Shafts of the morning sun cut through the high windows of the throne room of Hohenburg Castle, bathing it in a soft golden glow. Its intricately carved ceiling had always filled Laira with awe, no matter how many times she had seen it. Today, it might as well be the roof of a peasant’s hovel.

  Her nose twitched at the myriad perfumes floating in the air, courtesy of the hundreds of nobles crowding the room. Trying to outdo each other, they were bedecked in silks of various colors and jewels the size of thumbnails. The buzzing of their voices ceased the moment their eyes fell upon her. They parted for her like water in front of a boat.

  The throne awaited. Laira hated it.

  Still, she walked as her governess had taught her: steady, deliberate, chin high, eyes forward, shoulders back. The voluminous skirt of her extravagant red-and-black gown trailed behind, its heavy weight forcing her to take measured steps.

  She lowered herself on the cursed thing gracefully, like a Queen ought to. Its generous cushioning provided no comfort.

  The High Priest began a droning oration in his thin voice: Nanon’s history and the sacred trust and responsibilities of being a ruler. The words washed over her. She remembered hearing them as a child, when the crown was put on her father’s head. Finished, the priest brought out a pillow, and the crown on top of it, making her swallow.

  Light bounced off the intricately cut rubies, emeralds and amethysts studded into the ornate golden circlet, splitting into infinite beams of red, green and violet. The wings of an eagle unfurled across the band, the sigil of their house. It had fascinated her ever since she was a child, but no matter how many times she begged, her father would never let her have it.

  “This is no mere ornament, Laira,” his gentle voice echoed in memory. “It symbolizes the responsibility I bear towards every Nanoan.”

  The six-year-old girl didn’t understand. Now that she did, she would have gladly kept it far away from her head forever, if only its rightful bearer was alive. Who else could she trust it with?

  Not Linus, even if by some miracle he lived. Just the thought of him as King made her shudder. Even that short-tempered dolt was gone now, leaving her all alone, the only member of the main royal family.

  She looked at the crowd, and recognized the faces of her many distant cousins. Their measured smiles only made her weary.

  Too many of them were obsessed with amassing power, gossip, or dresses and baubles at the cost of everything else, but never honesty and humility. She had tried to form genuine connections with many of them, but none were willing to be honest or listen to advice. Lost causes.

  She composed herself, exhaling the anger away. She could not afford to give into rage. Her father had left Nanon in her care and she would ensure it endured far beyond her lifespan. She would fulfill the promises she had made.

  How, though?

  At least there were some reliable faces among the crowd of sycophants and dullards. The loyal Ragenwald, standing tall despite his age. The crafty Oberstein, almost blending into the crowd, and the stalwart General Hrodric, with his ridiculous mustache, were some of the few she could rely upon. Then there was her Reshma, decked in a graceful deep purple gown, its golden embroidery shimmering. Noticing Laira’s attention upon her, the rascal winked.

  Her new heir and her only paternal cousin, Arnold, wasn’t present, still finishing his squireship under her maternal uncle, Duke Schwan. Speaking of heirs, she would have to intensify her search for a husband. One of the Sindhu princes would have been ideal, but that was no longer an option. Not unless they could prove they had no hand in her father and brother’s deaths. What other choice was there? One of her own vassals?

  While she was busy with her thoughts, the High Priest placed the crown on her head. The metal bit into her scalp with a cold shock. Her world narrowed to the weight on her head and the rustle of silks as the hall dropped to its knees.

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  “All hail Laira the First, Queen of Nanon!” the Herald bellowed, and the cry rolled through the hall like thunder.

  Courtiers murmured oaths, hands on chests and eyes gleaming with ambition or calculation. She returned each bow and pledge with a smile carved of ice.

  When the last voice fell silent, she rose. “Rise, my lords.”

  With those words, the age of her father ended.

  The procession of oaths and courtesies bled into the evening. Once all the public meetings were over, the ones that mattered began.

  The last to meet her in private was a swarthy, thin man with sharp eyes. Today, they were glued to the floor. He knelt with both knees and pressed his bald forehead to the tiles.

  “Your Majesty. Please allow this humble servant to express his deepest condolences on the passing of His Majesty and the Prince,” the man said from the floor. “The Maharajah grieves with you. The entire Sindhu Kingdom sends its deepest apologies for what happened upon our lands. He assures you that we are doing our best to look for the villains who perpetrated such a heinous act, and when we find them, they will be delivered straight to you for justice.”

  He held up a sealed scroll, which Reshma tucked away, contempt clear on her face.

  Laira set hard eyes on the shrewd man. “Tell me, Ambassador,” she said softly, “what would your King have done, if, God forbid, something had happened to a member of your royal family upon our lands?”

  The man just stammered. “Your Majesty—”

  “War. The Maharajah would have declared war upon us,” her voice was small, but the chamber heard it as thunder. “Why shouldn’t I do the same?”

  She didn’t personally hate the man, but wanted to see him squirm at the very least.

  “We would never commit such a crime, Your Majesty! Killing a royal brings the wrath of the Gods upon the killer,” he pleaded.

  “Please, spare me the platitudes. We both know why that is not happening. Nanon is not blessed with fertile lands as far as the eye can see, as Sindhu is. What little we have lies too close to your border. We cannot risk it being captured, which means we cannot risk war with you, but do not think I will let such an action pass.”

  She glared at him, then took a long breath to regain control of herself.

  Another side effect was that the men’s eyes would be pulled downward, making them more susceptible to her words. It was an underhanded tactic, but she would use every weapon in her arsenal to avenge her father. The scum would pay for it.

  “What of my brother’s body?” she asked him curtly.

  “It- it has not been found, Your Majesty.”

  “So he might still be alive?”

  “We cannot say for sure.”

  “I want to send a contingent of my own soldiers to look for my brother and the scum that killed my father.”

  “May I ask how big of a contingent, Your Majesty?”

  “Three dozen men or so. Not much of a threat to any settlement larger than a small village.”

  “I must seek the Maharajah’s consent. Rest assured our people will aid them in their quest. Our best soldiers will escort your men in their search.”

  Laira stared at him before responding, to let the words sink in, “My patience grows thin with every passing moment, Ambassador, as do the chances of finding the culprits and my brother. I suggest you make it your only priority.”

  “At once, Your Majesty,” the man bowed low again and scurried away.

  “He’ll take his sweet time if they are truly behind it,” Reshma muttered.

  “As if I would wait for that fool,” Laira scoffed, and looked at Oberstein.

  “My men are already at the border, but the chance of capturing the culprits isn’t high,” Oberstein commented.

  “I fail to see why the rulers of Sindhu would be the ones behind the attack,” the Prime minister mused. “No one can dispute the threat the Zoran Empire poses to us all. Only three realms remain between them and their complete domination over the continent.”

  “The Sindhus seemed quite pleased at His Majesty’s proposal to forge an alliance, especially after the defeat of Amlain,” General Hrodric added. “The Zoranians’ next target is going to be either Nogaal or Sindhu, not us. It makes no sense for Sindhu to destroy their relationship with Nanon at this moment”

  “Hmm,” was all Laira said, lost in her thoughts. Sindhu couldn’t fight a two-front war and hope to win, so the Maharajah definitely wasn’t the one behind it.

  “I agree. I don’t think their royal family is behind the attack, unless it is one of their princes?” She looked meaningfully at Oberstein.

  “Unlikely, but not impossible. Two of the three aren’t that bright and could have been manipulated,” he said in his gravelly voice.

  “It doesn’t have to be one of the princes. Maybe the Zoranians trapped some nobles into becoming their agents,” the new Queen mused.

  The chivalrous General Hrodric bristled at the idea, while Oberstein and Ragenwald nodded along.

  “What about Nogaal?”

  “Your Majesty?”

  “What if Zoran decides to conquer them first, while Sindhu and us remain divided.”

  “Our ancestors made multiple attempts to conquer the Nogaalese highlands, but met with failure every time. I don’t see that happening, Your Majesty,” Hrodric replied.

  “Zoran have what we don’t, General. People. Enough to drown the highlands in bodies. Men they don’t care about. The Nogaalese’s strategy of avoiding field battles, shooting from a distance and then running away won’t work against an enemy which can absorb the loss of thousands and field that many fresh bodies the very next day.”

  “It still won’t be an easy victory, Your Majesty. Just supplying that many men in the hills would be a challenge, even if they are meant to die in the next battle. Not to mention, that many dead bodies invites pestilences.”

  “You are right, General, but I’m still not happy about the current state of affairs. There must be some way to bring the Nogaalese into our sphere of influence.”

  The usually inexpressive Oberstein’s faced blanched at that. “You’re not considering marrying one of their tribal chieftains, are you, Your Majesty?”

  “Heavens, no,” she almost chuckled at his paling face. “I’m not that desperate, but we do need to somehow turn them into an effective moat.”

  The rest of the evening flew away from Laira in similar discussions. She just hoped she could secure her realm’s future, before this new age devoured her as it had her father.

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