Chapter 3

ALESANDRA MADE her usual rounds before meeting that morning. There was a noticeable tension in the air even among her men in the King's Guard. Zaire, their leader, had his hand on the hilt of his sword as he came to whisper in her ear that Gabriel Balan had indeed reappeared. Her father, Ozias, was less impressed than the Captain. Although her father was being wheeled to the meeting in a wheelchair, with a cannula of oxygen connected to his nose, his spirit remained as combative as ever. These days, Alesandra often wondered if he was suffering from the early effects of dementia.

"Gabriel and I are old friends," Ozias remarked. "He's no usurper. Doesn't he have countless properties abroad he's busy maintaining? He's an old man, why bother himself with the day-to-day annoyances of Manna City?"

"Balan might not want the throne for himself," Alesandra muttered as she stared into the crowd. Although she had spoken to Blake already, something about all this was making her extremely uneasy. "But, he might try to put someone else there instead. Excuse me, father."

Alesandra left her father with his attendants. Although she was supposed to be the steward of the throne, she didn't have the gall to confront Gabriel Balan head-on. Not even her father would have dared to do that even though Gabriel was ten years his junior. Back in the day, even King Wynn would have stepped aside if he came across Gabriel Balan in a dark alleyway.

She went looking for Blake, but it was Melody she found. Alesandra came across the slender, young girl holding her son in her arms and chatting with Octavia and Eden. Oh, that was a riot, that Melody Balan was getting along with Eden Catesby. From what Alesandra remembered, Eden couldn't think of enough insults to hurl at Vivienne Thorne. Now, that she discovered, Blake had actually been married to a Balan, Eden couldn't retract her malicious words fast enough. At that very moment, Eden was gushing about how much she adored the shade of green that Melody was wearing and how it complimented her son Orion's eyes.

"Oh Eden," Alesandra said as she appeared among the girls. "What has she promised you? That she'll set you up with her brother Kezair?" The laughter in the group abruptly died down.

"Alesandra," Melody said with a slight curve of her lips. She handed her to son to one of her attendants and took a step closer. Eden and Octavia both respectfully looked away and stepped back. They knew their place, but Melody continued staring at Alesandra in the eye. The dark-haired girl giggled disrespectfully at Alesandra's comments.

"Keeping the throne warm, are you?" Melody asked. Studying the girl, Alesandra saw but the faintest shadow of sweet, quiet, and shy Vivienne Thorne. Those piercing eyes of Melody's - even back then the malice had been evident behind them. Alesandra had an unsettling feeling about her since the first time they met. "Savor it while it lasts, darling," Alesandra recalled what they used to say about that witch Lydia, her voice was like bells in the wind. Staring into the younger girl's haughty, defiant eyes, Alesandra searched for a retort.

"You shouldn't have come back, Melody," Alesandra finally said. "You know he vowed to kill you."

"Kill me?" Melody asked in mock shock. Octavia and Eden continued to stare down, meekly. "I simply can't wait. Go on now - tell him to bring his worst."

"How dare you speak to me like that," Alesandra hissed, feeling her cheeks growing hot in humiliated rage. "You're a disgraced child of a whore. I am the heir to the throne."

"You are?" Melody chuckled in disbelief and turned to her attendant. "This conversation bores me. If you will excuse me, girls, I have men to seduce. Come to think of it; what's your brother Elaezer doing tonight, Alesandra?"

As Melody left, Alesandra stormed away. She could barely bring herself to utter any niceties the heads of the other houses as she stormed into Sjena Heim. Alesandra went to the only place where she knew she could find a moment alone to take in what had just happened. She went to the private room with the round table of the Great Families.

As Alesandra entered the room and took a couple of deep breathes, she noticed she wasn't alone. The room was almost entirely empty except for a single person who was standing by the Segais tree of the Thorne family. Alesandra approached him. It was Blake.

"Your ex-wife is a disgusting whore," Alesandra noted to him, in passing. When he didn't answer, she noticed that he was standing with a distracted look on his face. "What's the matter?"

It took Blake a few minutes to finally acknowledge her presence. He turned and leaned weakly against the table as though he had all the air knocked out of him. "Alesandra," he started, quietly. By his tone, she already knew what he was going to say, and she knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"You're going to help Balan, aren't you? And his daughter," Alesandra said as she folded her arms over her chest. "What do they have on you?"

"I don't want this, any of this," Blake whispered as he studied the murals on the ceiling. Alesandra looked up as well. Amidst the clouds and rays of sunlight that had been painted on the gold-gilded ceiling was also a figure of Acestes Sarastri, the original king of Manna City. She hadn't look up in a long time. She wondered what was the significance of it now, that Blake was suddenly absorbed in it. "What if I told you Gabriel Balan is going to attempt to put me on the throne today?"

"I would tell you he's mad," Alesandra said. "And it is within your right to refuse."

"And if he finds another way, despite my refusal?" Blake asked. "Would you lead the rest of the Great Families to attack me?"

"No," Alesandra said, carefully. "I would not. Not yet. You once told me you would kill Melody Balan. Is that still your intent?"

"Yes," Blake said quietly. "I never go back on my word, Alesandra."

"And will you lead us into war against these Nivarrins?"

"No," Blake said. "You know as well as I that there would be no war, they would simply crush us."

"Good," Alesandra said and squeezed his arm. "Then, you will face no objection from me."

***

Alesandra took her place under the Sarastri crest at the table. Octavia appeared beside her, sitting in for House Winther although everyone knew she would only sit there until Alaric recovered enough to be wheeled in. Although she was eager, Octavia was too flighty and immature to be taken seriously. Alesandra wondered if push came to shove if she would rather have Alaric at the table in the event of a coup against the throne. Alaric and Blake got along, from what she recalled, but Alaric's loyalty could be bought whereas Octavia was too absorbed in shopping and boys to be of any use to anyone.

Alesandra saw her father, Ozias, appear with Gabriel Balan close behind. The two of them were chatting like old friends. Her poor foolish father had no clue what was looming just beyond the horizon. She saw Gabriel slowly sit down at his place at the table and remark to her father that his knees weren't what they used to be. How old was Gabriel? Sixty? Her father was right, although Gabriel still appeared every inch a fearsome opponent, the old man didn't have the energy to deal with the politics of reigning over a city.

She noticed that Blake was still staring down at the willow tree carved into the Thorne place at the table. He didn't seem to acknowledge that anyone else was in the room. What was it that she saw in his eyes? Sadness? Dismay? Alesandra did not doubt that he was speaking truthfully when he told her he didn't want the throne.

But, necessity was about to dictate otherwise. Alesandra wondered if one day, she would have to rally the Great Families to rise against him, to kill him as they had once done to Wynn's brother. Her gift of healing was weak, but it could be interpreted as a claim to the throne. Alesandra knew she could convince Jaquet Song and Alaric Winther to support her. Would three houses be enough to stand up against Blake if he had the Balans backing him?

Alesandra wasn't sure. She could rally the minor houses of Catesby, Loveney, Lenart, and Jivete but they wouldn't support her unless they were confident she would triumph. They weren't cowardly in only wishing to support the winning side. After all, if she lost, they would all face imprisonment and death. There was another question at hand, even if she were to triumph, could she execute Blake? He was like a younger brother to her. It was true that he had been led astray by that Balan whore, but was it enough for her to sentence him to death?

Alesandra had been there the day Sebastian Thorne died. Blake never spoke about his father's death. It was a sore topic for him, understandably so. Could she do to Blake's son what had been done to him? And, this case, she would execute more than that infant's father, she would kill both his father and mother. What were the chances of that child growing up without vengeance on his mind? There was a saying among the Janviers that to pull out a blade of grass, one must rip out its roots. There was no way to finish this job half-way. She would have to kill the child as well.

"A vote of no-confidence in Lady Janvier," Gabriel proclaimed at the opening of the meeting.

"No-confidence?" Ozias demanded, in surprise. "Then, confidence in whom might I ask, Gabriel? In you? Are you staging a coup to overtake the throne?"

"Let me finish, Ozias," Gabriel said with an angry wave of his hand. "In front of all these young people at this table, you can at least pay me enough respect not to interrupt me."

"Very well, Gabriel," Ozias said with a sigh. "For old time's sake."

"I would like to put forward my suggestion to a vote by the ten families instead of the usual six," Gabriel said. "For the good of this city, there must be no dissidence to the decision made here today."

"Always after absolute power aren't you, Gabriel?" Jaquet Song said with a smirk. An astute observation, Alesandra noted warily. Perhaps the Songs were good for more than maintaining their manor by the finger lakes and cave exploring. Alesandra knew the room was waiting on bated breath to hear what Gabriel had to say. Balan was never a particularly vocal member of the Great Families - like her father said - despite his family's significant place in Manna City's history. Gabriel's interests always lied abroad. He never had a great deal invested in the future of the city. With Kezair being the way he was, and his daughter Melody a notorious whore, what did Gabriel have to care about his legacy?

It was apparent that this had changed. As Gabriel stood up and paced about the room, glowering at the leaders of the minor houses, intimidating them into submission even before he opened his mouth, Alesandra was starting to understand. Gabriel was fighting for his legacy, a new legacy, that he was seeing for the first time.

"Well, get on with it, old man. Are you stalling?" Ozias said.

"Is the candidate you're suggesting for the throne even in the room?" Jaquet asked, his delicate French accent contrasting greatly with her father's raspy, breathy baritone.

"Yes, this young man has been absent from our meetings for quite a few years, but I believe in the past year he has started to prove himself to be a promising leader. I am suggesting, none other than Blake," Gabriel said as he placed his hands on Blake's shoulders. Alesandra saw Blake flinch at Gabriel's touch, but the young man managed to maintain his emotionless expression. "I have observed him closely over the years, and I believe, always believed, he will be an immensely capable leader on the Sarastri throne."

Seeing the reflexive pained expression that flashed on Blake's face, Alesandra believed Maglania read him correctly when she had said that Blake was an ally in her reign. It was clear, even now, even with the knowledge that Melody Balan was his wife, Blake hadn't completely turned his back on the side of light. Alesandra almost felt sorry for him.

"Really, Grunckle Gab? What experience does my cousin have?" Octavia asked with a flippant laugh. "Blake, do you even want the throne?"

When Blake stared back and didn't answer, Octavia laughed, again. "I didn't think so. I side with Alesandra."

Alesandra accepted Octavia's show of support with reluctance. It was evident that the young girl was the only one in the room who wasn't seriously mulling over Gabriel's suggestion. Alesandra knew what they were all thinking, even her own father, as they glanced to-and-fro between her and Blake. It was the same thoughts that went through her own mind when Maglania had selected her. Why not Blake?

Blake was a shut-in, that was true. He had barely been seen in Manna City since he was a child. But upon meeting him, it was evident that he possessed an immense intelligence behind his green eyes. He was conniving, difficult to perturb, and always prepared for any affront. Despite, his supposed lack of experience, Alesandra felt that he knew much more than he let on.

Alesandra knew that to the rest of them, especially the minor families, she appeared nervous and jittery in comparison. She was certain that behind her back, the old men at the table described her as "shrill" and "humorless." They would be all too quick to accept Blake with his steely resolve and easy, reassuring smile. He didn't have the endorsement of the Sarastris, but he was precisely the kind of charismatic figurehead that older men didn't find threatening.

"What reasons do you have, Gabriel,?" Ozias finally asked, taking a deep breath from his oxygen mask in between gasping words. The excitement of this meeting wasn't doing any favors for her father's heath. "Other than your fondness for the boy?"

"May I?" Gabriel asked as he gestured to the Sarastri Scepter that Alesandra wore at her waist in lieu of her Janvier sword.

Having been put on the spot, Alesandra had no choice but to hand the Griffin-headed scepter to him. Gabriel took the silver staff and gesture to the mural of Acestes Sarastri that stared down at them from the ceiling. "It was said that when Acestes Sarastri first took the throne, this scepter was the purest gold. It's a pity it's lost its luster in our lifetimes. I think it was Maglania Sarastri who once told me that the decay of power was inevitable - that we needed to look outside these walls to continue our lines. I always thought differently." Gabriel placed it before Blake. "Take it."

Alesandra watched with abject horror as Blake wrapped his fingers around the Scepter and slowly, the silver scepter faded into glittering gold. Little by little, the gold spread through the length of the staff, into the winged griffin at the tip. As Alesandra watched the claws of the creature begin to glitter, and then its feathery body, she thought back to her sparring session with Blake. The royal ring had not reacted when she brushed it against his hand. Now, the royal objects were completely under his control. What had happened? What had changed since their last meeting?

It was said that when a special human - an Orlin as they were called in Pearl Tower - binds a demon, a piece of Janvier silver that connects them turns from silver to gold. All that was pale in comparison to what Acestes Sarastri was once able to do. He was able to command all the demons in Aemon. Was it possible that Blake could do this when he couldn't even stop his own father from being devoured by the demons in Aemon so many years ago? There was some trickery at play here, Alesandra was sure of it. This was not the return of the Chosen King, rather Alesandra knew she was watching Gabriel Balan steal the throne.

Edmund Catesby, ever the sycophant, was first to stand from his seat and drop to his knees. Immediately, the rest of the minor houses followed. Loveney, Lenart, and Jivete all fell to their knee, nearly banging their foreheads on the floor in their enthusiasm to prostrate themselves. In a way, Alesandra understood. What had happened in Blake's hands was a miracle, one that they had only heard of in legends and seen in paintings. The gold of the royal scepter meant he had successfully bond all the demons in Aemon to his will.

It was Octavia who sucked in a breath and stamped her foot in disbelief. "Really?" She asked. "Is that a trick? How can you do this when you're a demon yourself, Blake?"

"Watch your tongue, young lady," Jaquet said, sharply, finally giving in to his annoyance. With those words, Jaquet woke up from the trance the gold scepter had cast over the room and immediately dropped to his knees as well. Following Jaquet's lead, the first of the major houses to do so, Octavia dropped to her knees as well. Gabriel grinned as he stepped back and bowed.

"You're not going to demand that Ozias and I kneel to you, are you, Thorne? With our weak knees?"

"No, no, no," Blake immediately retorted as though he too was just waking from a shocked trance. Appearing completely bewildered and deeply embarrassed, he quickly turned to her father. "Please, Ozias, don't get up. Stay where you are."

"You have my support, boy," Ozias said and then corrected himself. "Your Highness." Her ailing father glanced at her and gave her a nod of his white head. "And you, Alesandra?"

"Of course, Blake," Alesandra said, cautiously. "You know, you always had my vote of confidence."

"Very good. By unanimous vote, we have ourselves a new ruler," Gabriel said and clapped his hands together before returning to his seat. "I believe there are no further matters to discuss. I expect His Highness, will have impressed us all by our next meeting."

Gabriel headed for the door, and the meeting was adjourned. Blake turned and left before the rest of the heads of the Great Families were able to discuss the matter further with him. Alesandra removed the royal ring from the finger and went to give it to him. As she followed him outside, she witnessed the rest of the nobles catching sight of the golden scepter that he was holding loosely and discreetly to his side. It was no use hiding it; all those who saw it understood what it meant. Slowly, one by one, every single aristocrat dropped to their knees before Blake. From the awed silence that fell over the room, Alesandra saw that they genuinely believed they were witnessing the return of the true Sarastri ruler.

Across the room, Alesandra saw Melody kneel as well. Unlike the other nobles who had lowered their heads in deference, the pale-eyed girl stared intently at their general direction. Slowly, Melody started smiling coyly, as though she was privy to a secret. Studying the devious girl's Cheshire Cat grin, Alesandra immediately knew Melody had something to do with the miracle that happened inside that meeting room. Before Blake could go to her, Gabriel caught Melody by the arm and nudged her toward the exit.

Alesandra pressed the Griffin Ring into Blake's palm as he stood staring at the Balans' fading forms. Only when she forced him to close his cold, clammy fingers around the royal object did he turn to her with dazed eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I would have warned you, but I didn't know."

"I know, I understand," Alesandra assured him. "Don't forget the promises you made me."