“Your office is so… clean,” the professor remarked.
Saldur raised an eyebrow and then chuckled. “Oh yes, I seem to recall visiting you once. I don’t believe I made it through your door.”
“I have a unique filing system.”
“Lore master, I don’t mean to be short, but we are quite busy,” Ethelred said. “Exactly what has brought you so far in the cold?”
“Well,” he began, smiling at Saldur, “Your Grace, I was hoping to speak to you—in private.” He glanced pointedly at the two men he did not recognize. “I have a sensitive matter to discuss concerning the future of the empire.”
“This is Sentinel Luis Guy and over there is Lord Merrick Marius. I assume you already know our soon-to-be emperor, Ethelred. If you wish to discuss the empire’s future, these are the men you need to speak with.”
Arcadius paused deliberately, took off his spectacles, and cleaned them slowly with his sleeve. “Very well, then.” The lore master replaced his glasses and crossed the room to one of the soft chairs. “Do you mind? Standing for too long makes my feet hurt.”
“By all means,” Ethelred said sarcastically. “Make yourself at home.”
Arcadius sat down with a sigh, took a deep breath, and began. “I have been thinking about the New Empire you are establishing, and I must say that I approve.”
Ethelred snorted. “Well, Sauly, we can sleep better now that the scholars have weighed in.”
Arcadius glared at him across the tops of his glasses. “What I mean is that the idea of a central authority is a sound one and will stop the monarchial squabbles, bringing harmony from chaos.”
“But?” Saldur invited.
“But what?”
“I just sensed you were going to find fault,” Saldur said.
“I am, but please try not to get ahead of me—it ruins the drama. I’ve spent several days bouncing over frozen ground, preparing for this meeting, and you deserve to experience the full effect.”
Arcadius adjusted his sleeves and waited for what he thought was the precise amount of time to draw their full attention. “I’m curious to know if you’ve put any thought into the line of succession.”
“Succession?” Ethelred blurted from where he sat on the edge of Saldur’s desk.
“Yes, you know, the concept of producing an heir to inherit the mantle of leadership. Most thrones are lost because of poor planning on this front.”
“I’m not even crowned, and you complain because I haven’t fathered an heir yet?”
Arcadius sighed. “It is not your heir I am concerned about. This empire is founded on a bedrock of faith—faith that the bloodline of Novron is back on the throne. If the bloodline is not maintained, the cohesion that holds the empire together might dissolve.”
“What are you saying?” Ethelred asked.
“Only that should something tragic happen to Modina, and no child of her blood be available, you would lose your greatest asset. The line of Novron would end, and without this thin strand of legitimacy, the empire could face dissolution. Glenmorgan’s Empire lasted only three generations. How long will this one endure with only a mere mortal at its head?”
“What makes you think anything will happen to the empress?”
Arcadius smiled. “Let’s just say I know the ways of the world, and sacrifices are often required to bring about change. I’m here because I fear you might mistakenly think Modina is expendable once Ethelred wears the crown. I want to urge you not to make a terrible, perhaps fatal, error.”
Saldur exchanged looks with Ethelred, confirming that the lore master had guessed correctly.
“But there is nothing to fear, gentlemen, for I’ve come to offer a solution.” Arcadius gave them his most disarming smile, which accentuated the laugh lines around his eyes and showed off his round cheeks, which he guessed were still rosy from his trip. “I am proposing that Modina already bore a child.”
“What?” Ethelred asked. He stood and his face showed a mixture of emotions. “Are you accusing my fiancée—the empress—of impropriety?”
“I am saying that if she had a child—a child born a few years ago and no longer dependant on the mother—it could make your lives a great deal easier. It would ensure the continued unification of the empire under the bloodline of Novron.”
“Speak plainly, man!” Ethelred erupted. “Are you suggesting such a child exists?”
“I am saying such a child could exist.” He looked at each of their faces before focusing back on Saldur. “Modina is no more the Heir of Novron than I am, but that is not relevant. The only thing that matters is what her subjects believe. If they accept she has a child, then the pretense of the heir can continue and the masses will be satisfied. After ensuring the line of succession, an unfortunate incident involving the empress would not be such a tragedy. Her people would certainly mourn her, but there would still be hope—hope in the form of a child who would one day take the throne.”
“You bring up an interesting point, Professor,” Ethelred said. “Modina has… been ill as of late, but I’m sure she could hang on long enough to bear a child, couldn’t she, Sauly?”
“I don’t see why not. Yes. We could arrange that.”
The lore master shook his head as if hearing an incorrect response from one of his students. “But what if she were to die in childbirth? It happens far too often and is too great a risk for something as important as this. Do you really wish to gamble all you are trying to accomplish? A child conceived before the empress even knew Ethelred would not reflect poorly on him. There are ways to present the child that would bolster the new emperor’s standing. He can profess that his love for Modina is boundless and agree to raise the child as if it were his own. Such sentiments would endear him to the people.”
Arcadius waited a minute before continuing. “Take a healthy child and educate it in philosophy, theology, poetry, history, and mathematics. Fill the vessel with training in civics, economics, and culture. Make the child the most learned leader the world has ever known. Picture the possibilities. Imagine the potential of an empire ruled by an intellectual giant rather than the thug with the biggest stick.
“If you want a better empire, you need to create a better ruler. I can provide this. I can bring you a child that I have already begun to educate and will continue to groom. I can raise the child at Sheridan, away from life at court. We don’t want a spoiled brat, pampered from birth, swinging little legs on the imperial throne. What we need is a strong, compassionate leader without ties to the nobility.”
“One you control,” Luis Guy accused.