Throne of Power: Ascendance

3. The Menace in the North(east)



Titanya

The steel sound of the boots echoed in the long hallway. The portraits on the wall kept staring at her as she marched down the hallway which led to the Advisory. The place where all of her counsellors discussed matters of state too complicated for her own ears. The light of the sun rose between the pillars on her left, hitting her eyes as she walked. But Queen Titanya of House Sacrabus marched on.

Two guards stood in front of a wooden door, the heart of her kingdom, and she couldn't do anything but hate them for letting everything go so wrong during her Coronation. In the distance, the voices of her advisors were still ringing, reaching her by bouncing off the white walls. She knew they were mocking her. They were mocking her for all the things happened.

Her memories of the events, as poor as they were, made her feel ashamed. Their pieces were still flying around her mind, unsure of where they fit.

As her boot tapped the white marble once more, she heard the guards whisper amongst themselves. They were telling stories of how she fainted during her Coronation, making her memories hit her like a tower falling on a horse.

She remembered the Wolf of Darlan, Caroline, falling down on the ground, with her shield pounding against the floor. She remembered the eyes of the Northerner, shining in the colour of ice under the shadow of his pointy hat. She remembered the fear in her soul when he used magic against her soldiers.

He was the only lowborn wizard she had ever seen and the idea of more people discovering abilities like that scared her. She remembered her Queensguard swarming the room, forcing the Northerner's men into a more defensive position. She remembered Angels dying everywhere, only her friend, Elyanna, managing to keep life. She didn't know how the rest of the Angels fell, but she knew they did.

She remembered a hand taking the Cup that held her father's ashes away from the altar. She remembered the hand throwing the ashes on the ground, a shade of purple smoke rising where they touched the ground, releasing a bitter smell of death. She remembered the ground shaking and cannonballs flying through the windows. War had reached her home... and she was powerless against it.

The doors of the chamber were pushed open in front of her. All of the voices she heard while she had been marching down the hall, into this room, were cut by her entrance in it. She threw her eyes around, trying to find the light of the sun, but the only light she found was one of a few aromatic candles, smelling like the well-dressed whores of Alexandria. The sudden change made her eyes sting as if they were being burned.

Her counsellors were all sitting around a wooden table, filled with foods and wine. Those petty men dared eat and drink during the most important meeting they had ever attended, just the thought of that made her former rage grow even further. Her blue eyes shining like the night in the candlelight, staring down at her Counsel.

She saw her Marshall, her Constable and the Master of Horse sitting on the right wing of the table. Their fingers were covered in grease and oil that ran down from the chickens and their beards covered with spilt wine from the shock of her entrance. Only the Spymistress stood out, her hand over a candle, ready to grip the flame.

On the left wing of the table sat her Doorward, her Treasurer, the Justiciar, the Almoner and the Falconer, who were all buried in their respective scrolls. She knew that they were trying to make sense out of all their collected information and report it to her, or at least trying to look as if they were.

At the very end of the table, sat her father's Hand, Lord Alcheor Albsburg of High Hall, distinguishable by his red whiskers and the green hue of his eyes that glittered in the dim light of the room. He was a fat man, with his fingers being thicker than the hilt of her father's sword. His head was shaved clean, letting only the whiskers connect under his chin. His ears were filled with tufts of red and yellow hair, dirty from the wax inside them.