Page 14 of Night’s Fall (The Four Realms #1)

Something

S hocker: Royal protocol was actually kind of interesting.

I learned this as I sat alone in a room (alone save Madam Garwah ) at the middle of five desks arranged in front of a step, up on which a female who appeared a well-cared-for age of two hundred and seventy-five paced the “stage” slamming her intricately carved cane down with every other step so hard, it seemed she used it to punctuate the importance of her words.

A lot of people claimed they had troll blood, but I’d never seen anyone who actually looked like a troll.

Including Madam Garwah .

No, she was a shifter. I couldn’t get a lock on her beast, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was a snake.

So far in our session, I’d learned there were different curtsies.

During formal occasions, a very deep one for the king and queen, with your arm thrown out to the side and your head bowed (when she made me practice (over and over) I found the arm thing was good, because it helped you balance).

A less deep, but still deep one (no arm), for the princes and princess, and during less formal occasions, the same for the king and queen.

But for everyone else, you could just sort of… bob .

You had to wait for the king or queen to tell you to rise. But all the rest, you just did your thing and got straight again.

I’d also learned the manners of address.

His (or her) Royal Majesty for the king and queen. Your majesty would suffice.

His (or her) Royal Highness for the princes and princess. Your highness would suffice.

Your grace, for dukes, duchesses, marquesses and marchionesses.

My lord or lady for anyone else, except knights and dames. They were sir or dame.

“But those last are old school,” Madam Garwah had barked, but then, she barked everything.

Her manner of address had been alarming at first, until I realized that was simply how she talked.

“ If there’s a count or baron who expects you to refer to him as ‘milord,’ rest assured, he’s a pompous poppycock.

Simply refer this matter to the prince, and he’ll see to putting the male in his place straightaway. ”

I was kind of hoping some pompous poppycock made me call him “milord” just so I could see how Aleksei handled it.

We’d moved on to how you entered a room or sat at a table (entering a room: in order of succession, but she informed me I didn’t really need to worry about this, for I’d be on Aleksei’s arm; sitting a table: once the king, queen and True Heir were seated, it was free for all).

You didn’t eat or drink until the king imbibed (or the queen if the king wasn’t around). And you were finished when they were if you were taking a meal with them (“ But never you mind, both King Fillion and Queen Calisa have made an art of lingering over meals so their guests can get their fill.”)

It was all ridiculous, of course, but still fascinating.

“So, it’s like a constant reminder that you’re in the presence of your leader,” I stated.

“ Something , way back when, they had to do, because if someone questioned the leader, things got real, as in assassination attempts, coups and wars breaking out. All of this was an effort to control even the subconscious, so in every way, from entering a room to how you addressed them to when you had to stop eating, you knew who the boss was.”

Madam Garwah stopped pacing and banging her cane and whirled toward me.

Once she did, her piercing eyes took their time examining me, and I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like she was a good deal more interested than she had been for the last forty-five minutes.

“Precisely,” she decreed.

“And now it serves what purpose?” I queried.

She squinted her eyes. “ I beg your pardon?”

I tossed up a hand. “ Well , we vote for our representatives at Central . And in our parishes. Every realm has a monarchy, but we’re all democracies. The vast majority of people will never meet a royal, or even an aristocrat.”

She rocked back, situated her cane dead center in front of her and placed both hands one on top of the other on the carved dragon head at the pinnacle. “ Ah , the world is more civilized, so we no longer need to adhere to the civilities.”

“Is it a civility to expect someone to bow to you?”

“Is it not true that Night’s Fall and Sky’s Edge were locked in brutal war for four centuries?” she retorted. “ And even during the period of Great Peace , those of the Edge picked at our borders constantly, to the point they eventually broke that Great Peace .”

“Our last war ended in 1932,” I replied. “ Nearly two hundred years ago.”

“And do you not think the True Heir annihilating their king and much of his castle to end that constant conflict is not something that still burrs under the skin of those that live in the Edge ?”

Was she for real?

“Are you saying you think there’s a possibility that some lunatic has designs on harming the Royal Family because those of the Edge are still smarting after we ultimately spanked their behinds because they reneged on an agreement after they used our dragons to conquer the trolls who had all but vanquished them nearly eight hundred years ago? ”

“I’m saying they don’t believe they reneged on anything at all, hence six hundred years of war and skirmishes between our realms,” she shot back.

“And curtsying keeps that in check?”

“Regardless of our modern weaponry, the dragons would fly if anything happened to King Fillion .”

They absolutely would.

“And again, curtsying keeps that in check?”

“It is not the male,” she barked more sharply this time.

“ It is the throne . It is the history. It is the idea. It’s the blood, shed and drawn.

It is the males and females who shaped this realm, their bravery, their sacrifice, their ambition, their foibles, their failures, their corrections.

A weaker throne might mean what we know as Night’s Fall would not even exist. We’ve had good rulers, and bad.

It is not one male, or female, who made us what we are.

It is all of them, their actions, their decisions, their loyalty.

And as a collection, that is the throne.

That is what you curtsy to. And that show of respect is how those of the Edge know the citizens of the Fall are loyal. ”

“Which makes others hesitate to pull anything, because we’d all go batcrap crazy if they did.”

“Indeed,” she sniffed. “ Our king, our queen, our True Heir , all of them are the personification of the totality of our realm. As such, they are elevated as representations of Night’s Fall .

No . They are Night’s Fall . So , they are untouchable.

As such, if someone would wish to enrage the entirety of a nation, draw them into conflict, inflict the gravest insult, who would they select to bring low?

A citizen would anger us, but taking aim at the Fall would be setting your sights on the throne . ”

Oh yeah.

This protocol stuff was totally interesting.

It was also super scary, because obviously, in the grand scheme of the general crazies that roamed around and foreign policy’s tendency to get iffy, you understand in a vague way that there were threats to the Royal Family .

But now that I knew one personally, and was coming to like him, I wasn’t a big fan of this at all.

Suddenly, her ramrod-straight back went ramrod straighter, doing this before I heard most of her bones crackling as she dropped into a curtsy.

I got up from my desk, turned, and saw Aleksei leaning on the open doorjamb.

Gods, he sure was hot standing in that doorjamb. He looked like he could hold up the entire building.

Nevertheless, I sighed and dropped into a curtsy too.

When I rose, I noted his eyes dancing and one side of his lips was hitched up as he strolled into the room.

“As ever, an honor, your highness,” Madam Garwah said (and yes, it was still a bark, a quieter one, but one nonetheless).

“Is my female causing you problems with her disrespect for tradition?” he asked, the smooth of his voice rippling with amusement as he approached the stage.

“Not at all, Prince Aleksei ,” she responded, and she sounded like it wasn’t a lie.

He offered his hand.

She put hers in his.

He squeezed it and dropped his head in a modified bow.

She preened.

Again, he could be sweet and cute.

He let her go and came to me.

And then he was not cute, instead he was just… everything .

His eyes were now night blue.

Seriously, that was so amazing .

He offered his hand.

I put mine in it.

He didn’t take his eyes off me as he raised it to his lips and brushed them against my knuckles.

I wobbled on my heels and bit my lip.

“Good evening, Laura ,” he murmured, causing another wobble.

“Hey,” I choked out.

That earned me his eyes dancing again, another lip hitch, then he moved to my side and curled my fingers in the crook of his arm.

Annnnnd…

Yup!

I was right. Touching the sumptuous material of his suit was life-altering.

“I know I’m stealing her early, but we have a busy night,” he said to Madam Garwah .

“And I have a brandy and book to get to,” she replied, flapping a bony-fingered, swollen-jointed hand at us. “ Shoo , young people.” Her eyes focused on me. “ Tomorrow night, Laura . Five thirty sharp.”

“See you then, Madam Garwah .”

At this point, I didn’t collect my bag and coat. Ever the gentlemale ( I was beginning to see the lure of all this etiquette), Aleksei did.

He handed me the first and helped me on with the latter.

After I tied the belt, he put my hand in his elbow again and we headed out to the lift.

But I stutter-stepped in the hall when I saw the tall, built, bald demon standing outside the lift, his gaze on us.

And it was glowing red.

“That’s Set ,” Aleksei told me when he felt me balk. “ One of my bodyguards. He remains always at the ready when he’s on duty.”

That explained the glowing eyes.

And this made sense, considering a demon’s speed and senses were significantly heightened when they were, as Aleksei put it, “at the ready.”