That evening, during the Ouagadou of the season, the Empress stated: "I will be searching for a secondary consort for the Crown Princess. It will be in the enrichment of our great dynasty and the honor of our bloodline."
The Crown Princess was distraught the last time it was brought up in court, and the clans could see this. Even worse, she was not invited to participate in congress this time.
In so many years, between the Crown Princess and her main consort, they have only had one child, an omega boy, Mammut, who albeit intelligent lacks the only requirement to be an heir--an alpha. The Empress reprimanded both her daughter and her spouse for having her intercede.
Discussing this outside the ears of the Crown Princess meant that such concerns were no longer in her agency.
Kinya sighed internally.
The Crown Princess also didn't make a grand show against it. Her networks would have informed her, yet she did nothing as one of her greatest earned powers as an heir of the Empire was stripped away.
It wasn't a good outlook. If he were to actually choose sides, well, he would've been searching for an alternative already.
Of course, everyone had seen the pressure, not just the clans, for the Crown Princess to have an heir.
It was only proper that the Prime Minister give advice.
Bait to a fish.
"Empress, if I may," Prime Minister Cissé greeted the hall. "Recently, a member of the Mawaddah clan separated, as many omega often do from this particular clan, for marriage into other clans. I suggest him as an option."
"Introduce him."
The guards left the halls and then returned.
A figure strode in with gold coverings and thinly sewn weavings, tinkling like bells. Their footsteps deliberately paced like music. Twisting braids that trailed alongside the beaten gold tokens stitched to the covering.
"Greetings, your majesty," the figure said boldly, outstretched arms and hands wearing bangles vining up their form with the same gold tokens. My name is Ahmed of the Mawaddah clan. I am from the third branch with relatives in the first."
The Empress smiled. "I like your countenance and energy. Our Prime Minister has great taste."
"I live to serve," Prime Minister Cissé bowed.
"Bring him in at the beginning of recess to meet the Crown Princess."
"Understood, your majesty."
And as quickly as that, the decision was made.
Kinya noted that Matriarch El Mahdy entered the hall with Imperial Consort Malik then, who was greatly displeased. He shared a look with the Empress and although the Empress showed no change, he saw her hands grip the throne handles. It was brief but noticeable.
It was his first warning that the day's proceedings would not go as planned.
"Bring out this season's main discussions."
Clan Ngwe's heir, Fadhili, wore the clan's customary bird's wings with braids twisted up in a flare like the feathers of a peacock as if to display his clan's well-known pride.
He pleaded to the court, "My mother is the last of the Sun Ra lineage. The current bloodline of the Sun Ra shares none of the bloodline of my ancestors, and I request that the title fall upon one of my children to pass on."
"How dare you?" The present heirs of the Sun Ra title were none other than the uncle of Imperial Consort Malik, Mshairi Orakpo, whom the consort had long since broken away from for various reasons. "We inherited the title when an omega of their family married into our clan."
"Then by precedent," Fadhili spat. "It would fall on that omega's heir, but it can't now because your family had him killed!"
The other clans began speaking amongst themselves as the loud chattering repeated. Even if the Imperial Consort made a clean break, something as insidious as this couldn't be completely wiped away.
This is an organized attack between the Imperial Consort's faction and Imperial Noble Consort's.
And of what he knew of the Empress, this would instead sour her taste for Imperial Noble Consort's people and the Crown Princess.
"How did such an heir die?" The Empress pointed out. "Surely, their value was more in them living than them dead."
"Tiger nuts are good plants to grow for omegas with weak stomachs," Mshairi dropped his head. He said, "Our crops had been contaminated with hemlock, both carrying yellow flowers and spindly stems. They are difficult to tell apart. He ate them like they were sweets and died in his sleep with a smile!"
Kinya heard the gasps of the clans as chattering began again.
"He was carrying our child," Mshairi pleaded. "The tiger nuts were supposed to heal him, but it turned into the weapon used to kill him and our child! Someone did this on purpose. It was murder!"
"You can't possibly mean to accuse me," Fadhili retorted. "We have argued over these lineage intermingling since before my birth. We would've long since moved before today."
"Perhaps in today's time, you feel more emboldened," Mshairi said with barely a gesture towards the Crown Princess but everyone knew the Ngwe's have a planned alliance to marry into the Crown Princess' family. "Unlike your parents and ancestors did."
Fadhili turned to the Empress, "Your majesty! This is baseless and accusatory. When did the Orakpo family send waves of people to find the cause and source of his husband's death? Never! And now, he mourns and worries as if the death hasn't been three years past! He's manipulating sentiment."
"And do you find me so easily manipulated, Fadhili Ngwe?" The Empress countered.
Nothing in her eyes shifted at the words but half the hall fell to their knees in fear. Even Fadhili slowly dropped to his knees as he begged, "I did not mean it that way."
"Guards, let Fadhili have his recess early and clear his mind before he makes another misstep among his fellow peers."
Fadhili was escorted out as Mshairi Orakpo settled back into his place with the other clans. And Kinya could see the Matriarch El Mahdy shift uncomfortably. He made her aware that their alliances among the Molokhiyya heirs should be flexible like sand, but Matriarch El Mahdy was of the old mindset that the eldest was always the heir.
But he knew if the Crown Princess didn't step up, there was no question who would be the next heir.
The Empress demanded, "Who is next?" and the clans were silent.
A farmer approached the center of the hall with a limp and began to speak, "My name is Nabel al-Busiri. I own the farmland closest to the desert beyond the hills. At one point, my family owned the lands closer to the port. We grew rugged fruit and flavorful roots, but over time, the shared military encampment has taken more and more of our land until the ground we have left from their expansion is difficult to toil. My family members have all gone destitute. And some of our housing has had to depend on underground residences for survival. With the shifting sands, it puts our lives even more in danger from the collapse of our walls, but we have nothing else. We can offer nothing else. We can only ask what is being done about these soldiers and their growing numbers."
Kinya felt a headache coming on.
When he requested Castillo find someone safe to approach the military camp discussion, he didn't plan on him writing out what should be said.
Minister of Agriculture, Taharqa Hakimi, cleared his throat before speaking, "This is true. In our recent situations over the years, the city is losing resources not because of a lack of access or ability but because the resources we have are being redirected to foreign empires with equally large populations."
"What is to be done about them?" a member of an off-branch said.
"They stomped through the town as if they owned it just the other day."
"I feared having my children trampled or our things stolen!"
The people's worries over the last century had not alleviated. As long as the military camp resided within the space of the noble families, the royal families, and those inching forward, they couldn't prosper.
"I have been working on a solution," the Empress said, as was practiced.
Kinya was relieved to know that at least one thing was going as planned.
The Empress continued, "We have been informed that the Carolingian Empire is declining and their alliance with the Zhuong weakening. If we wish to strike, we will do so with the people's support. Do we have the people's support?"
"Yes!"
"Thank the heavens!"
"Finally!"
The voices chattered on and the heavy tension buzzed away until guards burst into the hall. Their heavy footsteps shocked the clans and then their heavy bow to the ground hushed them.
"What brings you into the halls?" The Empress rose up and her crown-like braided locks swished at her flourished motion. "Speak!"
The guards looked at one another before one said, "On behalf of himself and not the Empire of Carolingian, the Prince wishes to have an audience with the Empress on the note of removing their soldiers from our lands."
What was quiet and worry transformed into disbelief and anger.
"How dare he?!"
"The Prince? Here??"
"He must be a fake!"
"We have no need for a truce!"
The angry voices pitched up, and Kinya could see the Empress' mouth twitch. She was pleased with the escalation of events.
Kinya, on the other hand, did not. Such escalations would eventually resolve the issue of the occupied lands. But they would also lead to another war—a war for which both kingdoms had already exhausted their people. It was one of the many reasons that he preferred Lawali when it came to the choice of heir. She is a pacifist through and through.
Empress Shlaweya settled back in her throne and then said, "Let him in."
The clans' expression of surprise gave way to stoicism.
They wouldn't let the Prince take them lightly.
And their losses over the century were heavy.
Someone would have to pay.
The Prince had weaseled his way into the bookstore owner's good graces with rare books from across the seas. Books were translated by hand from the Empire of Carolingian into the standard of Sonrhai's people. And all he requested was for a decent carriage to take him wherever he wanted to go for one day.
Somehow, in the twisting and twining of intricate conversations and sidestepping of traps, Enzo had landed in one. The Prince whistled inside the carriage as he clutched his stack of books close.
"Where did your guards go?"
The Prince merely continued whistling.
And then he heard shouts and the loud hooves of running camels. He snapped open the gauze shielding from eyes outside the carriage and found several legionnaires and even civilians running towards the port. There was a small wriggle of smoke in the air. Enzo snapped to the Prince. "A fire?"
"No worries," the Prince waved his reaction off. "It was only a bottle of the fire. It's difficult to extinguish, but its weakness is abundant in a desert oasis like this. Although--it may take some time for someone to realize it isn't water."
"Reviere, again."
"Yes, although it appears to be in my interest, contradicting some of yours, it doesn't quite make sense, does it?"
"I know the Mawaddah Clan has a main leader here," Enzo retorted. "You only just arrived and believe you have it all figured out."
"Oh, no," the Prince laughed. "I absolutely know that I haven't got an idea how deep or serious this might go."
Enzo hunched over and sighed.
The carriage weaving and bumping as it rode the incline. Then, Enzo whipped open the gauze again as if struck by lightning. He could see the palace far in the horizon.
"You can't possibly be serious."
The Prince smiled. "I'm in a bit of a situation. Berman was going to have me killed sometime this week as a totem to my father. My mother may already be assassinated and possibly her maiden family too if my father is as thorough as he believes to be. That means I lack both leverage and power."
"And?"
"And--although Castillo is not my ally, the oddest one out of all of this, is you," the Prince said pointedly and his eyes lowered but it was as if the Prince were staring him down still. His eyes were deep and yet nothing. "You were going to use Castillo to put me somewhere safe and out of the way while you scheme yourself a spot as my ally. And I can't imagine why. Until this evening, when you came by the caverns with concern. You weren't faking."
Enzo laughed then.
"Do you think I care so deeply about your wellbeing?"
And the Prince replied, "Of course, or how else will you realize your life's ambition?"
He felt as though his throat had dried up. His eyes tightened. He said, "I have no life's ambition but to support and follow my clan."
"You can lie to your brothers, the soldiers, and even to the Empire, but I know this look in your eyes," the Prince said and then sighed. "Because I see it often in the mirror, a great life's ambition that can never be realized."
"You and I are not the same."
The carriage came to a stop then.
"Of course not," the Prince repeated. "I wish to study the world's great mysteries. But you? You wish to own it. So, we should hurry then."
The Prince pushed open the door and yanked the stack of books over his shoulder declining servants at the carriage's side from helping him.
"I don't understand."
But Enzo slid out of the carriage and felt the rush of voices, fresh water in the air, and the shining majestic nature of the palace. It held such great power within its stone.
"You planned this all to force me into taking you as my adviser, so," the Prince said as he followed into the entrance way with guards blocking them. He tilted his head to Enzo. "Be my adviser."
Enzo clutched his hands to his side and scrutinized the Prince.
And then loosened his grip before reaching the guards, where he said, "Excuse you, but this is the Prince of the Carolingian Empire here for his audience with the Empress."
The guards laughed.
"Prove it," they said.
Enzo said, then, "Call out the courting maidservant of Prince Sylas."