by CJ Brightley
“Yaika, daughter of the Freshgrown family,” the Ruler intoned, inclining her head. “We have come to honor you with our presence.”
Yaika’s mouth gaped open and closed. A hoarse squeak came out of it.
“Thank you, Ruler,” I fumbled, bowing deeply and tugging my sister down with me. “We have done nothing to deserve such glory.”
“Of course not,” the Ruler said, smiling indulgently. “This is my first heir, Alyss. These are my thirty-ninth and forty-seventh heirs, Caes and Jinny. They have come to help me evaluate you.”
Evaluate us? I thought, alarm shooting down my spine. Evaluate us for what?!
“I’m so honored to meet them!” Yaika squeaked. “Um — I’m the second heir! This is Raneh, my older sister!”
Third heir, I thought, indignantly. You’re the third heir. Hurik’s second. Then again, now that she had status, our parents might very well have changed the heir rankings. She had better not wind up first heir over me.
The Ruler barely flicked a glance over at me. “Indeed. Are your parents present?”
“N-no, Ruler,” Yaika stammered. She swallowed visibly. “F-Father’s out assigning an allotment to a new vassal family, and Mother’s helping a vassal with a new baby.”
“Entirely appropriate,” the Ruler said, smiling. I could see Yaika breathe a huge sigh of relief. “Landowners must cherish their vassals. Or else all things would fall apart.”
“Y-yes, Ruler,” Yaika said, nodding vigorously.
“May I gain entrance to your home?” the Ruler asked, but it didn’t really sound like she was asking. More like she was granting us a privilege.
“O-of course, Ruler,” Yaika said. She scrambled out of the way of the door, nearly bumping into me. I glanced behind us, and saw that our one vassal had been joined by several others, all watching with their mouths open.
We’re going to get gawkers looking in the windows for the rest of the day, aren’t we? I thought with a sigh.
The Ruler swept in through the open doorway, and her husband and heirs followed. Then all the statusless people went after them, including several I hadn’t noticed who must have gotten out of the Ruler’s carriage while I wasn’t looking. This was somewhat galling, given that we hadn’t given them permission, and they didn’t ask. But I kept my mouth shut, with effort.
I noticed that all of the carriages were just sitting out there.
“Um,” I said, turning around to our vassals, “would you mind collapsing those and moving them off to the side?”
“Of course, heir,” one of them said, eyes still glued to the door. He made no sign of moving.
I sighed and followed Yaika into the house. Hopefully they’d do it eventually.
Inside the house, there was no sign of the Ruler, or her husband, or any of her heirs. But I did hear footsteps going over our heads. I looked up, startled. Were they seriously walking around looking at our bedrooms, without asking for a tour or anything? I couldn’t believe it.
Even more annoying, the statusless people were lounging all over our downstairs. One man was going through the kitchen, opening up cupboards and peering into drawers. I hoped he messed up Grandmother’s organization and she’d lecture him in fury.
Three others were sitting around our dining table. One had his hands behind his head, his chair tilted back, and his feet up on the table. I was sorely tempted to walk over and smack those down.
The last two were in the sitting room, having taken both of the comfortable chairs Yaika and I had been sitting in a moment ago. Yaika had pulled one of the two spare chairs from the corner and was fidgeting and gulping in it, so that left only the spare chair with the wobbly leg remaining.
I glanced back at the table. No way was I going to sit there with a person dirtying the surface where we ate. I glanced over at the kitchen. The man in there was now getting into one of Grandmother’s jars of tartberry preserves. I glanced up at the ceiling. The footsteps sounded like they were right over my room.
Wobbly chair it is, I thought, storming over.
“. . . so nice to actually be able to relax,” the woman was saying, leaning back in the chair that had been mine and stretching her shoulders. “I hate those days when it’s all red, red, red, red, blue, blue, blue, blue, oh wait there’s a social event, you can’t go because you’re not important, blue, blue, blue, blue.”
The man, who had a tidy grey beard and was balding at the temples, nodded. “At least we’ve got the Ruler today. Some of those heirs are dreadful.”
“Tell me about it,” the woman said, shaking her head. Several thick black strands worked loose from a ponytail at the back of her neck. She didn’t seem to notice. “Did I tell you? Yesterday, when I was escorting the twenty-seventh heir across the north-north-northwest Road . . .”
“Excuse me,” I broke in, setting up the wobbly chair. “Are you two magicians or mathematicians?”
Yaika rolled her eyes at me, as if to say, Why are you taking an interest in these people?
“Magicians,” the woman said.
“Magicians,” the man said at the same time. “The Ruler doesn’t travel with mathematicians. They’re everywhere, and they all know the same things.”
“But . . . magicians also know the same things,” I said. “So why does the Ruler travel with so many?”
The man and woman looked at each other, and both started laughing.
“You don’t know anything about the Ruler’s Road, do you?” the woman asked, her voice condescending. “It takes multiple magicians to get the caravan up to speed. And it takes multiple magicians to slow it down again, at least in time to actually stop for any banners the Ruler or heir sees.”
“We multiply the speed,” the male magician explained kindly. “It’s the only way to get anywhere quickly. With several of us working at once, the effect is exponential.”
Um . . . “I thought you said you weren’t mathematicians,” I said. “That sounds like mathematician jargon.”
“Oh, please,” the woman said, waving her hand carelessly. “The enhancement system is all multiplicatory. We all know some mathematics. We couldn’t do much if we didn’t.”
I blinked. Do our magicians know that? As far as I knew, Lala had never shown any interest in it whatsoever.
“Does group work really make that much difference?” I hedged.
“Let me put it this way,” the man said, leaning forward. “Imagine a distance so far, you could never reach it unless you walked your entire lifetime. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said.
“Now imagine you could reach it in an hour instead.”
I felt dizzy. “Is Central that far away?”
“Almost,” the woman said, giving the man a snide look. “But he’s exaggerating. It took two and a half hours to get here. It would take three and a half to get to the rimlands.”
“Two and a quarter hours to get here,” the man corrected. “Now you’re exaggerating.”
I breathed shallowly. I could hardly process it. I knew that everybody in the whole world lived in the Rulership. But I’d never realized just how large the whole world must be.
I glanced over at Yaika. She looked bored and jittery.
I heard the front door open, and I bolted from my seat. Father stood in the doorway, his eyes wide. “Is she . . .?” he panted.
“She’s upstairs,” I said, relieved to see him.
Father took a deep breath and focused on all the uninvited guests. He squeezed his eyes shut, fists clenched. Then his shoulders relaxed, and he opened his eyes to break forth into a friendly smile.
“Welcome to my home,” he said graciously, nodding at the magicians gathered around our dining table. “I expect you are the Ruler’s mathematicians? Magicians?”
“Magicians,” the man with his feet up on the table said.
“All of us,” another man said through a full mouth of bread, wandering out of the kitchen. One of his hands carried Grandmother’s open jar of tartberry preserves. The o
ther hand held a round of seedbread. He tore a chunk out of it, tossed it in his mouth, and continued speaking with his mouth full. “The Ruler doeshn’t travel wiff maffmaticiansh.”
“I see,” Father said. His jaw twitched, but he didn’t say anything. “And why is the Ruler upstairs?”
“Checking out the accommodations,” a voice echoed from the top of the stairs. A blaze of status preceded the Ruler’s descent. As she turned the bend in the landing, her lavender and gold outer skirt caught on the banister, and I caught a snatch of her underskirts. They were covered in ridiculously ornate embroidery.
“Accommodations . . .?” Father asked, his throat sounding dry.
“Because I will be staying with you for the rest of the week,” the Ruler said, as if it were obvious. “So will my husband, Lancen; my first heir, Alyss; my thirty-ninth heir, Caes; and my forty-seventh heir, Jinny. The magicians may be dispersed to whatever empty vassal homes you might have available.”
Yaika gasped and leapt up from her chair. She raced to the bottom of the stairs. “Does that mean — does that mean that I can invite you to my coming-out party, Ruler? I was hoping to invite you, but I know you’re busy, so of course I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I’d be so honored if you —”
The Ruler smiled benevolently. “I would love to.”
Yaika squealed and clapped her hands. “This couldn’t be more perfect timing! It’s tomorrow!”
“Tomorrow?” Father yelped, staring at her.
“Yes,” Yaika said, glaring at him. “Tomorrow, after midday and before the evening. Remember?”
Father’s jaw clenched. It looked like he had a headache.
“Ha ha ha!” I laughed weakly, trying to break the tension. “Uh, shall we go find Mother? And tell her the Ruler is here?”
“Yes, please,” Father said through his clenched teeth. “I would love to hear her input on this party.”
I hurried out of the house before Father could blow up, dragging him with me. His arm felt very tense.
“It could be worse,” I murmured to him as we headed towards the allotments on the left side of our fields. “She was planning to invite the Ruler, no matter what. Which, uh, I sort of assumed she’d mentioned to you. So if the Ruler weren’t staying, she would have decided to hold it today . . .”
My voice trailed off as I realized what I was saying. It could have been worse? Really? If the Ruler weren’t planning to stay for an entire week? Really?
“Why did I ever think Hurik was a handful?” Father muttered under his breath.
My sentiments exactly, I thought, rubbing my forehead.
If Father had a headache, it seemed to be catching.
18
Quietly, I slipped outside. I didn’t dare to get rid of my magic in the morning, when the Ruler and her many magicians might be watching, so I decided to do it while they were all asleep.
I slipped out of the back door, through the kitchen, instead of the front door, which could sometimes squeak. I felt proud of myself for being so stealthy.
As I snuck through the darkness, I was surprised to hear Mother and Father’s low voices drifting from under the tree where we kept the latrine.
“. . . why do you really think she’s here?” Mother’s voice said. “She says it’s just for Yaika, but surely our daughter’s not that enthralling.”
I froze, afraid to make a muscle. A breath of wind whispered past me, catching in my torron nightgown’s thin hem.
“It’s not like we have anything to hide,” Father said. “I can’t think why else she could be here. Unless . . .”
My heart hammered. Unless . . .
“You think there might be a crime in the area?” Mother asked. “Something we don’t know about?”
I swallowed. My throat felt dry.
“It’s possible,” Father said. “But I don’t see why she would investigate it herself, much less bring her husband with her.”
“And also three heirs,” Mother pointed out.
“Not just three heirs,” Father’s voice said, slightly muffled as the breeze blew straight in my ears. I snuck closer, wanting to her the rest. I carefully stepped around the thick, exposed roots as I neared the trees around the latrine. As I got closer, Father’s voice became clearer again. “. . . to bring her first heir. Did you notice that? Her husband and her first heir. What in the world would possess her to take both of them anywhere outside of Central together? What could possibly be that important?”
“Maybe they’re having a family outing,” Mother said. “Maybe it’s an excuse to spend time together.”
“Oh, please,” Father snorted. “The Ruler only has one birth child, and that one’s younger than Yaika. All the rest of her heirs are adopted, and a few of them are actually older than her. The relationship between the Ruler and her heirs is probably no different from the one I had with Edarn and Sally.”
I shivered, rubbing my arms against the cold wind. Father’s parents’ landowners had adopted him as their heir when he was fifteen. They’d taught him how to become a landowner, he’d taken over their duties that they were getting too old to perform, and they’d chosen someone else to be their next heir after he got engaged. Most landowners did that after their children were all grown and married.
My foot cracked on a twig, and I froze.
“Who’s there?” Mother’s voice shot through the darkness.
“Sorry! Sorry!” I cried, running forward. I brushed tree branches out of my face and ducked under another one to emerge where my parents were. “It’s just me. I was just, uh, heading out to use the latrine.”
“Raneh,” Mother said, folding her arms. “Were you eavesdropping?”
“Uh . . .” I said. “Yes. A little bit. Sorry.”
“Well, you might as well join in the conversation,” Father said, straightening his sleeve. “Do you have any ideas why the Ruler might be here?”
I straightened my spine and my shoulders, feeling important. I loved it when Mother and Father treated me like an adult. “I’m sure she’s here for the same reason she said she was,” I said. “To evaluate us. I have no clue what for, though. As for the rest, maybe her husband or her first heir have family in this area, and they’re planning to drop by after they’re finished?”
Mother and Father exchanged doubtful looks.
“I’m fairly certain the Ruler’s husband grew up in Central,” Mother said. “I don’t know about her first heir, though. It’s possible.”
“Well, I don’t think she’s here for any sort of crime,” I pursued. “If she were, she wouldn’t look so relaxed. I mean, she’s poking her nose into everything like it’s entertaining, not like she’s suspicious of anything.”
My parents both relaxed slightly.
“Good point,” Mother said.
“Besides,” Father said, “it’s not like we’d have anything to worry about if she were.”
Right. My toes clenched inside my slippers. Nothing to worry about, indeed.
“Who were those other heirs she brought with her, anyway?” Mother asked. “The fifty-ninth? The forty-seventh?”
Father’s brow furrowed. “The twenty-ninth and thirty-first, I believe.”
“No, I’m sure they were both after thirty-second,” I said. Heir rankings were incredibly hard to memorize because the words were all five syllables long and followed no discernible pattern. But once, to show off, I’d memorized all the heir rankings up to thirty-second because that word, ranehshikara, started with my name. I’d since forgotten the order they came in, because almost nobody had heirs past fifth or sixth, but I knew I hadn’t ever memorized either of the two the Ruler had said.
“I’ll have to ask Father,” Father said. “That man loves everything to do with numbers. I’m sure he’ll remember.”
“What are we going to do about Yaika’s party tomorrow?” I broke in. “Are we really going to have it in the house, like Yaika was planning?”
Father winced. “I wonder if Lala has en
ough magic to make the interior big enough for everyone who’s bound to show up. I’d be very much surprised if nearly all the vassals within walking distance don’t invite themselves.”
Mother nodded. “They’ll all want to catch a glimpse of the Ruler. It’s only natural.”
“Can’t we just tell them only landowners are invited?” I asked hopefully.
“What good would that do?” Father asked. “It’s not a private party. Vassals can come to landowner events if they want to; they just usually don’t.”
“It would be very rude to turn people away,” Mother said. “Coming-out parties are traditionally open attendance. And rudeness . . . well, you know vassals can ding status every bit as much as landowners can.”
I flinched, thinking about the possibility of crowds of angry vassals taking all our status away.
“Honestly, I’m not too worried about the house,” Father said. “If it’s too crowded, that will just encourage guests to leave early, which would be fine with me. My main worry is the fact that there are bound to be more vassals than landowners, and I’m not at all sure all of them will know how to behave properly.”
“Then somebody should explain the rules of propriety before they’re allowed in,” I said. “Jontan’s family, maybe?”
“Eliss is too timid, Jontan is too dull, Elay is too quiet, and Fontan is too wishy-washy,” Father said. “No.”
“Your mother,” Mother said, turning to Father. “There’s no one who can shame a miscreant into behaving like she can. It would help that she’s a vassal herself.”
Father nodded thoughtfully. “But then who’d be cooking all day?”
“Nobody,” Mother said flatly. “We’ll go with jam, slices of bread, and sweetsticks. Yaika can complain all she wants about it later, but we really can’t afford to provide fancy refreshments with the entire neighborhood descending on us.”
I hid a snort of laughter at the thought of Yaika’s indignation.
“Do we have time to make that many tartberry preserves?” Father asked doubtfully. “We’re not going to waste all our tonna berries on random, unappreciative strangers, I hope.”