Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave did not sleep on the night before his coronation. This, naturally, worried him to no end—he didn’t want to be seen before all as a tired-eyed monarch with dark bags beneath his eyes. That worry did nothing to help him sleep, of course.

Very early in the morning, before the suns had even risen above the distant mountains, Ansgar of Dandalan came into Argrave’s room. He told him of the plan for today, and Argrave listened diligently despite already knowing how things would play out.

When it was done, Ansgar left, leaving Argrave alone with Anneliese once again. She laid against the bed, still-half-asleep. She had slept well, despite everything.

“Wish I could make a third pledge,” Argrave said once he was gone. “I’ll make my pledge to the people, make my pledge to the Grand Council… and then my pledge to you,” he leaned down until his nose brushed against hers.

“No,” she said in a playful, yet tired haze. She bopped him on the nose with her finger. “Bad. Terrible idea. I will be up there with you, per your insistence. That is bad enough.”

Argrave’s face hardened. “Christ, Anneliese, you’re more than half of the reason I’m here today. If you’re not—”

“I know. Please, do not take that seriously,” she quieted him calmly. “I need no honors, prestige. But if you insist on giving them to me…”

Argrave leaned down and kissed her, then whispered, “I do. I can’t be the only one that suffers in this. Going to drag the rest of you into the spotlight with me.”

She laughed, then pushed him. “Go on. The preparations for this will take some time.”

#####

The day was quite fair. Some light snowfall came and went during the night, but all it achieved was slightly blanketing the city in white—an ill attempt by whatever gods had called the snow, for the city was already mostly made of marble and needed no blanket of white. Still, by the time Argrave departed for the Assembly Chamber of Governance and Commerce, the snow was already being cleared.

Once there, Argrave was greeted by Leopold and the selection of people that had been designated for the coronation ceremony. They had all prepared an elaborate set of clothes for him. Fortunately, it was not done in the style of Relize—the kings of Vasquer had never historically donned that style, and they felt it might damage his reputation for others if he did.

Leopold would place the crown over his head. That was the short and simple of what was to

their self-serving words grounded Argrave in reality. He was not to be named king because he was great—he was to be named king because of these men before him. And why these men? These patricians crowned him because they had men supporting them. These men served these patricians to further their interest. And like this, the line went

over

him as he sat

be here,” Argrave told him. “I don’t think she would be, even if things weren’t as they are presently. She doesn’t seem the type to like

of yours works. It’s a far cry from sending a

hand on Durran’s shoulder. “Keep your voice down,” he said in irritation. “She could hear everything, capisce? What if what you said got to

pushed Argrave’s arm off of him. “Gods, you’re a

there’s tall buildings everywhere. Archers could take position there. I’ve got Leopold’s guards stationed, watching, and what few magic users we have on hand to watch for threats of that nature… yet even still. A higher

looked at the elven vampire, questioning if that was mere paranoia or a good point. Finally, he shook his head. “The point of holding it here is to show my commitment to the

about the matter. Argrave

of the smoothest-looking white silk that Argrave had ever seen. Amber inlays trailed along much of it, like the trails of shooting stars. Her long white hair was bound back in a half-crown braid. Parts of her hair had been woven around a simple silver tiara that did not demand much attention, yet nonetheless

stepped away from the window. “It seems I have

her dress. “The time approaches,” she told him. “I imagine

#####

Commerce. It was only a natural thing—all had come to see the man who would be king. Even more came for the promise of festivities and food. Common laborers and middling merchants filled the square, talking amongst themselves. The wealthier sat behind windows, having rented rooms from nearby inns or perhaps more simply owned the buildings

Serpent, the Bastard of Vasquer. Perhaps he had horns and a devil’s wings, some suggested. Perhaps he was a saint, walking about with a golden aura. Others claimed he was

hearing it. Yet its purpose was achieved—the great crowd grew silent.

of them flanked by patricians. They were dressed rather modestly—or at least, at modestly as the garb of Relize could be. The people half-expected to see someone being carried out on a

of that formation of guards. He was over seven feet tall and did not need to be carried atop a platform to stand out—he did so naturally, like the gods themselves had deemed he was above lesser men. His well-trimmed black hair glistened like obsidian might. His fanciful garb, entirely black and gold, instilled a sense of regality

edge where the crowd awaited. The guards and the patricians stepped aside, all coming to kneel before him. More and more people emerged from the Assembly Chamber, prostrating before the man in their display of fealty. Yet the man all knew as the Kinslaying Serpent stepped past them, stopping