The Vanished Crown
Laniakea blinked. She had heard the words plainly enough, yet their meaning refused to take hold.
The others seemed no better off. For a moment, silence settled over the waiting room.
"What did you just say?"
She had meant to sound as calm as she could manage, but even to her own ears her voice shook pitifully.
She prayed the attendant would at once admit it had been a foolish joke and beg her pardon. If he did, she would laugh and let it pass.
But contrary to that hope, the man dropped to his knees where he stood and choked back a sob.
"It—it was there until just a moment ago. Everyone coming and going has been people we've always had in our charge, and…"
Before he could finish, Laniakea swept past him toward the room where the crown was kept. The ladies-in-waiting, their faces drained of color, hurried after her.
The moment she stepped into the adjoining chamber, the wooden boxes on the table came into view.
Until she had entered the waiting room, the crown had lain inside one of them, glittering.
Now the box before her was empty. To be precise, only one of them was.
The crown Hyperion was meant to wear today was nowhere to be seen.
"Ah…"
The sigh left her, and her body swayed.
"Your Majesty!"
Startled, Hilde and Chelsia rushed to catch her, but Laniakea waved them off. In a trembling voice, she asked,
"Since when has it been missing?"
"Wh-when I stepped out to see how far Your Majesty's preparations had come, it was definitely still there."
From that, Laniakea roughly measured the time. It had still been here some twenty minutes ago.
"And who has come and gone since then?"
"Anyone in this room now could have done it."
At that answer, Laniakea looked at the people who had come running in.
Every one of them had gone deathly pale and was shaking.
The ladies-in-waiting were frightened enough, but the maids were worse—some had even sunk to the floor, sobbing.
"Why was no one standing watch beside it!"
Chelsia rounded on the attendants and maids.
"I-it isn't that no one was here. There was at least one person at all times, but…"
The attendant's voice dwindled.
The more he spoke, the more it amounted to saying the culprit was among them. The maids understood at once and dropped to their knees before Laniakea.
"It wasn't me! It wasn't me, Your Majesty!"
"Wh-who would dare steal His Majesty the Emperor's crown!"
They wailed now, insisting upon their innocence.
"All of you, be quiet!"
Laniakea flung out a hand and raised her voice at them. Then, as calmly as she could, she took stock of the room.
The other jewels had been left untouched. Only the crown was gone. If theft had been the aim, a smaller treasure would have been far easier to carry off.
Moreover, magic had been laid upon the crown. Even if someone stole it, they could not take it beyond the palace—and given time, it would return of its own accord to the box in which it was kept.
If money had been the goal, they would have gone after the others.
There were jewels newly prepared for this coronation as well.
Unguarded by magic, and far easier to steal. Yet they lay meekly upon their soft cloth, as if nothing at all had happened.
Laniakea's gaze returned to the empty wooden box.
Among so many treasures, the meaning of the crown alone vanishing was plain.
The culprit meant to ruin today's coronation.
A coronation without a crown. Could such a thing even be called a coronation?
"Your Majesty, we will search every inch of this place even now. The culprit must still be inside…"
One of the ladies-in-waiting glared at the kneeling attendants and maids as she spoke. But Laniakea shook her head and stopped her.
"No. It would be pointless."
She went to the open window. Beyond it lay the deep moat, and the garden beside it.
Even if the crown had been thrown into the water, it was impossible for anyone to dive that deep, wide moat and find it in the time they had. And it would be soaked and fouled besides—an ugly thing.
Or if someone waiting below had caught it and carried it elsewhere, then it would be harder still to find.
Laniakea turned toward the great pendulum clock.
Little time remained before the coronation proper. Even if she asked them to wait a little longer, they could hold for an hour at most.
She could not delay the rite beyond that. The assembly would begin to murmur, and word of the stolen crown would only spread all the faster.
With her hand braced on the windowsill, Laniakea considered who might have done this.
In truth, she did not need to think long. There was only one person capable of such a thing.
The Empress Dowager.
She had shut herself up in her own residence and refused to come out—yet she had attended today's coronation. Was this the reason?
The Dowager would have bought one of them. Perhaps more than one. Whoever she had turned would have thought it an exceedingly simple task.
Because of the magic on the crown, no one had paid its security much mind.
In the jewel room itself, the attendants had circulated only on the side where the easier things to steal were kept. The crown had been set apart, and scarcely watched at all.
Who, after all, would imagine that on a day like this someone would steal a crown bound by magic?
She knew exactly how these things are ordinarily kept. It would have been easy to put someone up to it.
Laniakea imagined what would follow if the crown was not found.
There would be an uproar, of course. An emperor who had failed to hold a proper coronation.
The crown would return if they waited, and they could hold the ceremony again then—but every sort of gossip would cling to him afterward.
She wants to ruin him completely, from the very start.
Laniakea's throat tightened. It was not despair at not knowing what to do. It was rage at the Empress Dowager, who would go this far to torment Hyperion.
She remembered the countless scars left upon his body.
Cuts. Stabs. Wounds that looked as though they had been ground into him.
While the Dowager's sons lived in luxury and dissipation within the Imperial Palace, Hyperion had guarded the border with his life laid bare.
He could have lived as the other princes did. Not in splendor, perhaps, but at least in safety.
And the one who had driven him into mortal danger all the same was the Empress Dowager. Having taken everything from him, she now carried on as though she were the one who had been robbed.
No. She hated, with a visceral loathing, the thought of events turning out as the Dowager wished.
Above all, she wanted Hyperion to enjoy what was his—wholly, and without stain.
I have to set this right, somehow.
The crown had been in her keeping. Its loss was her responsibility as well.
She thought of Hyperion. He, more than anyone, knew that her place was only temporary.
He could have looked solely to an heir, left an empress's duties to others, and filled his surroundings all the more with his own people.
Even so, he had placed every authority in Laniakea's hands, and he had never stinted his support or his faith in her.
She wanted to answer that trust.
What am I supposed to do?
How could she mend this and see his coronation safely through?
Laniakea looked around her. Those still weeping and protesting their innocence; behind them, the ladies-in-waiting, flustered and at a loss.
They were all meant to proceed to the coronation hall soon, and every one of them had been beautifully adorned with flowers and ornaments.
Her gaze, resting on them and on the finely decorated waiting room, lifted to the ceiling.
As it happened, the ceiling bore a painting of the myth of the four seasons.
The instant her eyes found the scene of the goddess of spring descending to the earth, Laniakea turned and addressed them all.
"All of you—from this moment, move quickly, and do exactly as I say."
She had made up her mind. No matter what happened, today she would set a crown upon his head.