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Chapter 31: Five Years of Quiet Rot

Penulis: eeverith
last update Tanggal publikasi: 2026-11-05 23:00:49

A kingdom doesn’t fall in one go. It just slowly rots from the edges in. By the time you can smell it in the dining room, it’s too late.

Myraval fell ill during the five years after the fire at Vareth Hall.

The Emperor Octavian IV; the once mighty ‘Lamp of the Seven Provinces’, who had ruled for thirty one years, had aged and become paranoid. His thick, dark walnut hair turned completely white in the space of a winter. He no longer rode out nor held public audiences. He secluded himself in the
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  • Where The Lowborn Kneels   Chapter 44: The Name of the Benefactor

    They gave him a proper welcome on the fifth day. Every great name in Myraval stood in lines along the walls of the Hall of Seven Lamps.It was The Emperor’s idea. He wanted to properly present him and show him gratitude for the gift from Lumora. It was also a way to be polite and properly name the Lord of Lumora who had so far only been seen in the capital as a grey silhouette on a horse.The ministers complained. The Chancellor grumbled about how it had never been done before and the Master of Ceremonies wrung his hands about the veil. However, The Emperor was determined and so they stood in lines under ten thousand lamps as the herald called the stranger in.He strode down the hall.This time he was wearing black. A plain long coat made of black velvet. It was buttoned

  • Where The Lowborn Kneels   Chapter 43: The Emperor’s Appetite

    The lamps burned late that night in The Emperor of Myraval’s private cabinet.It was small, a dark paneled room with maps on the walls. There was a large oil lamp sitting on a table in the middle of the room. A fire crackled in the grate and four men sat around it. An unnatural silence filled the room.“Nine million crowns.”The Emperor had said this a total of six times since supper. He was seated in a large chair by the fire. His knees were covered in a blanket and he was looking into the flames of the fire. He had a cup of spiced wine sitting beside him but it had gone cold. He had a blank look on his face that none of the three men could decipher.“is not a gift, Father. It is a hook!”“Nine million,”

  • Where The Lowborn Kneels   Chapter 42: A Treasure of Silver

    The chests were opened at midday on the third day. In front of the Emperor, his two sons, the Chief Minister (the Lord Chancellor), forty members of the household and a clerk from every department.There were forty-two chests. They had been brought up from the harbour in a line of carts. They were placed in four neat lines in the grand vaulted chamber underneath the Palace of Lamps. This was where the Emperor’s grandfather once stored the tribute from seven provinces. The tops were iron bound and sealed with grey wax. A Lumoran under-steward walked along the line. Using a small hammer and chisel he tapped each seal. They made a small, sharp and delicate crackling noise like a bone breaking.The tops opened.A mound of silver! It was in bars and stacked like bricks. Pale and heavy. It shone brightly under the l

  • Where The Lowborn Kneels   Chapter 41: The Lord Without a Face

    By the time he reached the shore the sun had risen. The mist was thick, and so they only really saw the lanterns.Slowly a long line of two, thirty figures filed out of the grey mist. All wore dark cloaks and held a lamp inside their hoods. They walked with the solemn pace of a funeral. Behind them was a covered carriage, pulled by four black horses, with the curtains drawn. The wheels made little noise as they were wrapped in felt. Behind them were another line of guards, then a group of loaded carts. Finally a long line of mules carrying iron bound chests. Over them all was a banner. The banner was made of grey silk and had the pattern of a mountain with a single vertical line of flame splitting the top. They couldn’t name this symbol. It wasn’t known in Myraval.The Imperial Wharf was packed. From the water to the customs house there were merchan

  • Where The Lowborn Kneels   Chapter 40: An Invitation From Abroad

    The news arrived in the capital on a Tuesday. By Friday every drawing room in Myraval was buzzing.A lord was coming.Not a local lord. Not one of the bickering, thin, constantly mortgaged lords of the Imperial court. A lord from abroad. From the other side of the sea. From Lumora. An ancient land of mines and mountains. A land famed for its silver and copper wealth. Rumoured for three hundred years. Their rulers had never visited their northern neighbours in living memory.They were rumoured to be extremely wealthy.The first news came from the Imperial wharf. A sweaty, chatty, fat spice merchant named Corvin Aldous. He claimed to have heard it from a captain who had heard it from a harbour master. A huge ship had been spotted on the horizon. Not one ship. Three. A gall

  • Where The Lowborn Kneels   Chapter 39: A Cost of Quiet

    It was four days later when she went to see him. She made sure that it was the right time; the grey evening, The Duke alone in his study with the bottle of good red and everyone else asleep. She was sure no footmen would bother her for two hours.She knocked."Come in," he called.He was tired looking and older than she remembered, wearing a shirt and sitting at the desk with a ledger and one candle. "Evangeline. You should be asleep."“I wish to speak to you about the fire.”A short pause."That was sorted."“Evangeline. It is late.” I didn’t agree. Close the door please. She stood with her hands clasped

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