Chapter 34. The List of High Noble Houses
"Ah ha! Here it is!" She beamed with a cold smile, pulling her chalice to her lips and licking a little of the blood wine off of her lips. Raven Blood Wine really was a delicacy.
The mist on top of the mountain had grown this evening, not curling against the bottom of her closed windows. Outside, it enveloped against the mid-spires, almost completely veiling the structure, but not quite. The high spires of the obsidian palace were the only place you could still see the stars. Wind tonight was a delicate breeze, as though some great whispers of lost secrets were denied entry into the castle, atop the tallest of the three mountains.
Queen Nox sat in the chair at her desk. Her impeccable wings, folded closed, still revealed their sheer size, her talons, black tipped almond nails, between sips, she began tapping a measured rhythm against the arm of her ornate chair as she read the names and considered each family.
The list lay before her, parchment pale scroll with stark black writing by one of their scribes, against the dark marble desk — the names, titles and crests all jumped out as she weighed each; Potential allies, potential threats, and the potential for both in mates and matrimony, as husbands... for her daughters.
Her eyes, shared with Seraphina, with irises as black as midnight glass, slid to the first name.
"House Dreylorn.
"Their sigil, a crimson claw jumped out of the page. More than anyone, Queen Nox knew that the Dreylorn's would be pushing a match with one of her daughters and their only son, Drystan Dreylorn — feathers, hair, and talons were as dark as his convictions, eyes the color of blood... under moonlight, they could look black, she supposed. The queen considered his looks, for a Raven, he was dashingly handsome. Then after a brief moment of consideration of the young noble, whose name she did not need to read to know, that's who House Dreylorn would be sending...
'A zealot, from a house of zealots, perhaps... yes. Even if they are indeed zealots can be easy to steer. Although only if one knoww where to place the knife to ensure it does not end up at their very own neck.' The Queen wasn't sure if either daughter was politically cunning enough to handle such a political marriage. They were bloodline purists. Knowing them and how they worked, the Queen knew they would back Seraphina as an example of pristine harpy bloodline. Keeping the Dreylorn's in check would become difficult over time, once they found a way to get their talons in to any heir's of hers minds... and the power that came with the throne. Hatred for anything other than Ravens ran deeper than the marrow in that family's bones. Their son would be no different, and the Queen knew that best. They, his family, would be guaranteed to attend, not for the music nor the wine, but for political face... as much as to measure which of her daughters could bear their banner best... most likely into another harpy civil war. Nox's mouth curved with distaste for the family and their lack of fineness — barely ever could she show her thoughts on her face, and right now, she was alone in her quarters considering, and it was clear on her face — at the lack of palpable interest in the thought of either daughter getting involved with that family. '
'A blunt blade still cuts if the hand is steady, and their hands were always steady. The question is, who is on the other side of that blade of theirs? Neither of my daughters. Not with Drystan.' The queen concluded. Moving on from the Dreylorn's to the next family on the guest list.
"House Blackmere."
The ink of the name shimmered faintly in the flickering grey torchlight that characterized raven lighting. The ink seemed slick as she considered the name... the house and that single obsidian wing sigil of theirs. It was as though the man himself had greased it with gold. Lord Veyren Blackmere: merchant lord, a silk-tongued liar, with his black-and-gold plumage as ostentatious as his trade airships, most piloted by those whose wings had been ripped off as punishment. He capitalised on those who wished to feel the experience of flying again, putting them to work. It would be his son's Keal Blackmere. Their families' coffers ran deeper than a gold or black steel mine, and they owned many of both. They had enough to fund several wars but were a lazy family who focused on greed, gain, and wealth; the golden streaks in their plumage were gaudy for Ravens, but... Keal and the Blackmere's. That network spanned the globe and their networth, combined with the power of royalty, could strangle or strengthen a kingdom - the Raven Kingdom. Depending entirely on how that fortune was used. Lord Veyren fancied himself too clever to be ruled regularly, although his son was not as immediately audacious, but he still was developing that way. Encouraged by his fool of a father. Nox had seen many a man like Veyren — they were clever, always clever until the floor gave way beneath them.
She decided the Blackmere's would be essential allies but not the most high-quality match for strength in character - even for a powerful noble family. Although they brought many benefits, the Raven Royal Family also owned their own share of black steel mines and gold mines.
"They're lower on the likely candidates list, but there must be better suitors with stronger conviction..." There was one looming fact that followed the Queens query with considerable weight; whoever was betrothed to Seraphina would be the future King of the Raven Kingdom. With that came power, responsibility, and requirements that went beyond those of a flashy businessman. No matter how many deals someone could make. The kingdom was not a business and could not be run like one. "Although I must explain to Seraphina how, as a family, they will be essential allies... perhaps a future betrothal in distant lines?"
She looked at the next family on the list and her eyes lit up a little with hope.
"House Velwraithe."
Here, her eyes even dared to smile, as her mind worked and pressed a little harder. One, the Commander of the Royal and Noble Guard, Lord Sylen, and the other, her Commander in chief, Lord Everen. Sadly, Lord Sylen's mate was lost in the last Harpy war, and they had never had the luxury of having a clutch. Everen, on the other hand... he and his mate Orla had two clutches, the first was. Vexanna Velwraithe, their eldest and only daugher, and Vorian Velwraithe, their eldest son, the younger of the first twins. Both had the characteristic Black wings, hair, wings, and talons and were extraordinarily good-looking for ravens. 'Vorian would be an ideal match for Seraphina, ' The queen mused, sipping a little more of her wine. Both were slightly older at 20, than Seraphina and Sephora who had only recently turned 18. It was customary for ravens of the same clutch to be named with the same letter.
At this moment, Queen Nox cursed that she never had a son to marry to Vexanna was devastating in looks and showed incredible ability in combat. Vexanna and Seraphina were friends as they grew and became regular sparring partners. The kind of blood to add to the line, which she wanted to strengthen the family.
Admittedly, Vorian was just as handsome, but both Seraphina and Vexanna regularly outdid him in combat training. Their house had impeccable character, loyalty to the crown, and to Lady Nox. Currently, they were a family, trustworthy allies and friends of the crown. Then there was their younger brother Zyreth Velwraithe at 16. Not old enough to marry off yet, but old enough should a betrothal arrangement to be made. He was an alright-looking harpy. He was handsome, but he was a higher noble, who had unfortunate very dark green colouring which stood out against the more dominant black if you looked close enough. It spread subtly to the very tips of his feathers, talons, and wings, with dark green eyes, similar to Sylen's, who was now far darker, but it put the queen off - seemed like from the lower Noble House Branchtwist from a union a few generations ago, still lingered.
With that in mind, she moved on.
"House Nightvale."
The silver eye sigil of the Nightvales gleamed beside the family's name. The nobility that, wore their beauty like armor, never realising how fragile it made them appear. Their matriarch, Lady Seralie, believed her old lineage rivaled that of the Raven royal line. Queen Nox found such audacious and bold vanity charming — like a child boasting she could fly higher than the sun. Seralie's son Thomas and Nightveil heir was all polished talons and pristine feathers. They would be primed and preened to be presentable by Lady Seralie's standards, for whichever of Queen Nox's daughters may be agreed to. "Pretty things..." The queen mused to herself, opening the scroll further, knowing well that he would be beaten in combat easily by both her daughters. Seralie's boy was indeed pretty, "...but pretty things are easy to break."
Lady Seralie's daughter, Theresa Nightveil, was not much better. There had been a rumour that Kael Blackmere had already been betrothed to Theresa Nightvale, and by Lady Seralie's methods and nature, it wouldn't surprise Queen Nox for this to be true.
Vanity like that could come with an ego, and an ego based on vanity could have a cost of naivety and blindness through pandering flattery.
The night was no longer young and the queen began to yawn.
"House Ashwing."
"Ah, the Ashwing's." Assassins and scholarly prophets in silk, with voices like honey and hearts like sharpened obsidian. For a high-ranking noble family, they traded in blood, social and societal secrets the way others traded in grain, and their smiles hid poisons better than any vial.
Nox respected them for it. She would sit them close enough to smell the venom on their breath. It wasn't the Ashwing's fault that they had an odd and unpleasant scent to them. This family did have an interesting skill; however, they had learned how to create poisons from their own bodies. It was supposed to be a skill all raven harpies had. It was a family secret that if the Queen wanted, she would need to trade a daughter for.
The Queen leaned back, eyes tracing the names again. No longer rolling the scroll to see who else had accepted the invitations. Missing the next name on the list, the "Thornewynd's" a mid level noble family that didn't have as much power but had a far older lineage, as they tended to stick to ancient history and scholarly work. She had forgotten in her tipsy haze, that they had a son who was an old friend of Seraphina's.
With only the highest five noble families reviewed, for the Queen that had been enough; there was already much to consider. Each was a potential choice fo rher to make. Each was a piece on the board to be moved, and each with its place and uses. At the same time, each is trying to advance to a position of more power for themselves.
At the ball, tomorrow evening, traditional Raven music would play, the young tenders for political matches would dance and mingle, almost all of them friends in youth. Now turned love rivals. They would act coy if flirting, to avert the queen's wrath if they were seen to be too forward and inappropriately so, and this was where the real game for Lady Nox would begin — quiet as a whisper, sharp as a talon's point, and avoidance of any hint of a scandal.
With her two daughters, it was already decided that one would be married to a Raven Noble, Seraphina of course, and the other, mated for Harpy relations - the imperfect Sephora would have that fate.
For a decision or two, that she, the Queen, would soon have to make.