Royal Airs (51 page)

“Of course it was,” Mirti snapped. “What’s your point?”

Nelson glanced around the room, making sure his gaze touched everyone else at the table. “Vernon had no close relations but his bloodline is far from extinguished. We should look for his next of kin—”

“Spare us all the pretense,” Darien said. “You know his nearest living relation is Dominic Wollimer. Who is no more fit for the throne than Odelia is.”

“I agree, but he has an heir of his own, who will be born by Quinnelay,” Nelson responded, not at all flustered by Darien’s manner. “That child deserves serious consideration.”

Mirti spoke up in a heavy voice. “The primes did agree that we would recur to Vernon’s bloodline if we ever needed another heir. But that’s before we looked ahead at who might be parenting that child.”

Elidon had just now worked out the genealogy. “What—
Alys’s
child? To sit on the throne? Certainly, if you want to see the kingdom in ruins.”

“
Corene
is Alys’s child and I assume you think she is still in the running,” Nelson said. The glint in his eyes convinced Josetta he was just trying to stir up trouble.

Elidon glanced at Darien. “Her father’s strengths outweigh her mother’s defects.”

“If we are going to choose a queen based on which of her parents we like best, we will never come to an agreement,” Taro said. “We must choose based on the abilities of the candidates.”

“We must choose based on bloodlines, because that is what the people value!” Nelson exclaimed.

Mirti leaned across the table to respond in an equally loud voice. “You’ve never cared what the people value! What you’re looking for is an advantage to the house of Ardelay! And both Dominic and his scheming bitch of a wife are sweela creatures with Ardelay connections.”

“That’s offensive!” Nelson bellowed, slamming a fist to the table, then gesturing at Josetta. “If I was trying to control the throne, wouldn’t I choose my own brother’s daughter?”

Zoe spoke up for the first time. “Not if you’ve spent much time with her,” she said coolly. “Josetta isn’t often amenable to persuasion.”

Kayle was watching Nelson, his expression bemused. “Is that really true?” he asked. “Are you favoring Alys’s child because of some Ardelay connection? I might have backed you up on Vernon’s bloodline, but not if you’re just being sneaky.”

“Nelson is always being sneaky,” Taro said.

Nelson threw his hands in the air. “I argue for purity of blood and you accuse me of crass self-interest!” he exclaimed. “Choose your own heir, then, and be damned to you all!”

“Well, there are clearly four choices,” Taro said, enumerating them on his fingers. “Josetta. Corene. Natalie. And Alys’s child.”

Mirti shook her head. “Aside from all other considerations, do we really want to wait another twenty-four years to see Alys’s baby grow to adulthood? And what if that child falls ill or proves unsuitable in some fashion? Think of all the time we will have wasted!”

“That is an issue that must be considered,” Darien said, his voice silky smooth. “How stable
is
Vernon’s bloodline? Vernon himself was very unreliable in his final years—physically sick and mentally uncertain. He sired only one child, which raises questions about the virility of his line. And that child has certain deficiencies of her own. Is that really the heritage we want for the next king or queen?”

Oh, he’s been waiting for just the right time to raise that particular question,
Josetta thought, feeling reluctant admiration as she glanced around the room. Kayle was wide-eyed as he pondered this new thought, Mirti and Elidon were nodding in agreement, and even Nelson looked somewhat uneasy. Taro appeared to be already convinced—and there had never been any doubt about Zoe’s opinion.

“I move that we strike the unborn child from the list,” said Taro.

Nelson spoke up quickly. “If you cannot stomach Alys as mother to the next ruler, Vernon had other connections, a little more distant than Dominic Wollimer—”

Taro fixed him with a fierce stare. “I move we strike
all
of Vernon’s relatives from the list.”

“I agree,” said Mirti. “We have plenty of choices as it is.”

“Let’s examine them one by one,” Zoe suggested. “Natalie.”

Nelson shook his head. “Too young,” he snapped, “if you’re already weary of
waiting
for the next heir to grow up.”

“What concerns
me
,” said Elidon, “is how she has been raised.” When Taro rumbled in annoyance, she continued, “Oh, spare me your protests! You know as well as I do that Romelle has had almost no attention to spare for the girl in the past three years! Natalie has hardly ever been at court, she is shy and difficult around strangers, and she is almost as wild as a girl who has been raised by animals! She could be trained and molded, perhaps, but not by Romelle. If we choose her, she must come to Chialto—and
I
must be the one to prepare her for her role.”

There was a short silence while everyone imagined what that would be like. Corene looked over at Josetta with one expressive glance.
Nobody deserves such a dreadful fate.
Josetta was certain they weren’t the only two thinking it.

“Then we are down to two,” Darien said at last.

Everyone was staring at Corene and Josetta.

“Either one would be acceptable,” Taro said. “Either one has
always
been acceptable.”

“Corene has the fire, but Josetta has the vision,” Mirti said.

“Corene is too reckless and Josetta is too cautious, but those are both faults that could be balanced by thoughtful advisors,” Elidon added.

As if we aren’t actually sitting here!
Josetta thought indignantly.

“Josetta is the eldest,” Nelson said. “Just as Kayle said.”

Taro gazed at him with contempt. “So
now
you’ll back your dead brother’s daughter. Still looking for that Ardelay advantage.”

“If you don’t want my input at all, just say so,” Nelson shot back. “If you’re going to question my motives every time I offer an opinion—”

“I question everyone’s motives every time
anyone
offers an opinion,” Elidon interrupted. “Everyone has some self-interest at play. The trick is to set that aside as much as possible to consider the welfare of the kingdom.”

“Well, I don’t know why Welce even needs a king or queen,” Kayle said, his voice petulant. “I mean, we haven’t had one for five years—longer, if you add in Vernon’s final years on the throne—and we’ve managed just fine, haven’t we?”

Mirti cast him a look of irritation. “We’ve been governed by a regent and an advisory council as we waited for the heir to grow to a suitable age.”

“And the regent and the council have managed just fine, haven’t they?” Kayle repeated. “There’s been no civil discord. There’s been no financial crisis. We’ve treated and traded with foreign nations. Why do we need someone to sit on the throne?”

“Well, because—” Elidon began, and then stopped. Mirti was frowning, and Nelson looked thunderstruck. Taro and even Darien looked as if they were having trouble processing what he’d said.

Zoe, of course, was laughing. “Kayle raises an interesting point,” she said. “
Do
we need a royal ruler for Welce? Can the primes and selected advisors adequately manage the kingdom?”

“You are talking about overthrowing an entire government and starting from scratch,” Darien said. Josetta thought he actually sounded breathless. “You would need—systems for choosing advisors and guidelines for when to get rid of them. And you would need—you would need—a constitution of some sort, a document, rules that everyone agreed to. And you would need to determine who would vote on this government. And you would need—
everything
. You would need to redo it
all
.”

“He’s right. It’s too much work,” Kayle said.

But the others were shaking their heads, looking at each other with a certain degree of speculation. “It’s certainly worth considering,” Taro said. “It would save all this nonsense about choosing an heir.”

“There would be just as much scheming and maneuvering,” Nelson warned. “I am not the only one constantly jockeying for advantage! A throne changes hands once every two or three generations, if you’re lucky. But an elected government—well—that can turn over every few years.”

“Yes, but the primes stay in place for decades, usually,” Elidon pointed out. “They would provide a great deal of stability on any council.”

“So who would be eligible to take a seat in this governing body?” Mirti asked. “How long would they stay? What would they be empowered to do?”

“All of that would have to be decided,” Darien said. “It is a monumental task.”

“Well, we are intelligent people,” Elidon said. “I think we’re up to the challenge.”

 • • • 

T
he debate was not nearly done by the time servants began bringing in luncheon trays. Josetta imagined it might go on for days, as the primes and their advisors hammered out the details of what a new government might look like. She formally asked to be excused and Corene hastily jumped up beside her, equally eager to escape. Darien caught Josetta’s wrist as she brushed past him on her way to the door.

“Don’t think you’re out of this—either of you,” he said. “You’re both too important to Welce, even if you’re just very visible figureheads. Don’t think you’ll be running off to live in obscurity somewhere.”

“You read my mind,” Josetta said, and Corene merely smirked.

Two steps out of the room, Josetta inhaled deeply and said, “I can hardly
breathe
in there. Let’s get out of here before Darien finds a reason to call us back. Where should we go?”

“Like I said. The river flats.”

“Let’s do it.”

They made a quick detour through the kitchen, where the cooks packed them a light lunch, and picked up Foley as they were crossing the courtyard. He commandeered a small elaymotive and drove them down the winding mountain road that served the palace, and from there they followed the Cinque to the river flats. Josetta was practically starving by the time they parked as close as they could to the wide, depressed stone apron that fanned off from the Marisi here on the lowest corner of Chialto.

It was, as always, a colorful, chaotic scene. Especially in the warm weather seasons of Quinnahunti and Quinnatorz, the flats were crowded with itinerants and beggars, people with no better place to stay and people who simply preferred to live on the river. There were hundreds of small tents, narrow mats, and impromptu campsites laid out in random fashion along the river’s edge. Josetta supposed there might be a couple thousand people living there, and all of them appeared to be in motion: walking, cooking, fetching water, talking in small groups. The sparkling Marisi ambled past, slow enough to bathe in at this point in its journey. The early afternoon sun was hot enough to be uncomfortable, but the breeze off the water turned the air delightful.

“Let’s find a spot and eat,” Corene said, crouching down and vaulting easily from the overhang to the stone apron. Josetta and Foley were right behind her.

The river residents might have recognized them, or they might simply have decided not to tangle with Foley. At any rate, no one approached them as they picked their way through campsites until they found a relatively clear and level spot. Foley, it turned out, had remembered to bring blankets, so they sat in comfort as they consumed delicacies from the palace kitchen. There was plenty left over; Josetta started skimming the faces of the nearby campers, trying to pick one or two who might need extra food.

“So did the primes settle everything, then?” Foley asked, gathering up plates and linens and stuffing them back in the food basket. “Have they decided who will be the next heir?”

“No!” Corene exclaimed. “Kayle—of all people!—asked why they needed a king or queen at all, and now they’re talking about setting up a whole new government!”

Foley looked impressed but not particularly anxious. Josetta imagined that most of the people of Welce might feel the same way. As long as the country continued to function smoothly, did they care who ran it? Maybe not.

“Big changes,” he said. “But does that mean you two are no longer princesses?”

“I don’t know what it means,” Josetta said. “I just hope it means I don’t have to be queen. I’m so relieved I feel dizzy. I feel so light and happy I could float away.”

Corene gave her a quick sideways glance. Whereas Josetta had taken off her overtunic and stretched out on the blanket, reveling in the feel of the sun on her bare arms, Corene was still in a sitting position, her knees drawn up and her hands linked around her ankles. She did not look nearly as relaxed as Josetta felt.

“Really?” Corene said, her voice soft. “I’m disappointed.”

Joestta was astonished. “You wanted to be queen? You never said so.”

Corene shrugged and fixed her eyes on the river. “It was never going to be me. It was always going to be you. And then Odelia was born and it was going to be her, but at any rate, it was never
me
. I was always the troublesome one. You heard Elidon. I’m reckless—and I have
Alys
as a mother. No one would ever trust me on the throne.” She set her chin on the top of one knee. “But I always wanted it. From the time I was a little girl.”

“Well, I suppose if you’d gone to Soeche-Tas like they planned, you could have been queen there—or whatever they call the viceroy’s wife,” Josetta said.

Corene made a scoffing sound. “Ugh. He was horrible. And I was so afraid of him! No, I didn’t want to go to Soeche-Tas. I wanted to be queen in Chialto and have a suite as big as Elidon’s and decorate it in sweela colors. But I didn’t mind just being a princess because there was always the
possibility
I could be queen, even when I was really old. And now—” She turned her head, resting her cheek on her knee; her voice was muffled when she spoke again. “And now I’m just another ordinary girl.”

Josetta’s heart twisted; she didn’t know what to say, though she knew better than to offer outright sympathy. As she cast about for some kind of light reply, Foley unexpectedly spoke up.