Of course, she wasn’t at all sure what she had envisioned, except that her mother was supposed to have handled this, as it was her plan and she was the former queen. She was supposed to have mastered the skill of envisioning a result so that it would manifest as she chose. Oria hadn’t indulged herself with many expectations, as they’d inevitably led to disappointment. Time enough to learn all of that, she’d thought, if she ever mastered hwil. She’d never imagined things would happen so fast, one upon the next. Or that her personal scale of sorrows and successes would alter quite so dramatically. The nine-person council—composed of two priests, two priestesses, four folcwitas, who managed all nonmagical aspects of running Bára, headed by Folcwita Lapo, and High Priestess Febe—all seemed to frown at her as one. Captain Ercole, representing the City Guard, stood to the side as a non-voting consultant only. Though as Oria understood it, the council didn’t exactly vote so much as attempt to persuade the titular heads of the body, those being the senior folcwita and high priest or priestess, to then advise the king or queen.
