She unrolled the scroll, showing an elaborate docunt with seals and signatures. "The other consorts, inspired by his devotion, requested to join him. How could I refuse such piety? Our empire was built on these traditions."
*Perfect forgery,* System 427 noted. *Aged parchnt, correct seals, even Raphael’s signature style. When did you have ti to—*
*Last night. While you were analyzing Seraphina’s movent patterns.*
"A purification ritual?" Seraphina’s voice held just the right note of surprise. "How... admirable. But Your Majesty, forgive —typically such rituals are perford at temples, not in isolation. The people find comfort in witnessing their leaders’ devotion."
Clever counter. Making it sound like Heena was hiding them rather than facilitating their spiritual journey.
"Typically, yes," Heena agreed easily. "However, given the physical demands of the upcoming tournant, they requested complete seclusion to maintain focus. The rite is quite rigorous—no food, limited water, constant prayer and ditation. Prince Kieran in particular felt that public observation would compromise the ritual’s sanctity."
Heena was halfway to her private chambers when Duke Robbiston’s voice stopped her.
"Your Majesty. A mont of your ti?"
She turned, keeping her expression composed despite the jolt of concern. The old general stood with three of his senior officers, all wearing expressions of professional concern.
"Duke Robbiston. Of course." She gestured to a nearby parlor. "Shall we speak privately?"
Once inside with the door closed, Robbiston didn’t waste ti. "Your Majesty, this purification ritual. I must confess, it’s the first I’ve heard of the consorts requesting such a thing."
Heena settled into a chair with deliberate calm. "High Priest Raphael initiated the request two weeks ago. He felt the empire had strayed from traditional values and wished to set an example."
"Two weeks ago?" One of the officers frowned. "Respectfully, Your Majesty, I spoke with Prince Kieran’s adjutant yesterday. He said the Prince left explicit instructions about border patrol schedules that run through next month. That doesn’t sound like soone planning a week of isolation."
Damn. A legitimate hole in her story.
"Plans change," Heena said smoothly. "Raphael’s conviction was... persuasive. The others joined his ritual sowhat spontaneously after witnessing his dedication."
"Spontaneously," Robbiston repeated. His weathered face was unreadable. "Your Majesty, I’ve served your family for forty years. I fought beside your father. I’ve earned the right to speak plainly."
"You have," Heena agreed, though warning bells rang in her mind.
"Sothing feels wrong." Robbiston leaned forward. "Five powerful n don’t simply vanish into spiritual isolation without proper communication to their subordinates. Military command requires continuity. Prince Kieran wouldn’t abandon his duties without arranging coverage. General Lucian has border threats that need imdiate attention. Duke Adrian has financial decisions that can’t wait a week."
"They arranged contingencies—"
"Did they?" The general’s eyes were sharp. "Because I’ve been asking questions, Your Majesty. Quietly, respectfully. And no one—not adjutants, not stewards, not financial advisors—has heard from any of the consorts directly. All communication has co through your office."
Heena’s pulse quickened but her expression remained serene. "Because they’re in isolation. That’s what isolation ans—no external contact."
"Even for matters of imperial security?" Another officer interjected. "With respect, Your Majesty, there are protocols. If a high-ranking military commander becos unavailable, there must be formal transfer of authority. We have none."
"The authority remains theirs," Heena said. "They’re in isolation, not abdicated their duties."
"Then let us verify that," Robbiston said bluntly. "Grant us access to confirm the consorts entered this ritual voluntarily and are safe. A simple conversation, witnessed by temple priests to ensure we don’t disturb the sacred nature of their undertaking."
There it was. The trap closing.
"Duke Robbiston, you’re asking to violate religious law," Heena said carefully. "The Rite of Purification explicitly forbids external contact for its duration. Even a witnessed conversation would contaminate the ritual."
"Religious law also requires witnesses to confirm voluntary participation," the general countered. "How do we know they chose this freely?"
The implication was clear: *how do we know you didn’t force them?*
Before Heena could respond, a commotion outside drew everyone’s attention. Raised voices, then—
The door burst open. Seraphina stood there, flanked by two temple priests, her face streaked with tears. Real tears this ti, accompanied by genuine distress.
"Your Majesty!" She practically stumbled into the room. "I just received word—there was an incident at the western border. Raiders crossed during the night. General Lucian’s second-in-command sent an ergency dispatch requesting imdiate orders."
She held out a sealed letter, her hands shaking. "But he can’t be contacted. Not even for this. Not even when lives are at stake!" Her voice rose, cracking with emotion. "How can spiritual purification be more important than soldiers’ lives?"
The room went cold.
Robbiston turned to Heena slowly. "Is this true, Your Majesty? Is there a border situation requiring the General’s imdiate attention?"
Heena’s mind raced. This was either a lucky coincidence for Seraphina, or... no. Too convenient. Her system had probably manufactured this crisis, or at minimum detected a real border skirmish and exploited it.
She looked directly at Seraphina. "Surely you understand the importance of privacy in matters of faith?"
A subtle trap. If Seraphina pushed further, she’d be questioning religious devotion—dangerous territory for a saint.
But Seraphina was skilled. "Of course, Your Majesty. The sanctity of spiritual practice must be protected." She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "I’m simply relieved they’re safe. When Duke Adrian didn’t respond to my letters, I feared the worst."
"Your letters?" Heena’s eyebrow raised fractionally. "Lady Seraphina, you’re aware that correspondence with n in spiritual isolation is forbidden during purification rites? Such contact would contaminate the ritual and force them to begin again."
Gasps rippled through the court. Seraphina had just admitted to attempting to violate sacred religious protocols.
Seraphina’s perfect composure flickered for just a mont. "I... I didn’t know they were in ritual, Your Majesty. Had I known, I would never have—"
"Of course not." Heena’s smile was warm, forgiving. "How could you know? I haven’t made a public announcent yet—I didn’t wish to distract from their sacred work with political spectacle." She turned to address the broader court. "But since Lady Seraphina’s concern has brought it to light, let formally announce: the royal consorts are engaged in the Rite of Purification and will erge on the eve of the Grand Tournant, spiritually cleansed and physically prepared."
Murmurs of approval. Several temple priests nodded—this was indeed a traditional practice, though rarely observed in modern tis.
Duke Robbiston’s expression had shifted slightly. Was that... approval? Or continued suspicion?
"The Grand Tournant," Seraphina said softly, seizing on that detail. "Forgive , Your Majesty, but the rite requires complete fasting. Won’t that leave them weakened for competition?"
Another trap—implying Heena was sabotaging her own consorts’ performance.
"The rite includes spiritual strengthening that compensates for physical fasting," Heena replied smoothly. "Ancient warriors often perford it before major battles. They erged weaker in body but stronger in will—which any warrior knows is the true source of victory."
She paused, then added with perfect casual concern, "Though I appreciate your worry about their tournant performance, Lady Seraphina. Perhaps you have a particular interest in how they compete?"
The implication was subtle but clear: why was Seraphina so invested in n who weren’t her husbands?
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