Page 57 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

“This one is of a quality that befits a woman of the Dark Court. I meant the more serviceable black dress to be less conspicuous in your village, little good that it did you. It was a maid’s dress,” he explained, knotting her belt behind her back.

“That was a maid’s dress?” she exclaimed, amazed at the wealth of the nobles of old.

“I meant no insult,” he said, touching her arm.

“N-No, I mean— Was your family really so wealthy they could give such an expensive dress to a maid?”

“No noble of the Dark Court would have a poorly dressed servant. Fine clothing was a well-accepted part of their compensation. I suppose you could say my family was rich, but only moderately compared to other families.”

“You once said the Dark Court was made up of several houses. How did that work?”

“There were thirteen major houses, each aligning itself with one of the four seasons. Spring had five, summer had four, and autumn and winter had two each,” he said as he finished tying her belt. She turned around. “My house, signified by the tree, belonged to summer, and our members were proficient with fire magic, plant magic, and a few others. Rosuke’s house was the dragonfly and also belonged to summer.”

“And the previous empress? Which house did she come from?” she asked with fascination, wondering what all of the houses’ symbols were, and what their most prominent families were like.

Vallen tucked and straightened her dress while he spoke. “The empress didn’t belong to a house. When she gave birth, her daughter would become the next empress.”

“What if she didn’t have a daughter?”

“The empress was our most direct link to the Divine One. Her line was holy, and her firstborn was preordained to be a daughter. Any subsequent children chose a house on their twentieth birthday based on their seasonal affinity.”

“Their what?”

“Magic-users have a time of year when their power waxes, and the season tends to color their spellcasting. Green for spring, yellow or sometimes orange for summer, red or occasionally brown for autumn, and blue for winter. If, for example, one of the empress’s younger children aligned with autumn, they had two houses to choose from.”

“That’s kind of sad, joining a house by yourself,” she said with a frown.

“And troublesome,” he agreed with a nod. Still listening, she walked to the doors. “An empress with siblings or multiple children had to solve house squabbles without showing favoritism. Siblings sometimes came to resent an empress and would work to undermine her.”

“Couldn’t she change the rules?” She opened the door as a signal for Oka to return.

“I suppose, but the court staunchly defended its traditions.”

“How was the first empress chosen?” she asked, sitting at the table. Vallen sat next to her and tidied up the mess they’d made.

“That far back, it gets vague and poetic, but as the story goes, all magic-users felt the pull of their intended leader and came upon Empress Suzu in her home, where she sat waiting for them. They could feel the aura of her magic and knew it to be the mother of their own. Thus, she came to lead them in battle against the Damned One, whose minions were driven to the shadow of night and the Damned One’s dimension of Oblivion. She established the language of magic, local defenses for all cities and towns to protect them from demons, and formed armies to fight demon uprisings.”

“Wow. She did all of that?” she asked.

“She had help, but yes, she made the world that existed before this one. All of her successive descendants had the same aura, called the Pull of the Empress. Whenever an empress became pregnant with her heir, the whole court knew.”

“Could demons feel it? Wouldn’t they use it to find her?” she asked, absentmindedly stroking the fine material of her dress.

“No, a demon’s magic is not born from the empress but from the Foul One. They can’t tell which noble the empress is, though it was often obvious if you just looked for who had the most guards,” he said with lopsided smile.

“What happened to the last empress?”

“Killed. She was still a young woman and hadn’t yet taken a consort, so she died childless, unfortunately. When Rosuke and I found out… We had known her when she was barely tall enough to kick our shins. It was a dismal day when news reached us of the people’s uprising.”

“So there are no more empresses?”

“A new empress hasn’t been born yet, anywhere. One might never be born,” he said.

“Shumei,” Oka groaned.

She jumped in surprise and looked at her brother, who stood at the doorway. The light beyond indicated the sun was close to setting. Oka had wrapped his arms around his stomach.

“Apples not agreeing with you?” she guessed.