The Truth Will Set You Free

[Salem Ave]

For the first time in months, Star Home (https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Home) was sighted in the sky above Hapes Prime. The return of the gargantuan starship could mean only one thing: House Alastor had returned to Hapes. In the hours before Star Home had entered the planetary atmosphere, a call had gone out to representatives of each of the sixty-three worlds that made up the Hapes Cluster. It requested their presence on the throne world as the Chume and her household returned to their home for the first time since an assassin had attacked the Fountain Palace (https://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?55383-Abandonment-10-045). "You are summoned to Lorell Hall," the message said. "The Chume'doro have uncovered important information regarding the treasonous attempt on the Chume's life."

Undoubtedly, such a message had caused ripples through the court. Salem Ave had witnessed a gathering of the Consortium's legislative body only once before (https://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?23371-Beyond-the-Sea) and knew all too well how uncertainty fed the endless churn of whispers and spite that seemed to power the Cluster. The time it had taken for each ta'din, ducha, dukana, and turila to reach Hapes from their respective worlds had been long enough to begin pondering the potential ramifications of the coming news, but not so long that they could do anything meaningful about it.

Now, they clustered beneath the gilded ceiling of Lorell Hall. Though the hall was not strictly part of the Fountain Palace, it's mirrored walls and plush, royal blue furnishings had all of the hallmarks of wealth and power. It had played host to many significant meetings in the Consortium's past, including an unsuccessful yet notably bloody coup, during which each member of the Chume'doro had thrust the point of their weapons into the body of the would-be usurper.

Perhaps aware of the history that they stood in the presence of, many members of the court mingled only with the delegates who come from their own region of the Cluster. Representatives of the Inner Region had little interest in sharing false pleasantries with those from the Transitory Mists. Women of all ages, some who had governed planets for decades, others who had never before laid eyes on the court in its entirety yet could easily see the invisible boundaries that separated one gathering of women from another. Only the servants, carrying trays of refreshments, moved discretely across the lines between cliques.

From time to time, someone would cast a glance at the huge pair of engraved doors at the far end of the hall. Doors at the top of a flight of carpeted stairs, through which no one had emerged so far. Doors guarded on either side by members of the Chume'doro. Doors that concealed the Chume and her retinue as they prepared to make their entrance.

[Lira Terranova]

For the last six years, Lira Terranova had been at Razielle's beck and call. They had both been very young girls when Razielle had become a ward of Onderon. At the start, they had gotten along very well. Despite the gap in their social standings, Lira felt sure that the princess had considered her a friend, and in time a confidante. Lira was Razielle's secret keeper. There were many things she knew. Many more she suspected, and none of them ever had or would pass her lips. That said, if she were to have an opinion, it would be that this was the first time in all of those years that the woman seemed happy.

Regarding the regent now, Lira was very much aware of the cause.

Razielle, in Hapan blue shimmersilk, embroidered with gold thread, seemed to be having a last word with the Chume before they went in. She had one finger beneath her daughter's chin, obviously quite serious about the subject. Lira did not interfere with Beatrix when her mother was present, and did not feel it was her place to wonder what they spoke of. They were not alone either.

Silent as a carved statue, Lira inclined her head toward Salem Ave, man of the hour, it would seem.

[Beatrix]

Beatrix frowned. "I understand."

"Do you? I hope so. You are ereneda. You will be protected. Your judgement swift and final." Her mother spoke like these facts were carved in stone.

For this event, the Queen Mother of the Hapes Consortium had chosen to follow her mother's lead and don a traditional blue. She had put on all of her favorite jewelry and sat through a terrible long time having her hair styled.. The little queen was as prepared as she could possibly be.

"I am ready."

[Razielle Alastor]

Nodding her approval at her daughter, Razielle looked up from the small stature of the Chume to the girl's true father.

It was a constant effort for Razielle to keep the look of.. a cat who had been at the cream.. off her face. After years of promises of some day.. some day was here.

The assemblage had lined up the moment Beatrix had said she was ready. There was nothing else to be said until they had joined the gathering of Hapan noblesse beyond the doors.

Shall we? The thought, carried by the Force, was sent brazen as you please. No thought was given toward concealment, or caution.

That was behind her.

[Salem Ave]

Salem stood a step behind the young monarch and her mother. Gone was the grey and green half-cloak that usually draped over his left shoulder, a sign of his allegiance to Onderon. Gone too was the minimalist business suit that served as his uniform to so many meetings in the Alliance Senate. The fact that he still wore the Alliance starbird pinned to his lapel would almost certainly go unnoticed, given his appearance as a whole. His attire was now undeniably Hapan, cut from royal blue cloth and with a slight nod towards the golden trim favoured by the Royal Navy. He might have blended in among the crew aboard a Hapan Battle Dragon, were it not for his pure-white eyes and the peculiar looking metal cylinder strapped to his belt.

Ready, his voice said inside Razielle's mind.

At a nod from the Queen Regent, one of the Chume'doro stepped up to the doors and knocked once. On the other side of the doors, her counterparts heard the signal and the doors swung inwards toward the Chume. The hall beyond fell into a sudden hush, as the royal party was announced.

"Her radiant majesty, Queen Beatrix!"

[Lira Terranova]

The House of Alastor was represented as a united front as the doors opened. As was her right, Chume Beatrix was front and center, flanked to either side by her guardswomen. Following just behind the child queen was her mother, the regent, escorted on the arm of Salem Ave. Behind them a respectful distance, Ta'din Terranova and the rest of the royal party. In an orderly procession, they took up their places, which put Lira some distance down from the regent, but always on her right side.

Hands folded before her, the queen's lady watched proudly.

They would not have been here at all without the marriage of Razielle to Tristan Alastor, but Lira noted privately, this was how it was always supposed to have been.

[Beatrix]

Beatrix squashed the urge to look to her mother for confirmation a final time. The queen was aware of what was expected of her.

All eyes on her, Beatrix lifted one small hand. The Arkanian diamond bracelet circling her wrist caught the light of the Cluster as she began to speak, clear and precisely. The play of prismatic refraction off the gems sparkled out into the assembly in a way that attracted the personal attention of those gathered. To them, it were as though their queen were bestowing some special touch.

"My mother, my regent, will deliver our proclamation regarding the future of House Alastor's beneficence to the history of the Consortium."

And that had been a mouthful, but she had gotten it out remarkably well.

[Razielle Alastor]

With her daughter's part completed, attention captured and subtle reminder of just who they were dealing with delivered by the lovely little package, the regent smiled at Beatrix.

"Let me begin with joyful news." Razielle turned her head slightly regarding Salem, just briefly, before turning back to the crowded room. "Mother Ishara had a vision that she shared with me."

For one moment, Razielle wished the bitch still had a head, just so she could have lived to witness this little gem thrown back in her face.

"In her own venerated words, it was her fondest wish that we should, in this age of unity and friendship, make a marriage not only of planets, but also of hearts. (https://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?17365-The-Festival-of-Four-Moons&p=259955&viewfull=1#post259955) While our hearts will always mourn for our departed Prince Tristan, we must look to the future. Mother Ishara, Queen Adraudia of Onderon, and myself have all benefited from the wisdom and stability of Salem Ave. It pleases me, it pleases Beatrix, to inform you that from this day until our last, Salem Ave will be my royal consort, setting aside all other allegiances for the betterment of the Consortium, as Lord Protector."

[Salem Ave]

The silence that followed Razielle’s words was absolute. It had to be the first time that a gathering of the court had been speechless. Salem felt the confusion radiating out through the Lorell Hall. This was not the announcement that had been promised. The selection and courtship of a royal consort was an incredibly important matter that typically involved a great deal of input from the court, as the many houses vied for their place beside the throne. Even in their silence, however, the thoughts of the assembled court rang loud in Salem’s ears.

“How dare she?”

“I need to speak to the others about this.”

“What a darling child.”

"It should have been my son standing beside her. Curse her eyes."

“An outsider! An alien!”

“Wonderful!”

“Stars rest Tristan Alastor’s soul…”

“How marvellous her majesty looks.”

“This would not have happened in Ishara’s time.”

In his place at Razielle’s side, the Lord Protector said nothing. Instead, he merely settled one clawed hand on the shoulder of the young Chume.

[Marine Lecavalier]

“There will be time for celebrations later,” said a new voice.

As one, the focus and attention of the room shifted from Salem Ave to another familiar figure. There was no mistaking her as anything other than a member of the Chume’doro, the Hapan Royal Guard. The court knew her as the woman who taken command of the guard in the wake of Ishara Alastor’s death, when her predecessor had taken her own life for failing to protect the late Chume. Since that date, Major Marine Lecavalier had been a permanent fixture at the side of the monarch. Now, she took a step forward, placing herself just a fraction ahead of the royal party. When the Major moved, other members of the Chume’doro began to disperse throughout the hall.

“With her majesty’s approval, I will now share results of my agents investigations into the attempted to assault the Fountain Palace.”

[Beatrix]

It was not lost on the little queen that not all of her adoring subjects were pleased with her mother's joyful news. There was a pause, while the news was processed. Beatrix was grateful for the timely interruption of the Chume'doro commander.

The touch of the hand upon her shoulder gave her courage.

"What have you learned, major?"

[Marine Lecavalier]

“Majesty,” Marine dipped her head as she was acknowledged. After a respectful pause, she made her way down into the hall proper, to the polished marble floor where the ladies of the court were gathered.

“It is our conclusion that while the attempted assassination on the crown was made by a single individual, it was orchestrated by many. Far from being a random act of violence, perpetrated by a sick mind, it was the culmination of many months of careful preparation, and may well be only the first in a series of acts of terror against our sovereign mother.” She paused, lips twisted into something verging upon a sneer. “My agents continue to work tirelessly to uncover the identities of this… cabal, and have been successful in identifying one of the conspirators responsible for this heinous act.”

The Major stopped still and her eyes passed over the assembled crowd of women, roving over a dozen faces before settling on the one, unassuming figure that she sought.

“Guards, seize the Ducha Al’Mont! Bring her to the centre of the hall.”

A cry went up from somewhere in the room, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Primed and ready, four members of the Chume’doro encircled the Ducha, while the other noble ladies scattered from around her like pigeons from a cat. With no care or consideration for the ornate gown she wore, the guardswomen pulled the squirming Ducha towards the empty space at the centre of the room. Other women backed away as she passed them by, as if her guilt was contagious.

“This is an outrage!” the Ducha Al’Mont snarled. “I have done nothing but serve the Consortium!”

She was thrust into the centre of the room, with an agent of the Chume’doro on every side of her, the points of their polearms poised in such a position that one wrong move could see the Ducha impaled on eight blades.

“This is absurd! I had no part in this! You are being lied to!”

Surrounded, her eyes darted frantically between the faces around her. What she was faced with was a sea of confusion and of uncertainty. The powers of the Chume’doro were well known; they could arrest anyone and required no cause or evidence to hold a prisoner indefinitely. To speak out against them was to invite the kind of unconstrained justice that the Ducha Al’Mont was about to receive.

“Ordinarily, such a crime as this might warrant the exile of the entirety of the House Al’Mont,” Marine went on. “But our majesty is merciful.”

At this, the Major turned her head a fraction, looking towards the newly proclaimed Lord Protector.

[Salem Ave]

In a gesture small enough to go unnoticed, the Lord Protector squeezed Queen Beatrix’s shoulder for a second and then, without further pause, started down the long staircase towards Major Lecavalier and the spectacle at the centre of the hall.

“What evidence do you have? There can be none!”

The women clustered at the edge of the hall parted at Salem’s approach, edging away until their backs were against the wood-panelled walls.

“This is utterly preposterous. You cannot lay the blame for this at my-”

“Silence.” Salem thrust one hand forward, clawed fingers twitching in a violent grasping motion. The Ducha Al’Mont’s eyes bulged, her protests becoming first gurgles and then strangled gasps.

A second later, there were sharp gasps from the rest of the room as, while the Lord Protector still stalking forwards, his hand lifted and with it the Ducha rose sharply into the air, her slippered feet dangling and wiggling beneath her. As one, the Chume’doro took a step forward and angled their weapons upwards, the points of each polearm still trained on the Ducha Al’Mont’s torso.

Salem’s claws snapped into a fist and the Ducha’s face began to darken.

“Your majesty,” he said, turning so that with arm still outstretched and the Ducha still in his grasp, he could look back down the length of the hall towards Beatrix.

"Pronounce the sentence."

[Beatrix]

Beatrix lifted her eyes from the form of the struggling woman, to those of her.. Lord Protector, at his voice. She had barely heard him. Inside her head, all she could hear was the roar and pounding of her own blood. There were so many things she was feeling, all at once. She was not afraid that she was about to make a mistake, that was not possible. She did not make mistakes. That was a failing by people who were not the Chume of Hapes. Still, her tummy rolled around with bile, much the same way Ducha Al'Mont's head rolled around as she struggled to breathe.

Do not draw it out., Had been her mother's advice, when Beatrix had been told what would happen. Beatrix could see now why, the longer the ducha lived, the longer she suffered.

She understood. The Ducha Al'Mont was one of the people responsible for the attack on her city, and the woman would pay with her life one way or another. This particular way would send a much bigger message. So that anyone intent upon harming her again would know the fate that awaited them.

It was for her protection.

You are ereneda. You will be protected. Your judgement swift and final.

"This makes me sad. This is not what I wanted for one of my noble families. An example must be made.", her little bow of a mouth parted to deliver her judgement. "Treason can only be paid for with life. The Ducha's is forfeit, Lord Protector. Finish her."

[Salem Ave]

Without another word, the Lord Protector snatched his fist upward. There was an audible crunch and the Ducha Al’Mont hit the polished marble floor with a weighty thud. Somewhere in the hall, someone muffled a sob.

In the time of Ishara Alastor, public executions had not been common. Beatrix’s predecessor was a woman who preferred to inflict mental pain, rather than physical. Like many of her contemporaries, if Ishara shed blood, it was in private and by proxy.

There was no doubt that many of the women in the Lorell Hall had ordered executions of their rivals, but few would ever see the consequences of their actions. Corpses were glimpsed only after preparation for a funeral, when they had the beautiful illusion of being in a peaceful sleep. Yet, there was nothing peaceful about the body of Ducha Al’Mont.

Salem lowered his still outstretched hand, but made no further movement, his face void of emotion.

[Lira Terranova]

The crunch of the ducha's neck snapping gave many of the noble ladies in the hall cause to gasp, or to look away. Anywhere but at the look of pain and panic etched upon skin turned blue. Lira could do no such thing. Her own slim neck prickled, feeling suddenly exposed as she imagined what absolute terror that woman must have just experienced. Yet, her own chin remained held aloft in a pose of complete acceptance and approval of Chume Beatrix's will.

No going back now.

Lira had long been the sin eater for Razielle, and for Salem if she were honest, but at least there was one less burden to carry alone now. By this hour tomorrow, there would not be a soul within Consortium space that had not heard about this display. It had been witnessed by the majority of their illustrious peerage. To a member of that same peerage. This sort of news would travel quite quickly, she estimated.

Salem Ave, Lord Protector, Royal Consort, user of for'ta. Executioner of the Ducha Al'Mont..

Resisting the urge to fidget with the court gown that Beatrix had insisted she wear, Lira swallowed and just hoped her Queen Bea would be alright. It was.. a lot for a child. Blue gaze settling on the queen, Lira found her expression to be somber, but otherwise unaffected. No tears. No quivering lip. No childish displays for the Queen Mother..

[Marine Lecavalier]

It was Major Lecavalier’s voice that broke the grim silence.

“Tarix Protecteur...”

When Ave met her gaze with his empty, white eyes, Lecavalier merely inclined her head in a slight nod. The Lord Protector nodded in return and turned away from the grisly display before him. As he stalked back towards the royal party, Marine stepped forward and signalled with two gloved fingers towards the former Ducha.

“Chume’doro, take her away.”

Sparing the Ducha Al’Mont the indignity of being dragged from the room by her ankles, four of the royal guards shouldered the burden of the dead body. Marine watched them go, turning back to the hall at large in time to see Salem Ave take a place beside the Chume and her mother.

“If you have information regarding this crime, you may speak to me or one of my agents in confidence.”

[Razielle Alastor]

Behind the Queen Mother, her own mother stood observing. An expression of pure satisfaction lending a sense of softness to otherwise hardened features. Whatever might be said about the regent, it was abundantly clear that she loved her daughter, and in this very difficult situation, she was proud of how she was handling herself. Exactly as she was expected to.

As for the Ducha Al'Mont, the only thing that she had received from the queen regent was a cold, hard stare. The sort of implacable expression you would expect to find on someone when presented with the architect of their assault. Absolutely no shred of mercy for the woman as she was dragged before the assembly and summarily executed. The Queen Mother herself had ordered it done, and there was no argument to be had.

So very tidy.

The moment the ducha fell, lifelessly heavy, to the floor the Chume'doro at last began to ease back with their polearms, though a perimeter was still maintained around the body. Violet eyes lifted from the sight, settling on the one responsible. One corner of her mouth curled, just slightly, in an indulgent smile. Damn, she loved him.

The ducha was carried away to a terrible silence, only broken by the sound of the major's voice, inquiring for further information. Razielle wondered just how fast they would all turn on each other..? It was all very Hapan, actually. Solidarity among the nobles was not the status quo. They would be plotting how to throw rivals beneath the wheels, or curry favor with false news, before leaving this hall. It would make the major's work tedious.

Any sense of appeasement on Razielle's face was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Once again she was the affronted regent, unwilling to compromise where her daughter was concerned. "As for House Al'Mont.."

Her words carried out to the entirety of Lorell Hall. "Beatrix will reflect on their future. Have someone from that House ready to receive her judgement when that time comes."

[Salem Ave]

Later that afternoon, when the noble ladies of the Consortium had begun the trip back to their respective planets, Lorell Hall was empty but for five figures. The Queen, Queen Regent, and Lord Protector stood almost in the middle of the hall, while Lira Terranova and Marine Lecavalier lingered at a short, respectful distance away. The young Queen Mother was not far from the unblemished spot on the marble floor where the Ducha Al’Mont had fallen. Salem stood behind her and glanced for a moment at Razielle before he spoke.

“Well done.”

[Beatrix]

Lifting her eyes from the place on the floor where the ducha had fallen dead, Beatrix turned her head a little at the sound of his voice.

They had told her what would happen, but she hadn't really known what it would be like. She was still deciding how she felt about it all. Beatrix said nothing, but she did turn around after nodding. Walking up to her father, she simply reached up and wrapped her fingers around one of his clawed digits. The same hand that had just ended the life of the Ducha Al'Mont, in fact.

[Razielle Alastor]

Razielle might have been jealous, had the sight not made her smile. It was lucky that Beatrix favored her looks, because with the expression of apathetic calmness mastered, she certainly took after Salem in many other ways. Reaching down, she sifted her fingers through her daughter's hair. There was no way to soften this for her, it was simply how it had to be. Likely, there would be more..

"What would you like to do now, Beatrix?"

The child had done superbly, and after getting through that as well as she had, deserved whatever her heart desired. Although what to give the girl who had everything was a riddle..

[Salem Ave]

When the young Chume said said nothing, Salem looked up to meet Razielle’s eyes.

“You were strong today, Beatrix. We’re proud of you.”

[Beatrix]

Her fingers squeezed around her father's for just a moment. It helped a bit, that he was proud of her. That was what she had wanted really.

Lifting her little bejeweled head, Beatrix answered her mother. "I'd like to go with Lira, to the garden."

The garden she meant being the glass enclosed one her mother had designed and had built around what had only been a terrace before. It was her favorite place to play, when at the Fountain Palace at least.

It was not her first inclination. At first, it had occurred to ask for someone her own age to talk to. She'd never really been around other children. There were countless advantages to being the Queen, but it was also a burden that Beatrix was finding lonely. Lira at least would help her feel better, that was just a side effect of being around her.

[Salem Ave]

“Lira.”

Pitching his voice just a little louder was enough for it to carry the length of the hall. Salem turned from the young Chume, looking back towards the contrasting figures of the her lady and the commander of her guard. Lira in her expansive gown and Marine in her form-fitting armour.

“Please escort ereneda to the botanical gardens.”

As Lira came forward to collect Beatrix, Salem met Major Lecavalier’s level gaze with a faint nod. The Chume’doro would not be far behind as Ta’din Terranova lead the way to the enclosed garden.

[Lira Terranova]

Lira's head turned from what Major Lecavalier had been saying at the sound of her name. A month ago, she would have peeked in the direction her name had been called from beneath the wide brim of a hat she had chosen just to hide beneath. It seemed to be the end of an era, as Beatrix had decided one morning she did not like them, Lira's hats. Feeling quite exposed, she nodded in acknowledgement.

"Major.", she excused herself from the Commander of the Chume'doro, to attend their queen.

As she approached, Lira kept her eyes on Beatrix until she had reached the the three of them. "Of course.. Lord Protector."

There would be no protest, from Lira at least, regarding Salem Ave's new appointment.

Lira glanced down to where Beatrix kept hold of Salem's hand, and instinct told her to hold out her own. It looked like the little girl needed something sturdy to hold onto just then. "When you are ready, my Treasured One."

[Razielle Alastor]

Beatrix let go of Salem, placing her hand in Lira's with the sort of trust only given to someone absolutely dependable. The Queen Regent understood the confidence that her daughter had placed in the stoic little lady from Onderon, having also been relying on Lira Terranova herself for years. That sort of dedication was a rarity. Razielle watched them go, inclining her head toward Major Lecavalier as well. The major was free to go, all the better to keep watch over her queen. With only Salem left in the hall with her, there was no threat that could touch her.

"She is not as alright as she would have us believe.", she commented when they were alone.

Beatrix might be handling it well now, but it was an event that would stay with her.

[Salem Ave]

Salem looked, pensive, towards the door that Lira and her two chaperones had departed through.

“She has to learn.”