The Cursewright's Vow

Chapter 28: The Bargain, Part 1

In Talinara the Cathedral bells tolled the Sorrows, all day and all night. Not all the Imperial family had gathered, but more of the Emperor's children had reunited for the funeral rites of Yvelle Nessir than had been seen since the Princess Carala had come of age. Silenio, Carala, and Sarai walked three abreast up the aisle to pay their respects at the casket before the altar, followed by a train of the Prince's most trusted soldiers, including those who had been with him at Gallowsport. Behind them wandered the Prince Vetilius, his ruddy moon face vacant and smiling, as if this were a typical Graceday ceremony. Though missives had been sent to Perseun notifying him of his mother's death, the Emperor insisted the rites be held even before there had been time for a messenger to return from the Sultan's court. The others had sent their apologies for their absences, and various members of their retinues to represent them. Carala wondered if some of her siblings knew there was more to their mother's death than was being told to the court.

The Emperor was little seen at the ceremony. Courtiers and guardsman had escorted him from the Chalcedony Palace to the towering spires of the Cathedral of the Graces in a somber black litter before the priests had opened its doors to the common public, and there he had spent an hour alone with the Empress-Consort's body. By the time the priests had begun admitting the Imperial family and the lesser nobility, Somilius Deyn had retreated to the litter, and if not for the shadowy bulk she could occasionally glimpse through its screens, Carala might have thought he had returned to the Palace without waiting for the rites to conclude. It wouldn't have surprised her. After all that had happened since she had fled Talinara, nothing about her father surprised her.

Three days before Yvelle's funeral, before Carala had even been in Talinara a full day, the Emperor had summoned her to a private audience with himself, Varallo Thray, and Galena Orthis. Already she and Denisius had spoken with him in the throne room, giving what details they felt they could. They had been furnished a cure for the wolf's blood sickness by a cursewright who had already left the bounds of the Anointed Realms; no, they did not know what the source of his cure was; no, they didn't believe he had anything to do with whatever had happened in Leusenia (the Emperor provided no details and did not seem interested in hearing any); yes, the cursewright had proven to their satisfaction that Carala no longer suffered from the wolf's blood. 

The Emperor had smiled and dismissed them, releasing Denisius to his rooms at the Scholar's Rest and Carala to the care of her sister Sarai and her handmaidens. Carala's handmaidens were nowhere to be found; every last one of them had been shipped off to other corners of the Anointed Realms in the week after her disappearance. She had barely settled into Sarai's apartments before a courtier had arrived with another summons from the Emperor, this one for her alone.

"It is so very good to have you back, dear Carala, very good indeed," her father had said, gazing at her shrewdly from the Malachite Throne. Ceaselessly Carala's gaze drifted to the empty chair at his side, a pain aching in her heart every time she saw it. "But there are certain matters we must discuss away from the ears of Lord Marhollow and his man, I am sure you understand. And dear Silenio, of course, we do not wish to trouble him with these matters, do we?"

"No, father," she had replied, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Though she had faced many terrible things since Tacen had bitten her, they all seemed to pale compared to her father's smiling, swollen face; the secrets she now knew lurked behind those hazel eyes so like her own.

"Of course not. Let Mother Orthis inspect you, my dear Carala. I believe you feel yourself cleansed of the wolf's blood, oh yes, but we must be sure, must we not?"

Reluctantly Carala nodded. Galena Orthis, the same priestess who had anointed her and all her siblings, living and dead, into the care of the Graces; the same priestess who had smiled and embraced her at her own coming of age ceremony; the same woman who would have wed her and Denisius had things gone differently -- she was all these things, but she was also the one who had performed the rite on her mother and condemned her to the wolf's blood. Although she submitted to her father's wishes, she could not restrain a shudder of disgust as Galena laid one withered hand on her shoulder and pressed a flat bar of silver against her face.