“Are you going to try and stop me or not?”
“The wobble, my boy. I never touch it once I have it going. You go, do what you must. I am only here now to watch. To see if I can catch a glimpse at the face behind the invisible hand.”
She was confused, baffled by Yolric’s unconcerned attitude, but it did not matter; what did was that he would not interfere. Her greatest obstacle was gone. Now it was just between her and Venlin.
“Goodbye, then, old master, for I fear I shall never see you again.”
“No, you won’t. I would wish you luck, but I do not believe it exists. Still, I suspect you have better than mere luck on your side—you have the invisible hand.”
CHAPTER 14
THE COLD
The ceiling of the grand imperial throne room was a dome painted to mimick the sky on a gentle summer’s day, and Modina still thought it beautiful. Dressed once more in her formal gown, she sat on the gaudy bird-of-prey throne with the wings, spread into a vast half circle, forming the back of the chair. The throne was mounted on a dais that had twelve steps to climb. She could not help remembering the days they had forced her to practice before it.
“Do you remember the board you ordered sewn into my dress?” she asked Nimbus, who looked suddenly uncomfortable.
“It worked,” he replied.
“Who’s next?”
Nimbus studied the parchment in his hands. “Bernard Green, a candlemaker from Alburn.”
“Send him in, and get another log on the fire. It’s freezing in here.”
Unlike the great hall, the throne room was rarely used, or at least that had been the case until now. When the empress had been a mythical creature, the room had been sealed. Now that she existed in the flesh, the room was opened once more, but it always felt cold, as if it would take time to recover the warmth after those years of neglect.
Nimbus waved to the clerk, and a moment later, a short, soft-looking man entered. His eyes were small, his nose narrow and sharp. Modina immediately thought of a squirrel and recalled how she used to remember the court of Ethelred by similar associations before she learned their names.
“Your Grand Imperial Eminence,” he said with a shaky voice, and bowed so low his forehead touched the floor.
They all waited. He did not move.
“Ah—please stand up,” she told him. The man popped up like a child’s toy, but he refused to look at her. They all did that. She found it irritating but understood it was a tradition and it would be even more unnerving for them to try to change. “Speak.”
“Ah—Grand Imperial Eminence—I, ah—that is—ah—I am from Alburn, and I—am a candlemaker.”
“Yes, I know that, but what is your problem?”
“Well, Your Grand Imperial Eminence, since the edict, I have moved my family here, but—you see—I have little means and no skills other than making candles, but the merchant guild refuses to grant me a license of business. I am told that I cannot have one as I am not a citizen.”
“Of course,” Nimbus said. “Citizenship is a prerequisite for applying to a guild and only guild members are allowed to conduct a trade within the city.”
“How does one obtain citizenship?” Modina asked.
“Usually by inheritance, although it can be granted to individuals or families as recognition for some extraordinary service. Regardless, one must be a member of a guild to gain citizenship.”
“But if you need to be a guild member to apply for citizenship and you need to be a citizen to be a guild member, doesn’t that make it extraordinarily difficult to become a citizen?”
“I believe that is the point, Your Eminence. Cities guard against invasions from outside tradesmen that might disrupt the order of established merchants and reduce the profitability of existing businesses.”
“How many citizens are there?”
“At present, I believe about ten to fifteen percent of the city’s population are citizens.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Yes, Your Eminence. It’s also a drain on the treasury, because only citizens are required to pay taxes. Also, only citizens have the right of a trial in a court, or are required to serve to protect the city walls in the event of attack.”
Modina stared at him.
“Shall I summon the city’s merchant council and organize a meeting in order to review the guild policy, say, tomorrow?” Nimbus asked.
“Please do.” She looked back down at Bernard Green. “Rest assured I will address this matter immediately, and thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
“Bless you, Your Grand Imperial Eminence, bless you.” He bowed once more with his head to the floor.
Modina waved her hand and the master-at-arms escorted him out. “I don’t so much mind the bowing—that’s actually nice. It’s the scraping I can’t stand.”
“You are not just the empress,” Nimbus told her. “You are a demigod. You must expect a little scraping.”
“Who’s next?”