Of course, the royal couple was absent, due to the current situation, but Prince Vere and his wife were there. I caught Willow’s eye a few times, and I saw in them the same look of longing that I thought I’d seen through several meals before our accidental voyage together.
I looked down quickly whenever she looked at me, a bit embarrassed that I’d been in such close quarters with her without her husband’s knowledge. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Her dark red dress wasn’t particularly revealing or form fitting, but I could imagine her lithe form in that form-fitting jumpsuit in excruciatingly pleasing detail. Afraid my attention to her slim body would attract my Lord’s notice, I tried to think of other things instead.
There was the Empress Jewel, of course, with her easy smile and sultry eyes. And, of course, her red crotchless panties. Panties which would have been stone cold sexy on Willow, indeed.
Lady Redwing was a natural choice to focus on, since she wasn’t even there. With all the problems she’d been causing me lately, it was natural that memories of her should help relieve my tensions. Unfortunately, all I could think of was the lady drifting by me, trailing the soft scent of roses, but when I looked, it was Willow responsible for the heavenly scent.
It didn’t help that dinner was simple fare. It reminded me of the meals I shared with Willow on the Raven.
For a moment, I wished that all the problems we faced were as simple as the dinner, but I realized that wouldn’t necessarily help us to solve them, either.
Years ago, when I was a new secretary and still drunk on the responsibilities of my new position, I tried to solve all of the problems on Oasis in one afternoon. Lord Oswald laughed at me and took me out on the veranda to talk.
From there, we could see most of the palace grounds, with its gardens and fountains and grassy areas and everything. It was a beautiful thing to behold.
Lord Oswald drew in a deep noseful of the pungent air and smiled. “Can you smell that?”
I did the same. “Lilacs, I think. And pansies.”
“The obvious ones,” he said, clearly disappointed. “What else is there?”
I tried again and wrinkled my nose, trying to get past the strong odors to the subtle ones hidden behind them. “And manure and stagnant water, too.” I looked at my Lord for some hint that I was on the right track.
He smiled and nodded. “All wrapped up in each other, aren’t they? The manure is used to fertilize the flowers, and the water feeds them, too. But look there,” — he pointed to a broken fountain near some roses — “if the water doesn’t move, it stagnates. That fountain should be fixed, but it’s just one of twenty, so it just sits there, unrepaired, without really causing much of a problem besides an occasional waft of stale water. Now, if all twenty fountains were broken, would the problem be the same?”
Shaking my head, I followed him back inside. He wandered over to my notes and pointed at them.
“Each of these solutions is valid, all by itself.” Lord Oswald grinned. “They might even solve the problems, too.”
The word but hung in the air, unsaid.
“You’ve focused on the obvious symptoms for each problem here.” The prince waved my problem-solving attempts aside. “But, you’ve ignored the more subtle interactions between the problems. If you solve problem A without regard to its effect on problem B, you’ll find that problem B’s characteristics are changed, and that may affect problem C, too.”
Thinking I saw where he was going, I continued, “And that might change problem D, and so on down the line, which could potentially change problem A in turn, rendering your original solution invalid.”
The prince looked at me for a second, impressed. “Yes, that’s possible, too. Although I was just trying to point out how you can introduce new problems into the mix by focusing exclusively on that one problem.”
Ultimately, it was more a matter of coordinating solutions. Each problem had multiple solutions, and a good analyst identified each of those as well as a best solution. But, the analyst, by definition, tended to be too focused on the problem to see if the best solution was really the best for the entire system of problems.
A good manager, like the prince and most of the Eternal Empire’s planetary governors, had to take the entire system of problems into account to determine what the real best solution was. In some cases, a lesser-desired solution for problem A also turned out to be one of problem B’s solutions, too, which, if implemented, helped cut down on the side effects.
Sometimes it was easier to solve a dozen complex problems simultaneously than it was to attack two or three seemingly simple problems one at a time.
Like a light bulb going off in my brain at the emperor’s dining table, I suddenly felt illuminated. Like a simple analyst, I’d been so focused on the problem of Lady Redwing’s appearance at the succession announcement party, that I’d ignored how the problem changed as the new problems were introduced.
The emperor’s poisoning had minimized Lady Redwing’s importance. Yet, she was gone well before the alleged poisoning, which guaranteed the perception of her innocence of such a heinous act. Therefore, my Lord’s association with her would brand him as virtuous by extension, decreasing the level of suspicion against him even without her presence.
And if my Lord was innocent of the poisoning, that would remove his motive for skewering Lord Sumter. Even an idiot could see that Lord Sumter’s murder was a preliminary gesture for achieving the emperor’s title, rather than just his favor.
Or were they? Would Noir see them as related problems, too? Or would he assume they were separate attempts?
Noir was an enigma at the best of times; I had little hope of understanding him now. But, it didn’t really matter if he saw any relation between Sumter and the emperor, anyway. From Lord Oswald’s standpoint, the two problems and their solutions affected each other.
But, given my new perspective, was the impending civil war on Oasis even worth worrying about? Apparently, Lord Oswald didn’t seem to think so.
Mercifully, dinner came to an end quickly, and my Lord was just as prompt as the other heirs to excuse himself and retire to his rooms for the evening.
We navigated the halls silently. Lord Oswald smiled faintly and took a seat in his receiving room as I closed the hallway door.
“Lord Oswald,” I began, grateful for the opportunity at last to broach the subject of the civil war brewing on Oasis.
“Call me Oz,” he said, grinning.
Honestly, I tried, but I just couldn’t say it. When all was said and done, I was nobody, and he was a blood heir to the throne of the Eternal Empire. I couldn’t accept such familiarity, even when offered freely.
Instead, I ignored my Lord and pressed on. “Oasis is in turmoil,” I said, “and there’s a civil war on the horizon.”
Lord Oswald frowned slightly and nodded his head. “Governors arguing about their share of the tribute? Templar claiming we don’t need to pay at all and Dwelman questioning the whole setup?”
I stared at him dumbly. How did he guess what was happening on Oasis?
“And Vynger suggesting they don’t need you,” I said.
Lord Oswald’s eyebrows shot up in alarm. “Really? That’s a new one. Still, I should think Z can handle it as usual.”
As usual? How many times had something like this happened before without my knowing of it?
My Lord must have seen the puzzlement on my face, because he answered my question without my asking.
“Oh, don’t worry, it’s the usual crowd,” my Lord said. “They do this every few years, like clockwork. The Angels always take care of it without bothering me with the details.”
That made sense, considering what I’d experienced. General Zanuck had indeed dispersed the Angels immediately, without waiting to consult with the prince. By the time I arrived on Oasis, both the squabbling roosters and Oswald’s Angels were in top form. I’d thought at the time that the general was just acting smartly on his own authority in the
prince’s absence, but apparently my Lord had worked out an ongoing plan with him to deal with uprisings.
Still, it seemed to me that Zanuck’s standard measures weren’t completely effective, or the rebellion would have been quashed by now. And the general hadn’t mentioned any standard plan when I discussed strategy with him shortly before leaving.
Was there something else in the mix this time?
Just in case, I told my Lord about my conversations with the general.
Grinning, my Lord said, “See? Nothing to worry about, my boy. Z’s taking care of it. You’d be better off worrying about our problems here instead.”
Lord Oswald made his excuses and disappeared into his bedroom for the night, vowing to get a good night’s sleep for a change, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him or not. Another person might not have noticed, but I’d been with the man for too long a time not to see the flash of worry crossing his eyes, despite his boyish grin.
I vowed, myself, to get a good night’s sleep, though, and tried to put my worries out of my mind.
***
The dreams visiting me that night were either innocuous or nonexistent. For the first time in several days, I woke without finding myself soaked in sweat or with my heart pounding. I half-smiled, half-yawned my way into consciousness, when the memory of current affairs erased all of my pleasant feelings. Dressing quickly, I opened my bedroom door to find Lord Oswald waiting patiently in the receiving room.
“Good morning,” he said and unfolded himself from the chair. Still a head shorter than I, he looked up at me and smiled genially. “The emperor awaits, my boy. Time for breakfast.”
And with that, we headed once again for the dining room. It seemed to me that our time in New Rome recently consisted mostly of shuttling between our rooms and the dining room, which was the last place I wanted to go, considering the butterflies in my stomach since I saw Oasis.
House arrest made me restless, I decided.
As we entered the dining room and found our seats, I stared at each of the heirs as we passed, wishing each of them in turn would suddenly jump up and confess to Lord Sumter’s murder and the emperor’s poisoning, just so we could leave Eternity and go home. Oasis with a civil war on its hands had to be less stressful than bearing Lord Noir’s scrutiny for murder.
Alas, none of them admitted the deed unbidden, and we sat down to a meal I didn’t want.
The emperor arrived with his usual panache, accompanied by Prince Vere, naturally. They muttered to each other constantly as the prince helped the emperor to his seat, every sound amplified by the silence in the room. Nobody else dared speak, straining to hear every syllable exchanged between the two.
I picked at my food, but didn’t eat much. I noticed that most of the heirs at the table did the same.
My Lord, on the other hand, packed it away at a fearsome rate. It was almost as if the news from Oasis kicked his metabolism into higher gear. As if the thrill of battle excited him more than the fear of being arrested for assassination scared him. After all the years I’d served him, he could still surprise me.
Prince Vere ate heartily, too, but then I expected him to, since it seemed that he had sidestepped any suspicion in the poisoning somehow.
Eventually, after Noir was satisfied the rest of us had ignored our food enough, he slithered out from the shadows, clad in his trademark black, and cleared his throat, standing just behind the emperor and to his side.
“What?” Emperor Seraphim said, looking up at the senator, surprised. “Oh, yes. Tell them, Noir.” The emperor waved his hand feebly, then went back to his conversation with his favorite heir.
“Of course, your majesty,” Noir said, bowing deeply, so that his forehead nearly touched the table between the emperor and Prince Vere. Straightening up, he cleared his throat again to get our attention and smiled.
“Good morning,” Noir’s voice boomed, startling several people, including the emperor, who flinched and dug a finger into his ear. “As you can see,” — he gestured at the emperor — “His majesty has recovered fully from a mild case of food poisoning.”
Several people exhaled with relief, but I felt they were premature. Noir merely said the emperor’s poisoning had come from food, not that it wasn’t brought on deliberately.
Noir nodded almost imperceptibly toward the door. I glanced over to find one of the guards rapidly approaching him.
“Of course,” Noir continued, ignoring the guard and staring directly at Lord Oswald, “I am still investigating, but at this time it appears to be accidental.” Noir’s washed-out pale blue eyes still burned at my Lord.
The other heirs breathed out then, myself included. Noir could suspect all he wanted, but that didn’t mean he’d be able to do anything about it.
The guard Noir had acknowledged stepped up to Noir, whispered something in his ear, then turned on his heel and retreated again.
Noir smiled humorlessly, still staring at Prince Oswald. “In the meantime, I’m told you should avoid the Oasian groundplums.”
Several people chuckled and a few darted nervous glances at my Lord. Conversation erupted again and the familiar low buzz returned to the dining room. Servants systematically removed the groundplums from the fruit bowls on the table. In one case, a half-eaten plum was taken from one heir’s hand as he stared at it in shock. Once the plum was removed, the poor man excused himself quickly and ran out of the room, presumably to remove any remnants of the groundplum from his stomach by force.
No wonder Noir was keeping an eye on my Lord. The emperor’s food poisoning came from a fruit specific to Oasis. Noir’s suspicion wasn’t completely unfounded, at least. It was ungrounded, though, since we brought no groundplums with us, much less gifted the emperor with any. Noir could hardly believe my Lord had all the groundplums destined for export poisoned on the off chance some would make it to Eternity III.
No, more likely it was just a bad batch, left too long in some anonymous star transporter’s hold somewhere. Noir would never find out how the emperor was poisoned, if that was the case, since it certainly wasn’t a deliberate act.
Noir still stood behind the emperor. I had expected him to fade into the shadows again after his pronouncement, but he just stood there, waiting patiently, staring hard at the assemblage. Eventually, other people noticed him there, too, and the sound level dropped to a whisper once again.
“And now for the bad news,” Noir said, smirking. “In light of the emperor’s ... delicate condition, the party tomorrow has been postponed indefinitely.”
Indefinitely? Surely we weren’t expected to wait around in New Rome forever, while Oasis fell apart in our absence. I knew that my Lord had complete faith in his personal legion, but even they couldn’t keep the peace forever, could they?
Pushing away my hardly touched breakfast, I glared at Lord Noir, but he didn’t seem to notice me at all.
“You are all free to return to your homes, of course,” said Noir, “and his majesty will contact you when he’s ready to make an announcement of his successor.”
Good. Time to go home, finally. We already knew who the emperor’s favorite was, anyway; what was the point in naming a successor outright? I’d analyzed the situation from all the angles I could see, and all of them seemed to end in some kind of war between the named heirs and all the others. Right now, we had our own war to stop, at home on Oasis.
Relief washed over me, followed quickly by anticipation for our return to Oasis. And to see Lady Redwing again and straighten out the current détente with my Lord.
“Yes, yes,” the emperor said from his chair. “It’s been a treat to have you all here. We must do this again soon.”
Emperor Seraphim struggled to his feet, helped by his favorite, Prince Vere. They began a slow procession out of the dining room, muttering all the way.
Willow glanced at me on her way out, a slightly pained expression I didn’t understand. Was she feeling guilty? Had she betraying my presence on the Raven? Or was it something
else entirely?
I couldn’t tell, so I tried to forget about her.
Lord Oswald laid a hand on my shoulder, and I realized he was standing already. He bent down and whispered in my ear, “You know she’s married, right?”
Wrenching my shoulder away from him, I glared up at my Lord defiantly before checking myself. He certainly wouldn’t have believed I’d have compromised the lady aboard the Raven, so his comment shouldn’t have been intentionally provocative. Relaxing forcibly, I tried to make my voice steady and innocently asked, “What do you mean?”
My Lord chuckled and bent to my ear again. “I see the way you look at Lady Vere, my boy. If you want her, you’ll have to be very careful. From the way she looks at you, I’d say she might be receptive with sufficient convincing, but Hunter won’t take kindly to being cuckolded.”
I decided not to press the point, figuring it would look more suspicious to try to refute the look my Lord had noticed. I nodded and smiled weakly, then got up to leave with my prince.
We hadn’t gotten very far when Lord Noir intercepted us, four guards flanking him. “Prince Oswald,” Noir said, grinning crookedly, as if what he was about to say was too pleasing to be allowed. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with you in private.”
“Really?” my Lord said. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the time right now. Oasis needs me immed—”
One of the guards smacked a hand into Lord Oswald’s chest, stopping him mid-stride, and another did the same to me. Though smaller than me, he looked stronger. I wasn’t sure that I could take him in a fair fight, although I was willing to try.
Fortunately, the prince’s two Angels came up quickly, burners drawn and aimed at the imperial guards. The guards responded in kind, but we were outnumbered. Standing amidst the group of drawn burners, I suddenly felt less able to take the guard, with him pointing a burner at my chest. Of course, without a weapon of my own, it was hardly a fair fight, either.
A bead of sweat trickled down my back, tickling me between my shoulder blades.
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