Chapter 22: The Chancellor's Hour

"The Princess is alive," said Nimeriel.

She stood at the top of the white stair, black with soot, with her torn gown and her hair unbound.

The plaza went silent.

Eleven thousand legionaries in grey stood in ranks along its edges, and behind them the whole city stood on every roof and wall.

Behind her, Ashgar and Brannoch carried the Emperor's litter into the torchlight.

Ru walked beside it on his own feet, with his throat bare.

The roar that went up shook dust off the palace towers.

"Thank the Tree," said Veridian.

His face did not move from sorrow, and he spread his hands.

"We feared the worst, child. The beastkin set fires in the east wing. I had you mourned."

"You lit them," said Nimeriel.

"Highness, you are unwell."

"Three fires, on three floors, in three empty rooms." She came down the steps. "And you were waiting outside with the legions before the first bell."

He smiled again.

"Come, Highness. The circlet is ready. Be bound, and let this night end."

He held up a second circlet, paler than the first.

On the litter, the Emperor raised his head.

"Veridian," said the Emperor.

Every head in the plaza turned.

The voice came out thin and clear in the silence, and it carried to the back of the square.

"I have drunk your cup every night for a year. I would like you to drink it now."

The captain of the white guard stepped forward.

He held up a small blue glass vial.

"Taken from the Emperor's table this morning," he said. "The same blue glass. The same vial the Chancellor gave the Princess in her own hall."