An Imperial Council Conclave convened at the Council Chamber at Nuwall Palace. The Emperor of Lyvenia- Trurien Emmerick- sat at the head of the ornately carved map table.
The imperial Conclave convened every mooncycle for governing orders from the Emperor.
It consisted of only the highest-ranking overlords of the Empire. None other were permitted to attend the Conclave.
The chamber was cold despite the bright sun streaming through the tall arched windows on both sides of the oval-shaped room.
The dark green marble floor gleamed under the sun’s glare. Sending flashes of aquamarine on the golden inlays decorating the intricate carvings of the map table. A pleasing contrast to the dark-wood panelled walls.
The two monstrous stone sculpted fireplaces lay dormant in the summer’s final days.
The Conclave was different from the other Court sessions that held every sennight.
The other nobles and courtiers were free to attend Court, but not the Conclave.
Trurien’s son Trevelyn sat at his left as the Commander General of the Imperial Forces and First Captain of the Elite Lataris Guard. While his brother Zeirick sat at his right as his Adviser, formally the right hand of the Emperor.
The remaining seats around the enormous map table were occupied by the eight Arch Dukes of Lyvenia.
They all listened intently to Zeirick’s accounts of the growing unrest from the South.
“My sources tell me that Queen Katareina is becoming increasingly agitated with the demands from her people to Declare the next Princess Heir.” Zeirick presented a coy smile to the attendants of the Conclave. “Her daughters are not of age to be declared. Queen Katareina has just proclaimed that the Declaration will- however- hold a fortnight hence. The question now is… whom does she intend to Declare the Princess Heir?
Now, as we have all come to understand, the lost princess is lost even to the Queen. My informants say that the mission of unearthing the whereabouts of the princess is simply a stalling tactic by the queen until the twins become of age, so one can be Declared instead. But her proclamation changes everything.”
Lord Rallien- Archduke of Safumé scoffed, “And she cannot simply declare either of the twins as her potential heir until she proclaims the lost princess dead or abdicated. She must be aware that such a move will cause problems for the line of succession.” He looked around for affirmation from the other Dukes before nodding with satisfaction at their grunts of agreement.
He failed to notice the tense lines that flashed at the corners of the Emperor’s mouth at the mention of complications to the line of succession.
“We all know that a clear line of succession is imperative for a smooth transition of power and the continuity of the state.” Lord Rallien added.
“Well said Lord Rallien. After all, we cannot always depend on the heir causing the conflict to simply abdicate and put everyone’s uncertainties to rest.” Lord Rallien’s statement was made with a severe glance at Trevelyn.
Making it very clear the jab was aimed at him.
Trevelyn met Lord Rallien’s gaze with indifference. He had learned during his childhood in the palace that to show any emotion was a weakness that opened him to further attack.
Emperor Trurien was also acutely aware of his failure to secure his own line of succession.
And his biggest and only failure sat to his left, observing the council with quiet intelligence.
For the thousandth time, Emperor Trurien questioned the wisdom behind the Fates’ work. The Creator had provided him with an able and capable son that could not be his true heir without contest and vitriol.
Emperor Trurien could not fault his son, for Trevelyn was the embodiment of will and strength.
If only his wife had been able to gift him a legitimate son like Trevelyn. But he knew the problem could not be placed on his wife. It was his sole burden to bear.
Emperor Trurien had been involved in a hunting accident where his brother had rendered him impotent.
Emperor Trurien could never fully forgive Zeirick for that mishap. The bitter outcome of that accident had never truly healed- physically or mentally.
However, Trevelyn had made it easier to mend the relationship between the brothers.
And although Emperor Trurien loved Trevelyn, sometimes he hated his son for being everything he wanted in an heir. Because it made his circumstance all the more bitter.
The fates’ work had given him his dream and his nightmare in the same person. And his emotions toward his son had always been torn as such.
Every nation east of the Earim sea knew of the ‘bastard prince’.
Most respected him for his military achievements and diplomatic prowess. But the shallow-minded that valued the purity of the bloodline over valour vehemently opposed a succession by the natural son of the Emperor.
And so the nobles courted favour from the Emperor’s brother.
In their minds, Zeirick was unquestionably going to be the next Emperor.
Meanwhile, the common people revered the bastard prince.
The Emperor himself had always been careful in showing equal favour to his son and his brother. Therefore no one knew with absolute certainty whom the Emperor will choose as his heir.
And therein lay the problem.
The history of succession in Lyvenia had never not had a legitimate heir in the unlikely event that an illegitimate child had been born into the imperial family.
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