Ashborn 364: Fated Gathering (Part One) (Maiya) (Patreon)
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The minutes before the meeting were oddly quiet, as Maiya circled the small room.
The venue itself was nothing fancy. No elaborate ballroom, no banquet prepared—although the food that would be served was hand-prepared by Ira’s handmaidens under supervision from both Riyan’s and Prince Sanobar’s agents.
In fact, the room in which four of the most important individuals in the realm would have what might very well become the most historic meeting in recent history was as bland as could be. Just four unremarkable walls nestled in the middle of a dozen other squat structures in the Commons of Daha.
In plain sight, yet away from prying eyes, the many entrances to the network allowed Ira’s, Riyan’s, and Sanobar’s forces to enter and exit without arousing suspicion.
Indeed, every building for two blocks surrounding the meeting room had been infiltrated by their respective operatives as far back as several months in advance. The buildings themselves had been bought or rented out by intermediaries, and were thus populated only by the staff of the various dignitaries.
With the number of handmaidens, Sanobar’s personal agents, and Riyan’s rebels that crawled the area, it was perhaps the most secure place in all of Daha.
Maiya had been invited to bring her own security detail, but she trusted no one more than Ira’s handmaidens. They were, after all, on the same side. Even if Maiya was now the leader of the realm’s most hated cult.
It hadn’t been lost on Maiya that with the power she now wielded, she could break away from Ira entirely—forming her own faction and her own power base. There would be precious little the princess could to do stop Maiya, and in fact, Maiya would hold a great deal of power over Ira should she choose to do so.
There was, for example, nothing stopping her from approaching Imperator Andros and informing him of his daughter’s treason, furnishing him with ample evidence. Not only would Ira’s head be on a pike the next day, Maiya would have built a strong bond with the mightiest empire in the realm, thereby vaulting the Children onto the world stage.
Maiya could do these things… If she were backstabbing scum. Personal power and greed held no interest for her. Yes, she’d wanted wealth to lead a good life, but that was in the past. Now… She just wished to see less suffering in the world. And that meant siding with Ira. To say nothing of their friendship and the mutual trust they placed in one another.
Ira had taken an incredible risk handing Maiya this level of power, and Maiya would not be the one to break it.
Riyan arrived first—a full hour before the meeting was due to commence. Saying nothing, and entering alone, he nodded once from behind his facemask and took his seat at the round table.
Arriving without a retinue shouldn’t have surprised Maiya, but she’d have thought even he would bring some protection for a meeting such as this. While true that his personal strength outmatched most any bodyguard he could employ, it was cheap insurance, and an excellent way to flaunt one’s authority, to boot.
Then again, Riyan was never the type to rely on others when he didn’t absolutely have to. Not even when it came to the restoration of his disfigured face… Maiya couldn’t begin to imagine the turmoil that must have been raging within the man even at this very moment.
In typical Riyan fashion, he proceeded to stare a hole in the far wall for the better part of an hour, barely moving at all in all that time. In fact, he was so still that Maiya wondered if she ought to call out to check on him, but the silence was so oppressive that she simply couldn’t muster the words.
In the end, Princess Ira arrived with a retinue of a half-dozen handmaidens. Maiya had debated greeting her liege herself, but decided it was more important to be present in case the other dignitaries arrived first.
“Riyan Savar,” Ira said, nodding to the man seated at the table, and making absolutely no indication she’d noticed the mask that covered half of his face.
“Treasonous witch,” Riyan replied, not bothering to get up, let alone nod.
Maiya was about to admonish him when Ira raised a hand. “It is true,” she said, staring the large man in the eyes. “I have no shame in this.”
“Perhaps you should,” Riyan said with a sneer. “Most nations consider it the worst of crimes. Nations not infected by cancerous rot, that is.”
“Oh, my life would be over should my father come to learn of my plans to overthrow him,” Ira said, elegantly taking a seat across from Riyan. “Actually, I am quite certain he would have me tied to a mast, where I would be subjected to all manner of gruesome torture implements. There would be no rest, for when I passed out, he would bring Life Affinity mejai to heal my body, so that I can be tortured again. And again. And again. My father is quite fond of this part, you see. He will wish to keep it going for as long as possible.”
Shivers crept down Maiya’s spine. This was the side of Ira that terrified her. What kind of person could describe their death in such excruciating detail? And do it while daintily sipping tea?
The kind who can challenge an Imperator, Maiya thought darkly.
“There, my screams of agony would be heard for miles and miles through all hours of the day. Then, when my mind finally broke, and healing orbs restored me no longer, he would finally have me decapitated. Would that be the end of my misery? I’m afraid not. No honorable funerals for treasonous princess, I’m afraid. There, my mangled body would remain for months, rotting in plain view as crows peck at my remains. When nothing but my skeleton remains would my bones be taken down, mulched into powder, and mixed into Ash’va feed.”
Ira set down her teacup, leaned forward, and gave Riyan the most chilling smile Maiya had ever seen. “As a reminder to all those who dare question my dear father’s reign. This is the sort of empire my father has built. The sort of bloodthirsty country so obsessed with war and carnage that they relish in the death and suffering of one of their own. So, you see, Riyan Savar, even nations infected by cancerous rot are perfectly capable of committing such atrocities, and I come here at considerable risk. I am no meek, pampered girl. Just like you, I am staking everything I have on this gamble. Because I believe in a better world and will do whatever it takes to achieve it.”
Ira sat back and picked up her mug, continuing to sip as if she’d just been talking about the weather.
For the first time in her life, Maiya got to witness a speechless Riyan. She shivered… Not only on account of the grizzly fate that awaited Ira… And if Maiya were to be captured, she doubted her fate would be any less gruesome. No—that was to be expected. What she did not expect was for Ira to come into this meeting and immediately put Riyan on the back foot.
Maiya knew Riyan well. She knew he considered himself the most competent, accomplished, and worthy person in the room. In his eyes, Maiya was but a failed student and Ira? The frail daughter of a sworn enemy. A pampered princess, soft and immature. A child.
To Riyan, Ira was many things, but an equal was not one of them.
Not until this moment, anyway. Maiya saw it in his eyes. The way he sat slightly straighter, the subtle shift in his posture. He tried to hide it, of course, but she noticed. Of course she did. Riyan had been the one to teach her, hadn’t he?
And what she saw pointed to one thing.
He fears her…
That realization—that Riyan could fear anyone—scared Maiya almost as much. That Ira had been able to do in a few sentences what Maiya had never had a hope of doing her whole life? That both terrified her and filled her with the sort of awe and respect that a man like Riyan never could.
That was power. True power. The power to make even the mightiest foe dance on the tip of your fingers… And witnessing it made Maiya giddy. Though she’d progressed by leaps and bounds over the past year, she now realized she’d only just taken the first steps into this world of politics and intrigue. Even if she devoted herself to the craft, would she ever match Ira’s sublime mastery?
A series of courteous knocks broke her out of her thoughts.
“Announcing the arrival of the esteemed—er, yes. Yes, of course,” the muffled voice said from the other side of the doorway. “Announcing his arrival.”
“You may enter,” Maiya said. As the designated arbiter, it fell upon her to ensure all the customs were followed. Though for a meeting involving Riyan, Maiya felt things like decorum went right out the window.
The door swung open and two plains-clothed guards entered the room, sweeping their eyes over the space before making way for their liege.
A tanned, well-dressed man in his early twenties strode into the room, and while his clothing could have passed him off as any one of the many members of Hiranya’s well-to-do, his gait and the way he held himself immediately gave him away as a person of stature.
It was good I insisted he be shuttled here out of sight, Maiya thought. Prince Sanobar’s guards had insisted on having the prince walk through the streets to the venue, claiming it would arouse the least suspicion, but Maiya knew that most royalty was entirely unable to hide their tells. If anyone was watching, they’d have spotted him instantly.
Instead, Maiya had arranged for her handmaidens to have him ride in the back of a wagon before guiding him through back alleys and other buildings her people had commandeered before finally having him arrive here.
There had been a couple of reports of suspicious individuals tailing the prince as he left the castle. Maiya’s handmaidens had quickly lost these individuals, and in fact, it was they who were now being monitored by her own forces. It would seem that her caution had proven warranted.
Surprising everyone in the room, Riyan rose from his chair, hurried to the prince—shoving the two guards who attempted to stop him out of the way—and embraced the prince in a great hug.
“It has been too long, my prince,” Riyan said, his voice carrying across the small room.
Prince Sanobar swiftly overcame his shock, embracing Riyan in kind. “It truly has, Riyan. It is good to see you.”
Maiya glanced at Ira, who returned a small smile. That could have meant any number of things, although Maiya did have to wonder if Ira had planned the order of arrival, somehow. Despite being her right-hand operative, even Maiya wasn’t privy to the princess’ every thought. Surely, Ira would never have uttered her words in the company of the kind-hearted Hiranyan Prince. She’d only been able to do so because she’d caught Riyan alone.
And then there was Riyan himself. Having lost his initial encounter with Ira, he’d attempted to seize the initiative by showing just how strong of a bond he shared with the Hiranyan prince. As if to say that he’d get along fine, even without Ira’s help.
Each and every action had a hidden meaning, each word spoken a hidden agenda. And Maiya had to not only navigate, but arbitrate this minefield?
As she greeted the dignitaries and called the clandestine meeting to order, Maiya could think of only one thing.
I am so in over my head.