Truths from the Past: Book 5 of the Kinstone series
Chapter 29: The Palace

We arrive at the palace, with Athena hanging close to me. I look around as we pass under the gates and into the main presidio garden. I smile, looking down at the dress Veylana found for me. The pinkish skirt reaches down past my knees with an underskirt. The top of the sleeves is puffed in style and a light-blue fabric over the shoulders resembling a shawl with flared openings at the wrists. The cuffs are woven patterns colored in blues and silvers. Hanging down the front of my chest rests a long sliver tassel. I’m grateful to be wearing tights, which are white and end with my boots from earlier.

It’s nothing overly fancy, but nice.

I scan the gardens, seeing benches and gazebos dotting the gardens. They’re shaded by trees that sit along small streams of water which snake their way throughout the gardens. I smile, peering up the palace. Dozens of looping arches seem to spring out from the ground and connect into the main structure.

I see even more visages of wolves seeming hewed out of solid rock adorn the palace. In fact the entire palace looks as though someone simply popped it from a mountain. No brick lines, or signs of masonry, just never-ending stone.

Towering glass windows line the front of the palace, reflecting the sun’s light, giving a rainbow like shimmer. I tilt my head, seeing a large circular window above the main doors, sort of reminding me of Notre Dame.

I grin softly the further we walk, thinking I really am at Minas Tirith or in Demacia. God I am such a nerd.

As we approach the main doors, a guardsman approaches us. His armor seems more ornate and extensive compared to his compatriots. He’s probably a captain or higher rank.

Tyrion dismounts from his wolf and speaks to him for a moment, with the guard eyeing me. Veylana looks to me, smiling as she rides on top of her wolf. I smile back to her as I ride on Fenris.

Tyrion then looks to us. “All right girls, they are waiting for us.”

We nod and dismount. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I quickly feel the same uneasiness from before, only slightly stronger, and yet again, hidden. As we pass through the doors, I watch the guard-captain eyeing me. I give him a slight nod and press on, wondering why it’s stronger here.

As we stroll through the palace, I wonder why Celes and Serasfall aren’t here. I look around trying to see if they are but don’t replace them. Did they also get the summons? If they did, then shouldn’t the rest of Tyrion’s family be here as well?

I become more and more nervous with each step. I then feel a soft nudging at the back of my head. I peer over to see Athena and Fenris walking behind me. I smile to them, feeling better.

The main hall is vast, perhaps even bigger than the one the Court possesses in France with dozens of red pillars that seem to reach into forever.

All around me I see scores of people talking to each other. A few turn their attention towards us, with some towards me. I can feel their judging glares as they pierce me like daggers. Their eyes seem to be filled with contempt towards us as their whispers seem to grow dark.

Athena sees my growing apprehension and shots a glare at them, causing the watchers to back away. A few remain resolute, with some standing in defiance of her. I then hear a loud gruff, this time coming from Fenris. The lingerers quickly look to him before dispersing. I smile, clinging to both of them.

Our path then leads towards a long spiraling staircase which hugs the wall. I’m not against walking up endless flights of stairs, but clearly someone had a fetish for them as we traverse the never-ending steps. By the time we reach the fourth level, my legs burn in agony.

I look around, seeing even more guards than on the first couple of levels. I tilt my head, wondering how many there is in total, no doubt hundreds the further in with hundreds more patrolling other parts of the palace.

The walls are adorned with painting and frescos depicting battles and history from all across the life of the empire. I tilt my head, seeing several I recognize from the few books Xiphos had managed to replace for me last June. But here they seemed recent, perhaps in the last couple of years.

We finally reach the top of the stairs, letting out a sigh of relief. I look around seeing even more people. I smile softly as dragons, elves, dwarves, gryphons, and even a few goblins and a couple other races march towards a hallway. I feel like I’ve been teleported back to the Court of Mele’vari’o with Mom again.

We turn down the long corridor following after everyone. My ears catch the sound of shift armor. I peer around to see a pair of knights from the residence. I smile to them as they do in return. I scan around me, seeing painting of past rulers. Each painting bears the crest of the house in power at the time. While nearly all are Nethune, I see a few from Shyair, bringing a smile to my face.

As I turn my attention back down the corridor, I smirk, wondering how long it would take me to rush the entire distance.

Our trek comes to an end with us arriving at a pair of massive doors. Crystals again adorn nearly every facet with again more images of wolves carved into the snow-white wood against swirling patterns of gold and silver. I gaze at it, wonder if it’s the same wood as my Ze’creisch.

Veylana leans over, “Beyond those doors lies the throne room.” I nod slowly

The guards standing by the threshold halt our advance. They bow to my uncle.

“Greetings, Lord Tyrion,” says another guard-captain. He then looks to me, “Might I ask who this child is?”

My uncle looks to me, “She is Serasfall’s ward and while here, under my protection.”

I feel slightly tense as the captain eyes me. Fenris and Athena both stick close to me, ever watching him.

The captain nods and steps into the throne room. “Presenting Lord Tyrion of House Shyair,” he announces in a booming voice.

I feel my heart leaping in throat. Both wolves nuzzle me gently, calming me with a gentle chill. I smile holding onto them.

Tyrion then steps forward, followed by Veylana and their wolves. I take a deep breath, mustering up the courage and walk inside as well.

My eyes instantly flare around the massive room. I hear dozens upon dozens of people as they speak to one another. I smile softly, again recalling my visit to the Court with Mom. I nearly at times hope to turn around and replace one of her friends talking to the others. If anything, Master Andriy. Sadly, I replace none of them.

The throne room seems to be the size of the parliament chambers at the Court, while being more circular with windows lining the walls. The floor has a single long red carpet reaching from the doors towards the throne itself.

As I look around, I see banners draping from the ceiling, a dozen in fact. They all bear the crests of the Lesser Houses of the Citadel as I learned them to be. I smile softly, seeing the crest of Titalos, making me think of Viktor.

The throne itself sits atop a small, five-step platform, giving the ruler the appearance of being higher than those in attendance. The empty throne is a stark white wooden seat with embellishing and intricate swirling carvings.

Hanging over it rests four more banners. The two on the outside are clearly Drakthul and Laevatain. In the middle, and hanging directly over the throne and sitting higher, are ones bearing the crests of Shyair and Nethune. I stare at them, sighing softly. It makes sense that the Great Houses would be the ones closest to the throne being Dewloura’s founding houses.

I wish I could take out my journal and record everything, but I can’t.

I pan over to see groups of people huddled together as they talk. Dragons speak with elves and dwarves. Judging by their body language, which I can describe as calm yet cautious, I can tell their conversation is friendly and cordial.

Slightly off-center from them I see goblins speaking to with dwarves. Somehow I can’t seem to picture their dialogue being that of commerce. Both groups are constantly looking around, eyeing the others gathered. I glance a couple of gryphons speaking with a few other dragons and some from other houses.

One group that instantly catches my eye is from Laevatain. The group exudes immense magic power, yet it's buried deep. I smirk, knowing I’ve met their descendant and all the trouble I’ve had with her.

Given their status as magi, their attire is flowing and shimmering like silver with thin hoods and capes over dresses and even the suits follow similar lines. I almost get the impression their clothes were simply poured onto them rather than woven. Heh, Beast Wars reference. Yep, geek to the end.

Another group further to my right is from Drakthul. Several men and women speak in slight hushed tones that I couldn’t even hope to discern the conversation given the cacophony of voices. The men are adorned with sashes while the women wear shawls. Each piece is intricately and ornately woven with patterns denoting status.

I turn my attention back towards the throne. Off to the side I see one final group. I sigh to myself as I see them bear the crest of Nethune. I really shouldn’t be surprised since they currently reign over Dewloura. I feel my skin crawling the more I stare at them.

My eyes then catch a waving hand. I glance over to replace Selene smiling and waving to me. While I know of her in the future, here she doesn’t really know me. That I have for my advantage. Yet the question is…if she knew me here in the past, then why not in the future? It’s a circular question and problem, chicken before the egg I guess. And a question I’ll have to answer another time.

I glance back at her, seeing her smile widening the more we maintain eye contact. As she leans over to talk to someone, I turn away. It’s honestly a little sickening that she’s interested in me.

Another thing that catches my attention is that everyone is armed. I scan the room confirming this. One would think that weapons would be banned this close to the ruler. Yet…no one is thinking twice of bearing them out in the open. I look over and see that both Tyrion and Veylana are also armed. Strange how I missed that.

Fenris and Athena both stay close to me, each with their ears on a slight swivel. I smile, stroking their fur. I do see several more wolves present within the throne room. Doing a quick count, I replace about dozen or so in attendance. Several wear collars, giving them a lesser visage of status they’re owed. Yet they still hold their heads with pride.

Athena looks to me, “Are you alright, little Aria?”

I smile, nodding to her, “Just taking in everything.”

She smiles, nuzzling my cheek.

Fenris lowers his head to match my gaze. “This is different than before,” he states. “I am glad to be in the open with you.”

I smile, stroking his face. “I agree, Papa Wolf. Although I’m still nervous.”

My bonded gently nudges my face, “Stay calm, little one. For we are here with you.”

I smile, feeling them groaning reassuringly against me. I then feel something twitching, something being hidden away. I glance around the room trying to locate its source yet nothing comes up. I blink a few times, trying to sense whatever it was.

I tilt my head slightly as I recognize this feeling. It’s the same I felt while at Diana’s house. Something is being hidden away from me and also everyone present yet no one seems to catch onto it.

“Lord Tyrion,” I hear being called out.

I look to see a tall, dark-haired man walking towards us. On his chest bares the crest of something I recognize instantly, which makes me smile a little.

“Ah Anteon, good to see you again, my friend,” replies my uncle.

The man smiles as he stops and bows to him. “And you as well, my Lord.” He then looks to Veylana, “Greetings be upon you, young princess.”

She smiles and curtsies, “And be on you as well, Lord Titalos.”

The man smiles as then looks to me. His eyes shimmer with the same familiar gentleness I know in my time, belonging to another. “I do not believe I know of this child, my Lord,” he states.

Tyrion looks to me, “This is Aria. She is my sister’s ward and has been with us for over the past month.”

Anteon smiles, “I see. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance young lady. Might I ask how you come to be with us?”

I blush softly, “I came from outside the city and was taken in by Serasfall and her daughter.”

He nods, smiling gently, “Well, Lady Aria, I am happy to see you attending this with us.”

I nod, “Thank you sir.” I grin to myself, yep, this must be Viktor’s great-grandfather.

He then looks to both of the wolves standing beside me, bowing his head to them. “Greetings, Lady Athena and to you as well, Master Wolf.” Athena bows her head to him while Fenris gives him a simple nod.

My uncle and Anteon begin speaking with one another, stepping slightly aside. Behind Anteon stands two men, both baring the crest of Titalos. Anteon smiles as he catches this. “These are my sons, Lady Aria.”

I smile and nod as they step forward. Veylana and I talk with them. Both men are in their late-teens, early-twenties, with short cut hair. The elder of the two seems to be growing the faintest rim of a goatee, while his brother is clean-shaven.

I feel at ease as we talk, like being with old friends. Each is honest and sincere, and I replace them to be good men and pleasant to be with. As to which one is Viktor’s grandfather I can’t tell. I do catch Veylana being interested in the elder brother. I smile to her, giving little nudges. She in turn blushes softly.

“All be still as His Majesty, Vikarion Arthles Nethune, enters,” booms someone.

The room instantly goes silent as a tall, dark-haired man, with graying lines and matching short beard enters from behind the throne. He wears a long coat, bearing the sixteen crests of the noble houses. I tilt my head, thinking this feels straight out of Star Trek with the Klingon chancellors wearing something similar. A thin, golden crown wraps around his head. Around his neck I see a pendant with visage of the Xur’canah resting against his chest.

Everyone in attendance turns and bows to him. I look around, seeing that I’m the only one not and quickly do so. Fenris and Athena however stand firm and tall. Pride of the wolves, not to mention my bonded is the “king of wolves” as to the name I gave him.

“Please, rise my friends,” says the king. “I thank each and every one of you for coming.” The king then steps onto the floor beyond the throne. “Please continue your discussions. Act as though I am not here.”

The crowd nods their heads and awkwardly resumes whatever conversation they were having. I look on as they do, feeling again back in France. It’s kinda curious when you think about it. Usually whenever the leader of the court enters the room the meeting begins. Now, I remember meeting Lord Tobias with Mom and he didn’t start the session until everyone had arrived and settled in somewhat.

The king strolls around the room, talking and greeting several in attendance. Their conversations are brief before he moves on. He then walks toward us, flanked by two masked knights. Anteon and his sons quickly bow as they step back.

“Hello Tyrion,” he greets.

My uncle bows to him, “Good afternoon Your Majesty.”

The king smiles, “Oh do please dispense with the formalities. You know you are more than allowed to speak frankly with me.”

Tyrion stands and smiles, “Very well Vikarion.” Though it’s really subtle, I can hear a hint of disdain in his voice. Clearly my uncle feels unpleasant around him.

The pair talk for a moment, mostly about family and matters of state. I peer up into the king's eyes, watching their movements. Their straight and unchanging, yet…I don’t know.

The king then peers down at me, “And who might this child be? I don’t recall ever meeting her before.”

“This is Aria,” Tyrion replies. “She is my sister’s ward. Aria traveled here some time ago and today decided to come pay us a visit.” He then smiles to me, “When I received your summons, I brought her along with my daughter.”

I look up at the king, still watching him.

The king then smiles, “Greetings young Aria. I do hope you are enjoying our fine city.”

I curtsy to him. “Greetings be to you, Your Majesty,” I reply. I stand and look squarely into his eyes. “I truly love this city and its people. The House of Shyair has been gracious to me since I arrived, treating me as their own.”

The king nods as he leans closer to examine me. Fenris and Athena both become agitated the closer he gets. I reach up and stroke their fur, easing them.

“My, what a lovely girl. I nearly feel offended that Serasfall has kept such a beauty hidden away,” he says jokingly. His smile widens, “I believe I could replace a perfect suitor for her from within my house.”

I feel my stomach twisting into a knot. I hate his smug presumption. The more I look up into his eyes, I start to feel that something is...off about him. Gah, what it is with Nethune and hiding stuff from me? I know I could do a full magical analysis of him, but many in attendance would catch on it.

“She isn’t here to be given away,” says Tyrion. “Nor would Serasfall ever consent to such a thing.”

The king chuckles, “Oh calm yourself dear cousin, I merely was in jest.” He then peers up towards the wolves as they sit beside me. He smiles to Athena, then looks to Fenris. “I do not believe I have ever seen a wolf as large as him.”

I step back and cling to my bonded. Fenris stares directly at the king as he wraps a tail around me. I smile softly, stroking his fur.

The king smiles as he watches us. “This wolf must be special to you if he holds onto you as such.”

I nod, looking up at my bonded, “He is.” Fenris lowers his head, nudging mine softly. I smile, stroking his face.

The king smiles as he looks to me, “I see a great thirst within you my dear. You would do well to replace better avenues to greatness within the city.” He then makes a snide glance at my uncle. “I fear that Shyair might be holding you back from achieving what you desire.”

He motions over to his left, “Take my family for instance, we could allow your greatest ambition to be made real if you so desire.”

My uncle glowers at him, “Vikarion, such a thing is not for you decide or even offer.”

The king chuckles, “Oh forgive me and my joking ways.” Tyrion sighs yet holds still.

I grind my teeth at his remarks, like hell I’d ever leave my family for yours.

I take a breath as I look up at him. “I thank you for your kind and generous words, Your Majesty. I know Nethune values ambition, yet I am quite happy to be with whom I reside with.”

He smiles, which much like Selene, makes my skin crawl. “Such eloquent words from one not of this city. I can now see why Serasfall would hide such a treasure.” He then stands, “Perhaps another time, little Aria. But for now, I believe we must begin.” He looks to Tyrion, “I do thank you for this brief respite cousin.” My uncle nods.

The king takes a couple steps back and turns for the throne. I watch as he ascends the steps and sits down. “Now everyone, let us begin why I called for this meeting.”

I let out a long and heavy breath, feeling my chest rumbling as I hold onto it. Both Athena and Fenris nuzzle my cheeks, trying to further ease my tension. I smile, stroking their faces. That was way more intense than I thought something like it could ever be.

Veylana looks to me, “I really wish Celestine or Auntie were here. That man had no right saying what he did. Auntie would have ripped him up and down through the throne room. Celestine might have simply removed you from here.”

I smile to her, “I’ve heard worse things spoken to me. Trust me.” So many worse things than that

She sighs, holding me close. “I’ve never trusted him,” she says. “That entire house is simply pure evil.”

Tyrion glares at her, “Not here in this place daughter.”

Veylana lowers her head, “Forgive me father.”

I smile softly. She’s not lying, and I too can speak from experience on this. I turn and watch as the meeting gets underway.