Death and the Emperor

Book 2 Chapter V: A Tangled Family Tree

Curiouser and curiouser! -- Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

"So that's the situation," Særnor said when Kilan finished explaining the events of the past few days. "It looks a pretty hopeless one, to me. The Iqui won't take kindly to being blackmailed."

"And I don't take kindly to him trying to start a war!" Kilan said with uncharacteristic venom. "To say nothing of the way he treated his own daughter!"

Arásy had studied Kilan while he was speaking. What she saw alarmed her. He had lost weight, and there was a haunted, almost frightened, look in his eyes that scared her in a way she couldn't understand. There and then she made up her mind. Her son needed guidance from someone older and wiser. This sorry business was too stressful for him to cope with on his own. He was scarcely twenty-two, and Nadriet only eighteen. They were both far too young to be alone in the royal court.

She said nothing about her decision at the time. Instead she focused on the most important matter to hand. "You're sure the Princess wants to go ahead with this marriage?"

Kilan nodded. "She said so herself. After the wedding she'll live in a wing of her own if she wants to stay in the palace, or she can go back to the palace I've given her, where she is now."

~~~~

The day of the wedding approached with frightening speed. Almost before Kilan knew it, the day before the wedding arrived. The Empire's journalists and gossip columnists were having the time of their lives speculating on what dress the bride would wear, what flowers would be in the bouquet, how the wedding cake would be decorated, and similar subjects.

The Iqui sent some of his sons to attend their sister's wedding. Kilan, for once, was happy to let the High Council deal with them. Princess Qihadal and her retinue travelled from Gankolzasques. From all over the Empire, nobles and politicians made their way to the capital.

Kilan endured the chaos of wedding preparations for as long as he could. But finally it all became too much. He asked his father to take over reviewing the seating arrangements, and fled to the furthest part of the palace he could reach.

Much of Zasordoth Palace was still uninhabited and rarely-visited. Kilan had only seen a tiny fraction of it: the main building, where the royal family lived, and the few other rooms he had had time to explore. Some of it was being opened for the first time in decades to house visiting dignitaries. Other parts of it remained untouched, inhabited only by dust and mice.

It was to these distant, undisturbed rooms and hallways that Kilan went, certain no one would disturb him there.

To anyone else, this part of the palace would be eerie at best. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like curtains, fluttering in the draft that whistled through the rooms. Some doors had entirely disappeared under layers of spiderwebs. A flight of stairs made of marble, now cracked and dirty, led into a ballroom lined with broken mirrors. Tables stood at the far wall of the ballroom, with plates and glasses still on them as if in preparation for a feast.

Kilan picked up one of the plates. Printed on the bottom was the date it had been made: 2236. Almost a hundred years ago. Why had all this been abandoned and forgotten? It should be put on display in a museum, not left to gather dust over decades.

He set the plate back down on the table and went over to the windows. They were so dusty and clouded that he couldn't see anything through them.

There was something almost sad about this ballroom, forever prepared for a party that apparently had never happened. Why had it never happened? Why had everyone forgotten this place existed?