Saturday, July 30, 4 S.E.

  Leonidas watched as the last of the Lance-Masters exited the room, with the Royal Guard closing the doors behind them and leaving him, Aylar, Synthra, Ceruviel, Uriel, Bardulf, Parnym, Mithrander, and finally Kairi alone within the space.

  For a long moment, nobody spoke until Ceruviel finally took the initiative.

  “Are you absolutely fucking mad?” she demanded flatly.

  Leonidas winced at her tone and sighed quietly at the expected displeasure, glad she’d at least restrained herself until the rest of those in attendance had been dismissed.

  Opposite his Mentor, the Dawn-Lord let out a quiet sigh.

  It was Aylar, however, who followed Ceruviel’s words.

  “This does seem… extreme, Leonidas,” his future wife said carefully, her hand in his lightly squeezing as if to assure him she was not being hostile. He could read that in her emotions well enough, amid the shock and slight fear, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. “What you’re proposing is unprecedented.”

  “{It is not, strictly speaking, unprecedented, Your Majesty,}” Mithrander said after she was done, surprising Leonidas as the elder—whose mind-glow he couldn’t even begin to read—turned toward him. “{It is certainly almost unheard of, but it has happened before.}”

  “{If you go on another historical diatribe, Mithrander…}” Ceruviel growled, while Leonidas glanced at his mentor wryly.

  “Hey, uh, English?” Kairi said abruptly, looking displeased at the other end of the table. “Not all of us speak Fantasy.”

  Leonidas sighed at her instinctive use of the word, and Kairi smiled sweetly at him. Too sweetly.

  “Of course, young miss,” Mithrander said in an unruffled tone. “My apologies. As for your concerns, Your Grace, this is rather pertinent,” he said as he turned to Ceruviel’s glowering face. “I am certain that the good Duke would concur with me, as well.”

  Uriel only offered a single, tacit nod, but said nothing.

  “Please continue, Elder,” Aylar said before anyone else could respond, squeezing Leonidas’ hand again, gently, in support. At least she was willing to hear him out. That was something. The trials may have been to thank for it, but he appreciated the Swordmaiden’s inherent empathetic grace more than ever in that moment.

  Mithrander inclined his head, paused as if collecting his thoughts, and then forged ahead in perfect English.

  “Millennia ago, prior to the unification of the warring Haelfenn City-States, the Kingdom of Eldormer underwent a similar alteration of identity. It was your founding ancestor, in point of fact, that undertook the reformation, Your Majesty,” Mithrander said as Leonidas listened, curious, to his explanation. “In his wisdom, King Ectherion understood that the old order had to be demolished before the new one could rise in its place. It was… unconventional, to say the least, but his Ambition made him singularly capable of the act.”

  “He was a [Sovereign],” Synthra supplied, abruptly, from where she sat with her hands crossed over her impressive chest. “We learned that in the Rite.”

  “He was, my lady, yes,” Mithrander said politely, and Leonidas sensed a pleased thrill from Synthra at the use of the title, though she never showed it on her face. “Given that Earl Latherian, that is, the King-to-be, is also a [Sovereign]—well, it stands to reason that this may very well be seen less as a breach of tradition, and, if I may speak frankly: the inevitable result of playing with a power beyond one’s control.”

  Ceruviel stiffened at that, and Leonidas let out a sigh as the Duchess tightened her hands into fists, letting loose of a ‘tsk’ of irritation before standing up and walking to the window nearby, her arms folding at her spine in parade rest.

  “The simple truth is,” Mithrander continued without visible concern, “our future King is a singular incarnation within the System, and if he so desires to ‘reforge’ the trajectory of this nation, I fear there is little we can do about it. His desire for our consent, Your Majesty—” he looked at Aylar with a faint, paternal smile “—appears to be entirely built out of his abiding affection for you, and his respect for his Mentor, the Dawn-Lord, and those of us present. If your future husband decides on this course of action, I daresay there’s little we could realistically do to stop him, short of murder.”

  Leonidas laughed at that, despite the ending words, and Kairi gave him a withering look when he did, her gaze already laser-focused on Mithrander.

  “I think the ‘murder’ ship has already sailed, Elder,” Leonidas said with genuine amusement, “though I wouldn’t put it past Aylar or Ceruviel to beat me a little.”

  That drew a snort from the Duchess, as he’d hoped, and a small chuckle from Aylar and the others—serving the dual purpose of making his tense sister relax, if only slightly, at the end of the table.

  “That’s all fine,” Bardulf said abruptly, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded in thought, “but that doesn’t explain your actual ideas, Achilles. What scheme are you concocting in that head of yours?”

  “Something reckless, no doubt,” Synthra said immediately, fixing Leonidas with a look.

  “...that seems likely,” Parnym murmured, and glanced at Kairi when she gave him an assessing look, shrinking slightly in his chair as Leonidas’ sister smiled at the Haelfar in a predatory manner. He did not want to assess that more deeply, and instead focused on Aylar when she spoke.

  “A new House…” the Queen said quietly, her voice drawing focus from across the room. “I take it you had something in mind, Leonidas?”

  At the question, Leonidas felt his anxiety spike again. This was the most daunting part. His talk with Kairi had helped, had given him perspective and insight into things from a decidedly objective viewpoint—between the lines of the thinly veiled suspicion his sister held, at least—that was largely apolitical. He knew what he thought was a good idea, but the reason he’d raised it here, partially, was to get feedback.

  “My family name,” Leonidas said after a moment of thought, “traces back to an old bloodline here on Earth. Er, Terra,” he corrected, and continued on. “Technically speaking, it’s a Royal line, I guess, but few people think that way anymore. Have, uh, any of you read the stories of King Arthur?”

  Kairi sighed at his words, shaking her head, and then froze in surprise when Synthra gasped and slammed her fist into the desk. “I knew it!” the redhead declared triumphantly. “I knew your weird name sounded familiar!”

  Aylar laughed at the outburst and then looked up at him, her blue eyes faintly radiant. “I have read some of those tales, too,” she confirmed warmly. “The Library here had several tales that I have enjoyed perusing.”

  “I have seen the tomes,” Mithrander said, also surprising Leonidas. “I read them after Her Majesty was done with them. A fascinating lineage, Earl Latherian. Fascinating indeed.”

  Uriel, Bardulf, and Parnym simply looked at him, and at the window, Ceruviel sighed again.

  “I know of it,” his Mentor grumbled. “I made the connection already.”

  Leonidas blinked at that, but wasn’t surprised when he nodded.

  “Well, that’s helpful,” Leonidas said as some of his anxiety abated. “I had this thought. Dawnhaven is sort of like an island, right? I mean, not literally, but it’s an island in a sea of chaos. The world. Uh, you guys get it.”

  He took a breath when he realized he was rambling, and refocused himself as Aylar squeezed his hand again, encouragingly.

  “Okay, anyway, what I’m saying is that in Arthurian Legend, there’s this place called Avalon—it’s sort of like paradise. Not quite, but it’s close. It’s an island of plenty, and is meant to hold mystical—never mind, that’s not really relevant,” he said, as Kairi breathed the word ‘dweeb’ under her breath, and earned a surprised chortle from Synthra, who abruptly blinked and then glared at his sister.

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  Kairi, in response, just smirked.

  “What is your point, dearest?” Aylar asked, gently but firmly refocusing him.

  “Right, the point,” Leonidas said as he re-centered himself, “is that Avalon is a name that has come to imply safety or protection in the common interpretation. It’s not strictly how it was written, but it’s associated with that by most people who only know the legends in passing. In Terran Culture, marriage usually signifies the induction of a wife into her husband’s family. While Aylar remained an Eldormer, that… probably wouldn’t be possible.”

  Patient silence greeted his words, though nods from the Alterans confirmed his suspicions, including Aylar herself.

  “And while I know this is… complicated… I have to admit that the idea of my wife not having my last name, well, it kind of pisses me off, honestly. She’s my wife. Of course we should have the same last name, and I’m not going to take an Alteran one. That’d just make all the Terrans in the city angry.”

  More silence greeted his words, though this time it was more thoughtful.

  “The reason this matters,” Leonidas continued before anyone could interrupt, “is because we’re not on Altera. This is Terra. Even after the Incursion, the vast majority of people in the world remain Terran. If we’re going to do this right, make this Kingdom a beacon, then we can’t do it in a way that alienates them. So…”

  Leonidas bent forward and looked down at Aylar, properly, meeting her eyes fully.

  “Aylar,” he said to her more directly, “how would you feel if, instead of Eldormer or Paendrag, we took a step forward and called on some Terran history?”

  Aylar met his eyes in silence for several heartbeats, and then he saw it click.

  “Pendragon,” she breathed, her eyes widening faintly. “You want to reclaim your family’s lineage, using a Terran line that inspires feelings of glory and honor. It’s… It’s actually quite brilliant, Leonidas, but the Alterans—”

  “A compromise,” Uriel said, surprising them all with his sudden interjection. “Forgive my impertinence, Your Majesty, but I believe a compromise is the only path forward, one that will reassure the Alterans while enacting the Earl’s plan. Candidly, I find this to be a well-reasoned initiative, though it errs on the side of naked idealism.”

  Leonidas smiled ruefully at Uriel’s words, but didn’t dispute them. The Dawn-Lord had a point, as he usually did when he chose to speak.

  “The Eldormer name is too poignant,” Ceruviel said from the window abruptly, chiming in after Uriel. “As much as it galls me, I see my Squire’s point. It is too Alteran, but that does not mean that the callback itself loses value. Whether the Terrans like it or not, Alteran blood forged this safe haven, and Alteran blood will be an irrevocable part of its success.”

  “That is true,” Aylar agreed, nodding to Ceruviel’s words, and to Uriel’s as well. “Well-reasoned. They are right, Leonidas. We cannot have Terran recognition without alienating our own people, and we cannot maintain our ties to Eldormer, it seems, without alienating yours. So, what are we to do?”

  Leonidas hesitated at her question, and his mind rolled over it. Keeping Eldormer was an option, to a lesser extent, but the reverence held for the lineage would directly contravene their efforts. It would be seen as an act of showmanship by many of the Terrans, and the Haelfenn would view it as a symbolic concession only. He knew, by now, how their minds worked. There had to be a better solution.

  “Add Altera to your names,” Kairi said suddenly, catching Leonidas off guard as she kicked her feet up on the closest chair. “It’s just common sense. People do it all the time, here. Just add Altera to your names, but take Pendragon as the surname. Easy.”

  All eyes turned to Kairi, and she blinked for a moment before folding her arms defensively.

  “What? It’s just sensible!”

  “I think she’s right,” Synthra said before anyone else could speak, appraising Kairi in thoughtful silence—much to his sister’s evident surprise—before turning back to Leonidas and Aylar. “No, really, I think she’s right. It’s the perfect counterbalance. You acknowledge where we all came from without exemplifying a specific lineage. Think about it: it also defangs Haelfenn supremacy, not immediately, but in the long term. It was never going to last anyway, not without considerable damage to the Colony. With this, you head that issue off easily.”

  Mithrander nodded his head slowly at Synthra’s words and bridged his fingers.

  “The Earl’s sister speaks with wisdom, Your Majesty, as does the Lady Sorceress,” the Elder said directly to Aylar. “This is a workable solution to the [Sovereign]’s concerns. Instead of ‘Aylar Taleria Lux Fortuna Eldormer’, you would become ‘Aylar Taleria Lux Fortuna Altera Pendragon’. It is, if I may say so, quite the impressive mantle.”

  “What would that make Ace?” Parnym asked, and drew a blink from Kairi, who shot Leonidas a look that he deflected with an apologetic smile.

  “Hm…” Aylar said thoughtfully, looking up at Leonidas as he looked back down at her. “Leonidas Achilles Romulus Altera Pendragon.”

  “LARAP?” Kairi asked immediately, her features breaking into a grin. “That’s actually better than what it is now, eh, LARP?”

  Leonidas glared at her immediately, and confusion rippled around the table before he waved a hand. “Terran jesting, don’t worry about it,” he muttered, hoping none of them would ever understand—a hope quickly abolished when Ceruviel snorted. “LARP. Ha! I understand, now. Thank you, Kairi, dear.”

  Leonidas sighed as his sister gave the Archon a thumbs up, and Bardulf said “I don’t understand” before being hushed by Synthra.

  “This is an actionable idea,” Aylar said finally, her eyes meeting Leonidas’ once more, “but how do we go about it? If we announce it immediately after the Challenge…”

  “Your wedding,” Ceruviel said immediately, her voice cutting through the room. “You announce it, Your Majesty, at your wedding. A Terran wedding, to plant the seeds. Yes, yes, that’s perfect. You and Achilles can marry in the Terran way, and then announce the new name for the Kingdom, as well as the introduction of the new Royal House.”

  Aylar blushed deeply at Ceruviel’s words, much to Leonidas’ confusion, and he blinked when her grip on his hand turned into a vise.

  “Just like the novels…” she whispered, drawing a broad grin from him. Of course, that’s what his future wife was thinking about. She wanted a wedding like the ones she’d read about. No wonder there was no objection from her, the romance fiend that she was.

  “There remains another delicate matter, however,” the Seneschal said after a moment, drawing the table’s eyes to him.

  “What is that, Elder?” Aylar asked, her face pleasantly flushed, still, as she held onto Leonidas’ hand tightly.

  “It seems our nascent [Sovereign] has managed to incur more than a few challenges, even outside of the one relating to Prince Braedon, Your Majesty. They will have to be settled, I think, before anything else can be done. The nobility will want to see that the new King is not abandoning our most deeply ingrained customs, especially if you want them to accept your new House.”

  The Elder looked between both Aylar and Leonidas for a moment before he continued, his words pointed as he did.

  “It will help greatly with your legitimacy if he resolves these matters the way an Alteran King would.”

  Ceruviel sighed at that, and as Leonidas turned to her, his Mentor shook her head.

  “He’s right, Achilles. The Cartellis matter still has to be settled, and there are a few other outstanding duel notices after your handling of Cade,” she said with grim certainty. “I’ve been holding them in abeyance, but I’m not surprised word has spread. More than a few people are also likely incensed at your engagement to Aylar. Your defeat of Braedon should force the vast majority of hotheads to recant, but several will hold to their demands stubbornly.”

  Leonidas grimaced at that, and he looked down at Aylar, who looked back at him with a pained smile, her eyes reflecting a mix of faith and apology.

  “It’s fine,” he said to her softly. “I’ll handle it.”

  The Queen hesitated, and then smiled and nodded as they turned back to the table.

  “Ridiculous,” Kairi said abruptly, her tone mildly derisive as she lost her temper. “Duels? Duels?! Please! What a waste. Just point me at a list. I’ll clear my idiot brother’s debts faster than a duel can.”

  “That would be the incorrect approach, Kairi,” Aylar said before anyone else could respond. Her voice was calm, measured, but firm. “I, too, want to spare your brother the risk—but Mithrander is correct. The duels are as much symbolic as they are martial. If Leonidas is to rule all of the people of Dawnhaven, he must demonstrate that he can do so for both Terrans and Alterans.”

  Kairi opened her mouth to object, but Leonidas cut in before she could.

  “No, Kairi, Aylar’s right,” he said decisively, earning approving nods from Mithrander, Uriel, Ceruviel, and even Parnym, Bardulf, and Sythra. Everyone, in short, barring Kairi herself—whose jaw remained in its tell-tale stubborn luck as he continued.

  “I appreciate the offer, as weird as it is to consider my sister as an assassin, but it’s not going to work. If I’m going to be King alongside Aylar, I have to do it right. That means seeing through the duels.”

  Kairi glowered at him at his words and then huffed in frustration.

  “Whatever. You know some of them will be Contenders, right?”

  “I know,” Leonidas said calmly while he looked around the room, “and I’ll deal with that as it comes. For now, though, I think we need to focus on the immediate aftermath of my duel with Braedon—as well as what we’re going to do about the wedding.”

  Aylar’s hand squeezed his again at the last part, and Synthra’s eyes lit up.

  Leonidas, however, focused on Kairi, letting out a sigh for what came next.

  “Kai,” he said finally. “I think it’s time we reached out to Mom and Dad.”

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