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Prologue and Dramatis Personae

  Dramatis Personae

  Carann

  Artakane ast Carann: Queen of the Dozen Stars

  Karani ast Katanes: Her adopted sister, daughter of the Baron of Katanes

  Mardoban ast Orlanes: Duke of Orlanes, former Regent of the Dozen Stars

  Pakorus ast Orlanes: His son

  Gilgam ast Uran: An officer of the Royal Guard

  Leilin Rehan: An officer of the Royal Guard

  The High Prelate: Senior cleric of the Church

  Publius Vedrans Quarinis: Ambassador of the Empire

  Ceana Preas: Ambassador of Realtran

  Aestera ast Carann: Former Queen of the Dozen Stars and mother of Artakane, deceased

  Katanes

  Varas ast Katanes: Baron of Katanes, father of Karani and adopted father of Artakane

  Danash ast Dakatis: The Baron’s aide and confidante

  Sakran

  Naudar ast Sakran: Duke of Sakran

  Darius ast Sakran: Naudar’s elder son

  Tariti ast Sakran: Naudar’s daughter

  Galen ast Sakran: Naudar’s younger son

  Aurann

  Respen ast Aurann: Duke of Aurann and royal cousin

  Captain ast Myrtus: An officer of Aurann

  Lieutenant Pythea: An officer of Aurann

  Digran Tassis: A rebel

  Tashir

  Sateira ast Tashir: Duchess of Tashir

  Captain Karas: Commander of Sateira’s flagship Sun-Sword

  Tantos

  Kallistrae ast Tantos: Duchess of Tantos

  Bastias: A knight of Tantos Duchy

  Firus: An officer of Tantos Duchy

  Gaspar Madran: Guildmaster of Security

  Hiram ast Tantos: Former Duke of Tantos, deceased

  Realtran Kingdom

  Luagh ar’Realtran: King of Realtran

  The Headmistress: Headmistress of Dansa Academy, a Pervai; her real name is Tlaylli

  Brother Ronall: A monk and swordmaster at Dansa Academy

  Latharna Dhenloc: A student at Dansa Academy, the Headmistress’s ward

  The Empire

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Verus Licinius: The Emperor

  Admiral Decimus: Head of the Imperial Navy

  Al’Aymar Alaen: An Adept in the Emperor’s service

  Other

  Laodamia ast Nadar: Duchess of Nadar

  Menandrus ast Kern: Duke of Kern

  Vashata ast Malakan: Duchess of Malakan

  Dion ast Nadar: Son of Duchess Laodamia

  Specter: An information broker

  Shiran: An Adept

  Midaia ast Carann: An Adept, half-sister of Artakane

  The Neraida: Ancient beings

  Historical Figures

  Artax the Founder: First king of the Dozen Stars

  Caelus Magnus: Founder of the Empire

  The Prophet: Semi-legendary founder of the Church

  Prologue

  Realm Year 488

  Erebus, Remote Moon, Kingdom of the Dozen Stars

  The small moon was a cold and dark world, in orbit around a deep blue gas giant on the far edge of its star system. Though it had a thin atmosphere, no native life had ever crawled upon its surface or tunneled beneath its crust; the explorers from Carann who’d first stumbled upon it had named it for a primordial god of night from long-vanished Terra, and had quickly left it behind.

  Those who came later would find a purpose for it.

  The small ship dropped from jump in orbit around the dim moon and descended slowly through the wispy atmosphere, coming to hover over an ancient crater of dark stone. There, on its rim, beneath a star-flecked sky, there stood a single, solitary tower – an isolated fortress where the wealthy and powerful could come and conduct clandestine meetings away from prying eyes. The small ship came to rest in a hangar on the tower’s side, and the great metal doors closed behind it.

  The vessel’s ramp lowered from its belly and two men descended it. The first was in late mid-life, not tall and gone somewhat to seed and his hair and mustache, once dark, with both streaked liberally with grey. His eyes, though, were still bright and cold as they surveyed the hangar, and his cane tapped rhythmically against the floor as he made his determined way towards the tower’s main chambers. He was clad in rich clothing and was apparently unarmed. His companion was younger and somewhat taller, his hair still dark; he wore armor and bore a dueling sword at his hip and watched the hangar around him with wary interest.

  The two men exited the hangar and were met by a pair of hovering serving mechs, who bowed and directed them to the nearest lift. When they emerged from it, they found themselves in a reception room outside a pair of closed doors; several armed and armored men and women stood or sat around them, and they watched the new arrivals with cool appraisal.

  The older man held up his hand to his companion. “Wait here,” Duke Naudar ast Sakran said.

  “But, Father,” the younger began, before Naudar cut him off.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself, boy,” the duke said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Yes, Father,” Darius, his eldest son, said, bowing slightly in acknowledgment. Naudar nodded back and then stepped towards the great doors, which slid open silently at his approach and then shut behind him with equal quiet.

  The duke stood in a small conference room with a large window that looked out over the desolate surface of the moon; it was dominated by a table at which two others were already seated. The first was a slender man with cold eyes who wore a uniform of military cut; the other an elegant woman who was drumming her fingers impatiently on the table before her.

  “Respen,” Naudar said to the man, before turning to the woman. “And Sateira. As I expected.”

  “Take a seat,” the Duchess Sateira ast Tashir said, gesturing to an empty chair. “We all know why we’re here, so I don’t see much use for the formalities.”

  “The upstart Queen,” Respen ast Aurann hissed, his tone venomous. “Artakane. ‘Ast Carann’, she calls herself, as if she had any right to that name, or that title.”

  “You think that right is yours, don’t you, Respen?” Naudar said mildly. “You always have. Please tell me I haven’t been called here for a petty family squabble. It would be… tiring.”

  “She is no family of mine!” Respen spat. “Don’t you think it’s convenient, after all this time, that Aestera’s daughter would reveal herself and claim the throne, just in time for the tournament and the assassins’ attack? A daughter none of us had ever heard of? No, Naudar, this smells of a conspiracy to me. Old Shiran’s behind it, I’d bet half my duchy – though for what, I’m less sure. What I know for sure is that that girl is a pretender, and I will not bow before her.”

  “The girl is popular,” Sateira said. “But I have to agree with Respen, as much as it pains me to do so. All of these events surrounding Artakane’s emergence – it all feels staged to me. Someone is playing games with us, and I’m nobody’s pawn.”

  “Are you blaming me?” Naudar asked. “Because Darius had the chance to defeat her and he didn’t take it? That was his own decision, not mine. The girl had saved his life, and my son has always had disposition unfortunately too honest for his own good. Had I known who she really was, I’d never had allowed Darius to forfeit the match. But, as they say, all courses are obvious in hindsight.”

  “We know that you’re like us, Naudar,” Sateira said. “You’re proud, and you’re ambitious. It galls you to bend the knee to Artakane as much as it does either of us.”

  “Perhaps,” Naudar allowed. “But, in the hypothetical event that I were to raise my hand in rebellion against the crown, I would do so to benefit my House, not either of you. I have no enmity against the girl Artakane, nor House ast Carann, nor the former regent. My desire for an ast Sakran dynasty is purely a concern for my posterity.”

  “But so long as she sits on the throne, none of your children ever will,” Respen said. “Nor will I, or Sateira. We have a common enemy, Naudar.”

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend?” Naudar asked, and chuckled. “I think we both know that’s not always true. We’re as much obstacles to each other’s ambitions as she is, Respen. So long as your knife in my back is a likely outcome, I’m afraid I can’t join this little alliance of yours.”

  Respen and Sateira shared a long look, and then nodded. “We thought you might say that,” Respen finally said. “I know you don’t trust me. But would you take assurances from someone else?” He placed a small, round holoprojector on the table, then tapped a quick sequence into the keys on its side.

  Intrigued in spite of himself, Naudar leaned forward as an image flickered to life in midair – a tall man in fine clothing, his face concealed behind a distortion effect that left his identity impossible to guess. “Duke Naudar,” the man said, his voice also heavily garbled. “I’m pleased to see that you could join us.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” Naudar said. “May I ask to whom I’m speaking?”

  “Oh, I think you of all people know the value of playing things close, your grace,” the holo-image said. “Simply think of me as a man who shares a common goal with you – the removal of this so-called Adept Queen, Artaken ast Carann.”

  “And who would you have rule the Dozen Stars in her stead? I’m deeply flattered in your interest, but I don’t take the fact that you apparently came to Respen first as a sign that you’re terribly interested in an ast Sakran ruled Kingdom.”

  “I don’t care who rules,” the man said, “so long as it isn’t Artakane. I have my reasons; they are… personal. I also have resources. Money, weapons. You also have resources. Sateira’s duchy has wealth; Respen’s has a powerful military. Naudar, you have a balance of both. None of you have the resources to topple Artakane alone, not if the other dukes stand with her. But together, with my backing, you might. This is my proposal – I will place my resources at your disposal, but first you must swear to work in concert. Which of you will rule can be decided afterwards, when you are successful. Not before.”

  “And what if you decide you should be the one to rule?” Naudar asked. Respen and Sateira, however, were both nodding. They’d agreed to this already, the duke of Sakran thought, before he’d gotten here – probably before they’d set up this meeting. The two of them working together was a frightening thought, to say nothing of the mysterious man who seemed to be backing them. Naudar, though, was an old and careful man. He knew that standing against an oncoming force was liable to see you crushed beneath.

  Stand beside it, however, and you might come to direct its course, and in time, to control it.

  “Like I said, I’m not interested in ruling, or who rules,” the holo-figure said. “Once Artakane is dead, my interest in the Dozen Stars will be over. This I swear, by the Lord.”

  Naudar looked from Respen’s face to Sateira’s, then back to the holo-figure, and nodded. “Very well,” he finally said. “I will join myself to you. We will work together to bring down Queen Artakane, and so long as she lives, I will not work to advance my ambitions at your expense. So I swear, by the Lord.”

  “By the Lord,” Respen and Sateira echoed, and their voices echoed in the small room with the weight of doom.

  And so, Naudar thought, it begins.

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