Empress Shlaweya Molokhiyya of the Empire of Sonhrai has a decent number of heirs. Emperor Consort Evie Shemesh had been her first choice after. . . what has now been forgotten but at one point known as a mismatched scandal. She remembers Evie's initial shyness as the omega rolled his hips in their bridal chambers dressed in gold and sparkling as bright as the lanterns. With a distant blood relation to former Pharaohs and the El Mahdy, there was nothing to discuss when it came to legitimacy. The word grace stuck out to her. And with three children between them, two omegas and one alpha, there was nothing else in her expectations.
She married Imperial Noble Consort Ainomugisha Malahi after, one who wore the markings of his people displayed plainly across his skin. The people called him the People's Royal. To Shlaweya, Aino would've been her chosen spouse in any lifetime and any walk of life. Freedom and love were the words that stuck out. His flirtatious nature never failed to wind her up. Two alpha children and omega was what they shared between them.
Then there is her Imperial Consort Eli Malik. Purely a political marriage, at first, with the Maliks owning the greater portion of mercantile businesses and port ownership. His brusque and forward nature fell off him in waves. He didn't submit or beg but perhaps that is her favorite aspect of him. When she caught him in her arms, it was a game of wills and moans. They only have one heir between them, an alpha child.
Each of them balanced the other because, before all else, it was about her Empire first.
But as she read her reports and ruminated over the ongoing of the kingdom, she knew her children weren't children any longer. Her palace was built with the stones of the fallen palace of former Pharaohs murdered in the centuries past struggle. Streaks and drawings of ancient figures spread across her palace walls without reason except reminder for what was lost. Tall, thick columns carved with mosaic shapes post on the corners of the palace with marble flooring leading the paths to the indoor pools one way, outdoor pools in another, the rooms all sat on the upper floor, and the kitchens settled in the back where the servants could rest comfortably when not needed.
The entrance of the palace led straight to the great hall where they held court with two winding paths from either side leading to rest of the palace. Today's court would finalize whether their empire will bend to the wills of the Western and Eastern Empires, or will they untwist the knotted web they stuck to.
Her ministers filled the court as the earliest morning horn blew. She could hear their ruffling tera-tera beaded clothes as their footsteps snapped into the room. A few of them wore interwoven clothing with silk and mesh, the mark of that foreigner's weaving seeping into her court. A frown filled her face.
"What displeases you, our Empress?" her Minister of Agriculture, Taharqa Hakimi, said. A willowy man with a reedy figure. He wore a simple robe with gold circles around his limbs and neck as proof of his bloodline. Several generations of nobility shrunk to one man with the sole interest in the ingenuity of food. "Our seasons have been calm, and the moon smiles upon us with peace for years now."
The Minister of Finance, Babatu Cissé, said, "The foreigners, who else? They still press at our borders and explain the need to replace their Eastern Commander with another.".
A solid man and a former soldier, he kept the military in peak condition before the full takeover by the Western and Eastern Empires twenty years ago. This former rough-hewn rogue chiseled into a sharp man with even sharper acuity when it came to profits. An easy choice for the position he held.
Their Minister of Finance, like Taharqa, were famous scholars in their days and in their youth. They split off into simpler careers not because they wanted to but because of the failure of their Empire in war and protection. Their hours of greater youth spent tucked away.
Male alphas were rare and, although rarely extraordinary, very fertile, much like female omegas. Large bloodlines had dwindled down due to centuries of war and were needed figures for her Empire. They stood as great symbols of prosperity and growth, even more crucial in the positions these two alphas held.
She chose them, much like her consorts, out of the necessity of stabilizing their kingdoms and assuaging fears.
"Their suspicions are sound," Minister Hakimi argues. "Commander Saavedra's death was suspicious. We have found no answers of why or who had committed it. Or even if it was an accident. Had this been one of our own Commanders, we would also be rightly frustrated."
Minister Cissé scoffed. "That is why they chose Puneet Rasoya, then, as a possible inheritor of the position. We all know how much that woman hates us. When she controlled the waters, half of our people starved in a few short seasons."
"And yet she married one of our people," Minister Hakimi replied. "She must've found some value in our empire."
"Pillaging! Thievery! That's the only value she found. Her spouse is a child. Not even finished his age ceremony yet! Blasphemous!"
The Empress interceded as their voices raised and anger spread, placing her hand on her temple. She added, "Imperial Consort Malik has been clear that it was a two-prong attack from both Commanders. We have recovered from most of those damages. Rasoya was a servant to her masters, just as anyone else. "
"You suggest that we give them a new master, then?" Her Secretary scribe, Kinya Sarakhs, said. "I can send informants to review options to do so."
"Oh ho ho," Minister Cissé drawled. "The small scholar rises quickly to the side of the Empress. Do not think that we have missed your movements as of late."
The Grand Hall doors opened, and one of her guards entered and spoke out, "The rest of your court has arrived. Should they be let in?"
With Kinya recording what little progress was made today, she sighed and said, "Yes, let us start court. And you two, behave when the peace talks begin."
"I cannot pretend it isn't a ruse, my liege."
"Not even I can do that."
Well, now she knew there were things the two ministers could agree on.
The tribe Clan leaders stepped in on one end of the grand hall, dressed in the purples and gold of nobility, with her officials and guild leaders entering on the other end. It was only the foreign minister who strode in right through the middle to greet her directly.
"Greetings to Empress Shlaweya. I bring chests of porcelain and celadon with silkworms and silk as gifts of friendship between our two nations." The ambassador was dressed in layered red and gold silks designed with symbols familiar to her Empire and unlikely to be worn on Eastern Empire clothing.
"Arise," she told the ambassador. "Inform us what we can do to bridge the gap between our Empires."
This woman, she had been informed and reminded with a curt nod from Kinya to confirm her identity, was a distant family member of the Eastern Empire's royal family--Candise Chen. Even her spouse borne from the underbelly of criminal factions bore the titles of manipulated nobility. Even with legitimate birth, she was raised by servants on the outskirts of her kingdom. Servants purposefully chosen from Shlaweya's Empire to raise her.
To her mind, this was madness. The Eastern Empire chose someone with grudges against them, raised by the enemy with criminal connections, to mediate between them.
And then she was reminded, this was to suggest that they wanted mediation at all. Candise Chen was a trap for her Empire to fall into.
"I am here to propose a new trade agreement," Ambassador Chen bolstered. She raised her hands in a sweeping gesture, her robes flourishing outward, and kneeled to the ground with a heavy thump echoing in the chamber. "We wish to build an organized transport system between our three great lands, headed and handled by a council of representatives from each of our empires."
Minister Cissé said incredulously, "And share what little profits we have? My liege, they can't be serious."
"I hear," Empress Shlaweya started. "That your northern lands have their deserts and that they have spread. I hear that your people are in need of food because they are starving. I do not think this is a coincidence."
Her voice sat in the halls like a weighted axe hovering above.
Ambassador Chen must have sensed the shift and bowed deeper, as she said, "We also extend the opportunity for an educational hub where we may exchange ideas on agriculture, government. . . and inventions."
"Like weaponry?" Minister Cissé asked directly before sharing a look with Empress Shlaweya when the Ambassador did not correct him. "And these are your Emperor's promises and not your sugar-coated words."
"They are directly from Emperor Jung's words," Ambassador Chen said. "I have nothing else to add."
"We have lodgings prepared for you, so let my scribe here, Kinya Sarakh, be your line of communication as they direct you to your proper housing." Shlaweya gestured for the Ambassador to leave and waited until the stone Great Hall doors slammed shut.
The tribe Clan leader's were the first to speak up.
"It's a trap! I know it is."
"It does sound a bit too good to be true."
The Ngwe Clan leader and the Aliyu Okon Clan leader agreed.
"You two have always played it safe," the Matriarch of the El Mahdy clan admonished. "It's clear what they're thinking, even if it is a trap."
The Sun Ra Clan leader agreed with El Mahdy. "A trap you can see isn't a trap you can fall into unless you want to."
Empress Shlaweya nodded and said, "It appears to me that tension within the military is true within the Empires themselves. The Eastern Empire grows tired of the Western Empire and will act openly soon."
"We can't allow them to use us as battering rams, my liege," Minister Hakimi added. "If they wish to see us as allies, then they must treat us as equals and not servants at their biding."
"But we cannot use the Ambassador to force the issue," Minister Cissé countered. "They hope to use her as a leash."
In the silence that followed, as worried glances and frustrated glares were shared among them, Kinya Sarakh spoke, "Someone must infiltrate the military. They must stoke more discontent between them and force the Eastern Empire to trust their Ambassador to lend that trust on us."
"And you know of someone?" Empress Shlaweya glanced at the scribe. "Someone that can be trusted."
"There is something they desperately want and something only you can offer them."
Shlaweya dismissed the Clan leaders and even her ministers as they complained on the way out. She caught Minister Cissé's glare at Sarakh but ignored it. That was none of her business.
"Babatu is not wrong," She told the bowing scribe. "Your son is to marry both my cousin's child and an El Mahdy. Those are grand motions from someone who has always carried themselves as my simple scribe."
"You know of my past, then it means you know of my daughter trapped in the Eastern Empires," Kinya said carefully. "The last twenty years have been long."
She nodded ruefully. "You wish to bring her back."
"Yes, but things are different now," he said ever so carefully. "She is married."
Empress Shlaweya had not been suspicious of the scribe until this very second. She slammed her fist on the throne. "Explain and stop your sidewandering like a snake."
He bowed forward again, repeating the ritualistic gesture before he spoke again, "She is married to a prince of the Eastern Empire."
"One of Emperor Jung's sons?"
"Yes."
Laughter bubbled in her chest, and it rattled in her lungs. Then, abruptly, she fell silent as her eyes fell over her simple scribe. She said, coldly, feeling the ice spread across her own chest, "What are your plans?"
"I only wish for my daughter to return but-" and then Kinya Sarakh swallowed. "I wish for her and her husband to return to replace the Ambassador's position."
Shlaweya felt the tightness in her chest ease. She said, "The chairs for the throne make you fear for her life."
"It does indeed."
"Fine, but do not expect any help from my end." Empress Shlaweya's eyes bore into his skin even as he bowed again, unable to see her gaze. "You are allowed use of your position's resources to make ends meet. And your son's marriage--it is acceptable."
"Thank you, my liege, thank you," Kinya Sarakh repeated profusely as he bowed until sweat stained his robes and brows. "Many, many thanks."
"Do not fail us."
She waved him off and wondered if this allowance was made in kindness or cruelty. As she said before, it was none of her business how her ministers acted in the plays of court.
The Sonhrai Empire would stand strong.