those demanding royal heads roll, Tylie intends to remain in the Triosan Empire until the dust settles.”
Talyn didn’t like the sound of that, or what it would mean for his mother. Although, it might be for the best to get her out of the empire until this ended. “Are you being recalled?”
She nodded. “Cairie’s hysterical about everything. Tylie’s hoping I can calm her down before they sedate her into a coma. I need to leave immediately.”
Saren narrowed his gaze. “What she’s planning to do about her mother?”
“Knowing Tylie, she’ll try to stay out of it and keep her sister safe. You have to remember that all their siblings murdered each other, and their children. The only one who ever protected Tylie and risked her own life to do it was Cairie. Now, Tylie is done with the senseless violence. All she wants is an Andaria where she and Cairie can live sanely and in peace.”
Galene sighed heavily as she slid her link into her pocket. “You wanted the monarchy destroyed, and I can understand your disgust. But let me ask you this, aseseran. Who will run this empire when the Anatoles are gone? Have you any idea of the bloody civil war all of you are about to ignite between the high-Vest families? Do you really think the other ten noble bloodlines are going to step down peacefully for an appointed plenumus? Or what of the twelve high-Vest warrior clans? What if one of them rises up to seize power in the wake of this upset?”
Saren shook his head. “You’re a Batur. You know what the Anatoles did to your entire family. They slaughtered them down to your direct nest because they feared the strength of your warriors. The same for the Hauks and the Xus. I refuse to stand by and let them do to my family what they’ve done to yours.”
Morra whistled. “Tempers, guys. C’mon. We’re not at war here. And remember that some of us aren’t Andarion. Could someone please explain this blood clan thing to me?”
Felicia moved over to Morra’s link to pull up the family crests of the highest-ranked noble and military lineages. “Centuries ago, Andaria was divided into unorganized tribes who fought each other for territory and resources.”
“Like most worlds. That I get.” Morra gestured at the crests. “I take it these were the main tribes?”
“What’s left of them. Back then, the warrior clans were our leaders. Until the Oksanans attacked and we had our first invasion from an alien race. Sadly for them, they marched through a family farm of War Hauks.”
Morra cocked her brow. “Hauk?”
“Yes,” Talyn said. “The same family tribe of The Sentella member you’re thinking. Dancer Hauk is named for the sole Andarion survivor of that battle. His family single-handedly saved our world.”
Morra nodded as she digested it. “Sounds like the Hauk I know and love.”
“While the father and children fought,” Felicia continued, “their mother ran to warn the other tribes of the invading army. It was the first time Andaria united as a single nation.”
Saren nodded. “Knowing that we could be invaded again, at any time, we held our first plenum shortly thereafter.”
“He means bloodbath,” Talyn said with a bitter note in his voice. “Not the council meetings they hold today, where the first families pitch the laws that govern us all to our tadara.”
Morra screwed her face up as she tried to follow. “Bloodbath, how?”
Talyn glanced to Felicia’s father before he explained. “It was a melee where the strongest of each clan fought to see who deserved to be our leaders. There were twenty-four survivors of that match, who then drew lots to see who would become a politician and who would create our military. The caste order of bloodlines and families was then determined by where their ancestor had finished in the match.”
Lorens nodded. “Until they got to Dancer Hauk, who had won every match. He drew a politician’s lot and refused it. He ended up trading his lot with the first Anatole, who had drawn a military slot… Anatole had finished second in the battle.”
Her father sighed heavily. “And that began the feud between the first family of the aristocracy and the first family of the military that lasts to this day.”
Morra’s scowl deepened. “Why?”
Talyn clenched his teeth as age-old bitterness choked him. “Because every Andarion knows that Dancer Hauk and his descendants are the ones who should have been our ruling family. And the Anatoles have spent the last four thousand years waiting for one