The Book of Days: Reign of Darkness

XXII: The Coronation

It seemed the Emperor had not expected us to repel him so decisively. He must have thought us a bunch of primitive peasants who would easily be crushed. More fool him. We'd been at war off and on with human kind for centuries.

So we enjoyed what became a lengthy reprieve. The Empire had learned that we would not be cowed so easily and had retreated, for the time being, to nurse its wounded pride.

During this time, I proposed to Thalia, and she accepted. She had taken to living at my parents' house a while ago because apparently an entire palace was not large enough to keep her separate from Kristen's invective. My Dad had promptly installed a lock on the guest room door and given Thalia the sole key.

We planned a June wedding, and the news spread like wildfire all over the plains, even reaching Eldor on the eastern shore. Traditionally a royal wedding ceremony would take place in the palace, but due to Kristen's antipathy, Thalia had requested that we be allowed to marry just outside Ranha. Her request had been granted.

She also asked my dad if he could help make a way for her foster parents to attend; he heartily agreed. So it was that the day before the wedding we took a trip to Survival. I had wanted for some time to see her childhood home, and wasn't about to pass up this opportunity.

It was about the size of Ranha, with maybe slightly fewer people. Everyone stopped and stared as we trotted into town on horseback. A balding man in a bloodstained apron stopped us, and gaped, "Thalia? Thalia Breton? Is that you? Nemhra's beard, you've grown. It seems like only yesterday you were a little slip of a girl. And your ears... you're an Elf!"

She nodded, saying, "Garret Hood, may I introduce John Whittingly. He's the butcher. Mr. Whittingly, this is my future husband, Garret Hood."

"Future husband? Always figured you to wind up with that Mornfowl boy, I did. You two were like two peas in a pod."

"How's Mr. Thatcher?" She asked. "I'd love to see him again." The butcher's expression darkened. "Terrible accident. He was... kicked by a horse. Poor old man forgot himself and walked right behind one. He passed away right there in his corral."

"Oh, no! Oh, that's awful. He was such a kind old man. Before we leave, please show me where he's buried. I'd like to pay my respects." The butcher nodded and said, "Good to see you again. Oh-- by the way. Your father explained about you going away and all that. We found out not long after how the Emperor found out about you.

"It was Chatham Spilner. Apparently, he blew his fortune in Morwen and got drafted into the army. He must have told them all about you. We only know because he had the nerve to turn up back here with a platoon of soldiers looking for you."

"Chatham? That doesn't surprise me," she spat. "He didn't manage to kill me, so he figured he'd sell me out."

"What do you mean, he 'didn't manage to kill' you?" I asked, horrified. She shook her head. "I'll tell you later. We'd better get a move on. We've come to invite my parents to our wedding," she explained to Whittingly.

"How in the name of Nemhra are you planning to get them there?" He exclaimed. "Thalia, you're the Empire's most wanted person. You're not safe!"

"We have a safe Way," she assured him. "We can get straight from here to Ereth Murna in the blink of an eye. It was good to see you again, Mr. Whittingly."

"Nemhra's beard," he swore again as we went on. "The world just gets stranger and stranger."

We stopped at Thalia's old house, dismounting our horses. She knocked on the door, and when her father opened it, his face lit up like the break of dawn. "Thalia! But... how.... oh, how I've missed you! Come here!" He wrapped her in a burly bear hug, laughing all the while. "Evelyn! Come and see! Thalia's here!"