Two Imperial weeks later, Rajenlif was getting ready to leave.

It was always bittersweet, getting ready to leave Naesavarna; Rajenlif had long ago come to think of it and Tuaut as co-equal homes, but Naesavarna was always first among the equals, even if the time spent there was somewhat less than that spent in Tuaut. (She did not hold that against Tiernan; her husband had been as good as his word, and there had been many times that he had found himself on Jutuneim during a time where it might be more convenient to be in Tuaut – and every time, he had noted to others that he was the Emperor, and Jotnarherath was in the Empire, and therefore others could bend to accommodate him.)

“I will be leaving things in your capable hands, cousin,” Rajenlif said, as she wound up her last meeting before departure. “You have never failed me, and I trust you will continue to serve Jotnarherath and your Dronung well.”

Lord Sjedi smiled, and said, “I will, of course, but…High-born Rajenlif, there is something I wanted to discuss.”

“Oh?” Rajenlif was genuinely curious; Tursas had been a true servant, and he rarely pushed things that she hadn’t.

“I…first, I want to thank you. For trusting me to serve as Governor-Regent. We go back a long way, and I know you remember me as a child – and that you remember how annoyed I was that my life had been charted for me.”

Rajenlif smiled. “You were never happy with the idea that you were being raised merely to manage your family’s trust.”

“No, I wasn’t. But I still went along, even when that got me steered to law school, the better to understand the legalities of it.”

“Cousin, you met Lera at Gavpot Alizkula; you cannot say it was anything but a success.”

“No,” Tursas said with a grin, “I can’t. That made it all worth it. But even after that – I was still just a man with a pedigree and an inheritance.”

“Not at all!” Rajenlif said. “You spent the years after graduation not simply sitting around and waiting for Aunt Hloda to die. You donated your time at free legal clinics, advocated for more equal access to Jotnar courts. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did!” Tursas said. “I couldn’t…I had so much. I had to do something. But what I did…it felt like a drop in the ocean. And then, you appointed me Governor-Regent, and….”

“And you have been an excellent one, exceeding even my expectations. I knew that you cared about the worlds beyond your House, Tursas. But you have proven to have a deep love of those worlds. And you have been an excellent regent.”

“I am grateful for the chance,” Tursas said. “I…always feared that I would leave little mark upon the universe. And perhaps I have, but…but I’ve done what I could to help the people of Jotnarherath. My life has meant something, aside from just being a link in the lineage of the Sjedi family.”

“It has,” Rajenlif. “And I hope that life will go on for many years.”

Tursas caught her meaning, and shook his head. “Don’t worry, High-born Rajenlif, I’m not dying. But you’re right…I am approaching an end. I have been your regent for 24 years, but I am 71 now; Lera is retired, and I have grandchildren who I do not see as much as I would like, not to mention my children. And each of us has an hourglass filled with sand, and we never know when the last grain of sand will fall.”

“No, we do not,” Rajenlif said. She sighed. “Selfishly, I know that perhaps I could prevail upon you to stay in the office, but that would be a terrible recompense for your service. Do you have a timeline for when you would like to resign?” She hoped very much that he would not reply with today, but she also knew Tursas well enough to know that he wouldn’t.

“I wanted to give you a fair warning. I am eight months from the twenty-fifth anniversary of my taking the office. I think that is a good end-point; I will of course extend beyond that if I must.”

“No, no; eight months is more than enough time for me to line up a successor to you. And if you wish to leave sooner, I will do what I must to accelerate the timetable.”

“No, twenty-five years is a nice milestone. I’ll be out of office before I turn 72. And then…well, I never wanted to retire too early; my parents wanted my whole life to be retirement. But…it is okay if I retire at some point, I think.”

“Without a doubt,” Rajenlif said. “And may you and Lera have twenty-five years of retirement together, and many great-grandchildren to love before you go on to the next realm.”

* * *

On the far side of the Empire, Rajenlif’s daughter was also having a discussion, this one a good deal more rancorous.

“You know, after everything we’ve done….” she said, then stopped herself.

“I know what?” The man sitting across the desk from her said. “That after everything you’ve done for us poor, benighted Federationers, we should be grateful? We should bow and scrape before you? Is that what you were going to say, your worshipfulness?”

Vallero Throden ColVanos, Princess of Turga, Heir-Designate to the Emperor and Dronung, rolled her eyes and growled. “Frak’s sake, Musti…I wasn’t going to say the Federation needed to be more grateful….”

“We are grateful. Very. But my job is not to be grateful, it’s to ensure that the people actually get the help they need! So you can stop telling me to be more polite!”

Vallero put her face in her palms. “Musti – I was also not going to say that. Maybe you could stop interrupting me? I haven’t put my crown on in the time I’ve been here, but a lot of people would still listen to someone who’s both the Emperor’s daughter and the head of your organization’s largest benefactor.”

Namusti Nanidias paused in his counter-attack. This was not natural for him; he was a street fighter, and that was not metaphorical. He had been a youth leader of his local chapter of the White Knights, a Federation protest group. The Knights had been anti-Titan Party, anti-Block, and most of all, anti-Cesil. He still bore a scar over his left eye from one particularly nasty run-in; he’d stitched it up himself, on the (correct) assumption that he’d be arrested if he showed up at a clinic.

Out of college he had ended up working with Earia’s Protection, a local branch of the Oldline Aementi charity. He wasn’t particularly religious, but the organization didn’t care much about that; they were most concerned without spreading help and shelter to those who needed it, and they viewed the Block as a foe more than anything. Musti had managed a minor criminal record, and it was ignored on hire; once in the organization, he’d thrived, rising to head to head of the Federation division by age 40.

He had done so by pouring heart and soul into the organization, hoping to build a shelter against Cesil’s storm. And against all odds, it held together through secession, and on the other side he found himself working with Boundless Fountain and the Tarsuss Foundation and a half-dozen other aid agencies to push relief out where it needed to go.

“Thank you,” Vallero said, as Musti gave her a chance to speak. “As I was saying…after all we’ve done together, I would hope that you would trust that I want the same thing you do, and that when I tell you I can’t help you, it isn’t because I don’t want to. As much as I’d like to funnel unlimited resources into the Federation, there aren’t unlimited resources. We have to help you recover and help Freeman Colony recover, all while the rest of the Empire fights a war. So no, I can’t give you all the resources to build new housing that you’d like. I can give you about half. But!” she added, anticipating his next interruption, “I have also reached out to my cousin, Prince Senedj. The Hionari Group is willing to offer generous financing terms to help facilitate the rest of construction. Two percentage points below standard, as a public service. The Tarsuss Foundation and Boundless Fountain are also willing to serve as co-guarantors, if Earia’s Protection will take an equal share of the risk, and if the Federation Council is willing to agree to pay back the loan out of tax revenues generated by the redevelopment.”

“And I get to be a lobbyist. Which is my least favorite part of my job,” Musti sighed.

“You’re lobbying me.”

“No, I’m yelling at you, and I’m sorry, Your Highness. I…know I probably do seem ungrateful. I am not, not ever. I just…I know where we were so recently, and right now we’re balanced on a knife’s edge. The Block hasn’t gone away, the Titan Party faithful are home salving their cuts – but they’ll return, if we give them any chance to. And if things fall apart, even though what falls apart will be Cesil’s gorram fault….”

“Believe me,” Vallero said, “I understand. You remind me a lot of my big sister, when she was pushing for human rights. We all supported them, but Rhionne…well, for her, it wasn’t just her brother-in-law. It was her and Daz’s husband, and their children. It was personal. This is personal for you. I know that. It’s why I’ve told you before…you can call me Vallero. At least until they make me Empress.”

“It’s personal for you too. You’re heir to the throne, you don’t have to be here in West Walak, but you are. Lotta people would’ve come in for a press conference and a handshake, not rented an apartment and stayed here for months.” He shook his head ruefully. “I’m…not sure I’m the best person for this anymore. I’m so used to fighting….”

“Fighting is good. Fighting is important,” Vallero said. “I’m okay with a fight, if it’s for a good reason.”

“This one wasn’t,” Musti said. “As for the proposal, I’m not sure how much more debt I can talk Servant-Leader Temis into adding.”

“It’s all guaranteed by the Imperial Legislature anyhow,” Vallero said with a grin. “If you end up defaulting, Tuaut picks up the tab. Not that it’s encouraged. But I know that Lady Tarsuss is looking to significantly ramp up production in the Federation, as are a number of other companies; the future here is good. We just have to make sure to hold things together until that future gets here.”

“Agreed,” Musti said. “And thanks.”

“Thank you,” Vallero said.

Musti gathered his things, but paused. “Vallero…may I ask a personal question?”

“Depends on the question,” Vallero said.

“Well, just tell me it’s none of my business…I’m just curious why you never married.”

Vallero shrugged. “I was always worried about getting in a relationship and finding out that my parents had betrothed me to someone. It happened to Antero, it happened to Rhionne. Well, after Rhionne, Daz, and Pierce, mom and dad decided that they wouldn’t marry me off to anyone, but by the time they told me….”

She chuckled. “It’s not like I didn’t have options, but so many of them were people who wanted to marry a princess, not someone interested in me. And I got into charity work, and I realized just how many people in this Empire need help, even with all our wealth. And so I devoted myself to that. And I figured it wouldn’t matter, because Antero was going to be Emperor, and then….”

Musti nodded. “Your brother was a hero, and I know that’s no consolation.”

“Anyhow, Rhionne knew that being married to a human, having hybrid children…she didn’t want to provoke a backlash. So I’m due to be Empress, alone. And now, anyone who asks me out is auditioning to be Emperor, maybe see if I can still have a kid to put on the throne. So I’m pretty much out of the game; one of my nieces or nephews will be my successor, and all of them are great, so I’m not concerned. Now, Musti, I’m going to turn this around on you. Why are you still single? I can’t believe nobody has been interested in you.”

Musti chuckled. “No, it…I was married, when I was 23. But my wife…she became a member of the Titan Party. She hadn’t been political when we met, and she knew how I felt, but still, she kept trying to convince me that I was superior to a Ler because…frak, don’t even remember why, something to do with ability to do advanced calculus, and I hated calculus so it didn’t make sense to me. Anyhow, eventually I just couldn’t do it. Whatever was left of the woman I had loved was covered up under hatred and bigotry. So we divorced, thankfully before we had children. From what I understand, she married a Blocker after she left me. Anyhow, after that…I put my energy into my job.”

“Oof. That’s awful,” Vallero said. “I’m sorry.”

Musti shrugged. “It’s all right. I wouldn’t mind meeting someone someday, but I’d have to know they wouldn’t come home one night and tell me that humans were pets and Titans had better bone structure than the Avartle. And unfortunately, in the Federation, that’s never been a sure bet. Anyhow…I’m sorry to pry.”

“No, that’s fine,” Vallero said. “I pried right back. And possibly for the same reason.”

Musti looked back at her. After a very long pause, he said, “I…um…I don’t want to be Emperor.”

“I know,” Vallero said.

* * *

Siru was trying very hard not to be angry as she walked over to a privacy cubicle, carrying her carry-on pack with her. She was also trying very hard not to melt into a puddle of affection. Both emotions were about equal in her at that moment, and she really didn’t want either to win out; both seemed completely appropriate.

She sealed the door to the small booth, set the pack down, and opened it up.

“All right,” she said, “what in Otna’s name were you thinking?”

It is never fun to have your partner angry with you. This is true when you and your partner are roughly the same size. When your partner is the size of a small office building….

“Okay, first…I did buy an open, round trip human ride-along ticket,” Aleks said, as he climbed partway out (though not all the way; he was reasonably cautious). “I wasn’t trying to sneak along for free.”

“That isn’t the…how much did that cost you? I’m in a first-class cabin!”

“Less than you’d think, we don’t take up much space,” Aleks said, not mentioning that it had been about seventy percent of his savings. “I didn’t want you to end up in trouble. I would have checked in as on the ship as soon as you were aboard.”

“And then what? Do you expect me to…what, introduce you to my family?”

Something about the way Siru said that made Aleks wince…and something about the way Aleks winced made Siru say, “I mean….You are not the problem, Aleks. I don’t want you to have to meet them. You…you don’t deserve what you’d go through with them.”

“No, I don’t expect you to introduce me,” Aleks said coolly. “I wasn’t even necessarily thinking I’d stay on Jotnarherath, I just knew that you were dreading this trip, and I wanted to at least make the trip out a bit better…and I’ve fraked that up, so I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“Vwofas right you should have! We’re lucky that the security screener actually listened to you. Even with humans having full rights, you know you could have run into one who would have arrested you, or me, or both of us. You aren’t a pet, you’re a person, you can’t just hide out in luggage and expect nobody to notice.”

“Yeah, and…the more I think about it, the more of an idiot I was. That wasn’t….”

Aleks took a deep breath.

“Siru…I’m a law student with poor parents and a brother who’s a lot better than I am, and a girlfriend who deserves a lot better than me, and I just…I wanted to do something crazy and reckless….”

“Aleks…you don’t have any idea how brave you really are, do you?” Siru said, rubbing her eyes. “You don’t have to make a big gesture to win me over. It’s the little things you do that make me love you.”

“All the things I do are little.”

“See?” Siru said. “Told ya.” She took a deep breath. “My family will not understand our relationship at all. I can’t introduce you to them yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to without being disinherited, and…and you should dump me.”

“Why would I do something that stupid?”

“Because…I don’t know if I’m strong enough to tell them to take the money and the title away, and that I’ll make it on my own. I want to be strong enough, but…you’re brave enough to try. I don’t know if I am.”

Aleks finally climbed to the top of the bag, and sat on the lip, looking up at the colossus who dominated his world. “Siru, you’re braver than you think you are. But that’s…that’s a level of brave that I’ll never ask of you. If in the end, you have to choose between your family and me…I can’t demand you choose me. I love you too much to make you choose me. I’m…I’m relieved to know that you could choose me. That you at least…you think it’s a possibility you might. But if you choose your family…they’re your family. I don’t want you to have to cut your family off for me. I don’t know that I’m worth that.”

Siru reached down and picked her boyfriend up, and held him to her chest. “You’re worth it. If in the end, I choose my family over you…then you will have won, because if I ever do, then you will deserve more than me.”

She felt a very small kiss on her breastbone, and sighed as affection won out over anger.

“All right, you hid pretty effectively. Can you hide that effectively when we reach Jutuneim?”

“Yes, I can,” Aleks said. “And if it looks at all like I won’t be able to, there are human hostels in Naesavarna – I can go there and wait for you to be done.”

“Good. Now, how much was the ticket really? Because I know it wasn’t cheap. And as I still have access to my dad’s money, I am happy to spend it on you.”

“Siru, I –”

“You know I’ll get it out of you,” she said with a grin. “It’s a two-day trip, after all.”

Aleks smiled up at her. “All right, I’ll tell you. But not until you’ve gotten it out of me.”

Siru’s smile widened. “Oh, Aleks. Don’t you ever stow away on me ever again. But this time…this time, we’re going to have fun.”

“You’re sending mixed messages, you know.”

“Yes,” Siru said. “I know.”

* * *

Rixie lined up her target carefully, and brought the blade to the ready. She paused for just half a second, to let her conscious mind take a step back, to let her unconscious guide her. And then she struck.

With a thwuck, the log cleaved cleanly in two, both sides falling away.

“You’re a natural.”

“I’ve had a lot of experience hitting things with pointy sticks,” Rixie said, her breath fogging slightly in the chill fall air of Hyrikkenwuode. “I’ve trained with short-axes, this isn’t that different.”

“Remind me not to get in an argument with you.”

Rixie smiled, and stepped back, and looked over at her brother. (Her brother. That would never feel quite right.) “Don’t worry, outside of sparring and matches, I’ve never taken a swing at anyone I liked. Well…never one meant to kill, anyhow.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t gotten to know me yet,” Namø said. “I will definitely get on your nerves at some point.”

“I was wondering what the family resemblance would be,” Rixie said, setting another piece of wood up to be split. “I will definitely get on your nerves. That’s why I’m with Alex, he’s good at acting obnoxious to take the spotlight off me. Makes everyone think –” she swung, and split the wood, “—that I’m really patient and tolerant.”

“Yeah, he isn’t fooling anyone, I don’t think,” Namø said, as he gathered the firewood together. “He puts on an act like he’s some kind of goof, but he’s sharp as that hatchet.”

“Yes, he is,” Rixie said. She sighed. “I…do want to apologize.”

“For what?” Namø said.

“For dropping into your life out of nowhere. It’s not really fair to you.”

Namø chuckled. “I’m not saying it’s easy. For one thing, you’re a lot more successful than me, so I kinda feel like a loser. Which is weird, I never used to.”

“And you shouldn’t,” Rixie said. “One of my best friends is a teacher. I’ve seen what Sophia does, and I couldn’t do it. Don’t get me wrong, I can train. Get soldiers to soldier. But teach? Kids?” She chuckled. “I love kids, don’t get me wrong, but I’d rather go into battle than try to teach a class of eighteen twelve-year-olds like you do.”

“You make it sound like a lot more than it is,” Namø said, handing Rixie half the wood to carry.

“And you make my job sound like a lot more than it is. I was a soldier and a bodyguard; that means, ultimately, that I’m disposable meat. And I’m okay with that, really. The first time I almost died, I was protecting Alex; the second time, I was on Titan Station. Both Alex and Earth would have been worth my life.

“But you don’t have to risk your life, you teach the next generation. That’s the most important thing we can do – making sure they’re ready when we leave this universe to them.”

“Well, I don’t know about that; I just make sure they have some understanding of how Jotnar and Sininentavan government works before they move on to the next level. A lot of them will never need to know it.”

“You never know when you need to know something,” Rixie said. “Alex always said he did well in his school government classes because he was interested in it, but he didn’t want to do anything with it long-term. And he’ll still claim he isn’t doing anything with it, except for being a senator and an adviser to most of the Avalonian presidents.” Rixie helped stack the firewood in the log rack, bringing it back to full.

“You know, I could have used your help back when I was a kid. I always hated this chore. Don’t mind it as much now that I don’t have to do it every day.”

“So what do we do with it? I know that they aren’t heating any cabins with it.”

Namø chuckled. “No, no, that would be silly. But a good campfire is nice, especially this time of year. You ever toast amijdismarfid?”

Rixie had that brief panicked moment where she felt like saying that of course she had, but at the risk of seeming like the less-than-perfect Jotnar she was, she admitted, “I honestly don’t know what those are.”

“Oh, we’ll have to do it when the sun goes down. Asteria will like them. They’re…how can I describe it…well, the name comes from foam sweets, and that’s not far off. They’re basically made out of pseudogel, sugar, water, and starch, and when you toast them, the sugars caramelize and they kind of melt. Well, if you’re careful. If you aren’t, they burn. But then what’s inside melts, so….”

“Oh! You’re talking about marshmelons!” Rixie said. “Or at least, something like them.”

“Marshmelon? That’s almost as strange a name as amijdismarf. I know they don’t have them on Archavia, except at Jotnar stores. Did you find them somewhere else?”

“Earth,” Rixie said. “Or at least, Earth found them. My husband brought them to Rixie’s on Avalon at one point because he thought people there would like a Terran dessert caleld smors, which is basically a toasted marshmelon, a thin cookie, and gok’ma candy. You put them together into a sandwich. He made some Titan-sized marshmelons for us to try, but he thought they weren’t perfect.”

“Cookies and gok’ma and amijdismarfid? That…that might be really good. The gok’ma would melt, it would be messy…we will have to try it,” Namø said, as they walked into the house. “Alex will probably need to stay back, though – a human dealing with a flaming amijdismarf would probably end up with third-degree burns.”

“A flaming amijdismarf? That sounds dangerous,” Alex agreed from his perch on a table. “Or it would, if I knew what it was.”

“It sounds like a Jotnar marshmelon,” Rixie said.

“Mr. Spock, is that you?” Alex asked.

“Huh?”

“It’s marshmallow, Rix, though it’s a really weird word now that I say it out loud. Anyhow, if it’s a Titan-scale marshmallow, I will stand a good ways away, though Rixie will need to let me try a bit to see if it’s close, because if it is, Rixie’s is about to offer something very special on the summer menu.”

“Smors, Rixie called them?” Namø said.

“Close enough,” Alex said. “So we’re going to try to make them tonight?”

“When the sun goes down, and Starry wakes up from her nap,” Rixie said. “If mom…if mom will let us have Starry, that is.”

Namø laughed, as their mother had been doting over her newfound grandchild for most of the past two days. “She likes having a toddler around.”

“Well Peppi is too big to rock,” Vwoku said, coming back into the room. “Not that I wouldn’t try.”

“It’s true,” Namø said. “She was just as possessive of Hilmar. When your son’s child is born, she’ll steal them too.”

“Nobody’s stealing anyone from Thyllia,” Alex said. “Girl grew up stealing the children of everyone in Tayas Mons. I have never been more certain that any new parent would do a great job.”

“Oh, she’ll still give them up,” Vwokhu said, setting onto a couch. “New parents are always grateful to have a grandparent to foist their child off on. Isn’t that right, Namø?”

“It is definitely right. Rixie’s been here two days and she’s already doing it.”

“And I’m not even a new parent,” Rixie said. “But….”

She smiled. “Well, I think she’s in good hands. And it’s…it’s nice to see….”

She shook her head. “Well, she thinks you’re great, anyhow. So anyhow, if we’re going to make smors come evening…Alex, what will we need?”

* * *

Tursas Sjedi kissed his wife, and settled into bed for the night.

He wasn’t sure he had done the right thing, not completely; selfishly, he wanted to serve as Governor-Regent until the day he died. He loved the job, loved it dearly. Almost, but not quite, as much as he loved his family.

But he had meant what he said – he knew that he wanted to enjoy them while he was still healthy enough to travel, still healthy enough to take the grandchildren overnight. Not that he didn’t do those things, but he was at the mercy of his duties as Governor-Regent. Vacations had to be worked around the seatings of the Jotnardiggi, and they were often interrupted. And even if the interruptions were brief…they were interruptions.

No, this was the right thing, the right time. He would celebrate 25 years, and retire.

He heard his wife drift off to slumber, and soon enough, he did as well. He awoke for just a moment, when he felt a sharp pain, like the sting of an insect, and a brief, spreading warmth.

And then he fell back unconscious.

And a few moments later, the last grain of sand in Tursas Sjedi’s hourglass fell.