On the banks of the mighty river Rubo, near the shore of the great Melancthon Sea, lies the ancient city of Dardano, the capital of the Dardanos Empire. Once just the city-state of Dardano, Doukar the Great took the wealth of gold and tin the city possessed, and he and his heirs conquered all that lay before them. Doukar consumed thirty nations and founded the greatest empire in the world. Dardanos now stretches from frozen forests in the north to burning deserts in the south, from lofty mountains in the east to the boundless ocean in the west.

For centuries the empire has ruled supreme, but old enemies, the Lorgorin barbarians in the North, are restless, and the new power of the southern Circiniad kingdoms is rising in the south. It is the 517 year of the empire's existence, and the 46th ruler of the empire, called the “Doukar” in honor of the Empire's founder, is dead. This Doukar, Holophian, was considered a great ruler, a capable military commander, and a harsh but fair administrator. All who did not know him personally thought of him as a great man. Few had much hope for the imminent reign of his eldest child, Fornulus; not least his siblings, some of whom have other ideas about who should rule now.

The king of the world was dead. The Great Bell in the Tower of Honoria rang out, which it did only for the beginning and end of a Doukar’s reign. Holophian, the 46th Doukar, supreme ruler of the Dardano Empire, was dead.

The bell could clearly be heard from the grand chamber in which Fourth Prince Nikolonium and the rest of Holophian’s surviving children sat. They had been waiting for it all day. For once, no others were with them, not children, spouses, not even servants. It was tradition that only the royal children would gather here at this time, to mourn the passing of their parent, although among them and all their finery there was not one who mourned their father’s passing.

Nikolonium was ashamed to admit to himself that he was glad when the bell rang. He was not sure whether that was because of what it signified, or simply because he’d been stuck in a room all day with his half-siblings.

“Father’s dead,” Fornulus, the First Prince and heir, said, as if they didn’t know what the bell meant. First Princess Theodorian nodded from behind him, saying nothing. “I guess that means I’ll be the next Doukar,” he continued.

“Truly a lamentable day for the empire,” said Second Prince Cordelian, with a pious expression on his face. Fornulus didn’t pick up on his double-meaning.

“We’re going to be busy over the next few days.” Meronion, the Second Princess, was all business. She had been pacing behind the couch Nikolonium was sitting on for a while, her ceremonial gilt armor clinking as she went. It had gotten irritating quite some time ago.

“Yeah,” Third Prince Euphastolon chimed in, lounging on another couch, “we’ve got to arrange a celebration.”

“Brother, that’s horrible! Be nice today at least.” Third Princess Ophelion said. Meronion scowled at him too, but he waved off their complaints.

Nikolonium bowed his head and held his gloved hands together as he said a short prayer for his dead father. He had not loved the man any more than his siblings had. Holophian had made that impossible, always berating and belittling him. Still, his soul, like all others, from the highest to the lowest, deserved peace.

He glanced at Ophelion, who was sitting some distance away from him, but he couldn’t catch her eye. She was pouring herself a cup of tea that Helastus had given her. He looked over at the youngest siblings, Fifth Prince Pelagius and Fourth Princess Helastus, who were near her. Now that the sun had gone down the chamber was steeped in gloom, and only the two of them, and Theodorian, were sitting close enough to a lit tripod to be seen clearly. He couldn’t tell what they were thinking, but Pelagius appeared to be splitting his attention between him and Cordelian.

“Are you eating?” Meronion asked Euphastolon, who had taken out an apple.

“Ophelion’s drinking. I’m hungry, we’ve been here all day and the sun went down ages ago.” He started peeling it with a knife. “The old bastard was inconsiderate to the end.”

Meronion began to tell him to show more respect, but her angry gesticulating knocked a ceremonial axe off the wall. The loud clatter of the bronze on the floor made Theodorian jump. Euphastolon laughed as Meronion struggled to put it back.

Cordelian tapped a stylus against his cheek, thinking. “Meronion is right. It will be a busy time for all of us. I’ll have a lot of work to do to support Fornulus’s succession.”

“I know you won’t let me down Cord,” Fornulus said as he reached for a wine bottle, apparently emboldened by his other siblings breaking their fast.

“You can trust me to always have your best interests at heart, brother,” Cordelian smiled.

Fornulus was the only one in the room who believed him. They all knew Cordelian would be counting down the days until he could prize the crowns out of Fornulus’s hands. Nikolonium was sure Cordelian would not care if he had to kill Fornulus to do it.

He was going to be busy keeping the empire from sliding into Cordelian’s grasp.