Page 85 of The Concubine King
When Ethyr approached the washed steps leading up to the building, those around him bowed and stepped out of his way.He withheld his reflex to pause awkwardly, continuing decisively forward with Poyut striding close behind.It was easy enough to know where to go once inside; following the trickle of people and noise led him to a room lit by wide windows and filled with a circle of individual podiums.It presented Ethyr with his first problem.Only a few people were standing at them, most others mingling around the edges and talking.He didn’t know whether there was a specific podium he should be at, but he also wasn’t confident enough to join a conversation.From the snippets he could pick up, they were about policies or economics or ‘social issues’, topics even further from his knowledge than anything priests talked about.
He stood off to the side, prepared to wait, when he saw Lyrian heading towards him.The man was back in his Master of the Guard uniform, bronze hawk pinned at the neck of his crimson tunic.It suited him.Whatever anyone else said, Lyrian was made for the role of Master Guard.He gave Ethyr a deep bow.
“Your Divinity,” he greeted as he straightened.“I am pleased you have come.Do you know your decision yet?”
Ethyr glanced at Poyut.She watched Lyrian with the cool neutrality of a cat watching a hawk, aware of the danger but confident enough in its own abilities not to be scared.Lyrian, like all the councilors, did a magnificent job of pretending Poyut didn’t exist.
“I would like to hear what the whole council has to say before I reach any hard conclusion,” Ethyr told him.
He raised his eyebrows and dipped his chin.“A rational course of action, Your Divinity.”
Ethyr studied him a moment.He didn’t look concerned or upset that he hadn’t been definitively named as his choice.
“Is there a certain place I must stand during the meeting?”he asked.
Lyrian glanced at the circle.“Not particularly.You can stand at any podium.Since you are present, it is your initiative to begin the meeting, which you can do by standing at whichever one you choose.”
Ethyr hummed, though underneath the buzz of constant conversation, he doubted it was audible.From the start, Lyrian had always answered his questions with patience far from patronizing and detail that was almost anticipatory, as though he knew what follow up questions Ethyr might have.If ambition really was his only crime, he would be a fantastic advisor.
“Whose initiative would it be if I wasn’t here?”
“The council head.”Lyrian nodded to a group of four people talking.“Justice Malor.She’s also the overseer of the legal court.”The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint anyone in particular.At that point he was sure most every council name would be familiar to him but their faces unrecognizable.
Ethyr didn’t have any faith that his actions would be noticed, let alone followed, but he stepped up to a podium regardless and was pleasantly surprised to find the councilors quickly filed to the others.There were eighteen in total, not including his, though one of the podiums was empty.All eyes were on him.It was like he was back in the palace, seeing in their gazes anger, pity, worry, or something akin to being impressed.
“If I may, Your Divinity,” a woman spoke up.Her dark hair was coiffed up in a flawless, elaborate bun—or seemed to be, from what Ethyr could tell from some distance away.The way the room was structured, her voice carried easily across the circle of emptiness between them and Ethyr could hear her as clearly as if she were standing right in front of him.“With your permission, I’d like to conduct this meeting.”
It must have been Malor.Ethyr opened his mouth to agree, but found no words could get past the stage fright stopping up his throat.He nodded instead.
“As we’re all aware,” Malor got right to it, “this council has been called in the wake of High Priest Yorith’s death.The matters to be discussed are as follows.”She unraveled a scroll on her podium and read firmly.“The matter of electing a new High Priest.The matter of electing a new advisor to the king.The matter of stewardship for the palace guards.The matter of city administration oversight.The matter of treasury replenishment and allocation.”
It was all so cold and methodical.But of course, everyone but him knew exactly what to expect.He felt entirely out of place.
“Your Divinity.”
He snapped his attention from wandering around the room back to Malor.
“Head Priest Klara has indicated that you have named her as High Priest.Is that correct?”
She chose herself, really, Ethyr thought, but there was no point saying it.It wasn’t like he knew anyone else for the role.He cleared his throat and managed to get a word out this time.“Yes.”
“Very well.Head Priest Klara will be instated as High Priest and present at our next council.Now then, on to the matter of advisor.Each councilor is allotted one endorsement and up to five minutes to argue the merits of their choice.We shall begin with Councilor Jamus.”
Most people simply stated a name without giving any argument.A good chunk named Malor as their choice, a few argued for themselves as advisor, and Ethyr was surprised at the number who named Lyrian.Klara had made him sound like a pariah, but he had almost as many backers as Malor.Lyrian smiled and nominated himself.
It went around the circle until Malor was left.She looked down at her podium, adjusted the paper on it, then glanced up and around until her gaze landed on Lyrian.
“I nominate Guard Master Lyrian.”
The silence was solid disbelief.Ethyr didn’t need to know the councilors or how these events usually went to sense that Malor had disrupted social order and expectation.
Then she looked at him and the dazed stares of the others followed.
“Who is your choice of advisor, Your Divinity?”
He could not bring himself to meet anyone’s eyes but Lyrian’s.The man watched him with calm ambivalence.
“I name Lyrian as my advisor,” he said, with the loudest confidence he could muster.The murmur that flitted around the room did not sound particularly shocked, but disappointed.
