It was worse than Tythel had feared.
The newsheets were products of Alohym technology, and Tythel had never paid them much mind. She hadn’t been in a town long enough to really bother perusing one. She now wished she had paid more attention.
THE DRAGON CON – THE LIES OF THE ALLEGED DRAGON PRINCESS
In a statement released by the Crawling Citadel, it has been revealed that Tythel, the woman who claimed to be the last heir of the nobles that we were so kindly liberated from the Alohym, is not only attempted to resurrect an archaic institution that so long oppressed our people, is a fraud. Analysis of her blood conducted while she was the captive of the Alohym – before her escape and subsequent murder of over three dozen brave soldiers – has been compared to the bones of the former King and Queen. Through study of the blood-lexicon that makes up all life, the Alohym have determined that Tythel’s bloodline shares no markers in common with the royal family.
It should come as no surprise about her lies. After her brutal murder of Great Rephylon, she…
Tythel stopped reading there, and handed over the sheet to Eupheme wordlessly. Eupheme’s eyes skimmed over. “What a pack of nonsense. There were a half dozen guards there, at most, and I hardly call what happened a murder. I’m pretty sure we didn’t kill all of them, anyway. It’s more Alohym propaganda, and… and why are you looking like that?”
Tythel had gone ashen, and her nictitating membranes were flashing. “‘Everything will collapse. Your people will call you a monster, a liar, a child, they will turn’…I’m guessing it was supposed to be against you, but I tore out his throat before he could finish.”
“What?” Eupeheme asked.
“Rephylon. The last thing ever said. I figured the monster was because I am a dragon, and child because of my age, but liar…I just assumed he was hurtling any insult he could think of at me. But now…he knew. He knew when we fought. The Alohym were just sitting on it until…”
“Tythel…are you believing this?” Eupheme asked.
“I…I don’t know. That medallion I showed Lathariel that proved to her I was the heir? Karjon said it was from my parents, but what if it wasn’t? He had dozens of treasures in his horde, it could have come from there. That was…that was the only proof I had.”
“Would you father lie to you like that?”
Tythel’s nictitating membranes tried to wipe away tears that still wouldn’t come. “I don’t…I don’t know. I don’t think so. But…maybe he was lied to? Or maybe he had a plan to…to use me to flush out the real heir? I don’t know.” Tythel shook her head, more to clear the dark thoughts than in any kind of negation. “But people are believing it,” she said. “That’s…that’s the real problem. Even if we don’t, it’s created a doubt to my legitimacy, and the only way to prove it one way or another requires the Alohym blood reading technology and the bones of the Royal family. Of…of my parents.”
Eupheme grimaced. “So it’s impossible to prove?”
Tythel nodded slowly, still staring at the paper. The words ran in her vision.
Eupheme placed a hand carefully on Tythel’s shoulder. “So…what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to take a deep breath,” Tythel said, doing exactly that. “You know my father taught me history, right?”
“I might have picked up subtle hints in that regard,” Eupheme said, her voice as dry as salt.
“Do you know what makes nobles nobility?”
Eupheme hesitated. “They are blessed by the Light, and guarded by Shadow?”
“Of course,” Tythel said. “At least, that’s what they say. Blessed by Light, Guarded by Shadow. By people like you. But I mean originally. How the first noble houses came to be, how they rose, how they secured their places. What made them different from everyone else?”
Eupheme shook her head.
“When the Cardomethi empire fell, there was almost no order on the continent. Various bands of warlords rose up from the ashes of the empire’s collapse. Some claimed to be headed by the lost heir of the Emperess. Some claimed to be blessed by the Light. Some claimed to be godlings. Some even were godlings. Some claimed to trace their lineage back to the ancient Alohym.” Tythel sniffed and wiped her eyes. It helped clear away the cloud that was growing on her vision. “At the end, when the dust had settled, everyone who was able to carve out territory had one thing in common. Do you know what it was?”
“They were all blessed by the Light?” Eupheme guessed.
“No. One could argue they were all favored by the Light – they certainly did – but only two of those warlords was able to claim they were descended from people who had made that claim at the start. One of them became the Royal family. That’s why they said they were favored by the Light. But before they unified the country under their rule through marriage and conquest, all those warlords called themselves nobility, even those that never claimed a blessing from the Light. No, the one thing they shared in common was they were all better at warfare then their opponents. That seems to be what distinguishes nobility from the common person.”
Eupheme looked hesitant. “I’m not sure…what are you saying?”
“I’m saying it doesn’t matter if my blood is royal.” Tythel felt her jaw clench in determination. “I’m saying if I win, everyone will say my blood was royal. That the counter claim was another Alohym lie. And if I lose, everyone will say the Alohym told the truth. That I was never royal. There are so many lies flowing from Alohym mandibles, it won’t matter what is said anymore – only what happens.”
“You’d start your reign off with a lie?” Eupheme said. “If you truly believe it’s not royal blood…”
“I’ve got plans for that. For the reign, I mean. I think it’s important that I have exactly much power once it’s time for me to reign as I do in the resistance – because I’d be about as good as leading a nation as I have been at fighting a war. Seeing as the two missions I’ve been involved in have resulted in the capture of the entire unit and then the permanent incapacitation of one member of a three person team, that tells you exactly how good I think I’d be at leading a nation. But my point is…my point is, there’s no way to prove the lie one way or another right now. So I’m going to keep acting like I have a claim, and history will decide if I did. Trace any royal family back long enough, and what you’ll find is some bastard who was very good at killing people. If what the world needs is for me to be that bastard, I’ll be that bastard. And if history damns me for it, then history damns me.”
“Why do you want it?” Eupheme asked. “If you believe you might not be of royal blood, why on earth would you put yourself in that danger? You could renounce your claim and pursue your vengeance in peace. Well, relative peace. The Alohym wouldn’t need to kill you specifically anymore – if you renounce your claim, you’d just be another soldier.”
Tythel shrugged. “Someone has to stand up to the Alohym and take the arcfire. As long as I’m a target, the Alohym will focus on me and not the people actually leading the rebellion. I can do that. Better someone with dragonscale than a normal human. Besides, people have started rallying around the idea of me. Not me the person. I think the resistance would shatter at that. But the idea had power. I’ll let the Resistance use that idea. If it puts me in danger…well, a martyr can be a better thing to rally around than a person. Light knows it’ll stop me from doing something stupid and breaking that idea to peices.”
Eupheme was looking at her carefully.
“I know your oath is to the royal family. I know this puts that in question.”
“It does,” Eupheme said, her voice small. “But…in all the time I’ve known you, this might be the first time you’ve actually sounded like a royal. Like a royal should be. You’re my friend, and I don’t care what Alohym science proves. You are my princess. And that’s enough.”
Tythel smiled at her, hoping it looked at least somewhat natural, and Eupheme returned the expression.
“So,” Eupheme said. “What now?”
“Now?” Tythel said, squaring her jaw. “Now I’m going to get on that Light-Forsaken horse. Come on and make sure the beast doesn’t kill me in the process.”