All the people who had been summoned were present. Those who were unable to attend for whatever reason had sent representatives. This only concerned the House of Duenitz, however. The assembled gentlemen were seated around a very long table in an equally long room. The walls were decorated with a series of paintings depicting famous historical battles and important figures from the Holy Empire. On the ceiling, one could admire the colourful artistic representations of the hundred saints who gave the room its name. Moreover, at the end of the long conference table stood a seat larger than all the others. Her Majesty's throne was elaborately embellished with star patterns, the flags and coats of arms of the imperial lands and, topping it all off, the imperial crown. Now everything was waiting for Her Majesty, the Empress. She would be the last to enter the chamber, as was custom.
The guard announced her arrival, and there she was. The large door opened and in stepped an entity that almost resembled a figure of light. Her radiant white dress was stunningly impressive. The whole room rose to its feet. In flagrant breach of the convention of wearing only black clothing after the death of a spouse, she appeared here wearing only a few black accessories as a small homage to it. The underlying rationale for this was probably not so much that Her Highness spurned tradition - after the death of her daughter, Victoria, she had worn black for a year - but rather that she wanted to convey the impression of unbroken authority. Amalie Althun slowly strolled past those present, her astonishingly long, grey hair being blown back a little despite her gentle movements. Immediately afterwards, she arrived at her chair and opened the session. Everyone took a seat again.
“Honourable gentlemen! We have gathered here today to decide over the future course of the Empire by finally, albeit quite late”, at that she cast a glance over at Peter, who was sitting across from her all the way at the opposite end of the table, before continuing, “starting the process of selecting the one who shall succeed my dearest husband, and who is to carry on his legacy.” The people present seemed rather relaxed, in spite of the seriousness of the matter at hand. Even the usually tense Supreme Marshal Balduin was making a rather lackadaisical impression. Only one person seemed highly alert, and he was sitting directly next to her Highness, to her right to be precise. He was a somewhat tall fellow with big eyes, prominent cheekbones and short brown hair. He was known as Ludovic. His attire was very noble, and on his chest, there was a very specific crest to be seen. It wasn’t the golden sun on a red background, which was the emblem of the Holy Empire, and it also wasn’t the sickles harvesting grain with the triquetra above, which was the well-known symbol of the Imperial Guard.
“All further details will now be explained to you by His Excellency, the Imperial Chancellor.” This was how she ended her extremely brief opening address to the meeting. All eyes now fell on Peter Rubellio. In response, he positioned himself a little more upright before he began to speak. Spread out on the table in front of him were countless documents and all kinds of paperwork, presumably of the highest relevance. The now highly experienced head of government began his remarks, “Due to the fact that His Holiness Melgar did not leave a will, the succession to power in the Holy Empire has not been unambiguously and indisputably determined. Now, there would certainly be people who could be singled out for legal, precedential or other reasons, where one could justifiably establish their claim to the throne. However, there are many factors that speak both for and against certain candidates. Ultimately, in my view, the emperor's heir must fulfil one criterion: He must be indisputably LEGITIMATE in the eyes of everyone in the Empire. No one must be able to question the legitimacy of his authority.”
A gesture was made to the chairman of the Holy Embassy, whereupon he stood up and took the floor, “His Holiness Melgar, blessed be his name, has prophesied his return. Therefore, we, those whose role it is to seek out the next incarnation of the Chosen One, will now devote ourselves fully to this task. His Excellency here has already promised us his support in this.” Those present were unusually unsurprised that Peter Rubellio had apparently made arrangements with all sorts of people in advance. As untoward as this approach was, it was still something to be expected from the Chancellor. Balduin was casually picking his nose during the Supreme Ambassador's remarks, while Ludovic, on the other hand, was pensively eyeing the speaker. His explanations obviously seemed to give him pause for thought. Most of the others here were just listening relatively emotionlessly to the information they were receiving.
After the explanations had been concluded, it was finally time for Peter to move on to his core statement. He placed his wrinkled hands, which he had previously clasped together to form a kind of platform for him to rest his chin on, back on the table in front of him and began speaking: “As my old friend, the Chosen One, has decreed, so it shall be done! As much as the lack of a designated successor is an unfortunate circumstance, it is also true that we can simply deal with it pragmatically. Oh, yes, we can! My suggestion is the obvious one: Her Highness, Amalie Althun, will be the ruler of the realm until further notice. Her rule, as well as any other that is not of 'holy nature', will be considered a stewardship, according to Teleiotic dogma. Until Melgar's return, the Holy Empire will, therefore, be a stewardship for the Chosen One.”
His statement was confirmed by Patriarch Damianos, who was sitting not too far away from His Excellency. Everyone seemed to have expected such an approach, and everyone would agree with this idea. All of a sudden, the brown-haired young man, sitting next to the regent, who in the future would be the imperial stadtholder, stood up from his chair. He proudly displayed the coat of arms of the imperial house on his chest. “Your Serene Highness Lord Rubellio! It appears to me that the preliminary determination of an heir for Her Majesty here is at least as important as the approval of what was already clear from the outset. Who will succeed Her Majesty? I think it should be up to the now so-called stadtholder to decide whose head will be adorned by the crown after her.”
Ludovic appeared relatively irritated in his demeanour. The Imperial Chancellor only exacerbated this attitude with the following words of his: “I am well aware that your unique situation here at court has given you hope of being the next heir to the throne. But the fact is that His Holiness has not appointed one. That includes you!” When rancour began to show upon the addressee's face, Amalie intervened by saying, “Calm down, Ludo! You have the best chance of being appointed as the next stadtholder. But we have to discuss the matter with everyone else first. Still, I have to agree with the chancellor here. You yourself know very well that there are good reasons for why you weren't selected.” Visibly annoyed, the man who felt rejected sat down again, crossing his arms in defiance.
Finally, Peter took the lead in the discussion again. The things he was about to reveal now would blow everyone's mind. “Nevertheless, there is one more thing that I have withheld from all of you here until now, my esteemed ladies and gentlemen. Emperor Melgar has left us at least ONE sort of bequest! And I have it here with me.” Amalie also perked up in surprise. Peter pulled a letter out of his documents and placed it on the tabletop in front of everyone. “I'll have the document passed around, so that everyone can assure themselves that it was written by His Holiness himself. It is relatively long and verbose, which is why I will not read it out here. The most important content for this meeting is the following. Please listen carefully!
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The amulet which houses the Chosen One’s magic powers is to be hidden in a place where no one can use it for the purpose of gaining dominance over others or even over the country itself. For this very reason, I have had several copies of the artifact made and have sent them all out into the four winds to prevent anyone from finding it! The soul amulet is to remain hidden until a suitable new emperor for the realm, a new, old Chosen One, has been found. Until that day, only I know where said item is! And don't even try to find the couriers of mine who delivered the amulets. I have already seen to their disposal!”
The last sound he uttered still kept echoing in the spacious hall. Then silence. Only an oppressive silence suddenly descended. Everyone present was utterly flabbergasted. Well, all except one. Her Highness, supporting herself on the armrests of her seat, rose from it and looked out of her old eyes at the likewise old man at the other end of the table. Her glare made one's blood run cold!
“How dare you withhold something so important from me! And now you're presenting it to the entire assembled council here instead?” Full of shame, the Chancellor turned his gaze away from her, which was completely uncharacteristic behaviour for his Excellency. This only infuriated the stadtholder even more, and it showed very strongly in her facial expressions. “Pass the letter over to me! I want to read it myself!”, she then commanded and this was complied with. When the letter from her late husband reached her, she literally tore it out of the hand of the person who handed it to her. She was so tense that she even crumpled the parchment a little in her hands as she read through it. In an instant, she realized that it had been written by her spouse. It was one-to-one his handwriting, had his writing style and even the exact ink he always used.
She actually only skimmed the text, because her nervousness had increased enormously, and she wanted to get back to the council as quickly as possible. Its members sat there patiently waiting for Her Majesty, although they slowly began to mumble more and more among themselves. Chancellor Rubellio's revelations were, of course, red-hot. When she had finished her hasty reading, she turned her attention back to the plenum of the most powerful men in the Empire, who immediately fell reverently silent again. Her facial expression made an even more furious impression than before. First of all, she addressed the person who was the source of her anger, “Peter Rubellio, you have disappointed me beyond measure! Such actions could justifiably be described as treason!”
The accused did not reply, but simply stared at her with a stone face. “Do you have nothing to answer to that? What's wrong with you?”, she indignantly hurled at him. As a result, he did actually give her a response, “I did what my old friend asked me to do. This plan was not my idea, but Melgar's. He once personally requested that I keep this a secret from you.” When he communicated all this in a deliberately unemotional tone, Amalie's rage only seemed to build up further. Finally, it burst out of her in the form of loud screams: “If that's the case, then you can pack your bags straight away! We don't need a chancellor like you! Get out of here!” The man immediately complied with her wishes. He replied, “As you wish, mistress!” Then he bowed politely. Apparently, His Excellency had already expected such a reaction from Her Highness, or at least considered it an option.
Not much more came of the meeting. The most important result of the council was that everyone agreed to the official assumption of power by the regent - from now on stadtholder. As has already been said, this was entirely in keeping with expectations. Equally expected was the rumour mill that would now begin churning as a result of this council. All of this was now going through the ruler's mind as she strode with an elderly pace through the corridors and towards the emperor's private library after the meeting. “We are still without a designated successor in the order of succession, without a mage at the head of the state. And now several influential people know about the existence of the Holy Artifact, an object that can be used to do magic, to become 'holy' so to speak. It would be na?ve to assume that word of what we've discussed today won't spread very soon.” Amalie let out a stressful sigh.
Then she arrived at the rooms where her beloved had spent so many years researching and studying magic. She was the only one who still had a key to these doors. It turned in the lock and, “Click!”, the door was open. Without wasting any time, she headed straight for the hidden compartment behind one of the bookshelves. “Please, let what Peter claimed have been a lie, a feint to lure out and deceive possible traitors to the empire,” she said to herself at an audible volume. Then she opened the secret compartment behind the books in the third row from the bottom. ...... There was nothing there. The amulet was gone! Dismayed, she looked into the empty space behind the bookshelf for a while. Then she was overcome by despair. “How could he? What am I supposed to do now?”
Unexpectedly, Rizzo came into the room from behind. When he saw Her Majesty, limp and half on the floor, half leaning against the shelf, he immediately rushed over to her and helped her up. “Calm down, Your Highness! We'll find a solution. Just sit down for now.” She followed his advice. There was a lot for her to think about now, including the role Silke might have played in this conspiracy. On the massive, ebon desk next to her, a couple of books were neatly arranged, along with a quill and a matching inkwell, which is meant to say that they were meticulously positioned parallel to the edge of the desk. There was no dust here yet, as the person whose workspace this had been for many years had only left the palace for good a few days ago.
As Amalie was staring at the table she had just described, she was intensely contemplating. She knew that Peter had only acted at the behest of Wenzel, which was why she didn't want to sentence him for treason. Nevertheless, all these findings left a bad taste in her mouth. A lot was amiss with this. Then she told her loyal servant, “Let's search for the messengers the chancellor hired to hide the amulets.” - “Mistress, the chancellor said...” - “Don't you be so gullible, Rizzo! There's a good chance he only said that to protect his couriers. Find them! Even if our efforts are not crowned with success, at least we'll have tried. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” He promptly replied: “Yes, milady!”
But both him and her knew that the efforts they would be making would do nothing to change the raw facts. The now dismissed Imperial Chancellor had lit a fuse that would soon blow up a huge powder keg. Even if only very few additional people found out about the new soul amulet, which would be the best-case scenario for them, it would nonetheless prompt power-hungry individuals to go after it. What in God's name had Peter been thinking when he did this? Why? Why hadn't he kept the matter under wraps? To the Imperial Stadtholder, this was a stab in the back! Now the race for the last Holy Artifact, the object that contained the soul of the One Chosen by God, was on. Whoever would obtain it first could determine the fate of all of Kaphkos!
