Verita - The Guardian of Darkness

21 - The Kingdom's Grace

The carriage came to a smooth halt, before Elanthin could hear the creaking of wood and a muffled splat. One of the servants must have jumped down from the carriage, ready to open the door on their behest.

Aetrian glanced at her and she nodded, so he raised a hand to the carriage door. Upon him knocking twice, it swung open and presented them with the full view of the plaza. Without much ceremony, Aetrian jumped off the little step on the side of the carriage and into the bright sunlight. His silver hair gleamed as he raised a hand to greet his people in an enthusiastic but accustomed manner.

The crowd greeted him with lively chatter and screams, but Elanthin could only safely identify the Gratian words for Your Majesty and king Aetrian amongst the indistinct chaos of cheers. She stopped in the door of the carriage for a moment, fearing that at the moment of her descent the excited cheers would turn foul.

Aetrian waited patiently on the ground, his attention divided between the crowd in front of him and the carriage he'd just left.

When her eyes met his, he stretched out a hand towards her in a silent request. Elanthin only hesitated for a second before she gripped it. She dashed forward as if the plaza was a cold lake she'd rather enter quicker than slower, but the harsh sting of ice-water didn't come. Instead, the erupting cheers weren't much different from the reaction to the king of Gratia himself.

They aren't hostile, just agitated, she recognized with considerable astonishment. She'd expected a lot – especially after spying the Grace of Gratia – but the positive atmosphere amongst the people overwhelmed her. It was almost as if she was just another royal in their eyes. Is it because I'm dressed like the Gratian king? Acting like him?

However, if that was the only reason for the people's acceptance, she didn't need it. The common Veritans wouldn't play the part of a Gratian as convincing as she could after a week in Aetrian's palace.

As if he'd felt her hesitation, Aetrian placed her hand on his forearm to escort her. It was only then that Elanthin noticed how he hadn't let go of her fingers since helping her off the carriage.

His voice was low but he was close enough so she could understand him despite the turmoil. "No need to glare at them. It's all been prepared. You only need to go up on that pedestal and be charming."

"I'm not worried about the speech", she stated tersely.

The carriage had left into an alleyway already, while the both of them started their way to the pedestal which was one or two meter above the plaza in height. It was a marble circle surrounded by a half-moon of pillars which were brimming with fresh flowers and golden vines.

Broad and ancient-looking as the pedestal was, it didn't generate anxiety in Elanthin but a sense of security. She might not know Gratia or these peoples' opinions but she knew how to talk to a crowd. After all, she'd been doing it since she was able to walk upright.

Aetrian shot her a side glance. "So you're worried about the people?"

Unable to refute his guess, Elanthin clenched her teeth. If there was anyone who wasn't at least a little afraid in the face of a 3000-head-crowd that could turn against them at any moment, she'd call that person an idiot without hesitation.

"I'll be by your side the entire time."

"I know you intend to calm me with such a grand promise but I'm afraid it's not working. Whatever could you do?"

"My best", Aetrian replied immediately. When she glared at him, he simply smiled. "That's it, that's the spirit. If you glare at them that way, they won't try anything funny."

In that moment, she gave up on talking to Aetrian. It wasn't like she could take anything he said seriously anyway. Instead, she focused on the task at hand; with a straight back and empty expression, she ascended the stairs to the pedestal at his side. Her red and ivory skirts were heavier than the swords bound to her thighs, so she had to grip them tightly in order to raise them out of her way. But with their intended public image in mind, she didn't let go of Aetrian's arm until they were right in the center of the pedestal, which was marked by a thin carpet in Gratia's blue.

Other than them, three people were standing on the pedestal: Aetrian's aid Ves, a palace scribe for taking minutes and a decorated soldier, most likely the commander of the royal guard. They were patiently waiting for the main characters of the event to ascend on the other end of the stage, while they stayed in the shadows of one of the broad columns.

The lectures on court protocol by Stellan and Laris had taught Elanthin that only the current speaker was supposed to stand in the center of the pedestal, so she let go of Aetrian now and walked on, towards Ves. Aetrian's aid and his companions greeted her with a dramatic deep bow, which – at least, Elanthin assumed so – was overly exaggerated to symbolize her status amongst the nobles of Gratia. Careful not to hit Ves with her skirts or to trip over them herself, she turned around and settled next to him in the shadows.

In the meantime, Aetrian had already begun speaking with a loud and clear voice. The speech sounded new and exciting coming from his mouth, even though they'd written and studied it together. There was no one needed to tell the crowd when they had to be silent or when they were supposed to react. Aetrian was guiding them with his gestures and intonation and it wasn't hard to see for Elanthin that the people expected nothing less of him.

I'm watching a stranger, she thought baffled. There was no provocation in his voice, no playful glint in his eyes; it wasn't Aetrian who was talking to his people but the king of Gratia, head of his house.

The trained rhythm of Aetrian's voice calmed her down, even though she barely understood the words. While listening to him with one ear, Elanthin reminded herself of her own speech's main points. She was to reassure the Gratians, invite the Veritans and to promise everyone that she wasn't a hostage but a guest in the palace. But most importantly, she was to convince every attending citizen, whether it was a Gratian one or an early Veritan arriver, that this treaty would benefit both houses and was the only solution to the Deep's behavior – even if it meant shaking hands with a house which had been their sworn enemy for centuries.

"... as the palace's people and myself have had the honor of hosting Her Majesty, queen Elanthin of the Forlorn Plains. I wish for you to form your own opinions of the Veritan's intentions by listening to her closely. I trust in your kind cooperation as we will either rise to new heights together or fall into oblivion alone if we stop moving forward."

This time, the crowd stayed silent, even after Aetrian had ended his appeal. Whether it was because of their hesitation to welcome the changes this treaty would bring to their lives or their king's bright smile in Elanthin's direction, it didn't matter to her currently. She had a mission and she'd fulfill it to the best of her abilities.

Elanthin took a deep breath and repeated her opener in her head, before taking a step forward. There was one thing she'd insisted on when the maids had dressed her: comfortable boots. Now, she was more than happy about her choice because she could feel the tremor of her hands rising and spreading, not only into her arms but into every corner of her body. Normally, she'd written it off as nervousness in an unfamiliar situation; but Elanthin felt rather calm.

Despite the strange behavior of her body, she walked to where Aetrian was standing and accepted the slight bow of his head with all the Gratian grace she could gather.

Then, a thousand things seemed to happen all at once.

Aetrian was making a step back, relinquishing the stage to her, when the sound of crumbling stone and a surprised scream from the opposite end of the plaza turned everyone's head. The sound wasn't remarkably loud in comparison to the excited cheers before, but something it the woman's voice sent shivers down Elanthin's back.

Before her mind had acknowledged the situation, before she'd even found the reason for the scream, her muscles were straining and adrenaline rushed in.

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