Silence descended, and all eyes turned toward Matei, who had been called Koreti once. Back when he had been presumed a legitimate son of the emperor, a legitimate heir to the throne. Back when he had been a prince. Back when he would have been content to be such a leader, divorced by rank and glory from the people who depended on him. 

The shock of the words had pierced Matei's breast like a spike of ice, and he let the shock, the dread, settle around his shoulders like a leaden mantle before speaking.

It took a moment, but no one else broke the silence first. "Kaori, be reasonable."

"I am being reasonable," Kaori said. "I have considered this at length, and it is the only logical course of action. You must wear the crown."

Matei looked around the room. Aun's face was pale with surprise, but a smile was twitching at the corners of her lips; she was doing her best to remain composed, he could tell, but she seemed pleased. Mhera's expression was impassive; he could not tell what she was thinking. If she was shocked, she hid it well. Eovin, for his part, looked pensive and serious. It beggared belief—could he possibly be considering the ludicrous suggestion?

"The only logical—Brother, you must be joking." Matei laughed in disbelief. "I barely escaped the executioner's block with my head. The Starborn believe I am responsible for the death of their emperor and for a thousand worse crimes. They will never trust me. They don't know me—"

"But the Arcborn do." This was from Aun. Aun was of Hanpe, where women were equal to men and there was little differentiation in class and rank; she was unabashed at speaking out of turn. She continued, "The rebels and our sympathizers have followed you for years, Matei, and they will follow you still. They trust you. They love you. And if this is truly the day of our freedom, they would honor you as their emperor."

Matei turned his glance to Eovin, beginning to feel desperate. "Eovin, please. If we are to choose a ruler, it must be you. We cannot fail to recall that you are descended in an unbroken line from the Blessed Sovereigns themselves. Your lineage may have been obfuscated by history, but you are royalty...my lord."

The lorekeeper was obviously taken aback. He shook his head. "I was not raised to be a king, Matei. I am a dusty, ink-stained scholar; my life's work is to keep the history of our people. I was not made for the throne. If you claim I should be emperor because of my bloodline, well, my son: it is your bloodline, too."

Before Matei could react to Eovin's words—my son—Kaori broke in. "Besides, you tie the old world and the new together. You were the golden prince of our people as a child, and you led the rebellion as a man. It must be you."

Matei rose, his hands clenched into sweating fists. He had suspected he would not like what Kaori had called him here to discuss, but he had expected Kaori to lay firm claim to the throne, to begin to define his terms for negotiation with the Arcborn. He could never have guessed what the elder prince would demand. "I ruled nothing. I guided the rebellion as part of a council of leaders, Kaori. I wore no crown. Once, when I was young and stupid, I wanted that crown. Now? Now I do not want it!"

"No sane man would, Brother, but it is yours." Kaori reached out with his remaining hand and picked up the crown that lay on a velvet cushion at his side. He held it for a moment, gazing down at the golden circlet with an expression Matei could not read. Then, he held it out to Matei as if it were no more significant than a children's story-book.

Matei looked at the crown. He knew, perhaps as no other man living knew, how dangerous such a thing could be. He turned to Mhera, who had been silent until now. "Mhera, be the voice of reason. Tell him he's mad."

But Mhera only shook her head. "He's not mad, Matei. I can feel it. Remember? You were crowned by the holy light." She had lived for years as a holy woman, a Daughter of Zanara, at the Haven. Her eyes were still as cool and gray as the saltwater spray, and while Matei saw sympathy in them, it was no comfort to him. Nor were her words.

On the day they had been sentenced to die, Matei and Mhera had ascended the steps to the executioner's platform certain of their fate. A well-timed arrow and a surge of violent unrest had saved them. At the end of it all, something nearly unprecedented had happened, something Matei still had not fully considered. It had been a vision, a sign from the heavens: he and Mhera had been crowned with stars. Had he not seen the light himself on Mhera's brow, he would never have believed what had happened. After all, it hearkened back to the moment centuries ago when Katyander and Broycan, the Blessed Sovereigns, had been blessed by Zanara with just such a sign.

Clenching his fists tighter, Matei took a few steps out of the circle of chairs. "You can stay and debate this until night falls like the empty-headed fools you are, but I refuse. I will help the city rebuild. I will give my blood and my sweat to the Arcborn here in Karelin. But I will not wear the crown."

The clang of the emperor's circlet hitting the marble floor resounded in the stillness of the room. Kaori staggered to his feet, red-faced with the effort. Aun reached out to steady him, but he roughly pushed her away with his shoulder; she stumbled back a step, one hand still slightly raised, and frowned.

Kaori cried, "Look at me! Look at what you did to me!" He wagged his shortened arm, making a wheezing sound of pain. "Look at what you did to the man the world might name emperor! What can I do now? Nothing! You want to build the city again? Build it with your two good hands! You want to take up arms to defend the defenseless? Take them up: you are able! I cannot even sign a decree, Matei. You say you do not want the throne any more? Well, I never wanted it—it was always to be yours, and when you were gone, it was Koren's, and he has fled. You are all that remains!"

His chest heaving, he continued more quietly. His brow was damp with sweat. "Take the bloody crown and wear it. May it be heavy upon your brow. It is what you deserve, your triumph and your curse. Zanara herself marked you with the white star of light as you stood before the sword. It can be no other way."

Matei stared at his brother. It was clear that Kaori's wounds still pained him greatly, and each indication of the pain he was in pierced Matei's heart with guilt. He swallowed and lowered his gaze. The golden circlet his father had once worn lay glittering like a coiled snake on the floor.

The silence, brittle and complete, stretched out between them until Matei was convinced he could hear his brother's pulse beating in his own ears. At last he knelt and, with a trembling hand, he picked up the crown. He heard his own voice as if from somewhere very far away—from a world that was not his world. A life that was not his life.

"Kaori, my brother, I accept the burden you lay upon my shoulders. I promise to you on our mother's blessed bones that I will feel the weight of it every day of my life. And I promise I will serve this realm to the best of my ability. But I will do this on one condition only."

"What?" Kaori asked, terse.

Matei turned his gaze to Mhera. "I will not sit the throne alone. I was not the only one crowned with a star."

Mhera's mouth dropped open.

Cutting her off before she could speak, Matei said, "These are my terms. I will co-rule with you, Mhera, or not at all. If this is my burden because Our Lady marked me, it is your burden and your blessing likewise. Do you not agree?"

She shook her head, obviously shocked. "But I'm not...I can't rule anything. I was never in line for the throne!"

Master Eovin broke in, slowly, as if still thinking through the matter as he spoke. "It makes sense to consider this. First, there is no denying the sign Our Lady gave to us: you are clearly favored. Both of you. There is a historic precedent in the co-rulership of our Blessed Sovereigns; Katyander ruled in her own right, Mhera, and Broycan was well-respected among the people before he ascended to the throne. Second, just as Matei is a bridge between the past and the present, the Starborn and the Arcborn, so, too, are you, Mhera."

"No I'm not—I'm a Starborn woman. The Arcborn would never trust me."

"On the contrary, my lady. Matei is the Rebel King, the champion of the Arcborn. This is his identity now; it supersedes his past as the favored prince. And you, Mhera, are wholly Starborn, a holy Daughter of Zanara. You represent the Starborn people. But you also walked the path to the gallows, intending to end a war with your sacrifice. Perhaps the Starborn will be more receptive of a new reign if you are a part of it, but it would be my hope that the Arcborn—like Aun, and like me—would not fail to see what you were poised to do for us all. Not to mention your gift, my child. The Sight will always be a burden, but it may also provide you with insights to guide your decisions as rulers of the realm."

Matei watched Mhera's face. Her lips quivered; he realized he had seen that look on her face a hundred times when she was a girl, brought about by much smaller troubles. It hurt to remember her as she had been then: innocent, safe, and free. The hands which had been so steady on her tea cup just moments before had begun to tremble.

Seeing her thus, Matei was overcome with sorrow—but not with regret. He took a step toward her and lowered himself to one knee. He laid his hands over hers, pressing them against the warm teacup to steady them, and looked up into her face. "You won't be alone. And neither will I. You are more a leader than you think, Mhera."

"Please, I can't just—I can't simply consent to this. Please," and here she turned her desperate gaze to Kaori, "may I think on what has been asked of me?"

Kaori had not spoken out against Matei's demand that Mhera join him on the throne. From his expression, Matei could not discern his feelings on the matter; he looked as tense and exhausted as he had before.

"Fine" said Kaori. "Give me your answers as soon as you have them, for if you do not agree and Matei does not take up the crown, we shall have to determine who will. I can only tell you all that it most certainly will not be me." He took a step back and staggered; Aun caught his arm and helped him back into his chair, where he sat with his eyes closed, his face a rictus of pain. "Leave me, please. I am tired." 

What do you think—is Matei being fair when he asks this of Mhera? Is his reasoning sound? After the shock wears off, how do you think she will respond?

Your next update will come on Friday, July 27th! Have a great week, my friends!