“What are you up to, you motherfucker?” Kiva said, out loud to herself. “And what is your family up to?” Because whatever Ghreni was up to, it was just part of some larger Nohamapetan plan. And whatever those assholes were up to, it was no good for anyone else, including the House of Lagos. Or the imperial House of Wu, for that matter. Or the Interdependency as a whole, come to think of it.
Kiva looked at that shuttle, a speck now, and wondered whether she shouldn’t just order the Yes, Sir’s defensive grid to launch a missile into it. Yes, there would be explaining to do. Yes, technically it would be murder. Yes, it would probably start a war between the House of Lagos and the House of Nohamapetan, which the House of Lagos, for all its power, would probably lose in the long run.
On the other hand, at this very moment, it would make Kiva feel really good.
Kiva reluctantly put down her tablet and decided to do something else with her time, a decision, by her own admission, that she would later come to regret.
Chapter
6
The coronation robes were heavy, the anointing oil smelled like it had gone bad a century ago, the crown dug into her forehead and chafed, she was sweating, the coronational liturgy was nearly an hour long, and to top it all off, Cardenia’s period had begun last night and right now her cramps were like someone with an iron glove had taken it, wrapped it around her uterus, and squeezed.
Yes, Coronation Day was going along just great for Emperox Grayland II, thanks for asking.
The cathedral in Xi’an—her cathedral, in point of fact, because in addition to being emperox she was the head of the Interdependent Church, technically the Cardinal of Xi’an and Hub, and thus had to have her own cathedral—was a vast space, made of stone and glass in the Early Interdependence style. Cardenia mused on the incongruity of a massive edifice of stone constructed inside of a space station, but not for too long, lest the incongruity of Xi’an entire, with its hills, streams, and forests, with administrative buildings, housing corridors, and commerce artfully tucked away to avoid the impression of clutter, send her into delirious giggles.
Xi’an Cathedral had room for thousands in its pews and today of all days those pews were filled. Representatives from all of the interdependent states, guild families, celebrities, and princes of the Interdependent Church looked on, presumably reverently, as Archbishop Gunda Korbijn droned through the liturgy. At one point Cardenia noted that Korbijn had a speaker set into her left ear canal, revealing that even the archbishop couldn’t be relied upon to know the entire ceremony by heart. This relieved Cardenia somewhat and made everything slightly more human-scaled.
Cardenia did not herself have a speaker in her ear, but then her role in the event was oddly limited: walk and sit. She had processed down the nave of Xi’an Cathedral in a relatively simple imperial green suit, stopped at the transept, and waited for Korbijn to offer her opening prayer and homily, and her invitation for Cardenia—for Grayland II, rather—to join her on the chancel. A stool for kneeling had been set in its center, above a mosaic of the imperial seal. Cardenia kneeled, bowed her head, and waited for things to be put on her by Korbijn and her assistants.
First, the aforementioned anointing oil, which almost made her gag with its smell. Then a ceremonial scarlet robe and a golden braid with a medallion, the braid being the symbol of the Interdependent Church and medallion featuring a phoenix, the personal symbol of the prophet. With that she was declared the cardinal of Xi’an and Hub, and thus, the head of the Interdependent Church.
Next came a key on a smaller golden chain, symbolizing access to the rooms of parliament, which resided at the other end of Xi’an from the imperial palace, symbolizing (in theory if not always in practice) the independence of the parliament from the emperox. This independence was in part belied by the fact that the emperox was always the minister of parliament for Xi’an, a seat that was generally considered honorary and ceremonial but which in fact had the same voting privileges as any other. It was tradition for the emperox to abstain from voting on any legislation, including legislation they were known to favor (legislation they disliked they would simply veto). But every once in a while an emperox would record a vote, to the scandal of the rank-and-file parliamentarians.
After the key came a signet ring, the size of a small rock, which symbolized Cardenia’s ascendance to the role of matriarch of the House of Wu. This was a role formally separate from Cardenia’s role as emperox; while the House of Wu was the imperial dynasty, it was also a guild family, with monopolies on starship construction and military weaponry and services. One could very easily say that the House of Wu was the imperial house because of these particular monopolies. As emperox, Cardenia would not be actively involved in the day-to-day running of the house monopolies; those would be administered by a board of cousins who would resent her interference. But she was the one with the Wu signet nonetheless, worn on the left hand to leave room for the imperial signet on the right.
Which came next, a ring even larger than the one for the House of Wu, along with a ceremonial scepter tipped with an emerald the size of a fist, and a crown of rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, signifying the church, the parliament, and the imperial house, which was heavy as hell and which started chafing Cardenia almost immediately. The scepter, crown, and signet also marked her as Queen of Hub and the Associated Nations, a lesser title. Cardenia also held dukedoms and earldoms and a few baronies which were salted away among the various interdependent states, which she would have almost nothing ever to do with directly.
For each step Korbijn said something ceremonial, said more as she was laying the object on Cardenia, and even more afterward, followed by a prayer or small homily, or both. After a certain early point Cardenia, sweating and cramping, started wishing that she could have just filed a form.
Korbijn turned and looked directly at Cardenia, and now, finally, she was required to do something besides kneel there.
“Arise, Grayland II, Emperox of the Holy Empire of the Interdependent States and Mercantile Guilds, Queen of Hub and Associated Nations, Head of the Interdependent Church, Successor to Earth and Mother of All, Eighty-eighth Emperox of the House of Wu, and proclaim your reign,” Korbijn said, and then stood aside.
Cardenia took a breath and rose, using the scepter briefly to stabilize herself, the first and possibly last time the scepter would offer any practical use. Upon the completion of the ceremony, all the accouterment of the coronation would be (thankfully) stripped off her and sent back into their storage vault, to await the next coronation of the next emperox, whomever they might be. But for now they lay heavy on her.