I’d never heard of anything like that. “How would we do that?”
“Possibly by ignoring us for years and flouting your independence in front of everyone you met,” Zoffany said sharply.
“We didn’t do that,” I objected.
Sato just raised an eyebrow at me.
I crossed my arms uneasily. “We didn’t do that on purpose.”
Sato snickered.
“I don’t want to be placed outside the influence of the Triple S council,” I objected.
Sato’s humour drained away, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. “I’m not going to discuss all of the lies and omissions and evasions we’ve endured from you since the day you left the academies,” he said in a flat voice.
That was good, because otherwise we’d be there all day.
“I agree you should stay here.”
I was immediately suspicious. “Why?”
“Lady Aryne is a very young woman with an enormous responsibility. She’ll benefit from your guidance.”
“We’re not here to guide her. We don’t know how to do anything she needs to do.”
“I’m sure you’ll demonstrate the same deft versatility you’ve displayed since leaving the academies.”
“We haven’t been deft! We’ve been over our heads the whole time, just stumbling from one disaster to another.”
“I doubt that’s how the history books will describe it.”
What history books? Why would we end up in any history books? “They will if I have anything to say about it.”
“You want to be here. We like the idea of your being here. Everyone’s happy.”
I wasn’t. All I’d ever wanted to do was be a Shield.
“I’m afraid I can’t really engage in conversation,” said Sato. He lifted his pen and wiggled it.
So, get out.
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me.”
Because they no longer had authority over us. Or something like that. It felt wrong, like I’d been sliced off from something important to me, something vital.
Taro and I silently left the room.
“We’ll have to revisit the rule about refusing to have sex in the palace,” Taro whispered.
I couldn’t help smiling in response.
Aryne could discern our news from our faces, and as soon as we entered the room she jumped on both of us with hugs.
“Don’t get too excited,” I cautioned her. “You wanted us as advisors, so you’ll be getting advice, and the first piece of it is to place Caster Murdoch on your council.”
“Sure,” she said easily. “Why?”
“People all over the place are learning to cast without any legitimate guidance. Some of them are causing enormous damage to themselves and the people around them, and not always accidentally. There’s nothing in the law books that properly addresses this mess. Murdoch will help you fix that.”
Aryne looked dismayed. “You want me to build a whole new system of law from the ground?”
I clapped her on the shoulder. “Welcome to the throne.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
It had been decided that there would be no parade. Parades were expensive and a means of rubbing the wealth of the monarch into the faces of all spectators. People enjoyed them and expected them for momentous occasions, such as coronations, but so many people had died, so many had lost so much, an elaborate celebration would appear grotesque and insensitive.
There would be food and ale, though. There always had to be food and ale.
It had been three months since Aryne had won the code. Through Natson she had, with a great deal of advice and assistance, rearranged the Imperial Council. Using some of the laws already in place, she sent funds and supplies to those most in need of them, cancelled projects that weren’t essential or were an enormous waste of money, and encouraged trade between those whose lives had been almost destroyed and those who had weathered the nightmare on their feet. Officials who had been illegitimately stripped of their responsibilities were reinstated. High Landed who had their titles and assets stolen from them were compensated.
All orders were delivered by Natson, but everyone knew Aryne was behind them. There were objections to this, of course, claims that Natson’s role was being stretched far beyond what the law had intended, but the majority appeared willing to let the situation stand for practical reasons.
Aryne wasn’t universally adored. Far from it. People thought she was from the wrong part of the world, uncivilised, undereducated, and too young. She was a Shield, which meant to many that she had no right to be in charge of anything, and she was perceived by many as nothing more than a tool of the Triple S.
People who found themselves removed from positions granted by Gifford or Green hated her. People given assistance felt they hadn’t been given the right kind or the right amount. Those who weren’t given compensation felt cheated. Accusations of favouritism flew like hail.
There were six attempts on her life. She beat off two of her would-be assassins herself. That, at least, impressed some who disliked everything else about her.
It wasn’t all awful. Firen was brilliant, with excellent advice on who would be useful to take on which tasks, or to speak on Aryne’s behalf to the right people. As long as I remembered he would stab me in the back as soon as smile at me, I found him handy to work with.
Murdoch was invaluable, with his calm and wise demeanour. He commanded the respect of anyone who could cast, and people in general just seemed to find him trustworthy. Aryne gave him responsibility for handling the casters who had chosen not to return to the authority of the Triple S, as well as Green’s remaining five. For the latter, Murdoch had decided they could walk about the city, but not leave it, so he could watch them.
They had claimed they’d thrown all the human ashes in fires over the course of the campaign. Dench appeared to be sincere in his disgust, but he’d fooled me before.
Natson. Knew. Everything. I believed that she had been given orders to draft succession documents for Green, but had chosen not to comply. Every time I tried to talk to her about the subject, she acted like she thought my behaviour was in appalling taste. She seemed able to dig up every other document we needed for everything else, though. She had, apparently, been responsible for a lot of people evading the dangerous attention of Gifford and Green, and their gratitude made them malleable.
The Commissioner was given authority over all of the soldiers, those of both forces. Some who had fought for the Triple S were offered positions as Imperial Guards in Erstwhile, an option Risa took. Much as we disliked it, the soldiers who had sided with Gifford and Green had to be left free to do whatever they wished. Technically, they had done nothing wrong. They’d followed the orders of the legitimate monarch.
Green had been executed on the order of traditional magistrates after a proper trial. She had been the source of the orders for the assassinations, and everyone knew it.
The Pairs were handed off to the Triple S to manage. Sato confessed to me that he didn’t really know what to do with them, especially those who could kill Sources as I had killed Segal. A temporary solution was to keep them away from any other Pairs who might be required to channel and leave themselves vulnerable to attack, but that couldn’t be maintained on the long term.
He proposed the possibility of devising a way to bind the Pairs’ ability to channel.
Tenneson objected to being punished with Ogawa, claiming he had demonstrated loyalty to the Triple S and to Aryne. Perhaps he had, but right then no one was comfortable with letting him run around unsupervised.
These were not decisions I had to make, and for that I was grateful.
Some accused Aryne of giving all her responsibilities away, and worse, giving them to people whom she considered family and friends. They didn’t see her at her desk, surrounded by piles of paper, trying to combine all of the advice she received into a coherent set of ideas.
The coronation couldn’t be delaye
d any longer, and an open invitation had been sent out. All who wanted to witness the event were welcome.
And many did. People flowed into Erstwhile, more than could be easily accommodated. At least most thought to bring tents and the like with them. Erstwhile was known for being ridiculously expensive.
Merchants, traders, the heads of guilds and Runner corps came to attend the event and swear oaths of fealty. Technically, all titleholders were required to swear oaths as well, but some of them simply had too much to do managing the destroyed lives of their tenants, and they would come at a later time to show their loyalty.
To my disappointment, Fiona was one titleholder who felt she had to delay her oath. While she had been virtually untouched by Gifford’s regime, she felt compelled to help those who hadn’t been so fortunate, and she was travelling far from Westsea to bring goods to people who had nothing.
My own family wasn’t able to come, either, for similar reasons.
Taro and I weren’t idle. In addition to being forced to participate in many of the meetings and consultations, we found ourselves the recipients of many requests from those who thought we were a direct path to Aryne’s ear. They offered money, jewellery, and the company of beautiful family members in exchange for our taking news of their interests to the Empress-to-be. Taro and I turned them down, all of them, but that seemed to have little impact on the ambitions of such people, and they persisted.
So I didn’t notice the scaffold that was being built before the new and less hideous palace gate until the day before the coronation. It had four chairs built upon it. The largest one, of simple black walnut wood, was to be Aryne’s throne. Gifford’s monstrocity had been melted down. There was one chair to the right of it and two on the left. Traditionally, a second chair might be placed for a consort or an heir. Aryne had neither.
When she had a spare moment, I asked her about it.
She looked like she thought the answer was obvious. “For Druce and you and Shintaro.”
I stared at her. “All right, Druce makes sense. She’s your Source. But Taro and I don’t belong up there.”
“You’re the Erstwhile Pair. You’re my most important advisors.”
“If you glorify us in this way, people will think we have too much influence over you. That the Triple S has influence over you. You can’t afford that.”
“People know you’re not really tied to the Triple S anymore. Not really.”
That idea still disturbed me.
“And it’s all about the same reasons you need to be the Erstwhile Pair. You’re the best. You’re connected to everything. Everyone loves you. Except the ones who are jealous of you, and they don’t matter.”
“People might think you’re expecting them to swear fealty to us.”
“Unless they’re stupid, the wording of the oaths themselves will tell them I’m not.”
“You’re putting us on display,” I complained.
“Do it for me,” she implored. She widened her eyes. “Please.”
And, of course, I was bound. “I think I liked you better when you never used that word.”
She grinned in triumph.
And so the next day, after the crowds had gathered, Taro and Druce and I climbed on to the scaffold, stood in front of our designated chairs, and waited for Aryne. Trumpets announced her approach, and in a slim-fitting red dress that everyone else would soon be imitating, she climbed the stairs and stood at the table, where Natson was waiting.
Natson bowed to Aryne and Aryne nodded in return.
“State your name,” Natson ordered.
“Aryne Malkar.”
“State your lineage.”
Unfortunately, Aryne didn’t know her mother’s name. We’d made one up. Her great grandmother had been the one to move to Flatwell, so it wasn’t as though anyone could check without more effort and expense than most people could afford. “Daughter of Antonia Madas, who was the daughter of Nevress Madas, who was the daughter of Ara Dexy Migella Madas, who was the daughter of Kemmeth Elisia Yuuki Madas, who was the daughter of Aneck Randolf Emery Madas, who was the son of Benik Chapry James Madas, and stretching back into the mists of time.”
“How have you proven your right to the position of high commander of the Empire?”
“Through tests of strength and strategy.”
And then some.
“How have you proven your right to the position of high justice of the Empire?”
“Through study and reflection.”
“Who will attest to your character?”
“I will.” Lord Lampen had volunteered for this task. He’d been one of those who’d been stripped of his estate under Green’s rule, after her return from the battlefield. We’d investigated his recent actions, and we could find no reason to believe he had deserved such a loss beyond apparently being one of those who had been resistant to the casts wound through Gifford’s oaths of fealty.
“And you are?”
“The Earl of Lampen.”
“And what say you, my lord?”
“I attest that Lady Aryne is a woman of honour, of honesty, of valour, and of sound mind.” Then he stepped back.
“Why should you be our Empress?” Natson asked Aryne.
Here, the ceremonial responses had needed adjustment, due to Aryne’s upbringing.
“I have been trained in the knowledge of my responsibilities to the people, and tutored in the honour to be found in the service of others. Always will I know that every decision I make must be made with the best interests of the people in mind, that their needs come before my own, that I am merely the most visible of servants to the people. I will dedicate myself to the peace and prosperity of all. This shall be my guiding principle for the rest of my life.”
The adjustments also made for a shorter speech. Shorter speeches were better speeches.
Natson picked up from the table the monarch’s sword. “Do you affirm on your name, your life, and your lineage, that you will keep the position of high commander of the Empire with all honour, putting aside personal connection and favour where it may conflict with duty, for as long as you shall live?”
“I so affirm.”
Natson presented the sword to Aryne, hilt first. “I bestow upon you the rank of high commander.”
Aryne, looking elegant and serene, took the sword.
Natson picked up the staff, the symbol of justice. “Do you affirm on your name, your life, and your lineage that you will keep the position of high justice with all honour, putting aside personal connection and favour where it may conflict with duty, for as long as you shall live?”
“I so affirm.”
Natson offered the staff. “I bestow upon you the rank of high justice.”
Aryne took the staff and held it at an angle so it didn’t clatter against the sword.
Natson held up the heavy crown. “Do you affirm on your name, your life, and your lineage that you will keep the position of Empress with all honour, putting aside personal connection and favour when it may conflict with duty, as long as you shall live?”
“I so affirm.”
Natson stood behind her and had to reach up pretty high to put the crown on Aryne’s head. “I bestow upon you the rank of Empress.”
I took a deep breath.
The spectators applauded. They weren’t wildly enthusiastic, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
And when the applause quieted, all Aryne said was, “Thank you.”
Druce, Taro and I sat in our seats.
Lampen was the first to climb the stairs to swear his loyalty to Aryne.
As I watched person after person come up to kneel before our new Empress, I wondered what the hell I was doing there.
I looked at Taro. It was all because of him. He was the reason we’d been called to work in the most prestigious post as soon as we were Bonded. He was the one who caught the attention of the Empress, which resulted in our being sent to Flatwell, where we found Aryne. He was the one the Empress had
trusted with the code, enabling Aryne to ultimately become Empress herself. It was because of him that Gifford had sent us to Flown Raven, where we’d become embroiled in local affairs, which a Pair wasn’t supposed to do. He was why everyone thought we were the most talented Pair in the world, and why the Triple S was prepared to release us to act as Aryne’s advisors.
Advisors.
None of this would have happened if I had been Matched to another Source. I’d known, as soon as we Bonded, that he would pull me into all sorts of strange situations.
“This is all your fault, you know,” I told him.
And he, being a smart lad, knew exactly what I was talking about.
He winked.
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