Rise [Bruno Mars]

Chapter fifty-five

Chapter fifty-five

The celebration persisted. If Joseph was vexed about Bruno's no-show, he did not show it. Coolly taking a draft of wine, he watched as workers and guests alike shuffled to the tables once dinner was announced, servants pooling from the entryways rolling carts and carrying domed platters. Delightful music and eager appetites greeted them. The courses had not yet been disclosed and still, mouth-watering spices managed to fill the air, suggesting they would not disappoint.

Joseph rose from his seat, motioning for me to do the same. "It is time."

To my surprise and relief, the nerves I previously anticipated failed to swarm as I stood and faced the crowd. All six advisors stood with me. Servants halted their preparations and gave us their undivided attention. Across the room Douglas stood. One after the other, men and women noticed Joseph and I standing and followed suit. The ballroom quieted. They all stared.

"Erik Leon," Joseph called out. "Please come forth."

Erik Leon was a petite, white-haired man, parting through the crowd with his left hand oddly shaped and seemly stuck to his chest. When he arrived at the foot of the dais he bowed deeply, nose to the floor. "Sir—sir Joseph," he stammered, as though he were brought up to be executed, "miss Adrian."

"Head up, Erik Leon." Joseph waited for the old man to straighten before addressing our curious onlookers. "Erik is one of our oldest operarii, working as an aedifacator for over thirty-five years. Adrian and I, and I am sure the rest of us, personally thank you for your service."

The room erupted into applause, the guests clapping politely. It was clear Erik was well-loved. He smiled meekly.

After it hushed, Joseph asked, "Do you have a family, Erik?"

"Ah, yes," the old man replied, less wary. "Sir, I have my Melanie, and our five children. Two of them are really little. Adopted, you see. . ."

"And for how long do you get to see them each day?"

Erik gulped, careful with his word choice. "Not for long, and some days not at all, sir. We are busy. Too, too, busy. . ."

Joseph stared down at the elder operarii. "This night," he said quietly, "I grant you your release."

The collective gasp that followed was the exact reaction I hoped for. Emancipation was conducted under only two circumstances: it was given, or one reached the age of seventy. Both were extremely rare. In the fifty-one years of this palace's existence, only two operarii had been released. No one had ever been given it.

So Erik stammered, absolutely dumbfounded. "E-excuse me, sir?"

Joseph merely looked at him. "Two guards and two horses await to take you and your family as realistically as far as you'd like to go. And I urge you to go. Raise your family. Be with your woman."

I feared the old man was going to be sent into cardiac arrest. "I—I will, sir. Thank you, sir!" He fell to his knees with a great sob. "Thank you!"

The people went manic. My eardrums burst with their cheers. Some yelled in disbelief, grabbing their comrades in their rushes of amazement. Joseph stepped down the dais to help the old man to his feet. This time he did not wait for the crowd to settle down; his voice carried through them, calm and powerful.