The ground in the final section had been treated with sothing that made it luminescent in patches — faint, greenish, the color of things that glow in the dark in ways that things are not supposed to glow. The patches were arranged to look like handprints. She counted fourteen of them across the path leading to the central tomb, each one clearly pressed by an actual hand, each one now giving off enough cold light to be visible and wrong.
She walked over every single one.
At the ninth handprint, from sowhere very close — inside the nearest tomb, she estimated, based on the resonance — a sound started. Not the previous ambient sound. This was specific. This was a voice, or sothing close enough to a voice that the distinction beca academic, speaking in a register that sat exactly at the threshold of comprehensibility. You could almost make out words. You could almost understand what it was saying. The almost was doing a great deal of work, and the work it was doing was not comfortable.
From the wall — distant now, she had co a long way from the gate — she heard a sound that she identified after a mont as soone having fallen over. Then a different sound, lower and more urgent, that took her another mont to categorize.
Soone had lost control of their bladder.
She knew this because the person in question made the specific sound of soone realizing what had happened and then making a second sound about the first sound, both of which carried clearly in the cetery’s unnatural quiet.
She kept walking.
The voice from the tomb increased in volu as she passed it, peaked as she moved beyond it, and then cut off with an abrupt completeness that was sohow worse than a gradual fade. The silence that followed it was absolute.
She was at the central tomb.
She bowed five tis.
First bow: the sound of the crowd, distantly, registering that she had arrived.
Second bow: nothing. Complete silence.
Third bow: from sowhere behind her, the sound of a second witness making the sa sound the first one had made, followed by an identical sequence of realizations.
Fourth bow: the thin moonlight shifted as a cloud moved, and for approximately four seconds the entire cetery was darker than it had been, the darkness total and complete, and in that darkness the luminescent handprints on the path behind her glowed clearly and the cold light from the old tomb pulsed once.
Fifth bow.
She straightened.
She reached into the sleeve of her formal court dress and produced a small flask — she had been carrying it since she left the palace, which was why she had not changed clothes, because this particular inner sleeve was the only one with a pocket of the right dinsions. She poured the ceremonial wine onto the base of the central tomb in the correct quantity and the correct manner, which she had morized from the ritual texts two days ago.
Then she stood up straight.
And she turned around.
And she walked back.
---
The return walk took less ti than the forward walk, because the ground was familiar now and the obstacles were spent and the figures had dissolved back into wherever they had co from. The cold light in the old tomb had gone dark. The luminescent handprints were fading. The sound had not returned.
She walked through the gate.
The crowd was there — or what remained of it. Several people had left, she noted. Several more had sat down at so point during the proceedings and had not stood up again. Two of the official witnesses were in states that required the assistance of other people, which those other people were providing with the specific careful attention of individuals who were trying very hard not to look like they were reacting to sothing funny.
Elara walked through all of it.
She was handed, at the gate, the traditional cup of water — the ceremony’s formal conclusion, a drink of water to mark the return to the living world, which she drank without ceremony and handed the cup back.
She looked at the assembled crowd — the servants, the guards, the nobles, the witnesses, the people who had spent an entire evening arranging dolls and cold-fire compounds and luminescent handprints and robed figures and coordinated sounds and blood ssages in old ceteries — and she said nothing.
She went inside.
She went to her room.
She fell asleep within approximately four minutes, because it had been a very long day and she had court at the seventh hour.
---
# The Morning After
She woke before the fifth hour and was at her desk by five-fifteen.
The docunts from the previous day had been joined overnight by new ones — reports, petitions, correspondence from the provincial governors that had been accumulating in the administrative offices and had been redirected to her desk once her staff understood that she actually read things. She worked through them in order, making notes, drafting responses, flagging items that required a decision versus items that simply required acknowledgnt.
At the sixth hour she bathed and dressed.
At the sixth hour and forty minutes she walked to the throne room.
The morning court was, compared to the first one, almost tolerable. The nobles were subdued — she did not think this was connected to the ceremony, exactly, or not only to the ceremony, but to the accumulation of several days of trying things with Elara and finding the attempts unrewarded. They argued. There were still grievances, still competing claims, still the endemic dysfunction of people who had been operating without real oversight for too long. But the shouting was reduced, and two of the nobles who had been loudest on the first day were noticeably quieter, and she suspected at least one of them had a personal reason for not wanting to draw her attention this particular morning.
She worked through the court’s business thodically.
She did not go to see Mahir and Ken.
This was deliberate, and she was aware it would be noticed, and she was comfortable with it being noticed. The beast knights who were associated with Mahir and Ken’s faction were watching her — she could feel it, the quality of attention from that corner of the court that was different from the ordinary watching, more focused, waiting for her to show her hand on the question everyone was quietly thinking about.
She showed them nothing.
After the morning court, she sent for the administrator of the imperial logistics departnt.
---
The administrator arrived in her study within twenty minutes, which told her that the summons had found him quickly, which told her that he had been expecting to be summoned about sothing and had made himself easy to locate. He was a capable man — one of the ones she had kept in the first week’s purge, one of the ones who had answered her practical questions with practical answers rather than elaborate displays of the appearance of knowledge.
"I need to expand the logistics division," she said, without preamble. "Significantly. I’m going to be adding personnel."
He received this without visible surprise, which she appreciated. "How many personnel, Your Majesty?"
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