Despite the current cloud of war and its losses hovering over the Camelia, the change from the way it had felt the day she arrived versus now was impossible to ignore.
Sunlight streamed in the windows now, even as winter approached and the warmth left the air.
Two days after Chenzhou and Mingzhe had seen her mark, she'd finally been allowed to take the rest of the bandages off. Her skin looked like a patchwork quilt of new pink flesh, scars, and a few patches of unblemished fair skin that had somehow made it out unscathed. The first thing she'd done when the bandages came off was have her tub filled with fresh water and then carefully heated it with her magic, which was harder to control than before and something she would have to work on from now on.
Floating in the steaming water was such a relief that she nearly fell asleep, letting the water filled with oils and salts take away the last vestiges of aches and soreness. The smell of plum flower and moonberry rose with the steam as Eirian looked out over the Camelia from her bath.
Moss and grass were starting to grow along the volcanic rock, and in the distance, the burned prairie land was a dark slash beneath the horizon. Chenzhou was still rotating troops out to the new front, but thus far, there'd been no sign of action from the Land Song and Snow. Eirian figured they were licking their wounds and would for a long time. So much unsuccessful destruction would draw criticism from even their staunchest allies among the civilizations on the Rock, and they would need to be careful lest it cost them even more than it already had.
Eric's letter had finally arrived that morning, Eirian tearing it open and poring over it as soon as Marian had handed it to her.
It wasn't as good as she'd been hoping, but it wasn't the worst case either. Eric had detailed the happenings since his coronation and Eirian and Chenzhou had left the capital. Her father and his allies had pushed forward with their attempts to establish a council that held real power in the capital.
They'd succeeded, Eric had written. His father had been beloved by the people of the kingdom, and his death had scared them. Francis had played on that, nursing fears about a young, untested king desperate to make his mark. Never mind that Eric had never wanted to be king and held no ambitions beyond keeping his people alive and his kingdom at peace. Francis had succeeded in creating the council, which was awarded power by the High Court to oversee the usage of all funds in the kingdom. They couldn't dictate where funds went, block, or confiscate funds, which was apparently what Francis had asked for first, but they could demand accounting and justifications that would tie up public funds for months, even years, if someone was particular.
It didn't hurt anyone but the people, which was where Eric's frustration lay, but Francis had been convincing enough that the public had bought into it. The only upside he'd noted was that it had alienated him from the Imperial Army and the High Court. Since most of the public funds came from the families of the court and their personal interests, the idea that Francis and his allies were supposed to be informed, that they would have to justify their decisions to him, had not gone over well, and her father and his fellow councilmen had been ostracized rather viciously.
Her father wasn't mature or self-aware enough to see how his own decisions had done that to him, but Eirian knew he would be furious when the invitations stopped coming. She wondered how many of those on this council would still want their positions after a season where their children were locked out and unable to find successful matches. Power was a strong motivator, but Eirian couldn't imagine coming home to a miserable, resentful family was worth it, especially since they wouldn't be able to get rid of said family if they were being ostracized. They'd probably start bribing the council, which would get out, because it always did, and any trust in her father and his friends would be destroyed. Eventually, it would give Eric the ammunition he needed to remove them all, but there was no telling how long that would take.
Eric's power base remained mostly intact. Helena had stepped in when it came to choosing who was on the council itself, so Francis had only gotten to pick half.
And somehow, in a rather awesome feat of manipulation and game play, Helena had managed to secure a seat for herself on the council, but she'd played it off as a way to hold the council in check, so she was being celebrated instead of ostracized, which probably drove her father mad. Especially since Helena had known him long enough to know exactly how to twist the knife.
Eric had been following the conflict in the borderlands, but assured her he had never really been worried, at least not until he'd seen the smoke and the refugees had started arriving.
He'd tasked Francis and his council with dealing with them, which had made Eirian laugh outright. It had been a strain on the city's resources and still was, but with the fire out people had begun to leave rapidly. Unsurprisingly, none of them wanted to be crammed into tiny spaces with barely a square foot of space to their name amid thousands of strangers.
Eric had still ordered Francis to document everyone who had come and gone and when, as well as putting together care packages to get them back on their feet. At his mother's insistence, he'd announced it before telling Francis, which is what Eirian would have done, to make sure the credit remained solely with the King.
Despite his early victory, Francis was clearly being held in check by Helena and Eric could devote most of his attention to learning to rule as the king instead of the prince. He didn't like it, he wrote. Someone always disagreed with whatever decision he made, regardless of how well-thought out or how much sense it made. It was infuriating and Eirian had at least written back that he was probably handling it better than she would have.
The rest of his letter had recounted the gossip of the High Court, because he knew Eirian enjoyed it. A few surprise pregnancies, marriage agreement breakdowns, scandelous meetings interupted by unsuspecting parents and chaperones. It all segued neatly to his request at the end of the letter.
It seems I am need of a wife, cousin. Perhaps you have some idea?
~ tbc