Ariana practically jumped out of her skin as she turned to him, hints of fatigue still evident if one knew where to look—which Justin did.
“Ah,” she exclaimed, the expression coming light and lady-like. “I almost missed you there, Lord…?”
“No Lord,” he said. “Just a humble man hoping that you might grace him with a dance.”
“There are limits to humility,” she replied, her smile tightening. “I would like to have your name, at least.”
Justin opened his mouth, fully ready to identify himself to her so that they could immediately plan their escape. But good sense won out, and though he stumbled in the first syllable, he gave her his assumed name. “N-Nathaniel. Of Antiochus.”
An important name to him. It was the name he’d wanted to give their child, if it had been a boy—named in honor of a legendary hero who almost certainly didn’t exist, one who acquired great wealth and performed many valiant deeds through strength and cunning. He recalled that such stories had been Ariana’s favorites during their courtship. They’d even recreated a scene from one of the stories where the heroic Nathaniel had infiltrated the castle of an evil monster to free the Princess trapped within.
He had to stifle a grin at that particular memory, but it was easier after he reminded himself of the aftermath. It had been one of the last days that he’d been able to see Ariana before he was caught. It was also entirely possible that Valeria had been conceived on that day.
Interest flickered in Ariana’s eyes. “I was hoping to take a break, Nathaniel. Would you be so kind as to escort me?”
“For you, I would be willing to brave the Aesii themselves,” Justin said, dialing up the romance in the way that he knew she liked. He took her hand, the digits stiffening in his grip, but he made a show of bringing her hand up and brushing his fingers against her knuckles.
“Watch yourself, peasant,” one of the nearby Lords growled.
“It’s fine!” Ariana immediately insisted, her cheeks flushed, a truly unabashed smile now threatening to break out across her face. Two words from a blushing eleventh-tier, and Justin was amused to see the Lord back down without another word—though his glare certainly lingered.
Justin, ignoring the Lord, straightened up and offered Ariana his arm. She lightly took it, and he hoped she couldn’t feel his racing pulse. Or, maybe he did, if only to tell her that he was nervous as he could tell she was.
“Thank you,” Ariana quietly whispered as Justin led her off the dance floor, the rest of the crowd unhappily moving out of their way.
“Anything for you, my Lady,” Justin replied as he gave her his best, most glowing smile. The effect was surely diminished by the face he wore, but he hoped she could see him in it in the same way that he could read her like an open book.
The universe, however, seemed keen on spiting him, as almost the moment he turned to smile, she turned away, her head turning toward the closest seafood table. Justin swallowed the lump in his throat and led her in that direction.
“Did they bring out any…?” Ariana softly wondered before her fingers tightened around his elbow. “They did!” She smiled more brightly than the Origin Spark and released Justin’s arm to take a needle-thin wooden skewer, a heavenly scent wafting from the pieces of fish and aromatic herbs between them. “I hope this doesn’t ruin my image,” she said as she took a dainty bite from a piece of fish. “But I just can’t help myself…” A dreamy smile wove its way across her lips, and Justin was so captivated that he could barely respond before the silence became awkward.
“I-I don’t mind. No one, and especially not a woman as beautiful as you, should be afraid to show their joy.”
She swallowed, her smile hardly twitching. “Flatterer.”
“Flattery is empty,” Justin replied, using one of the lines that he’d been rehearsing for years, hoping against hope that he would finally see her again. He barely managed to steady his voice enough to not ruin the delivery. “I only speak the truth.”
Ariana paused a moment, something crossing her face for the smallest fraction of a second, and Justin’s heart soared. Like little breadcrumbs, he was leading her to the conclusion that he’d planned. He couldn’t just whisper his name into her ear, as much as he wanted to. No, he needed her to realize it without him directly stating it. So, he’d prepared himself as much as he could. He’d been lucky that he’d chosen a name with meaning that they both recognized, and now he spoke as he had in their first secret courtship.
“Tell me about yourself, Nathaniel,” Ariana said, now focusing almost entirely on Justin. The only shred of attention she spared was for the skewer she still delicately picked at. He felt the full weight of her dark gaze, all of it wrapping around him like her arms, while the attention he was getting from everyone else seemed to melt away. “I’m curious about who you are, my silver-tongued suitor…”
“Who am I?” Justin whispered, wishing with all his heart that he could openly take her hand. “I am a man from Antiochus, who rose through the ranks of the bureaucracy, but who had to leave for a grave mistake.”
Ariana stopped nibbling at the skewer, and regarded him fully. Her tone shifting, she asked, “You worked here?”
He nodded.
“In this palace?”
He nodded again.
“And your mistake? What was it?”
“Love.”
“Love? Your mistake was love?”
“Love on its own is never a mistake. But I fell in love with a woman far above my station, and when the nature of my heart was discovered, I was forced to leave…”
She set aside the partially-eaten skewer. Her voice dropped so low that Justin could barely hear her. Even those Lords would struggle to hear her words over the music and general din of the hall. “Have we met before, Nathaniel?”
“Once,” Justin admitted just as softly as she did. “By accident. I apologized immediately.” He paused, then began to recite a passage from one of their favorite stories. “From the moment I met you, you had my heart in your hands. I was yours entirely. Say but one word…”
Half a line remained. He wondered if she would finish it.
“… and you will sweep me away?” There was a tremor in her voice. Excitement, perhaps? Or fear. She had gone rigidly still, so much so that Justin could no longer see through her body language.
“If you but say the word,” Justin said, his entire body thrumming with nervous energy, terror and determination warring within him for dominance as he continued the passage. “Though no man of great means, I would love you and make you my wife. You would want for nothing, and together…”
She didn’t finish the next line verbatim according to their stories, but she still whispered, “… Children?”
Justin finally deviated from the script. “I hope a girl to start. ‘Valeria’, we could call her…”
Ariana stumbled, and Justin’s heart nearly stopped. His hands went to her shoulders, though she’d already started to right herself before he did so. It still drew attention, and it took a silent moment standing there at the table before Ariana moved again.
She took his arm and steered him further toward the edge of the hall. There, only the slaves might have heard them, but none were mages of great power, and when Ariana spoke, she did so softly that they’d never be able to hear her words.
“Who are you?!” she demanded again, her voice almost rising too loudly.
“A man who loves you,” Justin said tenderly, his eyes burning until his vision swam. He thought she was looking back at him in wonder, but after rapidly blinking away the wetness, she had donned a stoic mask. “There is a place beneath the ninety-second tower. You know it.”
Her breath hitched. She nodded.
“Let us meet there, as we did so many years ago. I will bring a handful of others with me. They have helped me reach this place. One of them…” His eyes flickered in Valeria’s direction, making contact with his daughter who was watching them like a hawk.
“Speak no more!” Ariana bid him. She pulled away, and it took all the self-control he possessed not to try and catch her hands. But she paused for a moment. “The ninety-second tower?”
“Yes,” Justin croaked.
“I remember the place,” she confirmed. Without another word, she began walking away, and Justin felt like she’d ripped his heart clean out. His breath was short, but in the metaphoric hole in his chest, he could feel hope taking root.
‘I need to get to that chamber beneath the tower…’ he thought as he summoned all of his strength to look away from Ariana’s retreating form, her back stiff, her aura fluctuating wildly. The way there would be through the palace’s secret passages. He hoped that Leon’s Paladins had found an open way in…
---
‘Kyron, son of Inilos, of Antiochus…’ The name wouldn’t have meant anything to Kamran before the day began, and it didn’t mean much now, but the conversation with the man lingered in his mind. It was rare for men to push back on his ideas, given his power, and Kamran had to admit that on some level, it was refreshing.
It was also utterly infuriating. Had they been anywhere else other than his daughter’s debut, he would more likely than not have had Kyron put in chains, himself.
But as he took a seat at the small round table that dominated this intimate room, only a couple other high-backed chairs arranged around it, he forced the man from his mind. He’d have Kyron looked into later, but for the moment, he had more important business to handle.
The first of his guests arrived, showing both his eagerness to get down to their true business as well as his distaste for dancing—Johan, sans any of his retainers, entered the room, and wordlessly sat to Kamran’s right. He leaned back with a quiet smirk, as if he were in control of the room rather than Kamran despite this room being almost in the heart of Kamran’s palace.
Moments later, Anurak followed, entering like he was on a parade ground. He sat on Kamran’s left. Once comfortable, Johan immediately spoke.
“A nice debut that was. A good girl, too. But hardly worth our attentions—or yours, given how Halbast and Auset have been running roughshod over your planes, Kamran.” His accent as rough, but perfectly understandable. Even if it weren’t, the mocking smirk was enough to get Kamran’s blood boiling.
“There have been some… minor setbacks,” Kamran set up, but before he could continue, Johan cut in.
“I’ve heard they’re more than just setbacks. Whole planar clusters, some of them inhabited since Khosrow’s time, given to ruin and desolation. I’ve never taken you for a stupid man, Kamran, but in the past millennium, you have not impressed.”
“And you believe that I’m trying to impress you?” Kamran sharply retorted.
“Yes,” Johan returned, equally as sharp. “We all know what you want. The crown. Storm King, you would have us call you. But you can’t do so on your own. So you either want to impress us, or you’re stupid—and as I said, I don’t believe you’re stupid.” Johan shared a smirk with Anurak, but the other Anax didn’t respond. He did, however, stare pointedly at Kamran, patiently awaiting his response.
Kamran’s gut twisted. He wished he could’ve called up other allies—he had quite a few. But to claim Lordship over the Storm Lords, especially against a rival claimant, then he’d have to rely only on his power within the Storm Lands. He could not be seen as having been placed in the position by anyone from outside the Storm Lands, even if Anushirawan or Akeron could aid him with fewer strings attached then either Anurak or Johan.
“Fine,” he hissed. “You know what I want. You both know what I’m going to ask of you. Before we begin negotiations… where do you currently stand?”
“I stand wherever I please,” Johan said. “And it wouldn’t please me to stand with a man who makes war so easily. I had thought you better than you’ve been recently, Kamran… I’ve heard that you’ve been fighting out in the planes since long before your war with Halbast, and yet your Kingdom has shown no sign of new resources? And a disastrous war with the Dragon Federation a few centuries ago? Perhaps you wouldn’t now be asking us for aid, tin outstretched, if they had not so bloodily turned you away from Arushae’s shores…”
It had been a long time since Kamran had wanted to strangle a man so much as he wanted to squeeze Johan’s neck until his head popped like a grape.
“I have… similar concerns,” Anurak said, drawing Kamran’s attention before he could launch himself across the table at Johan. “But I also know that you liberated us from the Thunderbird Clan. I held great hatred for them, and sharply expressed as much to many of their Clansmen that I captured after the last Reconstitution. Without you, that would have been impossible.”
“Would you accept me as your Storm King?” Kamran asked.
“With some concessions,” Anurak said.
“Make that ‘many’,” Johan grumbled.
“Let’s hear them, then,” Kamran all but ordered.
Johan went first, almost buzzing with desire to lay out his terms. “All of Halbast and Auset’s territory in the Great Strand of Seikilos.”
Kamran suppressed a snort of disbelief. The Great Strand of Seikilos was one of the most densely populated out in the planes, and one of the most stable. Both of the Anakes warring against him had considerable holdings out there, and giving them to Johan would catapult him into being the second most powerful man in the Storm Lands, following he who wore the crown of the Storm Lands.
“Aaaand,” Johan continued, “the hand of that pretty girl.”
“You are already married,” Kamran growled.
“I have many wives,” Johan confirmed. “You called me here and paraded that girl before me, even knowing that I have a harem worthy of my position. You should not have done that if you did not want that girl to be mine.”
Almost blind with anger, Kamran shifted his gaze again to Anurak.
“I will also require territorial concessions,” Anurak gravely intoned. “Kypros. And others.”
Kamran balked, and his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when Anurak continued with his list of demanded planes.
When he was finished, Kamran shook with anger and humiliation—the former because, for this alliance, Anurak wanted nearly a quarter of Kamran’s most productive planes, and the latter because Kamran found himself in this position in the first place.
“Those are… certainly demands…” he hissed. Then, he smiled. As great as those demands were, as insulted and humiliated by them he was, they were still only the opening positions of his fellow Anakes.
Now, it was time to negotiate, to bring their demands to a more reasonable level, and when he was finished, he knew that he would have two fifteenth-tier mages and all their fleets fighting at his side against Halbast and Auset. The two would be turned back, Kamran would finally find himself in a dominant position in the Storm Lands, and he would finally be able to claim the title he coveted more than any other.
He would become the Storm King.
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