Athanasia is never one to take back her promises. Especially ones that she has linked her life and name to.
Just as she had promised in good faith on their actions, she had arranged for an illustrious career for Ijekiel and Roger who deserved it, after switching to Athanasia's faction.
Roger had been all too happy to accept, but he had been on his knees, thanking her profusely.
Ijekiel hadn't noticed the tears that had spilled onto his cheeks when he watched his father accept the honorary knighthood.
A knighthood that Roger hadn't been able to get when he was younger, he now held it upon his shoulders in bright silver. A pen in his hand instead of a sword hanging from his waist.
It was a privilege that would allow him access to supervise the Empire's lands, as Duke Alpheus, the shield of the Imperial family.
Had both Claude and Athanasia foregone their duties, he would have been their sword, but they would keep that role for as long as they deemed necessary.
Ijekiel smiles, for it had all come true for the better.
Athanasia thanks the mages for their help, rewarding them generously for their hard spent services at her beck and call.
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Some refuse, that the honor was all theirs, to help their majesties.
Some look a bit sheepish when receiving honorable titles, or money to help with their livelihood.
Athanasia tells them not to fret, that it is worth it- that their lives were put at stake to help hers, that she was ever so grateful for their involvement, and that during standby their active participation in eradicating the black magic with keeping the runes up and running all day and night, sweeping over maintenance every few days to hours.
Worthwhile.
White silk flowers brushed with crushed gold ran up her spine in a line of crocheted lace, her shoulders exposed to the air, the thin white dress brushing over her thighs.
Ice and edible flowers float in the glass, dripping with condensation as Athanasia doesn't bother wiping it down with the napkin laid over her lap. Choosing instead, to let the water, fall where it must, and the water is almost sweet on her tongue.
The stray drops fell from her fingers and dripped onto her throat. It runs down the pale expanse of her collarbone until Athanasia wipes it away with a silk napkin.
Water just like her future, would continue to run until all stopped in this realm.
Lilian and Felix get together after sneaking little glances, and Athanasia thinks she should have pushed them together sooner. But she knows all good things will come to those who wa- no.
