The Sin Eater Chronicles

Queen Meilara and King-Consort Masaru ascended the dais with measured grace. Every eye in the courtyard followed them, the torches and lanterns casting shadows that danced across Meilara's proud features. Masaru stood a half-step behind her, hands clasped at his back. Although the monarchy was matriarchal, his respectful deference did not lessen his presence in the slightest. Indeed, many in Masan admired him for his unwavering support and the quiet strength he provided his queen.

Aiyara, already on the dais, bowed her head as her parents approached. She stepped aside, granting them the center stage. The courtyard seemed to collectively hold its breath. Even the flickering flames on the braziers appeared to still, as though recognizing the gravity of this moment.

Meilara lifted her chin, her voice resonating with that unique blend of steel and warmth that had guided Masan for many years. "People of Masan, friends, honored guests from distant lands. Tonight we celebrate the solstice festival, as we have done for generations—honoring the cycle of the seasons and our harmonious bond with sea and land. Yet this night holds an additional significance, for my daughter, Princess Aiyara, has come of age."

A ripple of applause and murmured approval rolled through the crowd. Aiyara felt a surge of both pride and self-consciousness at the mention of her name. She stood quietly, hands folded, eyes scanning the many faces turned toward the dais. Dignitaries, dwarves, elves, the Church's bishop, the new saint Elysia, foreign lords… all of them waited expectantly.

Meilara let the applause subside, then continued, "In Masan, we hold to the principle that each generation must step forward to shoulder responsibility, forging its own destiny and carrying forward our core values—cooperation, respect, and accountability. Hence, I stand before you with an announcement: in one year's time, on the night of the next winter solstice, Princess Aiyara will be crowned Queen of Masan. She will take my place as ruler."

The courtyard reacted in a wave of startled excitement. Some had suspected, some had heard rumors, but to have it declared so plainly made the future tangible. Applause mixed with exclamations of wonder. Aiyara caught fleeting glimpses of satisfaction in some foreigners' expressions, as though this confirmation validated their reason for traveling here. Others exchanged more thoughtful looks, perhaps strategizing new approaches to dealing with a young queen.

Undeterred, Meilara pressed on. "Why, you might ask, would I abdicate the throne to my daughter so soon? Because a discovery has been made across the sea to the west—a vast continent, uninhabited by any known civilization. For five years, our explorers have journeyed there, mapping coasts and rivers, assessing the land's bounty. They have found a site suitable for colonization. This new territory promises boundless resources and opportunities for those bold enough to claim them."

Masaru stepped forward to speak, his voice lower but equally firm. "We, Meilara and I, have decided to embrace our seafaring roots once more. The next stage in Masan's history will involve expanding across the Western Sea, not by conquest, but by establishing settlements that honor our belief in harmonious living. We shall depart with five hundred ships—laden with craftsmen, laborers, farmers, merchants, anyone who desires to forge a new destiny."

The shock was palpable. While rumors of an expedition had swirled for months, the sheer scale—five hundred ships—was staggering. Gasps and buzzing whispers swept through the courtyard, intensifying when Meilara added, "All are welcome to join, be they lord or commoner, provided they carry the spirit of Masan in their hearts. We welcome other races as well—dwarves, elves, and if they so choose, the dragons. But to sail with us, one must be prepared to work, to build, to honor the new land without pillaging it. This is a sacred vow we ask: that we expand Masan's influence peacefully."

Aiyara's pulse thundered in her ears. Though she already knew the gist of this plan, the official proclamation made it feel overwhelmingly real. If her mother and father took so many of Masan's best sailors and skilled tradespeople, the city would be left somewhat vulnerable—at least initially. That was precisely why the next words from Meilara were so critical.

"And so, for Masan to remain strong," Meilara declared, "the princess must wed. Masan's laws dictate that to ascend fully as queen, she must choose a king-consort to stand beside her, supporting and advising her. Tonight, we invite any man who believes himself worthy—who can bring strength, unity, or prosperity to Masan—to state his intention."

Now the crowd's reaction was a storm. Some foreign lords craned forward, the weight of their ambition swirling like a tangible force. Masani nobles exchanged looks, brimming with pride or concern for their city's future. The dwarves, possibly less interested in the romantic angle, nonetheless watched with curiosity. Others, like the Church officials, pressed their lips thin, evaluating how best to approach this development. Aiyara felt herself stepping into the largest spotlight of her life, an intersection where personal desire, public duty, and the entire future of Masan converged.

Masaru raised a hand to still the clamor. "We will not impose a suitor upon our daughter. That is not our way. Instead, we maintain an ancient maritime tradition: If you believe you can be a worthy consort, if your heart is truly set on the princess and the realm, then step forth and declare your intention plainly. But be warned—Masan is a proud land. We do not suffer fools. If you offer less than earnest devotion, you will not earn the princess's favor."

He turned to Aiyara, giving her a tender yet proud nod. "My daughter, the next step is yours."

Queen Meilara concluded, "We shall hear intentions after a short interval, during which we ask our guests to gather. Anyone who wishes to declare, approach the dais. The princess will speak with each in turn." Then she added a gracious note to the crowd, "For now, enjoy our hospitality, share in our feast, and let the spirit of Masan fill your hearts."

Trumpeters stationed at the courtyard's edges sounded a fanfare, signaling the end of the formal address. Applause erupted—some thunderous, some polite. The queen turned to her daughter, a soft light in her eyes. "Are you prepared for what comes next?" she asked under her breath, just loud enough for Aiyara to hear.

Aiyara swallowed, her throat tight with mixed emotion. "As prepared as I can be," she replied, trying not to let her nerves show. Meilara gave her a brief, reassuring squeeze on her hand. Then the queen and king-consort stepped down from the dais, promptly swarmed by a swirl of envoys, lords, and advisors clamoring with questions.

Standing at the dais's edge, Aiyara observed the courtyard's renewed fervor. People parted into small knots of conversation; the rumor mill spun faster than a weaver's loom. She caught glimpses of dwarves excitedly debating the resources of the new continent, foreign merchants discussing shipping logistics, and local Masani families exchanging worried glances about half the fleet departing. The elven envoy, Lord Ithildris, watched from a respectful distance, an enigmatic expression on his face. Off to one side, Sister Elysia clutched her staff, wide-eyed, as Bishop Thalmar and the priests whispered among themselves.

Kida moved to Aiyara's side. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

"I'm… unsettled, but also strangely resolute," Aiyara murmured. "I know what's at stake, and I want to do right by Masan. At the same time, the thought of men parading forward to claim my hand, as though it's a prize, unsettles me." She paused, feeling a flush of self-awareness. "I should keep an open mind, though. Our tradition is quite fair, is it not?"

Kida nodded. "It is. And you have the final say. They must declare themselves openly, for all to see, and prove their sincerity. That's more than many realms allow." She placed a hand on the hilt of her sword, scanning the crowd for signs of commotion. "Here, we remain vigilant. If anyone tries to be too forceful or disrespectful, I'm sure the guards will intervene."

Aiyara exhaled, tension leaving her in a small rush. "Thank you, Kida. Let's wait for them to come forth. I have a feeling the next hour will be intense."

She was correct. Even as the queen and king-consort were whisked away to deal with more immediate governance matters—rumors of the dwarves wanting to quickly formalize trade deals, the dragons potentially stirring in the courtyard—Aiyara found her vantage on the dais suddenly quite exposed. A hush gradually fell around her as the first prospective suitor stepped forward, prepared to stake his claim before the entire assembly of Masan and foreign dignitaries.

Inwardly, a flicker of pride lit her mind. This is my heritage, she thought. This is Masan, where a fisherman can stand beside a noble in pursuit of the queen's hand. Let them all speak, and let my choice ring with truth. The spark in her belly quivered, fueling her confidence like a quiet flame.