Empress Adirn Part 3: Audience with Intent
Dawn broke over The City of Torment. In most empires this is simply a metaphor for the night finally being pierced by sunlight, but in the Onyx Empire dawn really was broken. Horizon's Bane, the spitefully erected horizontal tower, covered the Sun's first tentative rays and delayed events right off the bat. Then there was the way that many buildings and cobblestones were clad in deep matte black render, so that they drank in the light without ever showing anything for it. That particular design choice also made it distinctly difficult to tell whether or not there was an open drain where one was about to place their foot. There wasn't even a rooster to crow that morning had arrived and signal a break in clandestine nocturnal subterfuge until the following dusk. Instead, a murder of crows had been trained to screech and caw at first light. It was all just broken.
Adirn woke with a start to the corvid cacophony. It seemed to come from around her head on all sides, funnelling into her ears with a metallic reverberation. Not even burying her head beneath the countless imperial pillows, the contents of which the empress refused to speculate on, could dampen the chorus to acceptable levels. Bed was compromised. She had to leave it.
"If this is how my days are to start then I welcome beheading." She grumbled to herself, swinging her legs out of the covers and into the cool morning air. At least, she assumed from the crows that it was morning; her bed chamber was engulfed in complete darkness, like the blackest recess of a subterranean cave system whilst viewed from inside a sack. Although she had her objections to the heavily fuliginous nature of the palace, heavy blackout blinds and matte furnishings did make for a satisfyingly dark bedroom.
Bare feet touched down onto thick pile and nestled themselves among the surprisingly pleasant goat-hair fibres as the empress tried to remember the layout of the room. Normally she wouldn’t have worried so much, because a probing arm and cautious steps could safeguard her against any kind of toe-stubbing or head-bumping incidents. In the case of the imperial bedchamber, however, the panoply of horns, antlers, jagged edges and generally non-toddler-safe objects made blind navigation an exercise fraught with peril.
A bedside table stood to her left side, somewhere between where her legs were and the wall. Other than that, she thought to herself, there were no other obstructions immediately adjacent to the bed. A large writing desk was pressed against the far wall, beyond the foot of the bed, she remembered. At least, she had assumed it was a writing desk at first glance. Now that she faced the possibility of bumping into it, and knowing more than ever about the emprie, she started to wonder if that assumption had been naïve. Regardless, she needed to extract herself from the bedroom and gain some respite from the song of crows, who had been heralding the dawn for nearly a minute by that stage and showed no signs of slowing down. The almighty need to urinate was also a great motivator. No empress should have to use a chamber pot, especially whilst harangued by carrion birds, and so the path to the privy was the only path for Adirn.
Pondering could only get her so far, so eventually she risked it. With the slow and unbalanced movements of the rudely awaked Adirn staggered to her feet. Stooping slightly to keep one hand on the bed at all times, she began to shimmy her way around the chamber towards where she believed the door to be. A mere couple of steps in, her forehead collided hard with a sculpted wooden outcropping.
“Ow! Gah!” She exclaimed, rubbing at the space above her right eye. “What was that?”
Just too late, as all lessons learned by experience are, she remembered that she now slept in a four-poster bed, one with decadent gargoyles carved into the upper frame at head level. A fist was clenched in frustration and at the searing pain in her head, both from the collision and from the blasted crows that still wouldn’t shut up. If the designer of the bed was still known then Adirn resolved to slap the teeth clean out of their head, and she wasn’t above exhuming them to do it if they’d passed on. Picturing the satisfaction on her own face when she wrought her revenge, Adirn stepped away from the bed to continue her gradual journey. After rounding the bed’s corner she should have been facing roughly towards the door, by her estimations, and then everything would temporarily get marginally better.
Across the floor-line, or where she suspected it should be in the darkness, Adirn scanned her vision for the tell-tale sign of light leaking under a doorway, but found nothing; so much for that plan of action. Instead, she scoured her memory of the room one last time to recall the locations of any other ornaments, furnishings or other detritus. Finding nothing over which to be concerned, she crossed the room. One hand touched cold stone; she’d found a wall. That was a good start, but not quite a door. Her other hand tentatively joined in, and together they brushed along the large blocks, searching for a wooden frame that marked her exit. After only a handful of paintings, presumably priceless, had been knocked to the floor by Adirn’s blind fumbling she managed to locate what felt like a door in the pitch black bed chamber. Further minor exploration led to the discovery of a handle and the promise of urinary-relief to come. She pushed the handle down and pulled the door open.
Faint light suffused the hallway, barely making it past Horizon’s Bane and into the rest of the palace but still strong enough to dazzle Adirn as she left the sensory deprivation chamber. Quickly she slammed the door closed behind herself, to shut away the racket of the crows, and allowed the peace to wash back over her.
“Oh! Your eminence!” Came a shocked voice to one side. Adirn leapt bodily away and bumped the back of her head on a wall sconce.
“Ouch!” She yelped.
“My apologies your eminence, I didn’t realise you were awake.”
Staring back at her through the gloom was grimacing, snarling face that exposed murderous fangs and sharp teeth. It also glimmered in what little light penetrated the hallway. Now that she had the chance to start thinking about it, the voice did have a slightly hollow and obstructed quality to it.
"Should I fetch the hand-servants for you, your eminence?"
"What? Oh, no. Thank you. Why are wearing that mask? It's terrifying!" That kind of fright was quite the opposite of what Adirn's fragile bladder situation needed.
"I... I'm part of the night watch, your eminence. This is our uniform." He told her nervously from behind the silvered mask. Every scowling line across its surface attempted to undermine the sincere humility in the guard's voice.
"Not anymore. They're horrible. I'll speak to Captain Toxis about it. Now I really must make my way to the privy, excuse me."
"Should I fetch a privy-maid?" The guard called after her as she scurried along the hall.
"Never!" She instructed. That instruction couldn't possibly be made too clear.
Despite the privy being carved into the shape of a wolf's snarling jaws, and all of the associated tooth-based scratching risks, Adirn exited the small room feeling a significant amount better. Dawn sunlight was working hard to overcome the spiteful architecture of the Imperial Palace and nobody else had ambushed her in a metal death mask. With the kind of calmly realigned perspective that only a newly emptied bladder can provide, Adirn began to turn her mind over to ruling an empire.
She supposed that, at some point, she would need to summon her advisors and learn what business needed her attention that day. Presumably there would be a tide of nobles begging for things or vying for her favour, or a hundred economic issues of the sort that arise when a nation's entire workforce is systematically hanged for no clear reason. At least she'd managed to start the process of quelling that particular avenue of horror, and as far as she could tell neither Lady Vipus nor Count Rott had sent an assassin for her in the night. Things weren't looking too bad, relatively speaking.
Outside her room , the same guard was still standing to attention in his unsettling facial-wear.
"Please take that mask off."
"Of... of course your eminence." He said, audibly swallowing. "I hope that my execution for breaching uniform codes is swift."
Underneath the mask Adirn saw a middle-aged man who was putting a brave face on his impending doom.
"You are not to be executed for following my orders. If anyone tries then you're to send them to me first, and I'll set them straight." She reassured him.
"Yes, your eminence." He said, saluting. "What am I to do with this mask?"
Adirn looked at the metal faceplate in his hands and resisted the urge to give him a withering look.
"I'll take it as a memento of the good things I'm trying to achieve."
Nothing was more obvious to Adirn than the fact that the guard had no idea what she was talking about, but he handed the mask over regardless.
"Thank you." She said, pushing open the door to her pitch black bed chamber. "Do you happen to know where exactly the curtains are?"
Another impressively blank expression crossed the man's face. It was as if years of wearing a mask had robbed him of any instinct or need to show emotions.
"I'll take that as a no."
"The house-staff normally deal with that sort of thing, your eminence. You can summon them with the bell-pull by your bed."
Adirn considered it briefly.
"No, they'll probably think I'm sending for somebody to whip or a body to cast from my window for having the petulance to possess blood or something. I can't deal with that sort of trauma this early in the morning. I'll find the curtains myself."
"Yes, your eminence."
It was no difficult task to leave the door open for what little light was available in the hallway, thanks to the impressive depth of her goat-hair carpet. Only a few feet of the room seemed to catch any kind of illumination, but it made Adirn feel better to at least be trying to make life easier for herself.
Arms raised ahead of her like the living dead, something that she assumed a vast portion of the empire was trying to raise, the empress tentatively shuffled across the bed chamber again. It took a few minutes of false starts and nervous fumbling with sharp furniture, but the soft velvet curtains eventually came into her hands and she hauled them to one side with triumphant elation. The subsequent tearing sound and bundle of fabric in her hands put a prompt stop to that kind of positivity.
"Oh, goodness."
"Good morning, your eminence. I see that you've chosen to tear your curtains off the rail." Observed Katherine, standing in the doorway with a distinctly unimpressed expression. "I had hoped that your destructive tendencies would stop short of vandalism, but here we are."
"It was an accident, Mistress of the Records."
"Yes. I can't count the number of times I've been innocently waking from my slumber and proceeded to inadvertently rip the curtains away from the window, quite blamelessly. Is the rest of the chamber to your liking, or should I fetch a warhammer from the armoury with which you can have further accidents whilst dressing? Perhaps you should be supervised whilst signing the declaration you asked me to write yesterday, just in case you accidentally set the grain silo ablaze in the process."
Silently, Adirn folded the curtain and placed it neatly on the bed.
"I'm sure that someone can put it back up today. It won't have done any irreparable damage, will it?"
"Not more than normal for your short yet devastating reign."
Adirn looked at the carpet and drew a deep breath. Katherine had a lifetime of experience at pushing buttons, and Adirn's had always been some of her favourites.
"Am I to sign this declaration now?"
"Traditionally speaking we wait until the empress is not in her nightgown to conduct matters of state. It wouldn't be modest of you to sit with the council dressed as you are, nor would they appreciate arriving at dawn without having broken their fast."
"A 'no' would have been sufficient, Katherine."
"When you're the one listening to it I find that experience dictates otherwise, your eminence."
"Fine.” Adirn said with a sigh. “Did you come up here for a reason then?"
"I couldn't help but hear you dismantling the traditional night watch uniform that has stood for seven hundred years, and feared what else you might have been doing when left unattended. I seem to have found myself justified in doing so." She looked pointedly at the curtains on the bed, although with what was closer to a beak than a nose on her face, every look Katherine gave was fairly pointed.
"The masks are just as bad as the robes in the skull chamber. Just look at the trouble they caused the grand priestess yesterday! She could have suffocated." Maybe we'll be luckier next time, she added to herself.
"Of course, your eminence. How could hundreds of years of tradition and dozens of predecessors possibly know better than your one day of experience."
Adirn pinched the bridge of her nose. The pulling on her skin gave her a sharp reminder of the bump on her head from earlier. Baroness Heletrick would never have had to put up with this from the Mistress of Records. She'd have everyone under control by now. Then again, now that Adirn came to think about it, the baroness did often take pride in the size and scope of her dungeons, as well as the number of prisoners she kept at any one time. The lens of hindsight made the empress consider that the baroness would not have been a great choice of ruler after all.
"Regardless of your opinions on my actions to date-"
"Low." Katherine interrupted, for the avoidance of doubt.
"- I would appreciate being able to sign that declaration into law today. Will that be possible?"
"Yes, your eminence. The dark council may be convened in the Skull Chamber at your convenience and the declaration signed with witnesses as the law dictates."
"Do I really have to climb all those steps again?"
The look on Katherine's face informed Adirn that yes, she most certainly did.
"Fine, that's not a problem. Once that's done then... erm... well to be honest I'm not sure what I'm meant to do with my days. Are there audiences to hold? Decisions to make? Or can I get on deciding more legislation?"
"Well I never! You're actually asking for advice! Yes your eminence, all of these matters demand your attention. A new empress, especially one who is making such a name for herself, is always the subject of much focus."
Adirn sighed.
"These things must be done I suppose. What should normally happen first?"
"Audiences generally occur first. Then you can sit with your advisors and make decisions based on those audiences, since you'll be armed with a knowledge of which ancient demon to try to resurrect, which village to burn for petulance, which cherished superstition to outlaw and so forth."
The empress' eyes widened briefly with horror, before she chastised herself for still being shocked about any of those things. She considered fervently denying that any of them would be taking place under her reign, but the inevitable argument didn't seem worth it. It'd be obvious soon enough.
"Right. I suppose I need to get dressed and eat something then." It occurred suddenly to Adirn that she’d neglected to eat anything after her coronation the previous afternoon, and her sense of hunger began to give her a stern talking-to on the matter.
"Usually that is what happens, yes. If you were to ring for your house staff rather than just making a racket in the halls then these things would all go on quite seamlessly around you."
"Alright, alright. I'll see you in the audience chamber then?"
"Yes, your eminence. If you're looking."
Katherine shuffled herself away to prepare for more overt disapproval, and Adirn finally gave into needing to ring the bell for the staff.
Just as she’d feared, the house staff had arrived in a state of numb panic. The first summoning by a new ruler was too great of an unknown to greet with confidence or optimism, and so Adirn had been forced to patiently explain that she just wished for help working out where everything was, and some breakfast to be prepared. There was also a great amount of reassurance that no-one would be punished for the destruction of the imperial curtains, which was eventually tentatively accepted as an intention, if not quite a fact.
“I will need somebody to show me to the breakfast room, please, once I’m dressed.”
“Certainly, your eminence. It would be my pleasure to show you the way after dressing.” Gwen told the empress, with her face stretched into a joyless, pained grin.
“Thank you then, everyone. You may get started.” Adirn permitted. Once the other servants had filtered away she added “You’ve been practicing happiness, I see.” It was all that she could manage by way of positive reinforcement. If anything was going to put her off her breakfast, it was that misguided attempt at smiling.
“Of course, your eminence. A command once issued is our only cause in life.” Gwen said solemnly.
“Goodness. I’m tempted never to issue another command in that case.”
“... then… you wish for my life to have no cause?” Gwen whimpered.
“Oh for… please stop taking my words in the worst way you can think of! I mean that your life should have more purpose than simply following commands from a ruler. You are still a person, are you not?”
Gwen’s face scrunched up in thought for a few moments.
“I am less than a person, your eminence.” She decided. “As per the wisdom passed from rulers gone by.”
“Well forget that wisdom. I’m the new ruler and I say that you’re a person.” She declared with finality. She could hear Katherine’s voice in her head, tutting at the destruction of a centuries-old injustice against humanity.
“Yes, your eminence. Thank you your eminence. Have you chosen your attire for the day?” Gwen asked, changing the subject with all the subtlety of an executioner at a chopping block.
Adirn looked again at the selection presented to her. A dress rail had been wheeled from some compartment accessed through the back of the wardrobe, the bed have been covered in neatly folded garments of various descriptions, and chests of drawers had been opened up to display manifold small items and accessories. The whole spectrum of Imperial colours was represented; all three of them. There were jet blacks, emerald greens, and deep violets, all embroidered with crests and atrocities in golden thread, and skulls affixed wherever a skull might reasonably, or unreasonably, be able to fit.
Whalebone corsets constricted the waists of nearly every dress on the rail, concertinaing the fabric into a ring no wider than Adirn’s unimpressive bicep. Although undoubtedly another tradition that had been passed down from each generation of empress to the next, the new empress didn’t feel that breaking a rib and spending the day in agony would help anything. Her experiences in the coronation gown had confirmed that for her quite neatly, so the dresses were largely out of the running.
Turning her attentions instead to the doublets, she saw that they were similarly ambitious in their estimations of the dimensions of the empress’ torso. Simultaneously they expected her to be a walking skeleton but also capable of carrying several sizeable chunks of metal, stone or glass shaped into human skulls, or parts thereof. The trousers, too, suffered from these delusions. Either they were going to stretch to four times their diameter when pulled onto a body, or Adirn would need to have several pairs darned together in order to be even slightly biologically feasible. Despite the huge lack of fabric available to the tailors at the time of these trousers’ creation, since that was the only explanation as to why they were made in the dimensions of piece of string, there had still been enough space to suspend skulls on chains, vipers, and blood-drop gems from every available surface. It was a wonder that the room didn’t rattle with all of the bejewelled clothing hidden away in storage spaces unseen.
Adirn exhaled unenthusiastically.
“Do you think you could find me the least impractical among these items? Perhaps the dresses which won’t try to force my guts out through my pelvis, the doublets which have a hope of being fastened, and whichever of the trousers that don’t need to be painted directly onto my legs?”
“Why… your eminence you would certainly fit all of these clothes trivially for you are the image of perfection.” Gwen appraised, diplomatically.
“Great. But if you could put the flattery to one side and use your eyes to asses my actual size compared to these doll’s clothes, then that would be hugely appreciated. I have no qualms about my shape, but I do have concerns that it doesn’t match what the tailor of these clothes thought humans look like.”
Gwen wrung her hands and looked at the clothes around her. It felt like another of the inescapable traps that old rulers had enjoyed laying, but the new empress had kept to her word so far. Granted that was only one evening and a few minutes of the next morning, but it still represented a lot more honesty than anyone before her. There had to be a relatively safe bet with which to test the waters.
“I… erm… I believe that this would be too small.” Gwen said, lifting a dress that had clearly been made for the children of a previous ruler.
“Astutely observed, Gwen. Good work.”
The maid pondered over the feedback, wondering if it had been purely sarcastic. She sifted along the rack as she thought, and discarded a few more children’s garments. The empress herself was also sorting through clothing, rather than preparing to deliver a devastating coup de grace, and so there really didn’t seem to be anything to fear from her words.
“This, too, is not to your liking?” She asked, holding a much longer dress with an even narrower waist, thanks to the whalebones.
“Correct. As you can see, my ribcage would not fit comfortably into that fabric prison. At least, not while I’m alive.”
“I didn’t meant to suggest that you should be killed and stuffed into a dress, your eminence. Forgive me, please.” Gwen pleaded.
“No, I meant… it doesn’t matter what I meant, but I didn’t think you were implying that. Please relax.” Gwen’s body slumped as commanded into the most tense relaxation Adirn had witnessed in her years. “As in calm down and stop worrying about what I might take the wrong way.” She clarified.
Gwen’s frame rose to half-way between its panicked and relaxed states.
“Yes, your eminence.” She said, and went back to her searching.
All told, there were only a handful of clothes into which Adirn was willing to force herself. From the meagre selection she chose an unfortunately decorated mid-length black dress as the greatest among the poor. Across the front, just about tolerably, was a mosaic of tiny obsidian beads which had been arranged into the shape of a glittering, grinning skull. Its lower and upper jaws sat above and below a draw-strung fold that could be expanded or contracted to make the mouth of the skull open or close, but that was not enough to put her off wearing it. She suspected, in fact, that it was to this unusual design choice that she owed the absence of a corset, and that in turn is what made it ultimately wearable. In addition, the lack of dozens of frilled underskirts meant that the dress would hang along her body, rather than either sweeping the corridor behind her or causing her form to be as wide as most stables. The long sleeves that traced poisoned veins could be managed, and the decorative silver fangs that dangled gently from the hem made an irritating clicking sound, but were still liveable. The back of the dress, however, couldn’t be allowed to see the light of day.
Running full length from the back of her neck and down to the hem at the bottom was intricate and immaculate gold and silver stitching. It must have been designed by the empire’s greatest artist, sewn in by the empire’s finest embroiderer, and commissioned by the empire’s worst dresser. Depicted in thousands upon thousands of tiny stitches was a raggedly dressed man, his head at her neck and his feet at her waist. This man was mostly unremarkable, save for the meat hook that punctured his chest and the incredibly understandable pain on his face. That image alone was something that Adirn did not wish to associate with herself, but the man was also in the process of being lowered towards what looked a lot like a drowning pool, and her recent declaration banning them would be somewhat undermined by iconography glorifying their use.
“This is the only dress I can wear but I’m not having that man on display.” She told Gwen.
“I could send for the seamstress to unpick the design, your eminence.”
“That would take too long for today. But please organise it for tonight. For now I’ll just have to wear something over the top.” Adirn decided, looking through the small pile of doublets that would fit across her shoulders. “It’s a bit short too. Pass me those black trousers would you?”
“The ones with the thumbscrews or the ones with the executioner’s axes, your eminence?”
Adirn stifled a disappointed sigh at the options.
“Axes, please.”
Gwen laid a pair of axe-covered trousers next to Adirn’s emerald doublet, which itself showed barren, desolated land around a well of toxic water. There was no-one depicted dying around the well, however, so it was one of the more pleasant garments available to her, even with the emerald skull shoulder pads. In fact, when placed over the dress it would look like the well was just above a broad pool of slightly murky but otherwise blue water. No-one had to know it had been intended for drowning rather than drinking.
“This will have to do for now.” Adirn accepted.
“Yes, your eminence.”
The maid stood patiently facing the empress.
“Thank you for your help, Gwen. You may wait outside while I dress.”
“Do you not wish for assistance, your eminence?”
Adirn rolled her eyes, remembering the bath situation.
“I do not wish to have anyone else helping me to bathe, dress or do anything else that involves me undressing unless I am so terribly ill that I find myself unable to do it alone. Even then I’m having a bloody good go on my own first, alright?”
“Yes, your eminence. I apologise.” There was a flash of familiar fear in Gwen’s eyes.
“No-one is in trouble. Just please let everyone know that this ruler is quite capable of putting on their own trousers and drawing their own curtains.”
They both looked at the empty rings on the curtain rail.
“Under normal circumstances.” Adirn added. Gwen curtsied and made her way from the bed chamber.
Just as Adirn’s council had fought her to keep hanging legal, and Adirn’s staff had fought her to keep fear alive, the new trousers were fighting her to keep her legs bare. Despite being the largest available by a significant margin, the leggings had thrown up a staunch resistance to any kind of ankle, knee or other joint being contorted through their narrow, inextensible passageways of cotton and silk. Standing patiently outside the door with the unmasked night watchman, Gwen listened with discomfort to the grunting, heavy collisions and occasional cursing that came through the closed door. Many minutes passed to a soundtrack of strife and struggle, until finally Adirn appeared in her assembly of comparatively acceptable items of clothing.
“Right, that was more difficult than I’d hoped but I am done.” She said, feeling the tension.
“You look wonderful, your eminence.” Gwen said, more convincingly than her smile had looked but still not enough to fool anyone.
“Thank you, Gwen. Please lead the way to the breakfast room.”
Adirn and Gwen strode through the halls of the Imperial Malignancy Chambers, causing a slow wave of bows in the guards and house staff as she went by, followed by a second wave of mutterings about whether or not the mirror had been stolen from the imperial bed chamber overnight. By the time they arrived at the breakfast room, the sun had managed to rise past Horizon’s Bane and start to bring light to the palace. Polished obsidian and varnished skulls glinted with bright yellow and orange light, and somehow even the eternally macabre décor of the imperial palace was brighter and more welcoming in the hopeful, natural illumination of a sunrise. Adirn dared to hope that the same optimism might carry through to the rest of her day.
“Empress Adirn Deepgrave!” Bellowed the imperial announcer to the vaulted audience hall, as Adirn stepped through a door that lurked behind the throne. Stretching away from her, a ceiling painted variously with dark storm clouds, lightning bolts, and a blood-red moon was supported by twisted and gnarled pillars that punctured the granite flooring of the hall. Whosoever had designed them had made efforts to put the ‘hell’ back in ‘helical’, carving each twisted pillar into some eldritch horror or another. One was the tangled, grasping tentacles of a great oceanic octopus, with suckers individually chiselled and the ruins of sea-faring vessels thrust among fleshy bindings. Another was an assembly of chains that ran in a braid from ceiling to floor, with shackled skeletons dangling obtusely on every side. Adirn knew better than to assume those skeletons were purely decorative, and made a mental note to have them liberated after the audience was over. All along the chamber the mismatched pillars continued, paying homage to gallows, bladed weapons, feral beasts and other harrowing shapes that Adirn couldn’t identify as they went.
In one final affront to those who would stand there, the pillars had also been placed at irregular intervals along the hall, failing to achieve any form of symmetry, order or alignment. Many of them also failed to stand fully upright, instead supporting the ceiling at sharp angles. The feral beast pillar extended from the ceiling at so sharp of an angle that it reach the wall instead of the ground, and something unidentifiable at the back of the room had no base at all, instead hanging freely from the ceiling and therefore making the support situation worse.
“All bow for her eminence!” The announcer continued, putting even more gusto into this instruction and breaking Adirn away from her scrutiny of the architecture. Although Adirn had positioned Captain Toxis between herself and the announcer as an aural buffer, the man’s voice still assaulted her inner ear. She made another mental note to deal with that later, lest her reign be spent deaf.
In much the same way as it had done at the coronation, the crowd rotated magnetically towards the sound of the announcer’s voice. In a staggered motion each member then bent at the waist for the new empress’ first audience, leading to a great many people being head-butted in the spine by those standing behind them.
“Do they always headbutt one another? It can’t happen every time, surely?”
“When it’s busy, yes, your eminence. There are not normally so many people forming the audience, but you are a new empress. They wish to pay respects to you.” Captain Toxis told her, rubbing gently at the ear which had been closest to the announcer.
“I think I’d feel more respected if they didn’t bother, to be honest.”
“Such is your right, your eminence.” He shrugged.
To Adirn’s left was a towering throne of onyx. It shone from every polished surface in the light that filtered through the stained glass windows that sat high above. They hadn’t been stained deliberately, as far as Adirn could tell, but had been allowed to develop a sickly green tinge of algae over the years. The pale green illumination that pierced through was highlighting the edges of each curve and recess on the throne’s surface, creating bright halos that peppered the darkness and made it difficult to pick out the exact shape of the imperial seat of power.
Throwing caution to the wind, Adirn took a guess at where the seat should be and plonked herself into place. Deep down she knew that she should have lowered herself with a regal grace, or an imperial assuredness, or even a plain old self-respecting dignity, but plonking was what came out in the moment. Like a ghost’s whisper, Katherine the Mistress of Records appeared at her ear.
“I see that you elected to pick out your own clothes this morning.” Katherine observed. Adirn could feel every snide barb in the old woman’s words, even before witnessing the pursed-lipped disdain that came with them. “I don’t know if you are actively trying to make a mockery of your position, or if it simply comes as second nature, but success has most certainly been found.”
“These were the only clothes that fit.” The empress protested quietly.
“I told you yesterday that your excuses needed to be better, your eminence, and my advice remains the same today.”
“Look, if the imperial wardrobe is to be this poor then I can’t help but look a fool. I will be sending for a tailor to address the manifold problems I have found at the first instant I get, I assure you.”
“I think that perhaps an apothecary to do something for your clearly compromised vision might also be wise.”
Adirn looked to her crowd and saw silent faces staring at her. Suddenly, it seemed less important to be arguing with Katherine and more important to be conducting herself like an empress.
“Good morning, everybody.” She said, welcomingly. Katherine hissed through her teeth. “Who is to be first for an audience with me?” Nobody in the crowd moved. In fact, they did a significant and obvious amount of not-moving-at-all.
“Your eminence, it is more usual for me to announce those who wish to speak, rather than you greeting them and inviting them to you.” The announcer said, as respectfully as he could.
“Oh, alright then.” Adirn felt her cheeks flush. “After you.”
“Step forwards, Countess Lascera!” Boomed the imperial announcer. Without the buffer-Toxis, Adirn took the full brunt of his bellow.
“For goodness sake!” Adirn yelped.
Countess Lascera ceased her approach a mere half-step in, juddering in place and dismay crossing her face at the empress’ reaction to news of her arrival.
“I... I apologise your eminence if I have offended you…” she said worriedly, racking her mind for anything that she could possibly have done wrong to Adirn or any other Deepgrave.
“What? Oh, no. I meant him shouting in my ear.” Replied the empress, jabbing a thumb towards the announcer. “Please just step away a bit before you scream at people like that.”
“Oh… yes, your eminence. I meant no harm.” He said, making obvious efforts to reduce the volume of his voice.
“How can I help, Countess Lascera?” The empress asked, keen to get events moving along again.
“Oh, I did not come to petition you for help, your eminence, just to pledge my loyalty and support to your reign.” She bowed deeply, crossing one arm in front of herself and the other behind. From her back a long velvet cloak with thick fur lining draped itself down the floor, and the image of ruined curtain flashed back into the empress’ head. Countess Lascera might at least be able to offer something of use there.
“Well, thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”
“You are clearly a woman of taste and decorum, given your closure of the gallows and drowning pools. Such barbaric and crude practices should have ceased many years ago.” The countess complimented, with a knowing smile that curled the edges of her lips a little too high up her face.
“Undoubtedly so.” Adirn agreed, tentatively. There was something suspicious about the apparent reasonability of this woman that was hard to trust; she didn’t know whether it was the strange smile, the small scars on her cheeks, the tight-wrapped clothing that showed her whole lithe form, the silver dagger-shaped clips in her braided hair, or some combination of all of it. Then she twigged; it was the long, curve-bladed daggers that hung from either hip that really didn’t scream ‘altruistic intent’.
“True respect for the upper echelons only comes from the personal touch of flaying.” Came the thrust of Countess Lascera’s thoroughly minced words.
The crowd’s response was mixed, at best. A group of flaying enthusiasts gave their cheers, but several other pockets of nobility began to jeer and boo. Apparently, the hanging and drowning communities were out in force.
“No! No it doesn’t! I thought I made myself perfectly clear at the coronation that we’re doing away with all of those things. In fact, I will be signing their illegality into law this very day!” Adirn snapped. “I appreciate your pledge of fealty, and even your misguided attempt to show your services, but flaying is just not on. It’s not alright. It’s mean.”
Countess Lascera, like Rott and Vipus before her, did not take kindly to the empress’ decree. The smile didn’t disappear, but turned from sycophantic appeasement to cruelty’s mask.
“Then you truly are no empress of mine.” She seethed. In a flash of motion one of the daggers was unsheathed and in her hand. Adirn had just enough time to widen her eyes in shock before it came soaring through the air towards her.
The audience chamber disappeared from Adirn’s vision. There were no longer any pillars or windows, nor any braying crowds or treacherous countess’. There was still the sound of the assembled audience, along with a dull thud, a grunt, and the start of a commotion within the unseen chamber. But all Adirn could see was darkness; a tangible, black darkness that undulated like a ceremonial cape of the type worn by the imperial palace guards. It was so much like a ceremonial cape of the imperial palace guard, in fact, that Adirn quickly convinced herself of that being its exact nature. She looked up and saw the back of Captain Toxis’ head, as he stood squarely and protectively in front of her.
“Seize her!” he barked. Despite the imminent threat to her life, Adirn couldn’t help questioning why such an instruction was considered necessary. Any guard worth their salt would surely not witness an attempt on the empress’ life and elect to let it slide. Such things weren’t ‘water-off-a-duck’s-back’ territory, even with Adirn’s comparatively forgiving approach to rule.
Adirn leaned to one side, so that she could look past Captain Toxis. It was hard to get a good glimpse of what was unfolding, but the crowds nearby to Countess Lascera had parted and imperial palace guards with drawn weapons were moving into the cleared space.
“Are you alright Captain?” The empress asked, realising finally what the dull thud and lack of a penetrating dagger in her own chest must have meant.
“Fine, your eminence. My chainmail has suffered worse from better.” Keto replied without turning around. Stumbling footfalls and the rattle of weapons alluded to a kerfuffle going on in front of him.
“You saved me. I owe you my life.”
“It comes with the job, your eminence.”
“Unhand me you filth!” Countess Lascera screeched, caring not for the employee appreciation that the empress was trying to demonstrate. There was sufficient grunting in the following moments to imply that her request had fallen on deaf ears.
“You’re safe now, your eminence.” Said Captain Toxis as he stepped to one side and unveiled Countess Lascera, now pinned to the floor of the audience chamber underneath the weight of half a dozen imperial palace guards. Her remaining dagger was in the hand of another guard standing nearby. Around her the crowd writhed with a hubbub of hushed conversation and shocked voices. Such a brazen attack this early into a reign was most unusual.
Adirn rose from her throne and looked to her captain of the guard. He had personally taken custody of the first dagger, in as much as it was sticking from the front of his uniform. It seemed as safe a place as any to the empress. She looked down at the struggling countess, helplessly pinned to the ground and spitting bile at her captors. For the first time in her life Adirn felt like she had been in real danger, and at the hands of someone else who was deliberately attempting to do her harm. It wasn’t something she ever wished to repeat. In fact, given the choice, she would have respectfully declined experiencing it the first time.
“You tried to kill me!” She complained.
“I should have tried harder. But I won’t make that mistake a second time.” The countess boldly declared from her position of limited power.
“But why?”
“You are weak and pathetic. Not fit to rule this empire.”
Adirn bristled. Being called names after an assassination attempt was quite literally adding insult to attempted injury. On the other hand, she had to admit, she had asked a direct question and received a direct answer. It wasn’t like she’d been expecting a wonderful, glowing compliment from someone who had very recently launched a blade in her direction.
“What would you have us to with the traitor, your eminence?” Captain Toxis asked, quite astutely picking up on the fact that Adirn wouldn’t know how to progress unprompted.
“I think that Countess Lascera owes me an apology.” The empress said. “And she owes you one as well for… you know…” she gestured at the dagger in Keto’s abdomen.
“It’s nothing to me, your eminence.”
“Even so, you deserve an apology.”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing.” The bound countess laughed. “You’re a naïve child.”
“And you’re bundled up on the bloody floor, not about to go anywhere or have my guard’s knee removed from the back of your head until you say that you’re sorry.”
“I’ll nev-“
The blade of a halberd pressed itself into her cheek, releasing a gentle trickle of red. Adirn thought it seemed a little unnecessary but the guards were only trying to help, she supposed.
“You think a little cut scares me?” The countess cackled. She looked Adirn dead in the eye and pushed her own cheek harder into the halberd. More of the metal disappeared into her face as blood welled along the line of the cut.
“Ugh, stop that!”
The thin smile didn’t leave Countess Lascera’s face. Nor did she break eye contact. Nothing could have been clearer than her lack of fear, and it dropped the bottom out of Adirn’s stomach.
“Remove the blade.” She ordered. “The countess is to remain where is until she has apologised but I see no reason to delay our proceedings any longer. Please, announcer. Continue.”
Standing in place, shell-shocked and staring at the countess, the announcer stared into the middle distance through Adirn for a moment. Slowly his bearings came back, and he staggered forward again.
“Erm, yes. Quite. Er…who was next…”
“You’re just going to let her lie there like that?” Katherine hissed.
“Until she apologises, yes.”
“She didn’t forget your birthday, girl. She tried to kill you! She belongs in the dungeon or on the executioner’s block.”
“She belongs exactly where she is until she says that she’s sorry.”
“… er, Lord Infernus. Please.” Bellowed the announcer. The crowds settled their urgent whisperings down as eyes turned expectantly towards the Lord. If their tense, uncertain looks could have pushed him forwards, he’d have been thrown down at the empress’ feet.
Katherine harrumphed her way back into line with the throne advisors as Lord Infernus came to stand facing Adirn. With peaked eyebrows he glanced down at the bloody-cheeked countess under her duvet of guards, deep in thought. This was the strongest showing of protection by the palace guard that he’d seen in years. Then again, it was also the first time that anyone had attempted an assassination with the entire aristocracy as witnesses since the death of Emperor Mobius; he had lost his mind during a similar audience and spent almost two solid days repeating the same speech to his nobles, trapping them into the audience chamber with the bars of social etiquette. When Lord Fetid finally snapped and threw an axe at the old coot it was hailed as a service to the empire by the rest of the nobility, but the palace guard descended upon him anyway. Service to the empire or not they’d been bored stiff for nearly two days and a good arrest was just the thing to liven the mood.
“Greetings, your eminence.” He said, swallowing. “I also came here to pledge my fealty to your wishes.”
“Good morning, Lord Infernus. I thank you for your support.” Adirn replied. Pleasingly, there were no weapons at his side, just an extinguished torch. He was clad in dark leathers with a thick orange and red cape hanging from his shoulders. Small flames had been embroidered over his heart.
“I… don’t suppose that you consider burnings to be exempt from your new law, do you?” He asked gingerly. “I mean, I’d just like to be clear.”
“Burnings of wood for the purpose of heating and cooking are fine. Burnings of people and homes are not.” Adirn told him, enunciating threateningly.
“Yes, of course. I thought so… and you wouldn’t be happy with just a little burning of one or two people and a minor village at all?”
“Correct.”
“Good. Good. I wouldn’t dream of doing those things, of course.” He said, with the confidence of man who needs not dream about the things he sees in daily life. “It’s just… these sorts of things are kind of… what the Onyx Empire is renowned for. Evil things. When you take evil things away it would leave a lot of people wondering what to do. I imagine.” He fussed with a corner of his doublet.
“My reign will be something of a turning point, I hope. From now on, if you’re doing something and you think ‘Hmm, this is an evil thing to be doing’ or worse ‘I’m doing this thing because it’s evil’ then I’d like you to stop, and to do something else instead.” Adirn explained slowly and patiently, in much the same way that she’d needed to assure her breakfast chef that she would never need to eat the heart of an enemy of the empire to gain their strength. That particular stock was quite welcome to remain empty. “That goes for all of you, alright?”
Non-committal sounds came from the crowd at large.
“You’ll be off the throne in days.” Countess Lascera predicted, before her face was pushed a little harder against the floor.
“Yes, your eminence. Of course.” Lord Infernus accepted. He didn’t want a face full of halberd or a back full of angry guards. The empress’ wishes had no other option but to be his command.
Lord Infernus’ discussion with Adirn set something of a trend for the succeeding nobles who had come to pledge themselves. Baron Putra asked for clarifications on the crown's opinion of poisoning wells, Arch-Bishop Dagoth explained how no ritual sacrifices would even be conceived in her parish, especially not by the four highly specific methods she described, and Lord Tabius Lloyd assured Adirn that misinformation would not be spread to destabilise anybody's regime. So it went on for speaker after speaker. It was a wonder that so many apparently upstanding members of the aristocracy could think of such well-detailed acts of evil that they would never commit, but the empress heard them out all the same as a testament to the imagination of an empire. Adirn knew that she’d stopped remembering new names several nobles ago while a woman, wearing deep blue robes embroidered with lightning bolts, described how the enormous metal stakes in her lands were for scientific purposes only, and that she’d take a dim view of anyone being shackled to them during a thunderstorm. The empress nodded to show agreement that such actions would be frowned upon, and allowed the woman to move on.
“And now, finally, we may move on to lighter topics.” The announcer declared to the audience. Adirn sat up a little straighter in her throne and looked quizzically across at Captain Toxis, who was idly fiddling with the dagger in his abdomen and scanning across the crowd for any further threats. He didn’t seem to notice the empress trying to get his attention.
“Please come forwards… Glenn of Poverton.”
Tittering swept in a wave through the audience chamber, followed shortly after by an emaciated man in his late thirties. Simple woollen clothing which had been specially cleaned for the occasion covered his frame, and his eyes remained primarily on the floor ahead of his feet. Whether that was to safeguard against being tripped by the crowd, or just a repeat of the behaviour of the serving staff Adirn couldn’t say. He came to a halt exactly where the other nobles had stood.
“G-good mo-”
“A little further forward if you please.” The announcer interrupted, to chuckles from the crowd.
The man looked up with horrified apology and took a couple of extra steps towards the empress.
“Good morning your emin-”
“Speak up man!” This time there was more open laughter, and a few fingers pointed. Adirn scowled darkly at the smug announcer.
“Good morning your eminence!” The man finally managed to finish, his cheeks blushing to a deep red. “My name is Glenn Mariasson. I tend to wheat crops out in the Valley of Eternal Sorrow.”
“Which must take its name from having to see you every day!”
Cackles and jeers broke out around Glenn, who held a silence and kept his eyes on the floor until the noise died down.
“Our grain stores have run low from Viscount Sinitere’s demands on his dues, and he calls for further taxes upon us for working his land. Even if we sold what remains in our stores we would not be able to cover those payments, and we would starve in the coming winter. All of us in Poverton would die.” This news was enough to get many of the nobles were pointing at Glenn and belly-laughing. The imperial announcer slapped a hand against his thigh in theatrical amusement.
“I’d normally demand that you get to the point, but this is golden!” He shouted. Adirn tapped Captain Toxis on the side and pointed towards the announcer. Keto looked down at her, confused, and she gave him some helpfully mimed instructions as the last shreds of her patience finally wilted away.
“Please, your eminence.” Glenn begged, dropping to his knees. “We need to keep enough food to see us through the winter, and we need what little coin we have. Especially since the viscount pillaged our farms for the war effort. Again.”
All around her the assembled crowd laughed uproariously. Heavy boots stomped on the expensive tiled floor, ringed hands slapped together and sinister cackles echoed from the vaulted ceiling. Adirn felt sick, and only a part of that was from looking at the imperial announcer’s mirthful expression.
“Of course you do.” She said, finally. The racket from the crowd died down at the sound of the empress’ voice. “There’s no question that you’ll have what’s yours.”
Stifled tittering rang from here and there in the chamber. All faces were on the empress, eagerly awaiting whatever punchline she’d just set up. By the excitement on their faces, they’d apparently not learning much from the events of the audience thus far.
“There will be no taxation on those who have nothing to give. It’s a pointless exercise and I’ll not have my people starving to death at the hands of their masters.”
Still there were inane grins from the crowd, the mere idea of starvation enough to keep them smiling. Captain Toxis moved quietly behind the announcer.
“You are free to go. Katherine, please record that nothing will be taken from Poverton this year.”
Glenn looked up, shocked, as the crowds fell into stunned silence.
“R- really?” He breathed.
“Really. Please return to your home and spread the news. I will communicate with Viscount Sinistere and my other landowners regarding their duties towards the people in their care.” She lifted her gaze to the crowd at large. “You see, everyone? I think that the question ‘Is this an evil thing to be doing?’ would come back with a resounding yes if it were to be asked while forcing the serfs to sell all of their food for tax money. Do we understand?”
There was no stamping of boots. No cheering or clapping. Glenn made a nervous, uncertain squeaking sound, but even that didn’t sound joyous.
“I’ll take that as a yes. And similarly, my announcer, I think that using a starving man’s plight as a source of entertainment falls into the evil category, don’t you?”
He looked back at the empress, wide-eyed with fear. His act had never gone down this badly before.
“Ye-” managed, before Captain Toxis followed his orders.
The announcer felt several things happening at once. Immediately noticeable was the hand that clamped itself over his mouth and pinched his nose shut. It tasted of leather and blade oil as he tried to yelp, failing to force any air past the flavoursome glove. At the same time there was the sharp tugging sensation on one arm as his sleeve was torn clean away, and a boot struck the back of his knee to force him to the ground.
As suddenly as it had arrived, the glove over his mouth was released, and he opened his mouth wide to suck in a panicked breath. Rather than the lungful of air for which he’d hoped, he found himself with a mouthful of sleeve, bundled into a rough ball.
“What was that, my announcer?” Adirn asked again, struggling to hold her voice steady.
“Hrgmf.” The announcer replied, at a far more acceptable volume than usual.
“I’ll assume it’s a ‘Yes, and it will never happen again’”.
There was terrified nodding and a variety of muffled sounds from the announcer. He must have had lessons in fabric-impaired speech from the Grand Priestess.
“And are you ready to apologise yet, Lady Lascera?” The empress enquired, looking down at her captive.
“You don’t scare me.”
“Keep her here until she is ready, please.” She said to the guards directly, ignoring the countess entirely. “Take shifts if you need to. Everyone else, I thank you for your time and your pledges of loyalty. Please remember them as you leave.”
Adirn turned her back to the crowd.
“You’ll keep that in for the rest of the day.” She told the announcer. “Or you’ll have it in there tomorrow as well.” He nodded in terror. “With me please, Captain Toxis.”
With her impassive escort alongside, Empress Adirn strode from the audience chamber, passing through the door behind the throne and walking silently until they reached an empty state room.
“Close the door please.” She said. Keto obliged. Immediately upon hearing the click of the lathc, Adirn folded at the waist. A pained whine escaped her mouth as she crumpled into a ball on the ground. “Gods that was horrible! Why is everyone here so terrible?”
Captain Toxis regarded the curled-up empress appraisingly. She’d started to take rapid, heavy breaths and had dropped her face into both hands.
“Tradition, I suppose.”
“Well it’s awful. I’m not a scary person, Keto. That was so difficult. And I nearly died! I don’t know how long I can keep that act up.”
Quietly, Captain Toxis pulled the dagger from his chainmail and placed it onto a small table at the side of the room.
“It sounds like the struggle of those above my station, your eminence.”
“Did I go too far with the announcer?”
Toxis shrugged.
“For the sake of my ears and yours it was a prudent move.” He said.
Adirn took a deep breath and tried to slow her heart rate. Despite the protests of her instincts, she knew that curling up into a sobbing ball on the floor was probably not the solution to any of her problems. That knowledge didn’t necessarily translate into action, but it was a start.
“I’ll need to deal with Viscount Sinistere quickly, or he’ll have Glenn executed for sedition or something. And Countess Lascera is going to prove an issue.”
“Not once the headsman’s axe finds her.”
“No. No beheadings. I don’t want to look like a hypocrite.” Adirn told her hands.
“Would you rather look like a corpse?”
Adirn looked up briefly to scowl at Keto and then returned to staring at her fingers up close.
“If you’d seen my wardrobe choices this morning then you’d know that I’ve done everything in my power to minimise the corpse aesthetic. Unfortunately there is a minimum number of skulls I can be wearing at any time, and it’s greater than zero.”
“As you say, your eminence. My guards will keep the countess where she is until ordered otherwise.”
“Thank you.”
There was silence.
“Should I fetch an apothecary, your eminence?”
“No, no, I just need a few minutes to calm down and then we must keep going. I have a decree to sign and some more to… erm… decree.” She sighed. “I’ll feel better in a bit.”
“As you say, your eminence.”
Captain Toxis leaned against the door, holding it closed with is body weight, and held a vigil over the foetal empress. At least she’d made a smaller target of herself that way.
Adirn woke with a start to the corvid cacophony. It seemed to come from around her head on all sides, funnelling into her ears with a metallic reverberation. Not even burying her head beneath the countless imperial pillows, the contents of which the empress refused to speculate on, could dampen the chorus to acceptable levels. Bed was compromised. She had to leave it.
"If this is how my days are to start then I welcome beheading." She grumbled to herself, swinging her legs out of the covers and into the cool morning air. At least, she assumed from the crows that it was morning; her bed chamber was engulfed in complete darkness, like the blackest recess of a subterranean cave system whilst viewed from inside a sack. Although she had her objections to the heavily fuliginous nature of the palace, heavy blackout blinds and matte furnishings did make for a satisfyingly dark bedroom.
Bare feet touched down onto thick pile and nestled themselves among the surprisingly pleasant goat-hair fibres as the empress tried to remember the layout of the room. Normally she wouldn’t have worried so much, because a probing arm and cautious steps could safeguard her against any kind of toe-stubbing or head-bumping incidents. In the case of the imperial bedchamber, however, the panoply of horns, antlers, jagged edges and generally non-toddler-safe objects made blind navigation an exercise fraught with peril.
A bedside table stood to her left side, somewhere between where her legs were and the wall. Other than that, she thought to herself, there were no other obstructions immediately adjacent to the bed. A large writing desk was pressed against the far wall, beyond the foot of the bed, she remembered. At least, she had assumed it was a writing desk at first glance. Now that she faced the possibility of bumping into it, and knowing more than ever about the emprie, she started to wonder if that assumption had been naïve. Regardless, she needed to extract herself from the bedroom and gain some respite from the song of crows, who had been heralding the dawn for nearly a minute by that stage and showed no signs of slowing down. The almighty need to urinate was also a great motivator. No empress should have to use a chamber pot, especially whilst harangued by carrion birds, and so the path to the privy was the only path for Adirn.
Pondering could only get her so far, so eventually she risked it. With the slow and unbalanced movements of the rudely awaked Adirn staggered to her feet. Stooping slightly to keep one hand on the bed at all times, she began to shimmy her way around the chamber towards where she believed the door to be. A mere couple of steps in, her forehead collided hard with a sculpted wooden outcropping.
“Ow! Gah!” She exclaimed, rubbing at the space above her right eye. “What was that?”
Just too late, as all lessons learned by experience are, she remembered that she now slept in a four-poster bed, one with decadent gargoyles carved into the upper frame at head level. A fist was clenched in frustration and at the searing pain in her head, both from the collision and from the blasted crows that still wouldn’t shut up. If the designer of the bed was still known then Adirn resolved to slap the teeth clean out of their head, and she wasn’t above exhuming them to do it if they’d passed on. Picturing the satisfaction on her own face when she wrought her revenge, Adirn stepped away from the bed to continue her gradual journey. After rounding the bed’s corner she should have been facing roughly towards the door, by her estimations, and then everything would temporarily get marginally better.
Across the floor-line, or where she suspected it should be in the darkness, Adirn scanned her vision for the tell-tale sign of light leaking under a doorway, but found nothing; so much for that plan of action. Instead, she scoured her memory of the room one last time to recall the locations of any other ornaments, furnishings or other detritus. Finding nothing over which to be concerned, she crossed the room. One hand touched cold stone; she’d found a wall. That was a good start, but not quite a door. Her other hand tentatively joined in, and together they brushed along the large blocks, searching for a wooden frame that marked her exit. After only a handful of paintings, presumably priceless, had been knocked to the floor by Adirn’s blind fumbling she managed to locate what felt like a door in the pitch black bed chamber. Further minor exploration led to the discovery of a handle and the promise of urinary-relief to come. She pushed the handle down and pulled the door open.
Faint light suffused the hallway, barely making it past Horizon’s Bane and into the rest of the palace but still strong enough to dazzle Adirn as she left the sensory deprivation chamber. Quickly she slammed the door closed behind herself, to shut away the racket of the crows, and allowed the peace to wash back over her.
“Oh! Your eminence!” Came a shocked voice to one side. Adirn leapt bodily away and bumped the back of her head on a wall sconce.
“Ouch!” She yelped.
“My apologies your eminence, I didn’t realise you were awake.”
Staring back at her through the gloom was grimacing, snarling face that exposed murderous fangs and sharp teeth. It also glimmered in what little light penetrated the hallway. Now that she had the chance to start thinking about it, the voice did have a slightly hollow and obstructed quality to it.
"Should I fetch the hand-servants for you, your eminence?"
"What? Oh, no. Thank you. Why are wearing that mask? It's terrifying!" That kind of fright was quite the opposite of what Adirn's fragile bladder situation needed.
"I... I'm part of the night watch, your eminence. This is our uniform." He told her nervously from behind the silvered mask. Every scowling line across its surface attempted to undermine the sincere humility in the guard's voice.
"Not anymore. They're horrible. I'll speak to Captain Toxis about it. Now I really must make my way to the privy, excuse me."
"Should I fetch a privy-maid?" The guard called after her as she scurried along the hall.
"Never!" She instructed. That instruction couldn't possibly be made too clear.
Despite the privy being carved into the shape of a wolf's snarling jaws, and all of the associated tooth-based scratching risks, Adirn exited the small room feeling a significant amount better. Dawn sunlight was working hard to overcome the spiteful architecture of the Imperial Palace and nobody else had ambushed her in a metal death mask. With the kind of calmly realigned perspective that only a newly emptied bladder can provide, Adirn began to turn her mind over to ruling an empire.
She supposed that, at some point, she would need to summon her advisors and learn what business needed her attention that day. Presumably there would be a tide of nobles begging for things or vying for her favour, or a hundred economic issues of the sort that arise when a nation's entire workforce is systematically hanged for no clear reason. At least she'd managed to start the process of quelling that particular avenue of horror, and as far as she could tell neither Lady Vipus nor Count Rott had sent an assassin for her in the night. Things weren't looking too bad, relatively speaking.
Outside her room , the same guard was still standing to attention in his unsettling facial-wear.
"Please take that mask off."
"Of... of course your eminence." He said, audibly swallowing. "I hope that my execution for breaching uniform codes is swift."
Underneath the mask Adirn saw a middle-aged man who was putting a brave face on his impending doom.
"You are not to be executed for following my orders. If anyone tries then you're to send them to me first, and I'll set them straight." She reassured him.
"Yes, your eminence." He said, saluting. "What am I to do with this mask?"
Adirn looked at the metal faceplate in his hands and resisted the urge to give him a withering look.
"I'll take it as a memento of the good things I'm trying to achieve."
Nothing was more obvious to Adirn than the fact that the guard had no idea what she was talking about, but he handed the mask over regardless.
"Thank you." She said, pushing open the door to her pitch black bed chamber. "Do you happen to know where exactly the curtains are?"
Another impressively blank expression crossed the man's face. It was as if years of wearing a mask had robbed him of any instinct or need to show emotions.
"I'll take that as a no."
"The house-staff normally deal with that sort of thing, your eminence. You can summon them with the bell-pull by your bed."
Adirn considered it briefly.
"No, they'll probably think I'm sending for somebody to whip or a body to cast from my window for having the petulance to possess blood or something. I can't deal with that sort of trauma this early in the morning. I'll find the curtains myself."
"Yes, your eminence."
It was no difficult task to leave the door open for what little light was available in the hallway, thanks to the impressive depth of her goat-hair carpet. Only a few feet of the room seemed to catch any kind of illumination, but it made Adirn feel better to at least be trying to make life easier for herself.
Arms raised ahead of her like the living dead, something that she assumed a vast portion of the empire was trying to raise, the empress tentatively shuffled across the bed chamber again. It took a few minutes of false starts and nervous fumbling with sharp furniture, but the soft velvet curtains eventually came into her hands and she hauled them to one side with triumphant elation. The subsequent tearing sound and bundle of fabric in her hands put a prompt stop to that kind of positivity.
"Oh, goodness."
"Good morning, your eminence. I see that you've chosen to tear your curtains off the rail." Observed Katherine, standing in the doorway with a distinctly unimpressed expression. "I had hoped that your destructive tendencies would stop short of vandalism, but here we are."
"It was an accident, Mistress of the Records."
"Yes. I can't count the number of times I've been innocently waking from my slumber and proceeded to inadvertently rip the curtains away from the window, quite blamelessly. Is the rest of the chamber to your liking, or should I fetch a warhammer from the armoury with which you can have further accidents whilst dressing? Perhaps you should be supervised whilst signing the declaration you asked me to write yesterday, just in case you accidentally set the grain silo ablaze in the process."
Silently, Adirn folded the curtain and placed it neatly on the bed.
"I'm sure that someone can put it back up today. It won't have done any irreparable damage, will it?"
"Not more than normal for your short yet devastating reign."
Adirn looked at the carpet and drew a deep breath. Katherine had a lifetime of experience at pushing buttons, and Adirn's had always been some of her favourites.
"Am I to sign this declaration now?"
"Traditionally speaking we wait until the empress is not in her nightgown to conduct matters of state. It wouldn't be modest of you to sit with the council dressed as you are, nor would they appreciate arriving at dawn without having broken their fast."
"A 'no' would have been sufficient, Katherine."
"When you're the one listening to it I find that experience dictates otherwise, your eminence."
"Fine.” Adirn said with a sigh. “Did you come up here for a reason then?"
"I couldn't help but hear you dismantling the traditional night watch uniform that has stood for seven hundred years, and feared what else you might have been doing when left unattended. I seem to have found myself justified in doing so." She looked pointedly at the curtains on the bed, although with what was closer to a beak than a nose on her face, every look Katherine gave was fairly pointed.
"The masks are just as bad as the robes in the skull chamber. Just look at the trouble they caused the grand priestess yesterday! She could have suffocated." Maybe we'll be luckier next time, she added to herself.
"Of course, your eminence. How could hundreds of years of tradition and dozens of predecessors possibly know better than your one day of experience."
Adirn pinched the bridge of her nose. The pulling on her skin gave her a sharp reminder of the bump on her head from earlier. Baroness Heletrick would never have had to put up with this from the Mistress of Records. She'd have everyone under control by now. Then again, now that Adirn came to think about it, the baroness did often take pride in the size and scope of her dungeons, as well as the number of prisoners she kept at any one time. The lens of hindsight made the empress consider that the baroness would not have been a great choice of ruler after all.
"Regardless of your opinions on my actions to date-"
"Low." Katherine interrupted, for the avoidance of doubt.
"- I would appreciate being able to sign that declaration into law today. Will that be possible?"
"Yes, your eminence. The dark council may be convened in the Skull Chamber at your convenience and the declaration signed with witnesses as the law dictates."
"Do I really have to climb all those steps again?"
The look on Katherine's face informed Adirn that yes, she most certainly did.
"Fine, that's not a problem. Once that's done then... erm... well to be honest I'm not sure what I'm meant to do with my days. Are there audiences to hold? Decisions to make? Or can I get on deciding more legislation?"
"Well I never! You're actually asking for advice! Yes your eminence, all of these matters demand your attention. A new empress, especially one who is making such a name for herself, is always the subject of much focus."
Adirn sighed.
"These things must be done I suppose. What should normally happen first?"
"Audiences generally occur first. Then you can sit with your advisors and make decisions based on those audiences, since you'll be armed with a knowledge of which ancient demon to try to resurrect, which village to burn for petulance, which cherished superstition to outlaw and so forth."
The empress' eyes widened briefly with horror, before she chastised herself for still being shocked about any of those things. She considered fervently denying that any of them would be taking place under her reign, but the inevitable argument didn't seem worth it. It'd be obvious soon enough.
"Right. I suppose I need to get dressed and eat something then." It occurred suddenly to Adirn that she’d neglected to eat anything after her coronation the previous afternoon, and her sense of hunger began to give her a stern talking-to on the matter.
"Usually that is what happens, yes. If you were to ring for your house staff rather than just making a racket in the halls then these things would all go on quite seamlessly around you."
"Alright, alright. I'll see you in the audience chamber then?"
"Yes, your eminence. If you're looking."
Katherine shuffled herself away to prepare for more overt disapproval, and Adirn finally gave into needing to ring the bell for the staff.
Just as she’d feared, the house staff had arrived in a state of numb panic. The first summoning by a new ruler was too great of an unknown to greet with confidence or optimism, and so Adirn had been forced to patiently explain that she just wished for help working out where everything was, and some breakfast to be prepared. There was also a great amount of reassurance that no-one would be punished for the destruction of the imperial curtains, which was eventually tentatively accepted as an intention, if not quite a fact.
“I will need somebody to show me to the breakfast room, please, once I’m dressed.”
“Certainly, your eminence. It would be my pleasure to show you the way after dressing.” Gwen told the empress, with her face stretched into a joyless, pained grin.
“Thank you then, everyone. You may get started.” Adirn permitted. Once the other servants had filtered away she added “You’ve been practicing happiness, I see.” It was all that she could manage by way of positive reinforcement. If anything was going to put her off her breakfast, it was that misguided attempt at smiling.
“Of course, your eminence. A command once issued is our only cause in life.” Gwen said solemnly.
“Goodness. I’m tempted never to issue another command in that case.”
“... then… you wish for my life to have no cause?” Gwen whimpered.
“Oh for… please stop taking my words in the worst way you can think of! I mean that your life should have more purpose than simply following commands from a ruler. You are still a person, are you not?”
Gwen’s face scrunched up in thought for a few moments.
“I am less than a person, your eminence.” She decided. “As per the wisdom passed from rulers gone by.”
“Well forget that wisdom. I’m the new ruler and I say that you’re a person.” She declared with finality. She could hear Katherine’s voice in her head, tutting at the destruction of a centuries-old injustice against humanity.
“Yes, your eminence. Thank you your eminence. Have you chosen your attire for the day?” Gwen asked, changing the subject with all the subtlety of an executioner at a chopping block.
Adirn looked again at the selection presented to her. A dress rail had been wheeled from some compartment accessed through the back of the wardrobe, the bed have been covered in neatly folded garments of various descriptions, and chests of drawers had been opened up to display manifold small items and accessories. The whole spectrum of Imperial colours was represented; all three of them. There were jet blacks, emerald greens, and deep violets, all embroidered with crests and atrocities in golden thread, and skulls affixed wherever a skull might reasonably, or unreasonably, be able to fit.
Whalebone corsets constricted the waists of nearly every dress on the rail, concertinaing the fabric into a ring no wider than Adirn’s unimpressive bicep. Although undoubtedly another tradition that had been passed down from each generation of empress to the next, the new empress didn’t feel that breaking a rib and spending the day in agony would help anything. Her experiences in the coronation gown had confirmed that for her quite neatly, so the dresses were largely out of the running.
Turning her attentions instead to the doublets, she saw that they were similarly ambitious in their estimations of the dimensions of the empress’ torso. Simultaneously they expected her to be a walking skeleton but also capable of carrying several sizeable chunks of metal, stone or glass shaped into human skulls, or parts thereof. The trousers, too, suffered from these delusions. Either they were going to stretch to four times their diameter when pulled onto a body, or Adirn would need to have several pairs darned together in order to be even slightly biologically feasible. Despite the huge lack of fabric available to the tailors at the time of these trousers’ creation, since that was the only explanation as to why they were made in the dimensions of piece of string, there had still been enough space to suspend skulls on chains, vipers, and blood-drop gems from every available surface. It was a wonder that the room didn’t rattle with all of the bejewelled clothing hidden away in storage spaces unseen.
Adirn exhaled unenthusiastically.
“Do you think you could find me the least impractical among these items? Perhaps the dresses which won’t try to force my guts out through my pelvis, the doublets which have a hope of being fastened, and whichever of the trousers that don’t need to be painted directly onto my legs?”
“Why… your eminence you would certainly fit all of these clothes trivially for you are the image of perfection.” Gwen appraised, diplomatically.
“Great. But if you could put the flattery to one side and use your eyes to asses my actual size compared to these doll’s clothes, then that would be hugely appreciated. I have no qualms about my shape, but I do have concerns that it doesn’t match what the tailor of these clothes thought humans look like.”
Gwen wrung her hands and looked at the clothes around her. It felt like another of the inescapable traps that old rulers had enjoyed laying, but the new empress had kept to her word so far. Granted that was only one evening and a few minutes of the next morning, but it still represented a lot more honesty than anyone before her. There had to be a relatively safe bet with which to test the waters.
“I… erm… I believe that this would be too small.” Gwen said, lifting a dress that had clearly been made for the children of a previous ruler.
“Astutely observed, Gwen. Good work.”
The maid pondered over the feedback, wondering if it had been purely sarcastic. She sifted along the rack as she thought, and discarded a few more children’s garments. The empress herself was also sorting through clothing, rather than preparing to deliver a devastating coup de grace, and so there really didn’t seem to be anything to fear from her words.
“This, too, is not to your liking?” She asked, holding a much longer dress with an even narrower waist, thanks to the whalebones.
“Correct. As you can see, my ribcage would not fit comfortably into that fabric prison. At least, not while I’m alive.”
“I didn’t meant to suggest that you should be killed and stuffed into a dress, your eminence. Forgive me, please.” Gwen pleaded.
“No, I meant… it doesn’t matter what I meant, but I didn’t think you were implying that. Please relax.” Gwen’s body slumped as commanded into the most tense relaxation Adirn had witnessed in her years. “As in calm down and stop worrying about what I might take the wrong way.” She clarified.
Gwen’s frame rose to half-way between its panicked and relaxed states.
“Yes, your eminence.” She said, and went back to her searching.
All told, there were only a handful of clothes into which Adirn was willing to force herself. From the meagre selection she chose an unfortunately decorated mid-length black dress as the greatest among the poor. Across the front, just about tolerably, was a mosaic of tiny obsidian beads which had been arranged into the shape of a glittering, grinning skull. Its lower and upper jaws sat above and below a draw-strung fold that could be expanded or contracted to make the mouth of the skull open or close, but that was not enough to put her off wearing it. She suspected, in fact, that it was to this unusual design choice that she owed the absence of a corset, and that in turn is what made it ultimately wearable. In addition, the lack of dozens of frilled underskirts meant that the dress would hang along her body, rather than either sweeping the corridor behind her or causing her form to be as wide as most stables. The long sleeves that traced poisoned veins could be managed, and the decorative silver fangs that dangled gently from the hem made an irritating clicking sound, but were still liveable. The back of the dress, however, couldn’t be allowed to see the light of day.
Running full length from the back of her neck and down to the hem at the bottom was intricate and immaculate gold and silver stitching. It must have been designed by the empire’s greatest artist, sewn in by the empire’s finest embroiderer, and commissioned by the empire’s worst dresser. Depicted in thousands upon thousands of tiny stitches was a raggedly dressed man, his head at her neck and his feet at her waist. This man was mostly unremarkable, save for the meat hook that punctured his chest and the incredibly understandable pain on his face. That image alone was something that Adirn did not wish to associate with herself, but the man was also in the process of being lowered towards what looked a lot like a drowning pool, and her recent declaration banning them would be somewhat undermined by iconography glorifying their use.
“This is the only dress I can wear but I’m not having that man on display.” She told Gwen.
“I could send for the seamstress to unpick the design, your eminence.”
“That would take too long for today. But please organise it for tonight. For now I’ll just have to wear something over the top.” Adirn decided, looking through the small pile of doublets that would fit across her shoulders. “It’s a bit short too. Pass me those black trousers would you?”
“The ones with the thumbscrews or the ones with the executioner’s axes, your eminence?”
Adirn stifled a disappointed sigh at the options.
“Axes, please.”
Gwen laid a pair of axe-covered trousers next to Adirn’s emerald doublet, which itself showed barren, desolated land around a well of toxic water. There was no-one depicted dying around the well, however, so it was one of the more pleasant garments available to her, even with the emerald skull shoulder pads. In fact, when placed over the dress it would look like the well was just above a broad pool of slightly murky but otherwise blue water. No-one had to know it had been intended for drowning rather than drinking.
“This will have to do for now.” Adirn accepted.
“Yes, your eminence.”
The maid stood patiently facing the empress.
“Thank you for your help, Gwen. You may wait outside while I dress.”
“Do you not wish for assistance, your eminence?”
Adirn rolled her eyes, remembering the bath situation.
“I do not wish to have anyone else helping me to bathe, dress or do anything else that involves me undressing unless I am so terribly ill that I find myself unable to do it alone. Even then I’m having a bloody good go on my own first, alright?”
“Yes, your eminence. I apologise.” There was a flash of familiar fear in Gwen’s eyes.
“No-one is in trouble. Just please let everyone know that this ruler is quite capable of putting on their own trousers and drawing their own curtains.”
They both looked at the empty rings on the curtain rail.
“Under normal circumstances.” Adirn added. Gwen curtsied and made her way from the bed chamber.
Just as Adirn’s council had fought her to keep hanging legal, and Adirn’s staff had fought her to keep fear alive, the new trousers were fighting her to keep her legs bare. Despite being the largest available by a significant margin, the leggings had thrown up a staunch resistance to any kind of ankle, knee or other joint being contorted through their narrow, inextensible passageways of cotton and silk. Standing patiently outside the door with the unmasked night watchman, Gwen listened with discomfort to the grunting, heavy collisions and occasional cursing that came through the closed door. Many minutes passed to a soundtrack of strife and struggle, until finally Adirn appeared in her assembly of comparatively acceptable items of clothing.
“Right, that was more difficult than I’d hoped but I am done.” She said, feeling the tension.
“You look wonderful, your eminence.” Gwen said, more convincingly than her smile had looked but still not enough to fool anyone.
“Thank you, Gwen. Please lead the way to the breakfast room.”
Adirn and Gwen strode through the halls of the Imperial Malignancy Chambers, causing a slow wave of bows in the guards and house staff as she went by, followed by a second wave of mutterings about whether or not the mirror had been stolen from the imperial bed chamber overnight. By the time they arrived at the breakfast room, the sun had managed to rise past Horizon’s Bane and start to bring light to the palace. Polished obsidian and varnished skulls glinted with bright yellow and orange light, and somehow even the eternally macabre décor of the imperial palace was brighter and more welcoming in the hopeful, natural illumination of a sunrise. Adirn dared to hope that the same optimism might carry through to the rest of her day.
“Empress Adirn Deepgrave!” Bellowed the imperial announcer to the vaulted audience hall, as Adirn stepped through a door that lurked behind the throne. Stretching away from her, a ceiling painted variously with dark storm clouds, lightning bolts, and a blood-red moon was supported by twisted and gnarled pillars that punctured the granite flooring of the hall. Whosoever had designed them had made efforts to put the ‘hell’ back in ‘helical’, carving each twisted pillar into some eldritch horror or another. One was the tangled, grasping tentacles of a great oceanic octopus, with suckers individually chiselled and the ruins of sea-faring vessels thrust among fleshy bindings. Another was an assembly of chains that ran in a braid from ceiling to floor, with shackled skeletons dangling obtusely on every side. Adirn knew better than to assume those skeletons were purely decorative, and made a mental note to have them liberated after the audience was over. All along the chamber the mismatched pillars continued, paying homage to gallows, bladed weapons, feral beasts and other harrowing shapes that Adirn couldn’t identify as they went.
In one final affront to those who would stand there, the pillars had also been placed at irregular intervals along the hall, failing to achieve any form of symmetry, order or alignment. Many of them also failed to stand fully upright, instead supporting the ceiling at sharp angles. The feral beast pillar extended from the ceiling at so sharp of an angle that it reach the wall instead of the ground, and something unidentifiable at the back of the room had no base at all, instead hanging freely from the ceiling and therefore making the support situation worse.
“All bow for her eminence!” The announcer continued, putting even more gusto into this instruction and breaking Adirn away from her scrutiny of the architecture. Although Adirn had positioned Captain Toxis between herself and the announcer as an aural buffer, the man’s voice still assaulted her inner ear. She made another mental note to deal with that later, lest her reign be spent deaf.
In much the same way as it had done at the coronation, the crowd rotated magnetically towards the sound of the announcer’s voice. In a staggered motion each member then bent at the waist for the new empress’ first audience, leading to a great many people being head-butted in the spine by those standing behind them.
“Do they always headbutt one another? It can’t happen every time, surely?”
“When it’s busy, yes, your eminence. There are not normally so many people forming the audience, but you are a new empress. They wish to pay respects to you.” Captain Toxis told her, rubbing gently at the ear which had been closest to the announcer.
“I think I’d feel more respected if they didn’t bother, to be honest.”
“Such is your right, your eminence.” He shrugged.
To Adirn’s left was a towering throne of onyx. It shone from every polished surface in the light that filtered through the stained glass windows that sat high above. They hadn’t been stained deliberately, as far as Adirn could tell, but had been allowed to develop a sickly green tinge of algae over the years. The pale green illumination that pierced through was highlighting the edges of each curve and recess on the throne’s surface, creating bright halos that peppered the darkness and made it difficult to pick out the exact shape of the imperial seat of power.
Throwing caution to the wind, Adirn took a guess at where the seat should be and plonked herself into place. Deep down she knew that she should have lowered herself with a regal grace, or an imperial assuredness, or even a plain old self-respecting dignity, but plonking was what came out in the moment. Like a ghost’s whisper, Katherine the Mistress of Records appeared at her ear.
“I see that you elected to pick out your own clothes this morning.” Katherine observed. Adirn could feel every snide barb in the old woman’s words, even before witnessing the pursed-lipped disdain that came with them. “I don’t know if you are actively trying to make a mockery of your position, or if it simply comes as second nature, but success has most certainly been found.”
“These were the only clothes that fit.” The empress protested quietly.
“I told you yesterday that your excuses needed to be better, your eminence, and my advice remains the same today.”
“Look, if the imperial wardrobe is to be this poor then I can’t help but look a fool. I will be sending for a tailor to address the manifold problems I have found at the first instant I get, I assure you.”
“I think that perhaps an apothecary to do something for your clearly compromised vision might also be wise.”
Adirn looked to her crowd and saw silent faces staring at her. Suddenly, it seemed less important to be arguing with Katherine and more important to be conducting herself like an empress.
“Good morning, everybody.” She said, welcomingly. Katherine hissed through her teeth. “Who is to be first for an audience with me?” Nobody in the crowd moved. In fact, they did a significant and obvious amount of not-moving-at-all.
“Your eminence, it is more usual for me to announce those who wish to speak, rather than you greeting them and inviting them to you.” The announcer said, as respectfully as he could.
“Oh, alright then.” Adirn felt her cheeks flush. “After you.”
“Step forwards, Countess Lascera!” Boomed the imperial announcer. Without the buffer-Toxis, Adirn took the full brunt of his bellow.
“For goodness sake!” Adirn yelped.
Countess Lascera ceased her approach a mere half-step in, juddering in place and dismay crossing her face at the empress’ reaction to news of her arrival.
“I... I apologise your eminence if I have offended you…” she said worriedly, racking her mind for anything that she could possibly have done wrong to Adirn or any other Deepgrave.
“What? Oh, no. I meant him shouting in my ear.” Replied the empress, jabbing a thumb towards the announcer. “Please just step away a bit before you scream at people like that.”
“Oh… yes, your eminence. I meant no harm.” He said, making obvious efforts to reduce the volume of his voice.
“How can I help, Countess Lascera?” The empress asked, keen to get events moving along again.
“Oh, I did not come to petition you for help, your eminence, just to pledge my loyalty and support to your reign.” She bowed deeply, crossing one arm in front of herself and the other behind. From her back a long velvet cloak with thick fur lining draped itself down the floor, and the image of ruined curtain flashed back into the empress’ head. Countess Lascera might at least be able to offer something of use there.
“Well, thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”
“You are clearly a woman of taste and decorum, given your closure of the gallows and drowning pools. Such barbaric and crude practices should have ceased many years ago.” The countess complimented, with a knowing smile that curled the edges of her lips a little too high up her face.
“Undoubtedly so.” Adirn agreed, tentatively. There was something suspicious about the apparent reasonability of this woman that was hard to trust; she didn’t know whether it was the strange smile, the small scars on her cheeks, the tight-wrapped clothing that showed her whole lithe form, the silver dagger-shaped clips in her braided hair, or some combination of all of it. Then she twigged; it was the long, curve-bladed daggers that hung from either hip that really didn’t scream ‘altruistic intent’.
“True respect for the upper echelons only comes from the personal touch of flaying.” Came the thrust of Countess Lascera’s thoroughly minced words.
The crowd’s response was mixed, at best. A group of flaying enthusiasts gave their cheers, but several other pockets of nobility began to jeer and boo. Apparently, the hanging and drowning communities were out in force.
“No! No it doesn’t! I thought I made myself perfectly clear at the coronation that we’re doing away with all of those things. In fact, I will be signing their illegality into law this very day!” Adirn snapped. “I appreciate your pledge of fealty, and even your misguided attempt to show your services, but flaying is just not on. It’s not alright. It’s mean.”
Countess Lascera, like Rott and Vipus before her, did not take kindly to the empress’ decree. The smile didn’t disappear, but turned from sycophantic appeasement to cruelty’s mask.
“Then you truly are no empress of mine.” She seethed. In a flash of motion one of the daggers was unsheathed and in her hand. Adirn had just enough time to widen her eyes in shock before it came soaring through the air towards her.
The audience chamber disappeared from Adirn’s vision. There were no longer any pillars or windows, nor any braying crowds or treacherous countess’. There was still the sound of the assembled audience, along with a dull thud, a grunt, and the start of a commotion within the unseen chamber. But all Adirn could see was darkness; a tangible, black darkness that undulated like a ceremonial cape of the type worn by the imperial palace guards. It was so much like a ceremonial cape of the imperial palace guard, in fact, that Adirn quickly convinced herself of that being its exact nature. She looked up and saw the back of Captain Toxis’ head, as he stood squarely and protectively in front of her.
“Seize her!” he barked. Despite the imminent threat to her life, Adirn couldn’t help questioning why such an instruction was considered necessary. Any guard worth their salt would surely not witness an attempt on the empress’ life and elect to let it slide. Such things weren’t ‘water-off-a-duck’s-back’ territory, even with Adirn’s comparatively forgiving approach to rule.
Adirn leaned to one side, so that she could look past Captain Toxis. It was hard to get a good glimpse of what was unfolding, but the crowds nearby to Countess Lascera had parted and imperial palace guards with drawn weapons were moving into the cleared space.
“Are you alright Captain?” The empress asked, realising finally what the dull thud and lack of a penetrating dagger in her own chest must have meant.
“Fine, your eminence. My chainmail has suffered worse from better.” Keto replied without turning around. Stumbling footfalls and the rattle of weapons alluded to a kerfuffle going on in front of him.
“You saved me. I owe you my life.”
“It comes with the job, your eminence.”
“Unhand me you filth!” Countess Lascera screeched, caring not for the employee appreciation that the empress was trying to demonstrate. There was sufficient grunting in the following moments to imply that her request had fallen on deaf ears.
“You’re safe now, your eminence.” Said Captain Toxis as he stepped to one side and unveiled Countess Lascera, now pinned to the floor of the audience chamber underneath the weight of half a dozen imperial palace guards. Her remaining dagger was in the hand of another guard standing nearby. Around her the crowd writhed with a hubbub of hushed conversation and shocked voices. Such a brazen attack this early into a reign was most unusual.
Adirn rose from her throne and looked to her captain of the guard. He had personally taken custody of the first dagger, in as much as it was sticking from the front of his uniform. It seemed as safe a place as any to the empress. She looked down at the struggling countess, helplessly pinned to the ground and spitting bile at her captors. For the first time in her life Adirn felt like she had been in real danger, and at the hands of someone else who was deliberately attempting to do her harm. It wasn’t something she ever wished to repeat. In fact, given the choice, she would have respectfully declined experiencing it the first time.
“You tried to kill me!” She complained.
“I should have tried harder. But I won’t make that mistake a second time.” The countess boldly declared from her position of limited power.
“But why?”
“You are weak and pathetic. Not fit to rule this empire.”
Adirn bristled. Being called names after an assassination attempt was quite literally adding insult to attempted injury. On the other hand, she had to admit, she had asked a direct question and received a direct answer. It wasn’t like she’d been expecting a wonderful, glowing compliment from someone who had very recently launched a blade in her direction.
“What would you have us to with the traitor, your eminence?” Captain Toxis asked, quite astutely picking up on the fact that Adirn wouldn’t know how to progress unprompted.
“I think that Countess Lascera owes me an apology.” The empress said. “And she owes you one as well for… you know…” she gestured at the dagger in Keto’s abdomen.
“It’s nothing to me, your eminence.”
“Even so, you deserve an apology.”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing.” The bound countess laughed. “You’re a naïve child.”
“And you’re bundled up on the bloody floor, not about to go anywhere or have my guard’s knee removed from the back of your head until you say that you’re sorry.”
“I’ll nev-“
The blade of a halberd pressed itself into her cheek, releasing a gentle trickle of red. Adirn thought it seemed a little unnecessary but the guards were only trying to help, she supposed.
“You think a little cut scares me?” The countess cackled. She looked Adirn dead in the eye and pushed her own cheek harder into the halberd. More of the metal disappeared into her face as blood welled along the line of the cut.
“Ugh, stop that!”
The thin smile didn’t leave Countess Lascera’s face. Nor did she break eye contact. Nothing could have been clearer than her lack of fear, and it dropped the bottom out of Adirn’s stomach.
“Remove the blade.” She ordered. “The countess is to remain where is until she has apologised but I see no reason to delay our proceedings any longer. Please, announcer. Continue.”
Standing in place, shell-shocked and staring at the countess, the announcer stared into the middle distance through Adirn for a moment. Slowly his bearings came back, and he staggered forward again.
“Erm, yes. Quite. Er…who was next…”
“You’re just going to let her lie there like that?” Katherine hissed.
“Until she apologises, yes.”
“She didn’t forget your birthday, girl. She tried to kill you! She belongs in the dungeon or on the executioner’s block.”
“She belongs exactly where she is until she says that she’s sorry.”
“… er, Lord Infernus. Please.” Bellowed the announcer. The crowds settled their urgent whisperings down as eyes turned expectantly towards the Lord. If their tense, uncertain looks could have pushed him forwards, he’d have been thrown down at the empress’ feet.
Katherine harrumphed her way back into line with the throne advisors as Lord Infernus came to stand facing Adirn. With peaked eyebrows he glanced down at the bloody-cheeked countess under her duvet of guards, deep in thought. This was the strongest showing of protection by the palace guard that he’d seen in years. Then again, it was also the first time that anyone had attempted an assassination with the entire aristocracy as witnesses since the death of Emperor Mobius; he had lost his mind during a similar audience and spent almost two solid days repeating the same speech to his nobles, trapping them into the audience chamber with the bars of social etiquette. When Lord Fetid finally snapped and threw an axe at the old coot it was hailed as a service to the empire by the rest of the nobility, but the palace guard descended upon him anyway. Service to the empire or not they’d been bored stiff for nearly two days and a good arrest was just the thing to liven the mood.
“Greetings, your eminence.” He said, swallowing. “I also came here to pledge my fealty to your wishes.”
“Good morning, Lord Infernus. I thank you for your support.” Adirn replied. Pleasingly, there were no weapons at his side, just an extinguished torch. He was clad in dark leathers with a thick orange and red cape hanging from his shoulders. Small flames had been embroidered over his heart.
“I… don’t suppose that you consider burnings to be exempt from your new law, do you?” He asked gingerly. “I mean, I’d just like to be clear.”
“Burnings of wood for the purpose of heating and cooking are fine. Burnings of people and homes are not.” Adirn told him, enunciating threateningly.
“Yes, of course. I thought so… and you wouldn’t be happy with just a little burning of one or two people and a minor village at all?”
“Correct.”
“Good. Good. I wouldn’t dream of doing those things, of course.” He said, with the confidence of man who needs not dream about the things he sees in daily life. “It’s just… these sorts of things are kind of… what the Onyx Empire is renowned for. Evil things. When you take evil things away it would leave a lot of people wondering what to do. I imagine.” He fussed with a corner of his doublet.
“My reign will be something of a turning point, I hope. From now on, if you’re doing something and you think ‘Hmm, this is an evil thing to be doing’ or worse ‘I’m doing this thing because it’s evil’ then I’d like you to stop, and to do something else instead.” Adirn explained slowly and patiently, in much the same way that she’d needed to assure her breakfast chef that she would never need to eat the heart of an enemy of the empire to gain their strength. That particular stock was quite welcome to remain empty. “That goes for all of you, alright?”
Non-committal sounds came from the crowd at large.
“You’ll be off the throne in days.” Countess Lascera predicted, before her face was pushed a little harder against the floor.
“Yes, your eminence. Of course.” Lord Infernus accepted. He didn’t want a face full of halberd or a back full of angry guards. The empress’ wishes had no other option but to be his command.
Lord Infernus’ discussion with Adirn set something of a trend for the succeeding nobles who had come to pledge themselves. Baron Putra asked for clarifications on the crown's opinion of poisoning wells, Arch-Bishop Dagoth explained how no ritual sacrifices would even be conceived in her parish, especially not by the four highly specific methods she described, and Lord Tabius Lloyd assured Adirn that misinformation would not be spread to destabilise anybody's regime. So it went on for speaker after speaker. It was a wonder that so many apparently upstanding members of the aristocracy could think of such well-detailed acts of evil that they would never commit, but the empress heard them out all the same as a testament to the imagination of an empire. Adirn knew that she’d stopped remembering new names several nobles ago while a woman, wearing deep blue robes embroidered with lightning bolts, described how the enormous metal stakes in her lands were for scientific purposes only, and that she’d take a dim view of anyone being shackled to them during a thunderstorm. The empress nodded to show agreement that such actions would be frowned upon, and allowed the woman to move on.
“And now, finally, we may move on to lighter topics.” The announcer declared to the audience. Adirn sat up a little straighter in her throne and looked quizzically across at Captain Toxis, who was idly fiddling with the dagger in his abdomen and scanning across the crowd for any further threats. He didn’t seem to notice the empress trying to get his attention.
“Please come forwards… Glenn of Poverton.”
Tittering swept in a wave through the audience chamber, followed shortly after by an emaciated man in his late thirties. Simple woollen clothing which had been specially cleaned for the occasion covered his frame, and his eyes remained primarily on the floor ahead of his feet. Whether that was to safeguard against being tripped by the crowd, or just a repeat of the behaviour of the serving staff Adirn couldn’t say. He came to a halt exactly where the other nobles had stood.
“G-good mo-”
“A little further forward if you please.” The announcer interrupted, to chuckles from the crowd.
The man looked up with horrified apology and took a couple of extra steps towards the empress.
“Good morning your emin-”
“Speak up man!” This time there was more open laughter, and a few fingers pointed. Adirn scowled darkly at the smug announcer.
“Good morning your eminence!” The man finally managed to finish, his cheeks blushing to a deep red. “My name is Glenn Mariasson. I tend to wheat crops out in the Valley of Eternal Sorrow.”
“Which must take its name from having to see you every day!”
Cackles and jeers broke out around Glenn, who held a silence and kept his eyes on the floor until the noise died down.
“Our grain stores have run low from Viscount Sinitere’s demands on his dues, and he calls for further taxes upon us for working his land. Even if we sold what remains in our stores we would not be able to cover those payments, and we would starve in the coming winter. All of us in Poverton would die.” This news was enough to get many of the nobles were pointing at Glenn and belly-laughing. The imperial announcer slapped a hand against his thigh in theatrical amusement.
“I’d normally demand that you get to the point, but this is golden!” He shouted. Adirn tapped Captain Toxis on the side and pointed towards the announcer. Keto looked down at her, confused, and she gave him some helpfully mimed instructions as the last shreds of her patience finally wilted away.
“Please, your eminence.” Glenn begged, dropping to his knees. “We need to keep enough food to see us through the winter, and we need what little coin we have. Especially since the viscount pillaged our farms for the war effort. Again.”
All around her the assembled crowd laughed uproariously. Heavy boots stomped on the expensive tiled floor, ringed hands slapped together and sinister cackles echoed from the vaulted ceiling. Adirn felt sick, and only a part of that was from looking at the imperial announcer’s mirthful expression.
“Of course you do.” She said, finally. The racket from the crowd died down at the sound of the empress’ voice. “There’s no question that you’ll have what’s yours.”
Stifled tittering rang from here and there in the chamber. All faces were on the empress, eagerly awaiting whatever punchline she’d just set up. By the excitement on their faces, they’d apparently not learning much from the events of the audience thus far.
“There will be no taxation on those who have nothing to give. It’s a pointless exercise and I’ll not have my people starving to death at the hands of their masters.”
Still there were inane grins from the crowd, the mere idea of starvation enough to keep them smiling. Captain Toxis moved quietly behind the announcer.
“You are free to go. Katherine, please record that nothing will be taken from Poverton this year.”
Glenn looked up, shocked, as the crowds fell into stunned silence.
“R- really?” He breathed.
“Really. Please return to your home and spread the news. I will communicate with Viscount Sinistere and my other landowners regarding their duties towards the people in their care.” She lifted her gaze to the crowd at large. “You see, everyone? I think that the question ‘Is this an evil thing to be doing?’ would come back with a resounding yes if it were to be asked while forcing the serfs to sell all of their food for tax money. Do we understand?”
There was no stamping of boots. No cheering or clapping. Glenn made a nervous, uncertain squeaking sound, but even that didn’t sound joyous.
“I’ll take that as a yes. And similarly, my announcer, I think that using a starving man’s plight as a source of entertainment falls into the evil category, don’t you?”
He looked back at the empress, wide-eyed with fear. His act had never gone down this badly before.
“Ye-” managed, before Captain Toxis followed his orders.
The announcer felt several things happening at once. Immediately noticeable was the hand that clamped itself over his mouth and pinched his nose shut. It tasted of leather and blade oil as he tried to yelp, failing to force any air past the flavoursome glove. At the same time there was the sharp tugging sensation on one arm as his sleeve was torn clean away, and a boot struck the back of his knee to force him to the ground.
As suddenly as it had arrived, the glove over his mouth was released, and he opened his mouth wide to suck in a panicked breath. Rather than the lungful of air for which he’d hoped, he found himself with a mouthful of sleeve, bundled into a rough ball.
“What was that, my announcer?” Adirn asked again, struggling to hold her voice steady.
“Hrgmf.” The announcer replied, at a far more acceptable volume than usual.
“I’ll assume it’s a ‘Yes, and it will never happen again’”.
There was terrified nodding and a variety of muffled sounds from the announcer. He must have had lessons in fabric-impaired speech from the Grand Priestess.
“And are you ready to apologise yet, Lady Lascera?” The empress enquired, looking down at her captive.
“You don’t scare me.”
“Keep her here until she is ready, please.” She said to the guards directly, ignoring the countess entirely. “Take shifts if you need to. Everyone else, I thank you for your time and your pledges of loyalty. Please remember them as you leave.”
Adirn turned her back to the crowd.
“You’ll keep that in for the rest of the day.” She told the announcer. “Or you’ll have it in there tomorrow as well.” He nodded in terror. “With me please, Captain Toxis.”
With her impassive escort alongside, Empress Adirn strode from the audience chamber, passing through the door behind the throne and walking silently until they reached an empty state room.
“Close the door please.” She said. Keto obliged. Immediately upon hearing the click of the lathc, Adirn folded at the waist. A pained whine escaped her mouth as she crumpled into a ball on the ground. “Gods that was horrible! Why is everyone here so terrible?”
Captain Toxis regarded the curled-up empress appraisingly. She’d started to take rapid, heavy breaths and had dropped her face into both hands.
“Tradition, I suppose.”
“Well it’s awful. I’m not a scary person, Keto. That was so difficult. And I nearly died! I don’t know how long I can keep that act up.”
Quietly, Captain Toxis pulled the dagger from his chainmail and placed it onto a small table at the side of the room.
“It sounds like the struggle of those above my station, your eminence.”
“Did I go too far with the announcer?”
Toxis shrugged.
“For the sake of my ears and yours it was a prudent move.” He said.
Adirn took a deep breath and tried to slow her heart rate. Despite the protests of her instincts, she knew that curling up into a sobbing ball on the floor was probably not the solution to any of her problems. That knowledge didn’t necessarily translate into action, but it was a start.
“I’ll need to deal with Viscount Sinistere quickly, or he’ll have Glenn executed for sedition or something. And Countess Lascera is going to prove an issue.”
“Not once the headsman’s axe finds her.”
“No. No beheadings. I don’t want to look like a hypocrite.” Adirn told her hands.
“Would you rather look like a corpse?”
Adirn looked up briefly to scowl at Keto and then returned to staring at her fingers up close.
“If you’d seen my wardrobe choices this morning then you’d know that I’ve done everything in my power to minimise the corpse aesthetic. Unfortunately there is a minimum number of skulls I can be wearing at any time, and it’s greater than zero.”
“As you say, your eminence. My guards will keep the countess where she is until ordered otherwise.”
“Thank you.”
There was silence.
“Should I fetch an apothecary, your eminence?”
“No, no, I just need a few minutes to calm down and then we must keep going. I have a decree to sign and some more to… erm… decree.” She sighed. “I’ll feel better in a bit.”
“As you say, your eminence.”
Captain Toxis leaned against the door, holding it closed with is body weight, and held a vigil over the foetal empress. At least she’d made a smaller target of herself that way.