Chapter 472 - Imperial stories

The emperor’s brows rose slightly at Scarlett’s question.

“The Hall of Echoes? I presume you are referring to the location on the Rising Isle?”

“I am.”

Scarlett was actually somewhat surprised that he knew of it. She would have thought that was the sort of thing the Isle would make a point of keeping from the empire, but perhaps the empire knew more about the Isle’s secrets than she thought.

“As Your Majesty may be aware,” she said, “I possess a certain degree of expertise in matters related to Zuverian ruins and research. It was for that reason that I visited the Rising Isle as an official imperial envoy.”

The emperor nodded. “I am aware.”

“It was not included in any of the official reports, but during my stay, I aided the Isle’s wizards in resolving an issue that had originated within the Hall of Echoes.”

“And what type of issue was this?”

Scarlett regarded him for a few seconds. “One related to the Hallowed Cabal.”

Something in the man’s gaze sharpened, though only faintly. He reached up and rubbed a hand along his beard.

“I am not surprised that you know who the Hallowed Cabal are,” he said. “But is there a reason these details were omitted from the reports? To my knowledge, the Isle’s wizards have made no attempt to share this information with us, but I would expect more from our own envoy.”

There it was.

That was the slightly dangerous part of this approach.

Scarlett lowered her head. “The nature of what transpired was sensitive enough that the Isle demanded an oath of secrecy before I was permitted to assist. At the time, I was not in a position to challenge them, and I judged that failing to intervene carried a greater risk to the empire than accepting their terms. Fortunately, the worst of the matter was prevented. Since the Rising Isle displayed no clear intent to threaten the empire, however, I did not believe I could in good conscience violate the oath I had given.”

She paused.

It dawned on her that this was probably the only man in the empire she could lower her head to like this without some part of her wanting to bite back.

“I can only offer my deepest apologies for failing to reveal this information before now,” she said.

When she raised her head again, the emperor was watching her with a scrutinising but contemplative expression.

“You don’t appear to have any qualms about violating that oath now.”

“That is because I received permission before coming here today, Your Majesty.” Scarlett kept her posture straight. “Since then, I have cultivated close ties with Senior Wizard Yamina Ward, daughter of the late Arch Wizard Ward. Though she is not an official member of their council, her expertise means she holds no small amount of influence on the Isle, and through her, I ensured that I could reveal what I am telling you now.”

“I see.” The emperor motioned with one hand. “And how does this tie into your fascination with Arlene Hartford?”

Scarlett met his eyes.

Everything up to now had been a blend of truth and truth-adjacent fiction. Usually, this wasn’t something she would reveal to a relative stranger, but she needed to learn more about this man. About what he knew, what he suspected, and, more importantly, what his connection to Eidolon was.

“Are you familiar with why the Hall of Echoes is called that, Your Majesty?”

“I have heard that it holds knowledge left behind by previous generations of Isle wizards.”

“That is true,” Scarlett said. “But it is not the full truth.”

“Hoh? Then do you know more?”

“I do. When I was in the Hall of Echoes, I did not merely find knowledge left behind by long-dead wizards. I encountered their remnants.”

“Their remnants?”

“Yes. I believe some call them ‘Memories’.”

Scarlett studied the emperor’s expression closely, but saw no hint of recognition there. If he already knew what Memories were, he hid it well.

“This is where I met the Memory of Arlene Hartford,” she continued.

At that, one of the man’s brows rose slightly again.

“It was no different from meeting her in person, and through this, I was granted insight into the circumstances of her life during that period. I was also temporarily taken under her wing as her student. I presume Your Majesty has heard of my seemingly meteoric rise in strength. Much of that can be credited to her efforts.”

She held his gaze.

“That is why, despite the crimes attached to her name, I will always remain indebted to her. If not for Arlene Hartford, the Dragon of Devastation would still be alive today.”

The emperor was quiet for a moment.

“That is a fascinating claim, Baroness,” he eventually said. “I would be interested in hearing more.”

“The full details of those events are too long to recount here and now, Your Majesty. If I am not mistaken, we do not have much time.”

He shook his head. “Consider your audience extended. Who knows when I will have another opportunity to hear tales from the early years of the empire? Please, continue.”

Audience extended?

The establishment of the Empyreal Barrier was supposed to begin shortly after this. That didn’t feel like the sort of thing one casually delayed because of an interesting story. And there was nothing stopping him from ordering her to recount everything later, once the day’s proceedings were finished.

So why insist on hearing it now?

His interest seemed genuine, though.

And in the end, he was the emperor. If he chose to extend the audience, then the audience was extended.

Besides, this was still useful to her.

Her goal had been to sound him out through the story of her time with Arlene. If he was giving her more room to do that, she would use it.

So Scarlett told him.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

She told him of Freymeadow. Of the ruined echoes of the past she had witnessed there, and of the woman who had always waited for her at the end of the day. She spoke of Arlene as a teacher, as a mage, and as someone far removed from the simple monster the empire’s records had reduced her to.

She was careful, of course. Some things she altered. Others, she fudged.

In this version, every meeting with Arlene had taken place within the Hall of Echoes, and Scarlett’s encounter with the woman had been nothing more than a twist of fate she’d had no control over. The countless repetitions of Freymeadow’s fall became a quirk of the Memory’s strange working, rather than something either Scarlett or Arlene had deliberately shaped.

Beyond that, though, Scarlett was honestly surprised by how open she found herself being.

She even shared how Arlene’s life had ended. How she had gone from a loyal soldier of the empire to someone who acted to prevent many of its more ruthless decisions, and how her regrets had stopped her from ever truly finding peace.

It was…seriously brazen, frankly.

Sitting in front of the emperor of that same empire and recounting a version of history that painted it—at least in those earlier days—in a rather ugly light wasn’t exactly the safest thing Scarlett had ever done.

But there was something about the man that made her do it anyway.

It wasn’t supernatural. There was no pressure on her thoughts, no strange compulsion guiding her tongue. She was fairly sure it didn’t even have anything to do with the part of her that revered the crown.

The emperor simply had an air to him that, here in this private and oddly subdued setting, made it feel acceptable.

He didn’t look angered at any point. He asked questions when something caught his interest. He listened when she explained the parts of Arlene’s story that would never have been recorded. He even laughed once or twice at the harsher lessons Arlene had forced on Scarlett, and at the woman’s tendency to punish and tease with the exact same expression.

But perhaps the most surprising moment came near the end of Scarlett’s recounting.

She gave him a revised version of how she and the Isle wizards had witnessed the near-demise of an ancient Zuverian city, how the Dragon of Devastation had appeared to fight the threat at the time, and how Arlene’s intervention had saved them before Scarlett had her final encounter with the woman in Freymeadow.

The emperor listened to all of it in silence.

Then he spoke.

“She was aware of every single iteration, wasn’t she?”

Scarlett stared.

“How did you know?”

The man simply smiled, though this time there was something more sombre behind it.

His gaze moved towards the corner of the desk, where the clockwork sphere ticked and revolved in slow, continuous motion, brass rings turning around one another like the paths of tiny satellites.

“You have my thanks for sharing this experience with me, Baroness Hartford,” he said. “It offers a perspective on the history of the nation I rule that one will not often find in history books. I will not sit here and defend every action taken by my predecessors, just as I will not condemn them all from the safety of centuries later. There is little meaning in dwelling too long on what could have been. What matters more is the present, and what can still be done within it. Both for those who have suffered, and for those who have not.”

He fell silent for a few seconds.

“With that said, I do believe I would have liked to meet this Arlene Hartford. I suspect I understand something of her thinking. Perhaps, had circumstances been different, we might have found a way.”

“A way, Your Majesty?” Scarlett asked.

The emperor looked back at her, and once more, the smile he showed was a lighthearted one.

“You live an interesting life, Baroness. What you have experienced is the stuff of legends.”

Scarlett inclined her head. “I am grateful for the distinction, Your Majesty.”

He didn’t even know the beginning of the things she’d experienced, but that wasn’t important now.

“If I may, Your Majesty…” She made a show of hesitating as she looked back up at him. “There is a question I would like to ask. It pertains to the reason I requested this audience.”

The man gestured for her to continue. “Go ahead.”

“I have been trying to better understand the phenomenon that allowed me to meet and interact with Arlene Hartford, a woman who by all rights should have died generations ago. However, neither the wizards of the Rising Isle nor anyone else I have spoken with appears to be familiar with it, much less understand it. I wondered whether Your Majesty, as sovereign of our resplendent empire and no doubt exposed to some of its oldest secrets, might have heard of anything similar.”

She kept a close eye on his reaction.

Throughout the recounting of her time with Arlene, she’d been trying to get a read on whether he knew about Memories or not.

Unfortunately, she still hadn’t been able to tell much of anything.

It had reached the point where she was starting to fear this entire meeting might prove fruitless. That she would leave without learning whether he had any connection to one of The Other’s books or the mysteries surrounding Eidolon that the second princess had hinted at.

But if she asked directly, as someone who had supposedly only stumbled across the phenomenon by chance and who had recently carried out a great service in the empire’s name, then maybe she could get something out of him.

Her biggest fear was that the emperor would simply shake his head and deny everything immediately.

He did not do that.

“Baroness Hartford,” he said, voice deeper now. “There will always be mysteries in this world that we cannot entirely explain.”

Scarlett waited for him to continue.

Several seconds passed.

“I do not deny this, Your Majesty,” she eventually replied.

“I think it best if you allow this to remain one of them.”

She frowned slightly. “What does that mean, Your Majesty?”

The emperor reached for one of the books on his desk.

Scarlett’s eyes snapped towards it.

It was a slim, plain book without a title on its spine or cover, with no ornamentation beyond a small silver clasp at its edge. It looked old, but not worn. Like someone had made a point of preserving it.

Was that the book the second princess had described?

What did it contain?

The man flipped it open.

Scarlett wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but inside were only empty pages and a single sealed letter.

For the briefest moment, she thought she saw surprise cross the emperor’s expression. Then his gaze returned to her.

It stayed there for a while.

Finally, he picked up the letter between two fingers, held it in front of him for a breath, then broke the seal with his thumb and unfolded it. A subtle tension gathered around the emperor’s eyes as they moved across the letter. Line by line, whatever he read seemed to settle more heavily over him.

Eventually a sigh left him.

It sounded tired.

Tired and disappointed.

He looked back to Scarlett.

“What is your real name?” he asked.

Scarlett’s eyes widened.

“What—?”

He lifted a hand, cutting her off. “No. Never mind.”

For a moment, it was as if he had aged ten years. The strength that had filled his presence didn’t vanish, but it seemed to sink deeper, buried beneath a weariness Scarlett hadn’t noticed before.

“It was naive of me to think you were truly as straightforward as you appeared,” he said as he opened his eyes again. “As is often the case, I only learn what I need to once it is too late to change anything.”

The letter in his hand caught fire.

The paper curled inward as flakes of ash drifted between his fingers and fell onto the desk. The emperor let the last of it go, then closed the book with a soft thud.

He lifted it, turned it around, and held it out towards Scarlett.

She stared at him.

Then at the book.

“…You are giving this to me?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

The second princess had wanted Scarlett to steal this book.

She had not expected it to be handed over just like that.

“Because it will no longer speak to me.”

Scarlett remained still, both wary and confused.

Her attention returned to the man.

“Who gave you this book?” she asked.

“My Rosalind.”

“The late empress?”

“Yes.”

Scarlett frowned. “…When was this?”

Was it before the woman had supposedly died, or after?

The emperor’s eyes stayed on her.

When she still didn’t reach for the book, he placed it on the desk in front of her and rose from his chair.

“Your Majesty—” Scarlett began.

“Will you do me a favour, Baroness Hartford?”

She stopped.

The emperor fixed her with a heavy gaze.

“I do not know what weight already lies on your shoulders,” he said. “But if your loyalty to the empire and its people has not been a complete lie, then do not forget to look back at those whose lives are changed by your actions. There may come a time when your character is tested. Perhaps then, you would do well to remember what Arlene tried to teach you.”

He walked around the desk and moved past Scarlett towards the exit.

She remained seated, turning slightly in her chair to watch him as he stopped before the doors.

“Have you met with my daughters?” he asked.

Scarlett wasn’t sure whether she should answer that.

“If you meet them again,” he said, “tell them that I am sorry.”

Scarlett touched the cover of the book on the desk. “For what, Your Majesty?”

For several seconds, the emperor said nothing. Then his shoulders lowered almost imperceptibly.

“For leaving them too soon.”

He pushed the doors open and stepped out of the office.

Sir Tavion and Sir Dariel immediately fell in behind him as he continued down the corridor, their armoured steps following his in measured rhythm. Dame Iyana appeared in the doorway a moment later, her helmet turning towards Scarlett.

Scarlett still didn’t rise. Her gaze stayed on the emperor’s receding back as his words turned over in her mind.

‘Leaving them too soon.’

She thought of the emperor’s fate in the game.

Of a death that, until now, had simply been another piece of future knowledge filed away in the back of her mind.

A future that wasn’t supposed to be pre-decided anymore.

And yet…

Did the emperor know he was going to die?