“We have already done so, Your Eminence. We shall observe the traditional five days.”
“Very good,” Korbijn said, giving no sign of fluster at being interrupted. “During that time you yourself will unfortunately be quite busy.” She nodded to Bishop Vear of Hub, sitting to Cardenia’s right, who produced a leather folder and from it, a thick sheaf of papers, and offered them to Cardenia. “We have produced a proposed schedule for you, to assist you. It includes a number of briefings, plus formal and informal meetings with the guilds, parliament, and the church.”
Cardenia took the papers but did not look at them, handing them over to Naffa, standing behind her chair. “We thank you.”
“We wish to assure you that during this time of transition, everything will be handled smoothly and with the utmost care and respect. We know this is a difficult time for you, and much of this is new. We want to be able to help you transition smoothly into your new role, Your Majesty.”
You want to help me transition, or to manage me? “Once more, we thank you, Archbishop. We are warmed by your concern and solicitousness.”
“We have other concerns as well,” said Lenn Edmunk, one of the guild representatives. The House of Edmunk held the commercial monopolies on cows and pigs and all products deriving thereof, from milk to pig leather. “Your father left unresolved a number of issues with the guilds, including monopoly transfers and trade route clearances.”
Cardenia noted Archbishop Korbijn pursing her lips; clearly Edmunk was speaking out of turn. “We have been led to understand that these matters must be sent through parliament, then for us to give our assent or refusal.”
“Your father gave assurances these matters would be dealt with, Your Majesty.”
“Would this be in a way that circumvents the privileges of parliament, Lord Edmunk?”
“Of course not, ma’am,” Edmunk said, after a moment.
“We are glad to hear that. One of the things we would like not to do at this early juncture is to give the parliament the opinion that their role is merely an advisory one, subject to the whims of the emperox.” She turned to Upeksha Ranatunga, the ranking parliamentarian on the committee, seated to her left, who nodded her thanks. “Our father believed in the balance of power that has allowed the Interdependency to thrive: the parliament for the laws and justice; the guilds for trade and prosperity; the church for spirituality and community. And above them, the emperox, mother of all, for order.”
“With that said, ma’am—”
“Do not forget that the House of Wu also has a guild,” Cardenia said, interrupting Edmunk, who was clearly put out by this point. “We would not thereby discount the interests of the guilds. We are also mother of the church and a simple member of parliament. We have interest in all, to be fair to all. We shall address guild matters in their time, Lord Edmunk. But we are not our father. His assurances to you are not unheard. But neither am I bound to them. I am emperox now, not my father.”
There, Cardenia thought, and stared levelly at Edmunk. Suck on that for a while.
Edmunk dropped his head in a bow. “Ma’am,” he said.
“With regard to parliament, ma’am, there is another, serious issue,” Ranatunga said. “Word has come to us that the rebellion on End has moved to a new and more dangerous phase. The Duke of End has sent assurances that everything is under control, but the assessment of the Imperial Marines commander stationed there is rather less optimistic. He expects the duke to fall within two standard years. Of course this note was sent nine months ago. Who knows what the situation there is now.”
“Have our marines intervened?”
“It was your father’s policy, and the policy of the several emperoxs before him, to let End handle End. The marines are mostly there to keep anyone from leaving the planet without permission. The commander tells us the only watch they have set from the emperox—the previous emperox—was to monitor the safety of the Count of Claremont.”
“Who is that?”
“I remember him, ma’am,” Korbijn said. “A minor noble from Sofala, whom your father enlarged. A friend of your father’s from university. A physicist who studied the Flow.”
“Why did our father exile him?”
“Your father offered the title to him just prior to his marriage to the Lady Glenna.”
Well, that was an unsubtle hint, Cardenia thought. The archbishop was all but implying that her dad and this count were an item prior to Batrin’s marriage, which was very much one of those dynastical marriages, the House of Costu heading one of the most powerful guilds.
The idea was mildly surprising to Cardenia, since in all the time she knew her father, he never came across as anything other than blandly heterosexual. But there was a time and place for everything, and it was called “university,” and in any event this count wouldn’t be the first inconvenient lover an emperox shunted out of the picture with a title upgrade, somewhere very far away. It would also explain the marine watch.
Cardenia nodded her understanding. “For now we will continue our father’s posture, but we will want a full briefing.”
“It’s one of the briefings listed on your proposed schedule,” Korbijn said. “And while we are at least tangentially on the subject of marriage—”
“You are going to bring up Amit Nohamapetan, aren’t you?” Cardenia said, in a somewhat less formal tone than she’d previously been managing.
“The Nohamapetans are being insistent,” Korbijn said, almost apologetically.
“We are not our brother. We made no assurances to marry a Nohamapetan.”
“With respect, ma’am, the House of Nohamapetan believes the assurance was not between your brother and Lady Nadashe, it was between the House of Wu and the House of Nohamapetan. And precedent suggests their argument has validity. In 512, Crown Princess Davina was engaged to a member of the House of Edmunk and died before the wedding. Her brother, who would become Chonglin I, married a cousin of the original betrothed on the reasoning that the arrangement had already been set into motion.”
Cardenia turned to Naffa. “How did Crown Princess Davina die?”
“Suicide, your majesty,” Naffa said. Cardenia knew that she would know off the top of her head, or would look it up instantly. “Out of an airlock at Xi’an. Her suicide note suggests she did not believe the betrothal to be in her best interests.”
Cardenia turned to Lenn Edmunk. “We hope you do not believe this sets you in any negative light, Lord Edmunk.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am, may I also suggest to you that you at least consider Amit Nohamapetan’s suit,” Korbijn persisted. “Aside from any theoretical agreement between your houses, the House of Nohamapetan is a power among the guilds.” Korbijn glanced over at Edmunk, who, as he was looking at the emperox, was unaware. “Many potential problems and issues with the guilds could be dealt with expeditiously with this alliance.”
Cardenia smiled grimly at this. “And there are no houses who object to this pairing?”
“No, ma’am,” Edmunk said.
“Well,” Cardenia said, impressed. “This is a rare show of unanimity among the guilds. Almost unprecedented in a millennium.”
“I believe everyone agrees it is in the interest of the Interdependency to have any questions of succession settled sooner than later,” Korbijn said.
This rankled Cardenia. “We are pleased, Archbishop, that this committee appears unanimous that the most important part of us is our uterus.”
Korbijn had the good grace to blush at this. “Apologies, Your Majesty. Nothing could be further from the truth. But surely the emperox must be aware that should something happen to you, there will be contesting claims to the throne within the House of Wu from your many cousins. Many of them were less than pleased when you were—rightfully—put into the line of succession behind your brother. A clear line of succession staves off any questions.”