(Oh how can I wake her. She worked so long today and the first blossom had to show up now of all times.)

  In the dead hours of the night where morning and evening were blended in forgetful darkness the Empress of Taravam woke to the timid thoughts of her newest maid. The maid was waiting outside her personal sitting room which was connected to her actual bedroom, as opposed to her 'bedroom' where a body double slept each night. Her bed was made of simple wool, which felt to her better than silk since her servant's nook was a bit drafty. In summertime it was perfect, but since it was part of the first construction there was no allowance to change it's design.

  She flicked a bug that was sitting on the rim of the washbowl before she scrubbed her face. By the time the servant had brought up the courage to 'wake' her she had already slipped through the secret passage into the 'bedroom', switched nightclothes, and mussed her hair for appearance.

  She opened the door and let out a bone cracking yawn. "Is it morning already?" In her mind's eye the servant stiffened before rushing to her.

  "M'lady no it is not, but the first blossom fell. They need you right quick if you can manage."

  The Empress pretended to hesitate but chose to leave. A fist sized beetle clambered out from a silk lined wicker basked and clambered up her silken shift and begged for a treat. She had one in her hand already. The beetle then scuttled to her back and carefully started cleaning and combing her hair with it's mouthparts. It was efficient and the Empress was never able to deny him the job. He would sulk for a whole day if he was denied it. He 'finished' making the Empress' hair after a whole ten seconds then huffed and went back to bed. It had been only three hours since he'd cleaned her hair before she went to sleep.

  The servant prepared her a simple lavender dressand laced identically coloured slippers. The new year's ceremony was required to be done within a day of the first petal falling from the Dragon's Gift but nobody wanted to risk a delay.

  ---

  The Dragon's Gift was a massive cherry tree that was the cause for the only case of renovation in the Taravam palace, growing the garden so that it could properly thrive. Two priests were in attendance with the light of lanternvines giving off a dim glow that made the garden feel magical.

  The attendant waited in the reception hall, for fear of doing something that would ruin the ceremony more than anything else. The priests were tired and grumpy, though their faces hid it excellently. The spirits watching had the same anticipation that was present each year.

  There were three blossoms that fell, though the first one had been surrounded by a woven ring of grass. Only the Empress was permitted to touch it. She kneeled, bowed to the tree, then gently plucked the flower from its place. At the foot of the tree was a stone pillar at waist height with an indentation like a bird bath. It was half full of rainwater and one of the priests poured a jug of pure alcohol into it.

  "I am here, with the same agreement as was made before." The Empress projected with all the authority she could bear. A silly tradition, but she was the only one in the know. The spirits were unfazed by her statement, being identical to all the other times.

  "We ask for your blessing on this land, and in return we offer the first of this bounty." She placed the flower into the mixture, drawing all the mana she had available to pour into the flower and radiate through the liquid. The spirits grew attentive, as always.She went through the same moves as a dozen times before, forming a potion of exceeding quality.

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  "I offer of this , that you will take and make use of it." She was given the jug and drew as much of the alcohol as could be done with the single container. The thoughts of the spirits were battering at her mind, though she had experience ignoring their anticipation. One came down, appearing suddenly to the priests.

  "Your offfering is accepted, and we will provide our great bounty." The spirit in the form of a faceless man touched the pedestal which lit up with mana and the liquid turned from a clear to a deep violet. It also contained no alcohol. With the movement of a practiced drunk the spirit took the jug and disappeared, taking the jug. The rest of the spirits cheered, silent to all but the Empress, that they would drink well tonight. One stopped to touch the straw ring which flashed with fire and immediately was ash. The Priests turned their attention to the remnants of the ring, trying to divine the quality of the next year from the ash. It often said little, but what it said was reliable.

  The Empress retired to her quarters. The priests would spend the next ten hours making divinations to narrow what answers they could gain from the miracle and she had a long day tomorrow.

  ---

  The new year celebrations were always a bit rushed since the exact date had a range of several days. Even so the performance that she was viewing would have been amateur at the best of times. It was a performance meant for her as a dozen children of the nobility were reenacting an old play based on the friendship between the first Emperor and the dragon who gifted them the cherry sapling.

  The nobles didn't dare to defy her though since it was a regular demand the children were not afraid. Most of these children would be offered as servants to her for a time and she wanted to make sure that she knew their eccentricities. Little Lacey was an obvious tattle tale given how she was considering talking down her fellow players to her mother if she got scolded. It could be useful if she learned discretion. She didn't want to deal with serving maids knifing each other almost spiraling to an open rebellion again.

  None else stood out much so the Empress told each of the two dozen children by name that they did very good and shared the candied strawberry from her personal stock. Free from poison since she had a secret order of chefs that she treated well. A half hour's meeting every other week was the whole world to them.

  After the little players left the priests came in with the divination. By the look on their faces it wasn't going to go well. She ordered the guards out of the hall and formed a shield. Those listening would have a humm occupy their mind so no matter how well they tried to remember the words they would slip from the mind the moment they were heard.

  "What news, dear priests?"

  "Three things. Two bad and one good."

  The Priest of Tarav and the Priest of Aria had the appearance of messengers under threat of a tyrant. She only executed the one priest who outwardly lied about the reading to get her to inadvertently incite a rebellion. Thousands of her people would have died if he'd gotten his way.

  "The bad?"

  "The garden you started will be eaten by another." The priest of Aria recited.

  "A dead equal stands to steal your descendant." Tarav continued.

  The scale of the readings was often ignored. Most thought they would be Empire level events all the time, most of the spirits were only interested in the larger things but there were a few that would be much more personal. They liked to sit by her and explain their genius when she was alone. Whether they would do so if they knew she could hear them was another thing.

  As an example 'A knife in the heart of her Empire' could have meant losing a great city though it did not accompany that. Her consort had begun plans to steralize her so his son would inherit and had actually managed to hide it from her for a while. His mind worked so wonderfully, the depths of genius completely available to puruse and yet were so thick that plots could be hidden in plain sight.

  He might actually do something against the Other Empire before dying in a blaze of glory. He was doomed since 'a child and lover of the great Aria' was a contradiction in terms and he would not be able to defy fate as last year predicted.

  "The good?"

  "Your son survived death but has made a friend with chaos. The future grows in magnitude and obscurity."

  Even the spirits are having trouble divining what is to come. She probably wouldn't get hints from the spirits this time around.

  "What do you think?" She let them explain their reasoning. Sometimes there were nuances that could be lost that looking at their recent memories would elucidate. There was also a small chance they were lying.

  If not for tradition she'd probably do away with the whole thing.

  But since she paid for it she would get all the value from it.