Chapter Text
“Idra, why dost thou not want to be Emperor?”
Idra sighed to himself. Mireän was as stubborn as ever.
“If the empress has a boy this time,” she persisted, “he will become the heir instead of thee. Dost not mind it, truly?”
He smiled patiently. “Whatever happens it probably won’t change very much for me. The baby will be just that, a baby. It’s simply that I’d no longer be the heir. And no, I don’t mind that at all. I hope Cousin Maia has a long and peaceful reign and several sons to come after him.”
“Dost thou not want to be in charge, though? Canst tell everyone what to do. If someone annoys thee, canst send them to prison. Everyone bows to thee and gives thee things. And thou hast lots of servants. And nohecharei!”
“Thou know’st it’s not so simple, Miree. Think of our mother and how horrible it was for Cousin Maia.”
“It was horrible for us too.”
“It really was. But an emperor will always have enemies, because the emperor represents the government, and there will always be people who disagree with his policies or who have some grudge. He has to have guards all the time. And he can’t just do what he wants. Leilis Athmaza has taught thee about the Princes and Witnesses, the House of Blood and the Commons, I’m sure.” Mireän had begun taking a few lessons with Idra’s tutor and was very proud of the fact, especially since Ino was still considered too young.
Mireän heaved a sigh. “I suppose. I was only thinking it would be nice not to have people always telling me what to do and how to behave. And to be able to choose things. And to have beautiful jewellery like Cousin Maia.”
Idra laughed. “That will surely get better when thou art a little older. But wouldst thou really want nohecharei following thee constantly? And edocharei telling thee what to wear? I find Varis quite enough.” Idra had acquired a valet when he attained his majority, and would eventually be given edocharei.
“I like Varis. He’s funny.”
“So do I. But I’m glad there’s only one of him.”
“And thou wilt have guards now.”
“Not all the time. Just while I’m travelling.”
“They’re so interesting! Dost thou like them, Idra? Why dost thou have goblins to guard thee anyway?”
“I think actually I do like them. It’s a bit new. Cousin Maia asked me to take them because the Great Avar left them here to protect him, but there isn’t a lot for them to do, and Captain Vizhenka suggested some of them could be a guard for me when I’m away.” Idra smiled to himself. The Hezhethora were very impressive, even a little intimidating, though once he nerved himself to speak to them he found them friendly and less inclined to stiff formality than the Untheileneise guards. And being the elvish heir with a guard of goblins was bound to have interesting consequences. Many of the court, even some of those who approved of Maia personally, were inclined to regard goblins as barbarian inferiors, a sentiment doubtless not confined to the palace. But Idra had reason to be grateful to Maia, and had come to admire him. He was glad he would almost certainly never have to be emperor, but he had begun to realise he did want to have some useful role in Maia’s government.
After Sheveän’s attempt on the throne Idra had been anxious to be seen as a loyal supporter and to distance himself from any former allies of his mother. He knew he might have been exiled, or worse, along with Sheveän: that would undoubtedly have been his grandfather’s decision in such a situation, even once Idra’s innocence was clear. Maia had not so much as hinted at it. Even after his marriage, the emperor took time to see Idra regularly, and they were on friendly terms, especially as Idra grew up. Idra was grateful, and anxious to repay his generosity.
Now that he had come of age, he would be expected to take on more duties as Prince of the Untheileneise Court. At rising seventeen, he was already feeling pressure to marry and help secure the Drazhada line after the losses in the destruction of the Wisdom of Choharo. “The stability of the Elflands depends on it,” his tutor told him, a little portentously. “Our alliance with Barizhan has been strengthened by the emperor’s accession, but we have enemies elsewhere. And trade is vital to our prosperity.” Idra, who had been well schooled in history, politics and economics, sighed inwardly but didn’t protest, even when gossip swirled around the court about his marriage. But when Maia offered him the opportunity to undertake various official duties outside the palace he had welcomed the chance.
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“Inspect thy bridge? Of course!” Idra laughed, knowing Maia’s enthusiasm for his project, which after nearly three years was now nearing completion. They were walking in the rose gardens of the Alcethmeret, a pleasant and private place for discussion.
Maia looked a little rueful. “I have been once to see how the works progress, but I can hardly justify more visits.”
Idra had only seen the model, but he had found it fascinating. “I would be very pleased, especially as I expect the clocksmiths will provide an expert guide.”
“But also be sure to listen to the trade association people thou mayst meet and those involved in the construction as well as the nobles. If there is any serious dispute or financial difficulty it would be useful to have warning, and there must be no shortcuts made to meet an arbitrary completion date. Of course some problems are to be expected, as I need hardly tell thee, and thou canst not always judge accurately on a short visit.”
“I understand. And yes, I would also be very happy to visit the troops in the Evressai steppes. And maybe see the Nazhmorhathveras.”
“From a distance, Idra!” said Maia, a little alarmed. “Please take no risks.”
“I very much doubt I’ll be allowed to.”
“It’s an inspection of the troops, a reassurance they are not forgotten by the emperor and a chance for them to express their concerns about the truce.”
“Yes, I understand, I think. Maybe it keeps it less formal, less provocative potentially? if it’s just me. In fact I knew a few of the younger officers before they became soldiers.” And it might be interesting to find out how they were taking the idea of peace.
“Did’st not think of becoming a soldier thyself?”
“It’s not an option for the Prince of the Untheileneise Court,” said Idra drily. “I am destined to be kept nearly as closely as the emperor.”
Maia looked at him. “I’ve been thinking about that. Thou wilt have thy valet with thee, of course, and I thought perhaps we might deprive Miree of her tutor for a little while.”
“May I take Leilis? I’d appreciate that.”
“Thou wilt also need a secretary to make all the daily arrangements. I’ll ask Csevet to recommend someone, unless thou hast a preference.”
“I really need a secretary?”
“There’s always a surprising amount of administration even once all the arrangements are complete,” said Maia firmly, “and Leilis Athmaza is a scholar, not a secretary. As far as guards are concerned -” he hesitated for a moment, “I thought to send two armsmen with thee, and four of Vizhenka’s Hezhethora.”
“A goblin guard?” Idra was intrigued.
“It’s an experiment, but I hope it may be better than having them idle their days away here. Vizhenka thinks the Great Avar will approve.”
Idra thought about it. “It will cause controversy.” He caught Maia’s eye, and laughed. Controversy had hardly been lacking in the emperor’s reign to date.
“And of course thou wilt travel by airship.”
Maia was looking to make sure Idra was not worried by this, but Idra was unconcerned.
“What about the badlands?” he said. “That would be interesting too, and it would be a logical visit to make if I’m going to the steppes.”
“It would be useful,” agreed Maia. “I have not been since the ceasefire was signed. Thou couldst see how people are reacting, if they’ve become accustomed or if there’s dissatisfaction still. But there are also two duties I wanted to discuss with thee which I’m afraid will be less interesting. Unless thou also hast friends in Valno?”
“I barely know the name, in all honesty. The prince rarely comes to court. What’s toward in Valno?”
“It’s a commemoration of the manifestation of Akhalarna, which they celebrate annually, but this is a special year and they invited me. I don’t want to offend them, especially as I’ve never visited, but I would prefer not to take the time away while Csethiro is unwell.” The empress was currently furious to find herself suffering sickness and exhaustion much more severely than with her first pregnancy.
“Of course, Maia, I’ll be pleased,” said Idra politely, though this did indeed sound rather less interesting than the chance of seeing a Nazhmorhathveras witch.
“And if thou couldst perhaps spend a short time with the Clunethar, I would appreciate it. I don’t know how well thou knowest Prince Orchenis, but I think he would be a useful model for thee. He is a very active prince of his people.”
Idra sighed. “Whereas I’m a largely ornamental prince. Of course, Cousin. Tell me what thou need’st.”
******