Capítulo 3: ~Future High Queen~
The evening shadows of dusk fall on the iron gates of the Regnum of Valwa. As per usual, the maidservants have been slaughtering away in the kitchen, preparing choice food. By the time my family and I are beckoned to dine. The elongated table of furnished wood is laden with silver platters.
Father walks in first, mother struts behind him at his righthand. Never at his side. Routinely they riven off and they both claim a seat at the head of the twelve-seater table. Seliah and I sit directly at the centre, opposite each other.
The architecture of the dining hall is probably my most preferred, besides that it is a special allocated time to eat. I most admire the design of the room; the blue velvety walls embossed with golden artistry, a simple yet elegant candle chandelier that looms above. Standing candelabras in every corner to stave off the darkness that grows in strength as the light of time diminishes.
Every bronze plate is accompanied with a complex array of utensils and a chalice for wine. Two maidservants come in from the archway that connects to the main kitchen. Separately, they both tend to the Domus and Domina, filling their cups and cutting thin slices of roasted meat for them. Whereas Seliah and I prefer to assist ourselves, we have hands and choose to use them.
Now that I think of it, the distance that parts us at dinner is one that takes form in true life. I love my father and he loves me. A formal relationship between father and child. I respect the fact that he has accepted me as I am and not scorned me for what I should have been. A man. A true heir and inheritor of the Valwa line.
Mother on the hand has always reminded me of such. I am Hera and I am to look and behave in a way that a noblewoman ought to. Every discussion revolves around it, but despite it, I can sense her care for me. That is the only way a Hera, a woman like me, can attain a good life. By marrying into it. She knows because that is what she had to do.
Seliah relationship between our father and my mother. Well. That is an entirely different dynamic.
My chain of thought is struck the moment I see Burg stride into the room, with his nose aimed at the chandelier, and a glossy blue euro pillow in his one hand, the other is fisted behind his back. A royal scroll rests in the centre along with father's reading glasses.
He makes his way to him and delivers the parchment. Father unfurls the scroll and holds it above his plate, then picks up his reading glasses by the end of the long rod. He examines the top and uses his reading glasses like a magnify glass, swaying it in the needed direction.
I watch closely at the transformation of emotions on his face. From a pensive study to a look of sheer astonishment. And now, his thick eyebrows raise to dangerous heights.
"By the grace of the Almighty…" he murmurs, almost inaudible, only comprehended because he only says that phrase when awful news has befallen him.
It seems my sister's curiosity is contagious and dictates the will of my words, because I say, "May I see the decree?"
At a loss of words, too stunned to chide my request. He plants the parchment and his glasses back on the pillow. He flicks a hand of approval in my direction. Burg then rounds my father and makes his way to me.
Burg has been with me longer than I can remember, longer than Pinta. He was always like an older relative to me than a Regnum servant. Only in the Domus and Domino's presence is everything cold, unreceptive, and fairly too formal.
He lowers the pillow and I thank him with a smile.
I take it and skim over it. And now I understand my father's bafflement. By his order. I read the decree aloud.
By the sovereign words of our most High King. Let the realm know and all nine provinces mourn the death of his scion. The Dophan Alejendio, the second, has perished from his long-term illness. With no other heirs to be prospective successors. The High King has agreed to comply to the ancient protocols of Shalem. To initiate the King Trials. Every eldest descendant of a Domus, one of pure blood must be sent to the Pantheon by the second equinox. All nine candidates will be bestowed the honour, the chance to be the next high ruler of Urium. Nine contestants, but only one is true. May only the worthy rule.
Ragnul gruffuard.
Authorised by the hand of His Majesty
High King Urus-el Kempavos.
Long Live the High King.
Only realising now that my eyes sear with pain, I blink a few flutters of relief.
I look up with rounded eyes and hand back the parchment to Burg. Promptly, he abandons my side. I glance at Seliah and her eyes have swelled to such a size, it seems her sockets are too small to contain her surprise.
"Father…"
Without needing anything more from me, he explains, "The ancient protocol of Shalem was founded thousands of years back, the only way that could change the line of succession. Many Domuses in the Decuria saw it as their chance. If His Majesty failed to produce enough heirs, not adequate, or they were assassinated. Their sons could stand a chance of being the next High Hing, the one who wins the King Trials."
I give him an imploring look, urging for him to expound further.
"The King Trials will be conceived by the current High King, a set of trials and tests that the candidates will undergo for the High king to search out the worthy amongst the nine. With tests that he chooses, and he deems fit, that will show a worthiness of one able to rule the realm."
With the epidemic of the ovarian disease, an endocrine disorder that impacts the reproductive system of a woman, thus impairs her ability to produce heirs and secure her line. The surge was many moons ago, but its effects ripple still. My mother was one of many victims. The plague taught us that misfortune does not discriminate between a pauper and a prince. Which is why I am the only living pureblood in Regnum Valwa.
Expectedly, mother thuds an enthused clap and her excitement echoes. Her beige honeyed hair wrapped up in two layers above her head, adorned with laps of jewels.
"You know what this means," she says, staring directly at father. "If Aurora is chosen, which she will, because she is our daughter and who is more worthy than she? Our daughter no longer needs to wed, she will be a queen, the High Queen in her own right and have the power to author her own future."
"To compete in the King Trials," I challenge. "I know I am the sole descendant, but I am certain that they implied that only the eldest son of a Domus can be eligible."
She laughs politely. "The decree never expressed that it has to be a son, only that it is to be the eldest. The arrogant chumps wrote that in a time where a man's vitality was shown in the number of sons he fathered. That was a time where men had twelve sons. But now, because of—" Her resolve falters. "Well, the times have changed."
"Merely one thing then," I point out. "I am not the eldest."
Mother lets out a grotesque sound like she drank a bitter elixir. "Do not speak of the bastard. The High King has called for pures, not ones with tainted mongrel blood in their veins."
"Lora!" Father rebukes, his voice like the rumble of the obsidian mountain. "That is enough."
Seliah remains uncharacteristically quiet, and it is clear why.
You see, my older sister is a half-blood. She is half me and half foreign.
The diseases that had all human woman plagued; it did not affect other female species in different provinces. Cycles ago, father's desperation reached a peak. He did not stray from my mother because of a lack of love for her, but love for his Regnum. He needed a son. So he laid with a maiden on his travels to convene with the Decuria.
So you see. She's half me and Half Autherine.
Without the gift. But she has the looks. That is why her one eye is the shade of the ocean like mine and her other is dark like the crepuscule of night.
Instead of a son, he was given another daughter. He didn't resent fate's verdict. By everyone's surprise he took Seliah in and claimed her as his own, and had her legitimised. By law, she is no longer a bastard but my mother refuses to see her anyway else. To her, Seliah's presence is disrespectful and a harrowing reminder of her failure as a Domina.
A heart-wrenching embodiment of our father's betrayal.
In Urium, being a noble or a royal in the realm. Love is often eclipsed by duty.
"Your mother is right," fathers says flatly. "This is your chance to not only have a life set on your own terms, and rule with a wisdom and kindness that you have inherited. But you also raise the Valwa's standing in the realm for eternity. A Regnum that bore a High Queen. The first ever, it will be etched in history."
Seliah finally voices her thoughts. "But the second equinox is near their summer solstice, which is only…days from now."
Father nods serenely.
I lean back in my seat and lightly touch my temples, unable to grasp the news. My hands fall to my lap and my gaze follows. "Father… even if. I do not think I am worthy to rule, rule all nine provinces under my own will." A shuddering breath escapes me.
"That is for the High King to decide, his word is law and he has decreed all purebloods to gather in his dominion to begin the King Trials." He rests back in his seat and lays his elbows on the arms of the chair. "Perhaps this is what the realm needs to unify the provinces. A queen."
His staunch belief in me reverberated in his tenor. I look up at him. Confidence bold in his eyes.
I heave the words out by their ends. "I will not fail you, father. I will bring honour to Regnum Valwa."
He smiles and slides forward to haul up his chalice. "I know."
He raises the chalice in salute. We all obey and do the same.
"To the future High Queen of Urium," he declares.
"Long may you reign."
— Un nuevo capítulo llegará pronto — Escribe una reseña
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder