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Csethiro Ceredin, daughter of the house Ceredada, stood in her father's study in their apartments at the Untheilenesie Court, and could think of no better thing to say than "Surely thou must be joking."
"Daughter, I would not joke on this, for thou wouldst not believe me," her father held the letter that had arrived via page. Csethiro had noticed the page, but she had assumed it was Csoru being self-important about her status as the now-Widow Empress, and the right to have servants in Drazhadeise livery at her beck and call.
But that was not Csoru's seal impressed in the wax of the unopened letter on her father's desk, and the letters and come to her father, and now Csethiro was being told that the Emperor Edrehasivar the Seventh Drazhar, two-hundred ninth emperor of the Elflands, had requested her hand in marriage.
"You," and her switch to formal was deliberate, "had promised us that we would have some say in our marriage." Truly, he did not have to. No noblewoman could have married without the say of her father, or the head of her house. Even a man would have some difficulty. It had been a sop to Csethiro's plots as a sullen youth to run away to attend the university in Ashedro under an assumed name. Truly, looking back, they were foolish plans of a girl who had little understanding of how those who were not the daughters of nobility lived, but they would have caused a great deal of trouble for herself and her sisters. Easier to persuade Csethiro that, should she identify a likely suitor, her father would make what inquiries he could to the suitor's family.
She knew the dance, had seen how those of her circle navigated it, or failed to. As long as women were bound to fathers and husbands, what scholarship they could produce depended on finding a complimentary husband. But no one had reckoned on a new eighteen-year old and unmarried Emperor, whose nearest male relative was still a boy.
"He is the Emperor," her father said stiffly. "One does not say no to the Emperor. Varenechibel had a long memory for slights; no doubt his son does as well."
Csethiro could cite at least a dozen examples, without trying. But it did require skill at politics, a sturdy backbone, and some leverage, and she believed her father had none of those. In truth, she was not so delicate herself, though she had at least cultivated no small degree of will. "If you will not, we could do so ourself. He would not be the first man at court to lower his opinion of us"
That drew her father's attention. "Csethiro, as thy father, we forbid thee from doing so. This could be our family's chance, or its doom. Thou will say nothing to discourage this."
"We will say nothing, then." Csethiro said simply. "Since it is our voice that you so seem to fear." She was being childish and spiteful, but she was sick of being treated as a child still in leading strings, simply because she had not yet wed. "Are we dismissed, Father?"
"One moment." Her father extended a sealed envelope across the desk. Csethiro took it, observing the cat-serpent seal. She did not know the Emperor's personal device, but the cat marked it as a member of the Drazhada. "A personal message was also included, from the Emperor's own hand."
Which, of course, meant she had to read and respond to it. "Then, we believe we have a letter to answer, Father."
Csethiro considered what she knew of Edrehasivar Zhas. She had attended his coronation, of course, and new he was a handful of years younger than her, and had been relegated to some backwater by the emperor Varenechibel the Fifth, his father. Certainly, that could mean little by itself. Her father's opinion of the Drazhada was shaped by the relegation of Csethiro's great-aunt, Varenechibel's first wife, after all. She could not imagine what a child could do to displease an emperor; the court's theories were centered on some manner of deformity or defect, but Csethiro had observed none. Or at least, the Emperor had been able to attend his coronation and the public life of the court with few outward problems that could not be explained by ignorance.
But there was the letter. It was short, and decidedly in the Emperor's personal hand. It gave the impression of someone who had not written often enough outside of the schoolroom to develop an adult's fluid penmanship. The contents were insipid, and also uncomfortably raw in the way that children could be. Had it not the Emperor's seal, and was delivered by a page, she would believe it was written by the Prince of the Untheilenesie Court, not his uncle.
Csethiro had wrote a generic reply, as her father had commanded her to go along, but not to engender any warm feelings in the Emperor, and had been ready to give the sealed letter to her father as part of his more formal reply informing the Emperor that of course the Ceredada were delighted, and such, when a maid cleared her throat. "My lady? Your lord father wishes to inform you that the Ethuverazhid Zhasanai was waiting in the sitting room, desiring your company."
Damn. Well, that was one way to make this day even more impossible. Csethiro could barely tolerate Csoru on days when she was feeling generous. When she already wanted to shake someone, her interactions with Csoru would be the toy horse incident repeated. And her father's ill temper meant she could not find a pretense to be ill or not at home. She'd even finished the damned letter to the Emperor, so she didn't even have that excuse. "How considerate of her to arrive in person, without sending a card ahead," she muttered. But she stood from her desk, leaving the letter there, and accompanied the maid.
Csoru was, as always, immaculately dressed. She did not rise from where she was seated, but did smile, in such a way that had only a superficial relationship to sincerity. "Csethiro, dear, I came as soon as I heard the news."
Good. Etiquette meant Csoru was being 'thy childhood friend', not Csoru Zhasan. At least for now, as Csoru was quite willing to change the confines of the discussion when she thought it favored her. And Csoru was not so stupid as to be unaware that, while the Marquess Ceredel might see Csoru as his heart-brother's darling daughter, Csethiro thought she was petty and uninteresting. "What news dost thou speak of, Csoru?" While the Emperor's household was separate from the other Drazhadas', it was not surprising that rumors would head to Csoru first. It was still possible this was unrelated.
"I understand it is not official, but that Edrehasivar has started negotiations with your father for your hand in marriage," Csoru said as Csethiro sat down, arranging her skirts as an excuse to avoid the answer.
"So I have been informed by my father," Csethiro said. No sense encouraging Csoru to talk; she would do that herself. And any attempt to not make the conversation about whatever Csoru wished it to be would lead to her sulking. Which didn't bother Csethiro, but Csoru didn't go off to sulk in her apartments; she insisted on doing so in public. And Csethiro couldn't send her away, though at this point, it was not as if she could gain any ore favor at court by being polite to her.
"I wished to offer you my congratulations, and," the pause and frown Csoru gave here was affected, as so much of Csoru's mannerisms could be. "Well, if thou art pleased, I do not wish to ruin your good fortune."
Phrased in such a way that forces me to ask her to, Csethiro thought. "Csoru, I have always asked you to speak plainly to me." Because I have no patience for such games.
"Well, the Ceredada were not in the Emperor -- that is, Varenechibel's -- favor, despite my own humble attempts, so thou might not know more than rumor," and here, Csethiro waved a hand impatiently for Csoru to get on with it. "But, I knew of what he thought of his youngest son. And I have had dealings with Edrehasivar myself."
Csethiro had known that Csoru was not fond of the current Emperor, but indirectly: Csethiro was not a person for which one sought out sympathy, even when she was a friend. She waited for Csoru to continue.
"Thou knowst of course, he was relegated to somewhere in the western marshes. My late husband had to do so, as he took after his mother. Goblins are superstitious barbarians with all sorts of improper ideas. He is nothing like his father."
"I have also been told that I have 'all sorts of improper ideas'," Csethiro noted wryly.
"Well, of course I do not mean ideas like thou hast," Csoru said impatiently. "Thou are not a barbarian. And thy bloodline is not degenerate." Csethiro toyed with a number of responses to that. "But thou canst see it in his actions. He ran off to Cetho on the first day of his arrival, when he should have been in mourning for his family, and he had some prelate doing who even knows what to the bodies of his father and brothers. And he has ruined the negotiations for his sister's marriage."
"Has he?" Csethiro had known that the Archduchess Vedero had been concerned about marriage prospects... mostly that any daughter of the Emperor would have far too little choice on the nature of her marriage. In truth, even if done in incompetence, she could not find fault with the results.
"Thou art not listening," Csoru sulked. "I am trying to warn thee."
"To what end? I have promised my father that I would accept his judgement in this matter." Csethiro could not keep the bitterness out of her voice.
"Well, thou art quite clever," Csoru said. "And I will help you, if you wish it." Csoru was being far too complimentary to her. Which spoke to the sincerity of her motives -- that she wished to, at the least, cause drama and gossip about the marriage -- if not her honestly. "The Emperor does not favor my advice. He would rather consult with mystics and Arbalan Drazhar"
And, that, Csethiro thought, was his greatest crime of all. Edrehasivar the Seventh could be the return of Edrevenivar the Conquerer, and Csoru's opinion would be based solely on how he treated her. Similarly, it would not matter if Edrehasivar was an inbred mad barbarian goblin if he liked Csoru. "I must think on it, Csoru." She snorted. "I have not had to match wits with an Emperor before."
"It will not be that much of a battle," Csoru commented.
Csethiro twitched an ear, acknowledging but not agreeing. There was a difference between a single man and the man plus his title, if only because the whole of the Elflands supported the system of the nobility. But there were factions in court, and she knew Csoru's set were not the only ones disconcerted by Edrehasivar. "If thou will leave me to consider this, then."
"Oh, very well. But do inform me of your thoughts," she said, standing and taking Csethiro's hands, in a gesture that was far too friendly for Csethiro's inclinations.
After Csoru and left, Csethiro returned to the desk, a small niggle at the edge of her thoughts. So, the Emperor favored his father's first wife, Csethiro's great-aunt and the inadvertent cause of her father and grandfather's distrust of the Drazhada. She found some of her cheaper paper and a graphite stick, and started drafting a letter. It would be interesting to meet her great-aunt, and her father could hardly disapprove if the Emperor himself approved.
Of course, a proposal was not even a marriage contract. Csethiro did not have much to say in the negotiations, and her father was content to leave her out of it once she made her disinterest known. It was a distasteful practice, far too much like the buying and selling of slaves rather than negotiating an alliance. And, again, it was not as if anyone expected her father to say 'no', or Csethiro to say anything at all. The signing of the contract and exchange of oath-rings was simple enough, and Csethiro kept to her quiet 'I am doing my duty and nothing else' self, but she did decide to use her preferred signature in the barzhad. If I must be forced into this, she thought, I will take what rebellion I can. And, in truth, it was the more practiced of her signatures.
But being the Emperor's fiancée meant that she was also expected to socialize beyond her circle of scholars. And, it was not as if her father considered 'I have just received this new treaties of the reign of Belthanthiar the Third' an acceptable excuse. She did not even consider asking about the rather cheap historical romances she also favored.
A rather large number of the events were hosted by Nuravis Chavar, who had convinced the Emperor that they were friends, no doubt on his father's orders. From what Csethiro knew of politics, this friendship did not seem to be inclining Edrehasivar towards the Lord Chancellor's policies. Nor had it won Osmer Chavar's cousin, Osmin Loran Duchenin, the Emperor's hand in marriage. Perhaps Osmer Chavar's simply enjoyed having the favor of the Emperor, without using it for more than further spectacle at his gatherings.
Csethiro and Osmin Duchenin made a studious effort to avoid one another, facilitated by their circles of friends. Osmin Duchenin had no shortage ill feelings about how the would-be courtship had ended up, even if Csethiro had done nothing to encourage the Emperor. She must lay that at her own feet, or that of her uncle, Csethiro thought. But clearly Osmer Chavar did not wish to host an argument between the young women of the court, especially in the Emperor's presence. It would not be the way he wished his parties to be spoken of.
During those events, the Emperor drifted like a shadow clad in white, with his two nohecharei the shadow's shadows. If there was dancing, he sat at the edge of the floor and watched. If there were dinner, he ate in silence as conversation flowed around him. For regular conversation, he could be observed to be listening, certainly, but seemed to make few attempts to speak, or seek out company. He had earned the sobriquet 'Edrehasivar Half-Tongue' from his seeming inability to say more than simple platitudes. Csethiro was quietly relieved, however. So far, the Emperor had only spoken to her briefly, and she could rely on her polished court manners for those interactions. She knew it could not last. Eventually, I must have a conversation with him, unless I wish this to become my life, she thought.
Tonight's event was a performance, and Csethiro had nearly left. The soprano from Zhaö was quite skilled, and was no doubt at court to seek patronage. Equally apparent was that Edrehasivar was infatuated with her, as the performance drew his attention in ways that Csethiro had otherwise not observed. It was one of the few times in which he did not seem to fade into the background, despite his distinctive appearance and status... perhaps because he is no longer trying to. But the infatuation and Edrehasivar's complete lack of artistry at concealing it got under her skin like sand. Especially as he had greeted her briefly when she had arrived, so she knew he was in the room.
Csethiro made a pointed attempt -- not that she thought Edrehasivar noticed -- of attending to her own circle of friends that evening, but the effort meant she only listened to conversation with half an ear. "Beg pardon?" she asked, having heard her name.
"Have you met Vanet Valnar? We were telling him," Osmin Eshan Lezhanin said, "that you were quite the authority on the history of the throne."
"It would depend on what period," Csethiro answered honestly. Modesty was becoming in a young lady, but it was simply that she had studied enough of the history of the Elflands to know that no one person could be an authority on the subject. "But one must have at least a grasp on the whole to focus in on the parts."
"We were wondering," Osmer Valnar said, "if you knew much about the case of Belvesena the Fifth. We had heard it mentioned."
Csethiro considered the case. Not a time period which she had focused her attention on. If she recalled, it had been a period of great unrest, because... "You speak of the Princes insisting that he not allow his eldest son to take the throne, as the child was sickly?" She had blurted out the most memorable fact of the reign, before realizing the implications. "Not a popular idea; few Emperors enjoy having to concede power to the Princes." And it had not come to much; the Archduke Ailanet had died before his father, and Belvesena's brother had ascended the throne.
"But it is a precedent that one does not simply follow the accepted succession," Osmer Valnar persisted.
"Scant precedent, as it was not acted on," Csethiro said quickly. "We are curious in this sudden fashion for history, though, Osmer Valnar. We have always enjoyed our studies, but we are aware we were considered an eccentric for it." And she suspected that she knew why such a thing was happening. Prince Idra looked far more like the ideal of the Emperor than Edrehasivar did, if one ignored that he was fourteen. "If you are interested in history, perhaps the case of Beltanthiar the Fifth?" It was, perhaps, the most notorious case of a child-emperor not living to see his majority. If Osmer Valnar did not get even that hint, Csethiro would have to be blunt: 'We do not think the Ethuveraz needs a third emperor within a period of a year, and most likely either a fourth or a civil war as the Drazhadeise cousins fight it out, even if it were not treason to depose a seated emperor'.
But her conversation partners did get the hint. Osmer Valnar colored. Osmin Lezhanin flicked her ears back, and said, "Come now, Csethiro, thou cannot tell me that 'this' is for the good of the Elflands." She gestured, to where Edrehasivar (again) was chatting with the opera singer. Or, rather, the reverse.
Csethiro did not have words, at least not for those two. And she knew her own face was coloring. She took a deep breath, drew herself up, and said. "Your point is noted. We find that we are feeling a bit tired. If you will excuse us."
She held it together to not storm the Emperor's corner; she had a feeling that, fiancée or not, the nohecharei would potentially consider her a threat. She even gave a perfectly respectable curtsey -- not a bow, as Csoru was trying to make fashionable for ladies. But she would no longer hold her tongue. "Serenity, Min Vechin is using you."
Without blinking, Edrehasivar replied neutrally. "Of course she is."
Csethiro had expected protestations, or more awkward silence, not the blunt assessment.
"How stupid you must believe us to be, to think we are unable to discern that for ourself. We thank you." It was curt, and bitter, and it occurred to Csethiro then that Edrehasivar has to be aware of the court gossip that portrayed him as a stammering idiot and barbarian. And she had assumed that court gossip was the truth, despite experience. She flushed again, and managed a passible apology, and stood, to face whatever consequence she had earned. And, of course, Father will not believe that I did this without thinking of its effect on my marriage.
Edrehasivar neither sent her away, nor acknowledged her apology, and eventually she had to meet his eyes. If I had been so badly misled by Csoru and court gossip, I may as well take steps to learn the truth. She knew from historical documents that what was said did not have to be the truth, but it could at least inform the picture more than second-hand reports. "Since we have disgraced ourself already, we may as well ask: if you know she is using you, Serenity, why do you accept it?"
"She is very beautiful," he said. Csethiro noted it was a reason, but not the only one. There was no shortage of beautiful women in the room. But something occurred to her. "And she has the sense not to frighten you. We should take lessons from her, we see." She could see Edrehasivar react to her as if her words were a blow, which was, if anything, an unspoken affirmation of the truth she found. She curtseyed again, and bid her farewell with, "Serenity, we do not wish you to be frightened of us."
Later, Csethiro thought of apologizing. Briefly. The problem was, she was not sorry to have seen a truth in her fiancé that she was going to have to come to terms with, even if it clearly discomforted him. She might regret having spoken so in public, but she could not figure out a way to apologize for that without calling her fiancé a coward.
And I do not think he is, she thought. It is hard enough to come to court with an adult's expectations, let alone those of an Emperor. It was a perfectly reasonable fear of having others manipulate you in the complexity that was the Untheilenesie Court. Better the company of people like Osmer Chavar and Min Vechin, who, so far, only wished the increase in profile that came of being friendly with the Emperor. And Csethiro didn't have a way to tell Edrehasivar that she had no desire to play court games except for her own survival and that of her friends. Most of the half-formed thoughts along those lines came down to 'we only agreed to marry you because our father insisted we could not turn down the Emperor', and Csethiro imagined that message would go over worse than if she called him a coward.
At least she knew he was not stupid, simply understandably ignorant. And Csethiro had sympathy for coming to terms with ignorance: her circle of friends was full of young women who had fought back every attempt to keep them ignorant of 'inappropriate' things. the problem was, she did not know how to broach the subject with Edrehasivar, and she certainly did not think he would wish to speak to her again for some time after that party.
She had gotten the story of the marriage negotiations from Vedero, finally. Without her encounter with Edrehasivar, they would have looked childish and naive. Perhaps they still were. On the other hand, Edrehasivar seemed to be one of the few men at court who had observed what many of the young women let it be known; that while marriage to a duke's heir may offer all manner of political advantage, no one trusted that it would be kind to the prospective duchess to be married to Eshevis Tethimar. Especially if one had more ambitions than producing a suitable number of sons as quickly as possible and otherwise being silent and unobserved. Csethiro still had only seen Paru Tethimin once, and wasn't sure if she'd been sent off back to the Tethimadeise estates once a scared fourteen year old was insufficient to win the Emperor's interest. No doubt she would return only once Prince Idra's marriage was considered.
And, yet, she had not worked up the courage to seek another encounter with Edrehasivar. Csethiro was used to easily-intimidated men, but most courtiers would bluster or condescend when threatened, not show the frozen silence of Edrehasivar. She admitted she was at a loss.
Then, perhaps a week before the court would start its Winternight celebrations with a visit from the Great Avar of Barazhan, the entire household was aroused in the middle of the night. Rather than wait in her room, Csethiro ordered the maid to fetch a dressing gown. No doubt someone would stop her before a stranger saw her, but she would come as close as possible.
She came close enough to observe a pair of Untheilenesie Guard, arguing with her father, who had barely more suitable clothing on than she did. She gestured to a servant. "My lady, should-"
"Probably, yes. What's happening?"
"They say the Emperor's been abducted and-"
Well, that made it her business, now, didn't it? Setting modesty aside, she strode forward. Her father only registered her pretense when the guards gave her a shocked look. "Daughter, what-"
Csethiro ignored him and focused on the guard that seemed to be in charge. "We wish to know what has happened to our fiancé?" She was angry, yes, but she could also not help a stab of fear. And what bitter irony that just as she had decided that Edrehasivar may be someone she could tolerate if he would stop being frightened of her, that she feared for his safety.
"His Serenity is... unharmed, my lady," the guard said. "Captain Orthema wished to send someone to check on you."
"Well, you can see we are also unharmed," Csethiro answered. "But you did not answer our question. What has happened to our fiancé that sends guards to assure us that we are unharmed?"
The guard glanced around. "We suppose you were not involved. You see, my lady, the Princess Sheveän..."
And that was how it came out that an attempted coup was committed that night, by the Princess and the Lord Chancellor, on behalf of Prince Idra (though, it seemed, without his knowledge). Csethiro's own liminal state to the Drazhada meant that she may have been not the victim as she had assumed, but the suspect. May still be, depending on the investigation. Her father clearly thought so, as she could see his hands twist against the cuffs of his dressing-gown. Varenechibel was known for making such wide judgements. Csethiro did not think Edrehasivar was. "Well," she said, "now that we have assured you all is well here, we will return to our chambers. We shall contact our fiancé in the morning for more personal assurances."
"Yes, that would be wise," her father said quickly.
But anger meant that Csethiro could not sleep until she had wrote the letter, and wrote it honestly. It only occurred to her later, after it was sent out to be delivered, that perhaps threatening the Princess Sheveän with a sword and all but stating that Csethiro herself knew how to use one (at least, for dueling) was probably not the way to not scare her fiancé.
She still could not interpret Edrehasivar's response but, if she took it as sincere and not mocking a woman who thought she was a duelist out of a historical novel or a wonder-tale, she did not frighten him. It had given her an idea: sincerity was not necessarily frightening in the court, where so many were moving through a complex web of relationships and agendas and goals. And Csethiro could be sincere far more easily than she could be manipulative.
And, so, when Edrehasivar called her over to speak to him, on the occasion of his grandfather's arrival at the Untheilenesie Court, she tried sincerity. First in the apology she owed him, and in the conversation. And she watched him as she told the story of how she knew Csoru Zhasanai, and realized that he was truly listening to her, giving her the sort of attention she might give a senior scholar, and realized that he had a gift she did not: to listen in such a way to make the speaker feel heard. In truth, that was an excellent gift for an emperor. And, when he was called away, it was to attend to a minor noble who had taken care of him as a child, and was now dying.
As she waited for the next dance to start, Csethiro realized that she could easily become fond of Edrehasivar. Even if the Emperor might need to surround himself with people who were both sincere and capable of navigating the vipers that were the Untheilenesie Court. And, on that note, that she needed to send a message to her father regarding his birthday gift.