Devourer

Chapter 226: The Idyllic Royal

Princess Celene groaned as she stretched her back. Her studies were grueling but she understood the necessity. At the end of the day, she was the younger sister of Cecilia Averlon, the Empress of the greatest Empire this continent has ever seen. With territory from the eastern coast, through Zarima desert and to the dead lands of Necoronas.

Celene gazed down at the absolute mammoth of a tome titled the “Masterworks of Civilization: The Definitive Guide to Urban Splendor by the Visionary Architect Aurelius Kendrel”. Despite its rather tactless name it still was an excellent book on the subject. Especially considering Aurelius Kendrel was the man who worked closely with her older sister and the Great Beast on the redesign of the capital.

Celene glanced out the window at the sprawling city below and one word kept humming in her mind.

Averlon.

The name lingered in Princess Celene’s thoughts as she sat alone in her room in the Sovereign Spire. The cool evening breeze brushed against her skin, carrying the faint hum of the city’s magic. Below her, Averlon stretched out in every direction, an unending sea of spires, streets, and enchanted light. It was impossible not to feel awed by its sheer scale, a sprawling metropolis that had been little more than a city-state just a few short years ago.

Cecilia Averlon, Empress of the Averlonian Empire, founder of this thriving dominion. It was a name that would be etched into history, and deservedly so. In the span of a few years, Cecilia had transformed Averlon from a modest city-state into the beating heart of an empire that stretched far beyond its original borders. Celene felt a rush of pride as she thought of her sister’s accomplishments. Yet, beneath that pride was a sense of awe that bordered on disbelief. Cecilia has always been the most talented child, that was plainly obvious. After all, Celene had no prophecies about her.

Cecilia had always been destined for greatness. Even as children, Cecilia’s vision had been unshakable. Celene could still picture her sister standing pointing to the distant hills and rivers and proclaiming that one day they would all belong to Averlon. At the time, it had seemed like an impossible dream, the kind of ambition only a child could hold. Ambition was always something Cecilia had, and endless was her hunger. Perhaps that was why she found such kinship with the Great Beast.

Averlon was alive in a way that few cities could claim to be. The Arcanum Quarter shimmered in the distance, its spires pulsing faintly with the energy of scholars and magisters who delved into the mysteries of the arcane. The Gilded Market, even at this hour, thrummed with the sound of merchants hawking their wares goods from lands that had once seemed impossibly distant but were now part of the empire. Celene could hear the faint clang of hammers from the Artisan’s Promenade, where the city’s finest craftsmen worked late into the night, creating wonders that would be marveled at across the empire.

And yet, for all its grandeur, Averlon felt intimate to her, as if it were a living, breathing entity that recognised and embraced each of its citizens. Celene had always felt connected to it in a way she couldn’t entirely explain. Averlon was her home, her anchor, and the place where she felt most herself.

Celene often wondered what her own role was in all of this. She wasn’t a ruler like Cecilia, nor was she a scholar or a craftsman. She didn’t possess the raw power of the magisters in the Arcanum or the shrewdness of the merchants in the Gilded Market. And yet, she felt deeply connected to the city, as if it whispered to her in a way it whispered to no one else. Perhaps that was enough. Perhaps her role was simply to see Averlon for what it was not just a city or an empire, but a living, breathing testament to what could be achieved when dreams were pursued without hesitation.

A faint smile crossed her lips as she traced the skyline with her eyes. Averlon was vast and beautiful and endlessly complex, but at its heart, it was still the same city she had grown up in, the same city where she and Cecilia had shared their dreams. And while Cecilia might wear the crown, Celene felt that she too was a part of this grand creation. The city had shaped her as much as she had shaped it.

And yet, Averlon was demanding. Its grandeur inspired, yes, but it also consumed. No one understood this better than the Empress, her sister, Cecilia. She carried the weight of the city with a grace that Celene often envied, each of her decisions a vital thread in the colossal tapestry of Averlon’s ever-growing empire. Celene, by contrast, saw herself as little more than a shadow in her sister’s light free to admire the city’s splendor without the crushing burden of ruling it.

Yet there were moments, like this one, when Celene felt as though Averlon itself was looking back at her. The faint hum of its magic filled the cool air, its towers casting long shadows that stretched like arms to embrace the distant horizon.

But perhaps the greatest of Averlon’s magic was it sense of meritocracy and perhaps that was why the Averlonian Empire thrived: it was built on merit. Cecilia’s vision had transformed not just the city but the very fabric of its society, replacing the stagnant traditions of old with a culture that rewarded talent, innovation, and ambition above all else. In Averlon, one’s birth or station mattered little; it was the strength of one’s ideas, the brilliance of one’s craft, or the boldness of one’s spirit that earned recognition. Scholars who once labored in obscurity now shaped policies that touched the furthest provinces of the empire. Merchants who proved their skill were granted titles that rivaled nobility, while even the humblest of artisans could see their works displayed in the Imperial Palace if they were worthy. It was a system that echoed the city’s own ethos demanding yet boundlessly rewarding and it made Celene proud to see how it inspired people from all walks of life to rise, to strive, and to create.

Of course Celene could not ignore the catalyst of it, the Great Beast of the Elysian Woods. The story is well known by now. No doubt one day it will be legend when no one alive was there when the story unfolded. A group of silly adventurers venturing deep into the forest on some treasure hunt only to release a creature long forgotten.

Then that same ancient beast stumbled upon her imprisoned sister of all people and that started the cascade of events that brought this entire continent to its knees. Her sister tore down the ways of old and built something new based on ways that are even older.

Celene got up from her chair and decided to go for a walk, maybe meet some friends. She needed a break, she didn’t have her sister’s mind but she was not exactly dull. Still six hours of studying did cause her to feel a slight headache.

She walked into her walk-in closet and started to get dressed. She has been in a comfortable night gown for the whole day since she has in her room studying. Celene could have called for her servants but it was late and she really didn’t feel like speaking to anyone now with her tension headache.

Celene gave her red hair and basic brushing, and got dressed in the usual frills of Averlonian nobility. The corset that was too tight, the stifling stockings, the uncomfortable garter belt and the heavy dress that somehow managed to weigh her down while exposing her shoulders and neckline.

It was a beautiful set of clothing that Celene knew, aesthetically it was the perfect blend of tasteful beauty, luxurious spendlour and a hint of sensual femininity. Honestly Celene would just prefer a summer dress but she was a part of the royal house and appearances must be upheld. Her dearest elder sister would not care, and anyone else would not dare even whisper a word of gossip on her. The Hive’s eyes and ears are everywhere and even the stray rats in Necoronas knows how protective the Empress is of her younger sisters.

Celene opened her door to see two of the Royal Guard standing dutifully as always.

“Princess.” one of the guards said, though their faces were hidden inside their golden armour she knew every member of the guard from their voices alone.

“Sir Athelian I did now know you were on duty today.” Celene replied and the other guard laughed revealing himself as Sir Calder of House Stormbane, a noble who decided to take the oath.

“We did not wish to disrupt your studies princess.” Calder replied warmly and Celene let out a small bell like laugh in response.

“Going for a walk my lady?” Calder asked and Celene nodded.

“How does a walk through the city sound?” Celene asked and the two royal guards simply nodded in unison. Celene knew the question was pointless, they would follow where she went. If a threat appeared they would lay down their lives for her but still she wished to treat them as friends not servants.

“Then come along then.” Celene said as she started walking and the armoured foot falls of her guards followed.

Celene knew that her leaving the palace was a security risk to a degree, but her sister allowed it since the entire city was essentially in perfect control. No one would dare even to try to harm her. Celene knew her real guards were not the Royal Guards behind her, yes they were probably the best warriors the Empire had but in the end they were ultimately still human. With all the weaknesses and limitations that humans came with.

Her guards were custom creations and from Cecilia had told her extremely expensive to produce. Her guards were known as Briars and from what Cecilia has said each Briar was worth a small city worth of people. Five Briars could take on most of the Averlonian Army by themselves. It was difficult to imagine, but she saw them firsthand. They practically vibrated with power thanks to their twin ether cores. Cecilia has said they were designed to take on the likes of Archdemons and Archangels which was a mind boggling fact in itself.

So in truth Celene felt perfectly safe, there was nothing that could harm her in this city.

Celene boarded a carriage and headed into town. She wanted to drop by the Local Business and Economics University, she has made some friends there and wanted to enjoy some tea with them. The school was known as the Royal Academy of Commerce and it took students from all across the Empire regardless of status. Celene already got her degree and published a paper or two but in the end it just wasn’t enough. Many of her friends thought she was a genius but in truth she felt that was not the case. Compared to her sister she was severly lacking. Even with all her achievement which would be a point of pride for any normal citizen she was struggling to even grasp the full scope the Empire.

In the back of her mind she wondered what would happen once Cecilia departs this world? People grow old eventually; honestly, Celene did not think anyone could take the reigns. Yes, she didn’t need to do everything herself, but in the end, the Empress must know her Empire inside and out. She must know how each piece works with each other, from the social politics of the Vampires, the logistical challenges of the Zarima Desert, the state of shipping across the seas and even how average citizen feels about their lives. It was an endlessly complex puzzle with constantly shifting pieces.

So, no, she was not a genius, and Celene knew she could not take her sister’s place. They were not on the same playing field when it came to the demands of rule.

Celene disembarked from the carriage and swept into the grand atrium of the Royal Academy of Commerce, her fine cloak catching the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows. The chatter of merchants-in-training and fledgling economists hushed as they recognized her, their bows and curtsies flowing like ripples in a pond.

“Allara, Brythen,” Celene greeted, as her eyes found her friends among the crowd. Both were second-year students at the academy, and though far from nobility, their wit and charm had endeared them to the princess.

Allara, a raven-haired girl with ink-stained fingers, bowed deeply.

“Your Highness, to what do we owe this honor?” Alara asked.

Brythen, a lanky boy with a quick smile, followed suit.

“Not often the Imperial Family visits the drudgery of ledgers and trade laws. Especially considering how you tore through the curriculum” Brythen said with a small chuckle.

Celene laughed lightly, she did enjoy their fun little quips. It was refreshing honestly, in the palace amongst the aristocracy it was always your highness this, your highness that. As a girl at the tender age of seventeen, she needed some respite from the stifling court.

“I would hardly call this drudgery. Your studies fuel the engine of the Empire, do they not? But, if you insist on my reason…” She lowered her voice conspiratorially.

“I have come to steal you both away for tea.” Celene said with a small smirk.

The two exchanged surprised glances, then Allara said, “We would be delighted, though I fear our tutors may not share your enthusiasm.”

“Oh, leave them to me. After all, I am the Empire’s most persuasive negotiator or so my sister the most persuasive negotiator in the world says.” Celene said dryly.

Moments later, they found themselves in one of the Academy’s private parlors, transformed with swift efficiency by Celene’s attendants into a cozy tea room. A small table, draped in Averlonian crimson, bore delicate porcelain teacups and an array of pastries that could make even the strictest economist reconsider their discipline.

“I have always wondered how does the Empress feel about you mingling with us commoners?” Brythen said.

“My sister…trusts me to make my own judgments. Besides, Averlon thrives because we blend the strengths of many. Commerce and culture, nobility and common folk, all must work together if we are to endure.” Celene said as she took a sip of tea.

There was a pause as the weight of her words settled over the room. Allara broke it with a grin. “You’ve been practicing that speech, haven’t you?”

Celene laughed, her cheeks tinged pink. “Perhaps. But it’s true.”

Brythen leaned forward, his expression more serious. “Speaking of endurance, what of this… arrangement between the Great Beast and the Angels? People whisper, you know.”

“I cannot say.” Celene’s smile faded slightly, though her composure remained.

“Cannot or will not?” Allara asked softly.

“I can’t, I just don’t know. I am not privy to the most private and dangerous matters of state.” Celene’s eyes met hers, a shard of uncertainty crossing her gaze. Celene was sheltered from the worst parts of rule. The deal with the Angels must have been dangerous, and that line must be treaded carefully. At the end of the day everyone knew Angels and Ancients do not get along.

“I will say I am surprised.” Allara said.

“My sister holds many secrets, no doubt it is for my own safety. The less I know the smaller of a target I will be.” Celene replied.

“So you would rather be in the dark?” Brythen asked curiously.

“I have heard the rumours of the court, of what had to be done to secure the Empire. Greatness is not a clean affair.” Celene admitted.

“Well in that case, may the future be cleaner from this day forward.” Brythen said and the group let out a small laugh at his optimism.

The conversation shifted for awhile, covering more mundane topics and Celene couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate it. Life was good in the Empire, when her sister first took the throne, she promised food in every belly and wine at every table. It was an almost crazy promise when one took it literally but amazingly it has been achieved. The only tables without wine are the ones where those occupying the seats don’t want to drink.

Her friends here were common born. Just a few years ago, their presence here would have been impossible. Their birth status was too low, so their potential would have been squandered. But now? As her sister said, “No potential will be wasted; if you have the ability, the crown will nurture you.”

But still, Celene’s mind wandered to distant shores and the suffering of most of the world. She didn’t know much, but she did manage to read some of the reports, and she did have a few conversations with the priesthood asking for her support in petitioning additional support in the east.

Celene has brought it up, but every time, she has seen that old dangerous look in Cecilia’s eyes. It was the same look she always had when it came to the affairs of state, especially when said affairs were of the dangerous variety.

It’s not surprising considering the presence of demons but still something more was going on.

“Celene, you look troubled.” Allara said.

“Apologies, but I was thinking about the situation in the east.” Celene replied.

“Oh yes, that is a horrid affair. We were looking into the refugee situation and from what we can tell it could be a big market especially for royal contracts.” Allara replied.

“Well I wasn’t talking about commerce but more on the humanitarian side. Information on the situation there is tight and not much gets through the Royal Intelligence Bureau.” Celene replied with a sigh.

“The Spider’s Bureau is quite effective from what I hear.” Brythen said, referencing Sarana’s rather ominous moniker. She has earned it well, seeing as she was instrumental in the formation of the Empire. In truth, Sarana was probably one of the most influential people in the Empire.

“I was thinking if I should go over there to see for myself…” Celene mused.

Her two friends gave each other an awkward glance before looking up at the pair of Royal Guards standing behind her before internally sighing at their Princess’s naivety.

I have a feeling that’s not gonna fly with the Empress, Princess…