The Throne of Eleven: An Epic Fantasy Novelette (LGBTQIA+)

Conquest

I had heard a noble say, once, that I was a ruler of peace. Not weak—no, certainly not weak—as I'd won my share of battles in the halls of diplomacy. But I shored our empire up for a peace that would last decades, and at the end of my reign, all our allies were strong and our enemies mollified or else otherwise occupied.

The new emperor had his heart set on conquest.

Our empire had nine large cities, Memekarte the largest of them all, set between the Crescent Desert and the Sapphire Sea.

When the emperor's interest in the social season dwindled, I watched behind him as he called in various noble counselors for their opinions on everything from sea trade routes to food stocks in case of famine to fortifications around the city should we ever be attacked. I did not realize—how could I have thought it possible, with our empire in its greatest state of peace for years?—the true intent of the emperor's inquiries until he rolled out the maps and started calling in the generals.

I could say nothing in the day, all day, as I watched the generals plot their war. But at night in my room with just Cain to listen while Len softly snored, I let my thoughts unravel.

"Not every emperor is a great ruler," Cain said, after my latest tirade had wound down. "And some people crave peace, others war. Both can be good and bad for morale, and both can be good and bad for the economy."

I ran my hand over my evening-stubbled cheeks. "I—the last emperor's peace was built to last. I can't—how can I just stand there and watch—"

"Because it is history. Because every five years, or sometimes less, there is a change in the direction of our empire, and all that is past must stay past. We must always move forward." She shrugged. "And what better time to attack and conquer than in a time of supposed peace?"

I shook my head. "That's murder."

"To you. To someone else, it's strategy."

I pinned Cain with a stare I had not unleashed in months. "Would you have implemented this strategy, if you were the emperor?"

Cain shrugged again. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I don't even have all the facts of this one, but the point is moot because I never was the emperor, and if I had been, I should stop thinking that I have any say in what the empire's doing now. Shouldn't I?"

She pinned me with a hard stare.

And now we walked dangerous stones, overheated from too much of my scorching sun. I sat down on my bunk, my elbows on knees, my chin in my hands.

"If the Elevens do not wish a war, the Elevens will stop it," Cain said. "Trust them."

I said nothing.

* * *

The servant Ajira had our child. We named him Raen, after me. By the measurements of the Elevens, there is hope he will be as tall as I was, before the Elevens reshaped me into a servant.

This child. My child. I held him in my arms, cooing at the squirming bundle.

"He looks like you!" Len declared.

He didn't, of course. Or at least, not like I looked, now.

"He looks like my parent." Ajira grinned down at the bundle in my arms. "The dimples. See? My parent had those dimples, but I didn't get them." She smiled wide to demonstrate.

Wonder of wonders, Cain, hovering in the background on her bunk, smiled too.

My child. Not with my spouse, who was no longer my spouse, though I'd never been formally informed. It was as if I had truly died to that life, and it to me. The visits with my family had stopped after that night at the winter ball. I hadn't seen my other children or my spouse—my former spouse—since.

Three months after the birth of my son, though, I spotted my old Ajira at a palace social gathering to celebrate our army's third victory over the Kingdom of Sar. We'd captured Kema-Sar, a major port city. I'd been to Kema-Sar twice in my diplomatic tours, and I knew the governor well. Were they still alive, now? Would the emperor display their body as a trophy? Would our soldiers loot and rape and pillage the city?

I could only hope Sar would regroup their armies in time and repel our forces from the city. I knew the strength of their armies, though, and the strength of ours. It was a small hope, a futile hope.

My old Ajira, emeralds in his ears, was on the arm of an officer, a tall woman whose other features were dimmed by the flare of her deep red dress uniform, complete with gold ropes of status and chains of honor draping the shoulders. A decorated war hero. Ajira had wanted someone ravenous for war?

It was not the last officer I saw him with, but he chose one two months later and was married just after our emperor's fourth and greatest victory, the capture of Loen-Sar, the last fortress before Sar's capital. Memekarte was in a frenzy of excitement; our empire was about to double in size, and parades of new recruits marched daily past the palace, saluting with two fingers to their foreheads to show their dedication to the emperor and to the Elevens.

Yes, it was the perfect time for a wedding.

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I think Raen ended up with the better partner after all. Thanks for reading! Please like and comment if you loved it, and follow for more updates!