As my learned colleague of the Symposium has told you, Prince-Consort Zar is commonly held by scholars of history to have been the reason that the Silver Princess settled down from the process of conquest to the serious business of empire building, as a result of which the Erethnian Empire as we know it today was kindled, far from the assumption at the time that he was in some way a trophy for Princess Aelina.

He is also correct that my order of mages was particularly sponsored by Zar, in that we were his particular project. I should say here parenthetically that the orders arose in the generations surrounding Zar and Aelina as a way to try to recapture the lost magical knowledge of Llon Llyrith. As elementalists, we of the orange robes draw our powers from similar places to both the Princess and the Prince-Consort, depending upon our natural affinity. A century after these events, we were known colloquially as the Royal Order as several of their descendants had joined - in point of fact, that’s why this colour of fabric is known as royal orange, and not the other way around.

In consequence of this we have access to Zar’s writings and observations of his later years. Zar’s tale of the betrothal is clear that it was not quite as simple or as easy as my colleague has suggested - I apologise to you, sir, for contradicting you so publically - but there are still many relevant points for us to pick through and consider, I think.

*

When Zar presented Aelina with her new maid, Rina, who had formerly been the leader of a movement to stage a coup and overthrow her, Aelina had smiled and told him, “What clever tricks you know.”

Indeed, she smiled with the satisfaction of a warrior offered a new blade. “If you’re not careful, Zar, I shall have to keep you,” she said, and he bowed his head respectfully.

“I shall be pleased to serve as you ask, Highness.”

“Yes, you shall,” she said. “Leave us now, Zar. I have plans to lay.”

“Certainly, Highness.” With his hands clasped behind his back, Zar turned to leave.

As he did so, she felt a strange warm tingle all across her scalp. Unnoticed by herself, her platinum hair - close-cropped like a boy’s, the better to wear her favoured helmet - grew a little longer.

Aelina’s attention was too focused on Rina. “You,” she said, once the door had closed behind Zar, “tell me what you know.”

Rina opened her mouth, then hesitated. “I know you are my Princess, Highness,” she said. “And that I serve you, and that Zar serves you. But I know little more, as he told you. I am…” She seemed to be struggling for the words to describe it.

"I feel newly born,” she said at last. “I know I must have a deeper past, but I do not remember anything of it, and I feel complete without that memory.”

“That seems strange.”

Rina looked back at her with an open expression. “If you say so, Highness. I cannot remember ever knowing otherwise.”

“Hm.” Aelina looked at her thoughtfully. “And you will doubtless say you serve me before Zar, whichever is your true priority.”

The other woman’s brow furrowed. “I serve you, Highness. But Zar serves you too. Do you wish me not to follow his directions?”

She took a deep breath. “For now, let’s make that the case,” Aelina said. Sometimes when she was around Zar, conclusions seemed easy to jump to, and that was no good thing in the world of courtly politics.

She knew she should think about this before she continued with her plans. She knew that Zar had an agenda of his own; she just wasn’t sure what it might be.

“Just as you wish, Highness,” Rina said, and Aelina looked at her thoughtfully and wondered if that could be true.

Zar definitely used magic, she thought.

She walked out of the room and found her page girl - a title not often heard, then or now, but by it is meant the equivalent of a handmaiden for a noble warrior woman, as much her squire (if knighthood as we know it today had existed in these earliest days of Empire) as her lady-in-waiting.

“Find Camila,” Aelina directed her, “and tell her I request and require her attendance.”

“At once,” said Merys, who as the young woman responsible for field dressing any wounds the Silver Princess collected during combat had little respect, if any, for the etiquette of addressing royalty. Indeed, it is said that she did not wait for the door to close behind her, hiding her words from her monarch, before she said, “and about bloody time, too.”

Camila may have had similar thoughts, as she visited the Princess within her quarters in little to no time; of course, it may simply have been that Camila was more sensitive to the duties owed by a subject to her sovereign than was Merys.

“You summoned me, Highness?”

Aelina nodded. “Zar,” she said. Camila frowned.

“What about him, Highness?”

“I know your opinions. I also know - and I thank you for your precision in reporting - exactly where your opinions went beyond facts. You spoke to him and you came away with doubts.”

“I did, Highness,” Camila said, and her heart soared. Suddenly it seemed that Zar was out of favour, or at least might be with some carefully worded answers. She had already come to despair of achieving that.

“What do the others at court say?” Aelina asked. “If you do not know yet, do not speculate. I need to know.”

“Well, there is a somewhat split opinion,” Camila answered. “I will speak only as far as I know, but I must begin by observing - as you know yourself, Highness, Zar has a powerful personal charm when he sets his mind to the task.”

Princess Aelina nodded. She had intended it as a curt nod, but the faintest of smiles touched her lips. Even while she was suspicious of him, the flame he had kindled burned within her.

“From what I’ve seen,” Camila continued, “the people he’s bothered to spend time talking with are largely on his side, or he’s on theirs - I don’t entirely buy that he hasn’t fallen in with an existing power group - but anyone he’s ignored really hates his guts.”

“And who’s who?” Aelina asked.

Camila began to list the groups from memory.

Erethnis’ royal court was if anything rather overcrowded at this time - every duchy, kingdom, principality, and barony that had been conquered still had its representatives; there would not be the first great reform of the Empire’s internal borders until the Silver Princess had an heir of age - and it will therefore come as no surprise to my listener that Camila’s list was incomplete; even with her Princess depending upon her to know everyone at court, it was an impossible task for one person.

Even so, there was a name that was obvious to both by its absence.

“Where does… who was it, the Duchess who brought him here…”

“Duchess Khaja,” Camila supplied, “from Muchkan.”

“Yes.” Aelina, as Camila’s sovereign, was not in the habit of thanking her subject, but a curt nod served the same purpose without imbalancing their understanding. “What is her opinion on Zar today?”

"I… cannot say, Highness,” Camila admitted. “Khaja has rarely attended court of late, and I have had no reason to speak to her otherwise.”

Aelina fixed her with a firm gaze. “You have one now,” she said. “Zar is… useful, at the very least. And I intend to wield this new weapon well, as I do every other.

“But I need to understand it before I may master it.”

Camila hesitated before nodding. “I fear, Highness, that Zar is the kind of knife which will turn in your grip.”

“Perhaps.” Another monarch might have tossed their hair at that point, but Aelina had always worn it helm-short and had never developed the mannerism. “He will bend to me. I just need to find the right… grip, to use your metaphor.”

Camila’s expression was uncertain, but she would not gainsay her sovereign. She rose, bowed, and left to visit Muchkan House.

*

Zar was not away from Aelina’s side for long. As had been her habit for so long it was, to her soldiers, a tradition, she made her way to the barracks to inspect one regiment or another each afternoon at the same time. As she walked along the streets of the capital in full armour, her sword at her side, her helmet tucked under one arm, Zar fell into step alongside her.

“Highness,” he said, “I was wondering how long you intended to keep Court here in the city.”

She shot him a look, trying to gauge his intent. “That depends on the auguries for the weather,” she said. “We have further to march each season, and so I have to spend as little time here as I can.”

Zar nodded. “The march does not get easier?”

“We build roads where we have conquered,” Aelina answered. “But we cannot build at so fast a rate as we can travel, especially where grander bridges are needed. In another four years or so, I may move the throne from Erethnis and place it somewhere more convenient.”

Zar’s eyebrows raised. “I have seen little outside Erethnis and Muchkan,” he said. “Is there a city elsewhere large enough to manage the demands of an Imperial capital?”

She made a dismissive wave with her hand. “An army can be administered from no more than three tents, however large it gets,” she said impatiently. “And besides, that’s the responsibility of those I place the burden on to solve, not my own.”

Zar nodded; she had expected a flicker of irritation to cross his face and be suppressed, as was typical when she expressed herself in this way to a subject under her rule. He seemed simply to take her belief in stride - a definite mark in his favour.

It didn’t occur to her that he might like the idea of total delegation because one day he would want to wield that same authority.

“An empire may be said to be more… complex… than an army, Highness.”

She snorted. “They got along looking out for themselves perfectly well,” she said, starting to walk toward the barracks again. “All this involves is making sure they all move in the same direction.”

“Just as you say, Highness.”

They went a few paces together in silence, but Aelina, an unusual heat rising through her thoughts, took the silence for criticism. “You question my judgement.”

“Never, Highness. Merely the capability of your administrators to interpret your intent.”

She sighed. “You’re saying if I want something to happen, if I truly want it, my attention will have to be on it to ensure it’s not done wrong by mistake.”

Zar cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that is the risk you run, Highness. Unless, at least, you have confidantes who know your intent and who can act in your name.”

“Camila has often made similar remarks.” They had reached the tall gates to the barracks and she stopped there, turning to face him and fixing her gaze upon him. “You and she do not like each other.”

Zar shrugged.

“It would be unwise not to learn to like her, Zar,” Aelina told him. “You have your uses, but a good soldier learns loyalty. A good general understands that loyalty is a path that travels both ways.”

He looked at her in silence for a few moments. “I shall try to think more like a soldier, Highness.”

Inside her there was a strange fury burning. An anger as much at herself as at him; it could be difficult for a ruler to climb down and admit they had been wrong, but if both of her closest advisors thought she was, it might be a necessary part of the future.

And then, abruptly, the burning anger seemed quenched, a sword blade mid-forging plunged into water. Her anger and her resistance boiled away like steam and were gone.

She looked at Zar quietly. “I will campaign this year,” she said. “But… preparations will be made. Does that satisfy you?”

He half-nodded. “I would not presume to demand anything from you, Highness.”

“No, just push me toward it.” Her words were softened somewhat by a weary smile on her lips. “I understand the difference - or lack of one - perfectly, thank you.”

Zar bowed his head more deeply. “Tell me how I can serve, Highness.”

“Not until I’ve decided.” She sighed. “Zar, you’ve done me great service already. I will not forget it. But you will not rush me into an ambush.”

He nodded again, and she continued. “I rule in Erethnis,” she said. “And however pleasurable your company is,” and she did smile genuinely at that, and she felt again the heat between her thighs seem to kindle, “this will be so as long as I am here. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Highness.”

“I will be leaving for the campaign soon,” she said. “This is not in question. But a useful aide could be helpful for me, if they can keep themselves only to my plans.”

“I will, Highness.”

“Do so.” She turned on her heel and stalked into the barracks for inspection.

Zar stood there, watching her go, his concentration on the fire inside her loins.

He needed, he thought, to bed her soon. He’d be able to work on her well if he got that opportunity…

*

The Duchess Khaja was at home in Muchkan House when Camila came to call on her. She sat in her gallery, accompanied by two ladies-in-waiting, the three of them at work embroidering a giant tapestry.

The mood in the room was sombre, surprisingly so when you considered how beautifully the room was decorated.

Though Muchkan was a conquered nation now, a significant portion of its wealth being funnelled into Erethnis where the Silver Princess could turn it into a grander army, this was a lady of the aristocracy and her servants in a time where all three were functionally protected from poverty, and the quality of the Duchess’ life should not have been, to Camila’s mind, much lower than before, except that she was no longer the supreme authority over her own life; her sovereign had assumed that authority.

Yet the mood of the three women was such that you would think they had lost something irreplacable.

Camila knew an opening when she saw it; accordingly she helped herself to another chair nearby and, without bothering with the usual niceties of greeting required by etiquette, launched the conversation by saying “Tell me about Zar.”

All three of them went from silent to mute, a subtle shift in how they carried themselves, an extra tension in the air. Khaja was the first to break it, clearing her throat to ask “What does milady wish to know?”

“What does he want with the Princess?”

“I think you have asked me this before, my lady.”

“Yes. And now I need answers.”

Khaja looked at her two ladies in waiting and sighed. “I cannot give you answers, my lady.”

“I need them for the Princess, Duchess Khaja. I speak here in her voice and with her authority. This is not a request, in short; it is a royal command.”

“I understand, my lady. I fear it is you who does not understand.”

“So tell me, Duchess. Make me understand.”

“I cannot-“

“My lady.” It was one of the ladies-in-waiting who spoke, and her eyes were on her Duchess. Her voice was firm and decisive and yet devoid of authority; a tone Camila found very familiar, as she’d had to use a similar one several times when serving Princess Aelina. “Perhaps I would be better suited to this explanation?”

Khaja heaved another sigh, and Camila felt the weight of it as she never normally would. “Yes,” she said, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “I think you’re right.” She rose. “Please excuse me, my lady,” she said, and she turned her back and left without waiting for Camila’s agreement.

Of course, it was her house, and she was a noble lady… Still, it smarted to be dismissed in such fashion. She turned her attention to the lady-in-waiting, her expression saying plainly that whatever she was about to hear had better have real value.

“Zar enchanted my lady,” she said simply. “She is aware, though I think she was not to begin with. But when she tells you she cannot speak of it, she is giving you as clear an answer as she can.”

Camila’s breath had caught at the first sentence, the possibilities - the certainties - of Zar’s recent activity spooling through her mind rapidly.

“And what do you know of it?”

“Nothing of the method, I fear. But Zar… At first, he had my lady give the orders, but as time went on he issued more and more instructions himself, knowing we would still have to obey them to serve the Duchess. Over time she almost seemed to shy away from making decisions of her own.”

Camila’s lips thinned into a single line as she listened, considering the ramifications of it all. “You know nothing of the method? Even the smallest detail may aid me. And I am sure you do not wish to support him, do you?”

The woman hesitated, and Camila’s eyes widened. From everything she’d heard, there was surely no reason that she would be on Zar’s side. “I do not, ma’am,” she said. “But I must support my lady.”

“And?”

“And my lady’s happiness depends upon his,” she said simply. “Even if she is neglected.”

Camila nodded, beginning to see the shape of Zar’s plans, but also seeing a shape in which they could be contained within the court, and managed.

If she understood them correctly, that was. If she understood his goals, and saw his motives as they truly were.

She wondered whether she could risk being exposed to him again, if he truly did have power to enchant another. But her loyalty was to her Princess, her duty was to her Princess. She couldn’t stand by and let her become an obedient toy to the man.

“Is lovemaking involved?” she asked sharply, an idea having suddenly struck her.

“I… I’m not sure,” she answered. “I cannot rule it out.”

Which told Camila all she wanted to know. She was reasonably sure that the Princess had already bedded the man at least once. If that was part of it, she was safe - but the Princess was not.

She went home thinking gloomily through her options.

*

Princess Aelina rode out of Erethnis at the head of her armies later that week, having spent little of her time alone with either Camila or with Zar. As she left, the two of them stood together atop the city gates, watching the column ride past, then watching it recede into the distance.

Neither of them spoke until the convoy itself was clearly out of earshot, let alone the Princess.

“This is not going to work,” Camila said.

“What isn’t?” he asked her.

“You and I handling administration together.” For such the Princess had decreed, before leaving, to Zar’s visible relief and over Camila’s delicately phrased objections.

Zar turned his head to regard her. “You do not like me, I think.”

“No,” she agreed. “But the problem is that I don’t trust you.”

He inclined his head slightly, conceding her point. “All the same, there is something about all this which we have in common.”

“And that is?”

“Both of us would rather that she had not ridden out again,” he said. “I venture to guess that you, like me, would rather that the army did not ride out to conquer again.”

“That is almost treason,” she said softly.

“Will you report it?”

After a long moment she shook her head. “I will not,” she admitted.

“And why not?”

“Because I do agree with you.” She turned to face him. “Sooner or later, Erethnis must sheathe our weapons, and take them up only against rebellion or invasion. And after nearly a full decade of her wars, we will have a challenge ahead in pulling the empire’s society back toward what it needs to be.”

“Swords into ploughshares. Supporting ourselves with work, not plunder,” Zar agreed.

“You’ve thought about this.”

“Before I was anything else, Highness, I was a merchant.” He looked, for the first time in Camila’s experience, sorrowful. “I understand what happens to a nation at war. I understand how it changes that nation. How those changes cannot sustain in peace.

“The Silver Princess will overextend herself if she is left to her own devices. We both know this, I believe?” He raised his eyebrows, and she simply nodded. “This needs to be corrected carefully.”

“Do you claim this is why you are enchanting her?”

Zar’s eyes widened in surprise, and Camila nodded. Yes, I know, boy. Take this into account before you grow too confident.

“If I said it was, you would not believe me,” he answered at last. “And you are right, that isn’t all of why I do this. But it is common ground, and perhaps we can build a peace upon it.”

Camila was almost certain he was not working magic upon her. She remembered the oddness of their first meetings, and with the news she had learned since, this was now explained - but more importantly, nothing felt as it had then. “Perhaps,” was all she said. “But she is our sovereign. What you do is not right.”

Zar smiled tactfully. “Shall we retire to the palace, where we may develop plans to keep her here longer next winter?”

Camila nodded.

As they turned toward the stairs down from the gate, she said, “She doesn’t usually carry her helmet when she rides out. She prefers to wear it.”

“I wondered that,” Zar said. “But her hair is long enough, I think it might be uncomfortable?”

“You’re right, of course. When she comes back from the fighting, it will be cut close again. I’ve often marvelled that none of the ladies of court have tried to imitate her hairstyle, to pay her flattery.”

“Perhaps they fear being seen as a rival warrior,” Zar said offhandedly.

“Perhaps.” Camila sighed.

Neither of them had voiced the fear she had every time when the Princess rode out; the fear that this time she wouldn’t make it back. The fact she always had before, the fact she was one of the best warriors in her Empire as well as being a talented general and a gifted elemental sorceress, none of it could entirely erase this fear. All it would take was the right vantage point and a bow, and none of those talents would aid her, especially if she continued not to wear her helmet.

*

There were always, as far as Princess Aelina was concerned, the spoils of conquest. When the battle was won, when the enemy troops broke and began to run, her fighting men and women would always take some as prisoners. There were a number of reasons for this, most importantly so that future enemies wouldn’t feel the need to fight to the death.

But Aelina would always inspect those prisoners. She was looking for someone with the right combination; they were almost always a foot soldier, never an officer or a sergeant but someone whose eyes betrayed them to be one who simply followed orders, but who had a courageous spirit, and a powerful body into the bargain.

After the first battle of the year, she picked out a likely candidate and had him delivered to her tent, where she was frustratedly unable to fire the heat of her loins despite his best efforts.

She assumed that this was his issue, not hers, as one might. And yet with each fresh conquest and in spite of the aphrodisiac she found in victory, every time she found an amenable volunteer to bed, she found herself unsatisfied.

It was as if her body was unwilling, the fire of her lust laid but refusing to kindle.

She couldn’t understand what had happened.

*

By midsummer Camila found herself looking forward to the full commencement of winter again, simply because Aelina would return. She had spent the intervening time struggling to drive a wedge between Zar and his faction; she saw his power bloc forming and was determined to prevent it, having a vision in her head of Aelina returning to find a dominant court faction opposed against her.

She wasn’t at all sure how Aelina would respond to a development like that - whether she would cave to preserve the empire or would put them down ruthlessly, hoping that any fallout could be mitigated - but neither outcome was a good one, especially if Erethnis were to hold together beyond Aelina.

The difficulty lay, of course, in how easily Zar made friends. Camila had become convinced that this was due to his magic; with this realisation she had also concluded that his power did not require him to bed his target, though it still seemed plausible that it would help him.

By autumn, it wasn’t just Zar she had to contend with; Duchess Khaja had returned to court and done so with a vengeance, and every time Camila came across Khaja making one point or another, she would always be able to trace that idea back to Zar without much effort.

Inquiries told her that Zar was once again sleeping and eating in Muchkan House, where he had easy access to her. Evidently he was not prepared to go without the pleasures of the flesh simply because the Silver Princess was elsewhere.

Everything about the man was infuriating. She had to figure out what it was that had allowed her to fight off his enchantment - she was sure he would have tried again by now if he hadn’t realised she could resist, she’d been enough of a frustration for him - and if she could work it out, perhaps she could protect her Princess.

*

The victorious procession drifted in three weeks after the winter snows came to Erethnis, marching on roads which were clearer and easier to pass than the surroundings as the Silver Princess pushed her own magics. Being able to campaign longer than any adversary had always been a key part of her strategy.

Camila was at the gate to meet them, though there was no sign of Zar, which she found strange; it was the first time in weeks that he hadn’t been frustratingly present when she wanted him gone during her usual working hours.

As the Princess’ horse came close enough to be clearly visible, Camila gasped. Her helmet was nowhere in sight, and her platinum hair had clearly not been cut the entire time the army had been in the field; it hung down almost to her elbows, though the hardships of the campaign had seen it curl and clump and it was rain-stained and rimed with the dust of the trail.

Strange to think that leaving the helmet off seemed to render the Princess less fit for her court…

Camila descended the stairs from the top of the gate and made her way out to the Princess’ side.

“Well met, Highness,” she began. “News has already reached us of two new conquests-“

“Yes, yes,” Aelina all but snapped, and Camila cut herself off, startled and a little hurt by the unexpected vehemence in the other woman’s voice. “All was well. I have other concerns at present. You may attend me later, in cabinet.”

The Silver Princess rode on brusquely, leaving Camila confused and feeling rather hard done by.

*

As a member of Aelina’s cabinet, Camila had the right and responsibility to attend the monarch wherever she might be, even in her private rooms. When she did so, she found something that left her jaw dropping again.

Princess Aelina was sat on her favourite chair - not the elaborate, ornate Throne of Erithnis, but a low camp chair not unlike the one that she sat on when she went to war. Her armour discarded, she sat in petticoats and undergarments - sturdy undergarments designed to support elaborate dresses, almost a scaffolding draped in silks, but undergarments nonetheless - but this much was, while unusual, not beyond the boundaries of Aelina’s behaviours before a first opening of court for the winter; what Camila couldn’t believe was the woman attending her.

The one thing Zar had achieved the previous year for which Camila gave him grudging thanks had been the breaking up of a coup against Aelina. The group preparing for it had sought to recruit him, and he had chosen to side with the Princess; this was the one thing Camila respected him for.

The ringleader of that coup, dressed in close-clinging but not extravagant clothing, was hand-washing Aelina’s hair, combing out the knots and cleaning it with an attention and devotion that made no sense at all under the circumstances.

“Carina?” she asked, and the woman looked back at her placidly, smiling.

“I think there is some mistake, my lady. You have something very close to my name, but I am called simply Rina. I am her Highness’ handmaiden. May I help you?”

Camila looked to Aelina, who smiled wanly and waved her question away. “I’ll explain at some later point,” she said. “Take a seat, Camila. It’s good to see your face again.”

“And yours too, Highness.” She sat as she was bid and watched Rina lovingly render Aelina’s unexpected long hair into something fit for a queen, flashing platinum in the soft candlelight of her quarters. “I apologise if I displeased you earlier.”

Aelina gave a short bark of laughter. “No, nothing of the sort,” she said. “I suppose from the outside it’s been a good year, but…” She almost seemed to growl in her frustration. “Ancestors take me but I haven’t had a man in four months and I haven’t enjoyed a man since I rode out.” Her eyes met Camila’s. “You know me, my friend. I am a woman of strong appetites.”

“Conquest of all kinds,” Camila said, keeping her voice as level as she could. It was an old joke between them.

Aelina nodded. “And my favourite seems to have lost its savour.”

“Oh, surely not, Highness,” Rina said softly. “You just need the right moment and the right mood.”

With Aelina’s hair fully washed clean and combed out, she had begun to create a construction of the long silver hair, a bouffant wonder of hair kept in place by hairpins and artifice alone. There had been a fashion for it at court a few years ago; seeing Aelina’s platinum blonde shining in the same way, her friend’s face transformed into something more feminine, Camila felt sure there would be again once the Princess had been seen sporting this outfit.

“Well,” Aelina conceded with a small smile, “perhaps you’re right.” She looked up at Camila. “Perhaps you and I should rearrange this discussion for the morning,” she said, “and in the interim, I’ll prevail upon Zar to make me feel better.”

“Yes, Highness,” Camila said automatically. It didn’t do to argue with Aelina in a mood like this.

As she rose from her chair she heard Rina murmur, to her horror, “He’s never seen you emphasise your beauty before, has he? Shall we see how hungry we can make him for you?”