Aud checked her pad, and sighed. She was expecting this call; she was mildly surprised that it was coming from this particular member of the Royal family. She had thought Rajenlif would make the call when the news got back to her.

There was part of her, a part that she had buried very far down, that was glad he was calling her. That hoped it was supportive. But she ignored it as she answered.

“High-Born Kullervo,” Aud said. “What can I do for you?”

Kullervo sighed. “Audara, I understand why you don’t answer with ‘Hello, Dad,’ I do. But you don’t have to answer calls from me as if they’re a business transaction.”

“But I do,” Aud said. “After all, I know what fate I face if I get to comfortable calling you my father.”

Kullervo shook his head, but he did not push the argument. “Aud, I was just calling because I heard that you got married, and I want to congratulate you.”

Aud almost felt bad as she watched her father; she could see the clear pain that he felt, knowing that she had married without even bothering to mention it to him. But he had fathered her and not mentioned it for over a decade; they were still not close to even.

“Yes, I married Skor. I assume you heard that, too?”

“I did. And Aud…I don’t know how you ended up convincing Luviisa that you were ‘good enough’ for Skor, but I’m very glad you did. You were always more than worthy of Skor, whether you were my daughter or not. It is to your mother-in-law’s eternal shame that she did not recognize that sooner.”

“Luviisa at least acknowledges her son,” Aud said.

“True. And while I do not want you to share your parentage widely…I know that it might smooth things over if you confided your secret in Skor and Luviisa. Ask them, obviously, not to share it with others. But they are your family now. And I will not prevent them from knowing who you truly are.”

Aud’s eyes went wide at that. “I…what?”

“You heard me. I know that you may have worn Luviisa down, but I’m willing to bet she still is throwing snide remarks at you. You can let her know that whether the galaxy knows it or not, both I and the Dronung know that you could claim the title of princess if you were less patriotic, and less willing to be quiet for the sake of Jotnarherath. And if you have children, while they will not be Throdens – and frankly, given that the House of Throden is no longer independent, that is unimportant – they are descendants of Hirera.”

“Well…I appreciate this,” Aud said. “I…I wish you’d mentioned this fifteen years ago.”

“I wish I had done a great many things differently than I did. There are few things I regret more than the divide between us, and believe me, I know whose fault that is, and it is not yours. Nor is it your mother’s, nor the Dronung’s. Audara, I am very glad that you are married to Skor. And I hope you and he have a long and happy life together.”

“Thank you. I hope so too,” Aud said.

She considered for a moment, before continuing. “Do you ever regret that the House of Throden is no more? That it has been made a part of the Imperial house?”

“It was Raja’s decision as Dronung and primate. I don’t get to question it.”

“Still…it is sad that your children…that they will have no noble house.”

“Swipul and Isku married into others. They’ll be fine. You’re an Aljansen now. And there’s….”

He paused. He appeared to consider something, before shrugging, and saying, “Anyhow, Keaerte will make her choices, but if it is important to her to be a part of a noble house, I think she will manage to find someone. That said…I do wish that Raja had been able to fold us in completely, rather than effectively moving us into House ColVanos. Not for my children, you will all be fine, but because it was a great and noble house.”

“One can argue that it still is,” Aud said. “I was record-keeper for House Throden until its dissolution…and while the Dronung has made her decision, I could find nothing in the records that would allow her to unilaterally end the House.”

“Perhaps not, but it’s moot; when Vallero takes the throne, it won’t matter anymore,” Kullervo said.

“Well, that may be,” Aud said. She paused, before adding, “Anyhow, I should let you know that my marriage is not my only news. Skor and I are expecting a child.”

Kullervo gave a cautious smile. “My daughter, if you did that to convince Luviisa…well, I am not going to condone it, exactly, as you have paid dearly for being raised out of wedlock. It was a gamble. But I’m also not going to condemn it. Given how stubborn Luviisa has been, a bit of a gamble was going to be necessary, wasn’t it?”

Aud smiled. “It was. But you have to risk something if you’re going to win.”

* * *

“All right,” Rixie said to nobody in particular. “Ring finger up.”

“What’s that now?” Alex said.

Rixie sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you need sleep.”

“I’ve needed sleep for over a hundred years. And Asteria is down for another fifteen hours or so, so I can sleep in. What about the ring finger?”

Rixie smiled down at her husband, who had been attempting to crash out on the pillow of their bed while she flipped through her pad. He wasn’t wrong – he would be asleep and awake and going back to sleep by the time she got up – but still, her muttering and keeping a billboard-sized light on in the darkness couldn’t help his wake-sleep cycle.

“Ring finger up is a rude gesture in Jotnarherath,” Rixie said. “Like holding your pinky, middle, and index fingers in the Empire. Exact opposite, now that I think about it.”

“Always thought that was weird that you guys made the shocker your screw you sign,” Alex said.

“The…what?”

“That’s a long explanation, and it wouldn’t work for me anyhow. In America our screw-you sign was the middle finger. Short, sweet, to the point. Of course,” he yawned, “I think every gesture is rude somewhere. I remember chatting with Emily on the pad a year or so ago, I gave her an okay, and she asked what possessed me to make the White Power sign. The gorram Nazis stole it in the 21^st century! She had a long explanation about how it was supposed to be ironic, but then became real, and I’ll admit I stopped listening, because it sounded ridiculous. Sorry, I just woke up and I’m tired, you should know I babble when I’m like this.”

“I do, and you’re right, one of the earliest trainings you get in sociology at the Academy is that pretty much any gesture might be rude somewhere, so if someone makes a gesture that would bother you, look at their face – they may just be pointing, or even trying to encourage you.”

“I mean, screw-you can be an encouragement, depending. Anyhow, why are you worrying about what’s the frak-off sign on Jutuneim?”

“Because I don’t want to accidentally stick my ring finger up. I know my…Vwokhu said that my Jotnar was good, but it’s really not very good, not nearly as good as your Archavian. All sorts of things become social taboos even if you’re just among regular people, but I’m going to have to go to the palace, and I don’t want to grab the wrong spoon for the first course, and have them think I’m some sort of uncultured Hoplite.”

Alex walked over to his wife, and hoisted himself up on her right arm. He walked up it until he was on her chest, and deciding that it did not give him a high enough angle, pulled himself up her nightgown, until he was standing on her right breast. This took a good minute, but Rixie never interrupted her husband when he was climbing up her unless she really wanted to.

Alex turned, and looked his wife dead in the eye. “Rixie, knock it off.”

“What?”

“Knock it off! If they think you’re an ‘uncultured Hoplite,’ they’re the ones who made you a Hoplite in the first place, so they can back all the way up with any attitude. And you aren’t an ‘uncultured’ anything. Fuck, you’ve been working for Pryvani for damn near two hundred years at this point, how many formal dinners have you had to put up with? How many chief-high-muckety-mucks have you worked through? You’re literally married to a Senator, the mother of Lord Carey, and a flag Imperator…you are a chief-high-muckety-muck! If I was them, I’d be looking up Hoplite customs and worrying that they’ll commit some kind of unspeakable horrible mistake. You are fine.”

Rixie smiled. “I just…want to impress them.”

“If they aren’t impressed by you, they wouldn’t be impressed by anyone. You’re damn near a Mary Sue some days.”

“Mary Sue…Alex….”

“A character in a story, one that’s too perfect to really exist.”

“I’m not perfect,” Rixie said. “I’ve made too many mistakes for me to count.”

“You put up with me,” Alex said. “That qualifies you for sainthood. Rix….”

“I just…I know what you’re saying. And most of the time I don’t worry. But….”

“But what?”

“I wasn’t good enough for them to keep me in the first place,” Rixie said. Well, murmured. If not for their size difference and the fact that Alex could feel every syllable humming through her chest and shaking his perch, he might not have heard it.

“They were kids, Rix. Imagine Starry in twelve years, trying to raise a kid. Imagine Ryan when he was a teenager trying to be a dad. There are days that I don’t feel like I know what I’m doing with Asteria and I’m a veteran dad who co-raised a hero of the Empire. They didn’t think you weren’t good enough to keep. They didn’t think they were good enough to raise you. And they were right.”

“I know that. But…I don’t know that. Does that make sense?”

Alex smiled, and sat down on his wife’s breast. “It sounds very familiar. Should sound very familiar to you too. Both of us knew we loved each other a long time before we believed we loved each other. Both of us felt like we weren’t enough for the other one when we always had been, and always will be. We were both very wrong about that, and my love, you are very wrong again. And because I’ve been there, I know that won’t make the worry go away. But I wish it would.”

Rixie looked at the little man sitting on her right tit, addressing her as if he really was eye-to-eye with her. It was incredibly normal, so incredibly normal that it was easy to forget how fundamentally weird it was.

It had only been three years since she had really accepted that Alex loved her because he wanted to, not out of fear or misplaced loyalty or a sense of obligation, but because she made him as happy as he made her. (Well, almost as happy. Rixie couldn’t quite believe she made Alex as happy as he made her, but that was because he made her very happy indeed. She was also wrong about that; in truth, there’s no way to measure which partner made the other happier, as the levels were off the charts.)

Everything that had happened in the last twenty-five years, all the good, all the bad, all the joy and all the suffering…all of it was worth it because of the man who sat on her chest, and the two kids they had together.

“I don’t know when it will feel different,” Rixie said, “but even if I’m right…you want me, and that’s what’s important. I need to not forget that.”

“Damn right,” Alex said. “The Senator Alex Carey thinks you’re cute. You can’t complain about that, can you?”

Rixie rolled her eyes. “The Senator Alex Carey is kind of full of himself. He only has that title because his son knew better than to try to put that on me.”

“Right, because Ryan loves you best,” Alex said. “As he should.”

Rixie set her pad down, and ran her finger down her husband’s back. “I just need to remember, even if they meet me again…and reject me, again…that you will always be here for me.”

“Damn right,” Alex said. “You were always there for me.”

Rixie ran her finger down Alex’s back for a moment longer, and said, “You know, if you want to slip between my breasts and head down toward my feet…there’s something about halfway there that I know you like.”

“Your belly-button is swell,” Alex said. “I’ve always said that.”

“Just a bit further than that,” Rixie said. “Of course, if you’re too tired….”

“Have I ever been too tired? I know that the answer is yes, that’s rhetorical. All right, but I’m taking my pajamas off up here, so please, put them on my pillow?”

“Yes, Senator,” Rixie said. “Anything you say.”

* * *

“I know, this must be a shock,” Vwokhu said.

Namø blinked, but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t quite sure that he wasn’t dreaming. Or having a nightmare.

He had a sister? An older sister? And his mother had never told him? How could she?! How could she do that to him, to his father? That was….

“Son,” Akwe said, “you should answer your mother.”

“Sorry. I…yeah. It’s…it’s a shock. Dad, did you know?”

“Of course I did,” Akwe said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Namø said, though both Vwokhu and Akwe noted that it was directed at his father.

Akwe shook his head. “What should we have told you? That you had a sister out there whose name we did not know, and who you would probably never meet?”

“Yes!” Namø said. “Yes, you should have told me that!”

“There were good reasons for you not to know,” Vwokhu said. “You do not know who she is, much less who her father is. Had you gone looking for her and found her…it could have been very, very bad for you, and for all of us.”

Namø looked at his mother. “What, is her dad the Emperor?”

“Prince Kullervo,” Akwe said.

Namø’s head snapped over to his father, and he chuckled. Then he stopped chuckling. Then he stared. It took him a long moment, before he said, “Otna protect us. Really?”

“Yes,” Akwe said. “And you will not share that with anyone outside of this room, not even your children.”

“Of course not,” Katri said.

“Your mother was fifteen, Namø,” Akwe said. “Imagine that in two years, Peppi came to you and told you that she was pregnant. Imagine that she was pregnant by, oh, let us say Prince Kaleva. And that Rajenlif herself was furious at the situation. What would you do? And if, after all of the problems, Peppi sent that child to be with the Hoplites, and was told to keep it a secret…would you expect her to tell her children?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. It’s just…a shock,” Namø said.

“So Mother Vwokhu, you said you had spoken to this woman,” Katri said. “What is she like?”

“She is,” Vwokhu said – and she straightened a bit as she said it – “a fine woman. Indeed, she is quite accomplished. You may know of Lord Carey, and his father, Senator Carey.”

“Yes, of course,” Katri said. “Lord Carey is human, right? Married to Lady Tarsuss’s sister.”

“That’s the one. Your sister is Lord Carey’s mother, Rixie Carey.”

Namø leaned forward. “So she married a human?”

“Yes, she did,” Vwokhu said. “I guess mixed marriages must run in my genes. I married a Melpoman, Rixie married a human; you’re already mixed, Namø, but….”

“My parents certainly think we’re a mixed marriage,” Katri said.

“Exactly. And I’m still so sorry, Katja,” Akwe said.

Katri’s usually-cheerful face grew hard. “Not at all. It is their loss, their failure. I have Namø, and I have you two, and if they cannot love my husband, my children…then they lose.”

“It still hurts, though,” said Vwokhu. “My mother was always angry with me for having sex out of wedlock, for having sex with someone who was not an Otnist, and for daring to marry Akwe. She did not go to the lengths your parents did, but there were times I almost wished she would have.”

“So this Lady Carey….” Namø said, as much to get his mother to stop saying the word sex as anything else.

“Magister-Imperator Carey. She does not have a title, it was bestowed on her son,” Vwokhu said.

“Okay, Magister-Imperator…wait, her name’s Rixie? Like Rixie’s, the bar?”

“Her husband owns Rixie’s. It was named for her. Not the first business to bear her name,” Akwe said.

“Wow…okay, so not only do I have a big sister, but she’s doing a lot better than I am,” Namø said.

Vwokhu laughed. “Namja, you are doing well indeed. You are a teacher, and a good one. You have a fine wife and two fantastic children. You are here helping your father when we need it. Don’t ever confuse fame or wealth for success. I certainly don’t. And don’t for a second think that my joy at reconnecting with her in any way changes or reduces my constant joy at being your mother. I have just known you better, known that you were doing well, that you had married well, that you were a good father, and a good person. I could only hope the same for my daughter, wherever she was. And now…I know that she has managed to do precisely as well, by the only standards that matter.”

Namø allowed a slight smile. “You’re hitting the notes from one of Katri’s favorite sermons.”

“Yes, well, your mother was always smart,” Katri said.

“As are you, Katja,” Vwokhu said.

“So…my nephew is Lord Carey, my brother-in-law is in the Imperial Senate and owns Rixie’s, and my sister is a Flag Imperator.”

“She also has a young daughter who is not quite three,” Vwokhu said. “Biological. Lord Carey was, of course, adopted.”

“I have a niece who’s a hybrid,” Namø said. “That’s…kind of cool. Wonder if she’ll end up as strong as Sorcha Freeman did. You remember the hearing where she broke that table leg like a twig?”

“Yes, I do,” Katri said with a smirk.

Namø rolled his eyes. “All right, I like athletic women. Which is why I married an overland runner,” Namø said.

“True,” Katri replied. “And if she’s your niece – well, Sorcha Freeman’s parents were scientists. I can’t imagine they were top athletes. But your mother cleared half this camp on her own, and the rest with your father’s help, you played knadlegr into college, and your sister was evidently fit enough to be an Imperator. I think your niece might be able to bench-press Archavia when she grows up.”

“My sister,” Namø said, turning the phrase over. “Okay, I’m…still a bit in shock. And I still think you could have told me. And incidentally…if she found you, does she know about….”

“You remember when Lady Tarsuss called?” Vwokhu said. “The next call I received was from Kullervo, and the call after that from Rajenlif herself.”

“You talked…you talked to the Dronung?” Katri exclaimed. “What’s she like?”

“She seemed calm and composed. She wanted assurance that we would not run to the media. And we will not.”

“Of course not,” Namø said. “I…don’t even know what I’d say. So then…nah, I’m not going to get into all that. It’s getting late. But mom…I love you. And I am…I am sorry you had to go through that. But….”

“I probably should have told you,” Vwokhu said. “And I’m sorry. Believe me, I did not keep it secret because I wished to harm you. I kept it secret because I had been told very clearly that this secret must be protected.”

Namø nodded. “Okay. I can understand that,” he said.

* * *

Luviisa would not have expected this; indeed, had you told her even a few days ago that she would be sipping techou and eating cakes while discussing the future of her daughter-in-law, Aud Bjelki, she would have laughed heartily.

But there they were, and Luviisa was finding Audara to be quite charming. If she had not been such a dyed-in-the-wool bigot, Luviisa might have realized that she had badly misjudged her son’s new wife, and indeed, that her prior assumptions about “commoners” were nothing but nonsense.

Alas, Luviisa was a bigot, so she simply wished that she had known Aud’s true parentage sooner.

“Now, I must confess…there will be some difficulty with the noble houses,” Luviisa said. “I can maneuver the Jotnardiggi, I have enough friends there, but by my count, we start with a majority of the noble houses firmly allied with the Empress.”

Aud nodded. “That was my count too. I think we can count on the House of Daiduson and the House of Lavra – Uđđi owes Skor a big favor.”

“Oh? And what makes you think that?”

“Uđđi was cheating on Valtis at the same time Skor was cheating on Venla – and Skor knew. When Karoli was excoriating Skor for being a degenerate, Skor could have thrown it back at her, but he didn’t. Uđđi called him some time later to express his gratitude.”

“And I take it Skor has not called in his marker yet?” Luviisa asked.

“No, he’s just occasionally reminded Uđđi that he could. And since Karoli’s death, they’ve worked closely together in the Senate. When the Senate is doing things, that is.”

“Good. Still, we are two houses short.”

“Not three?” Aud asked.

“The House of Throden-ColVanos will get no vote on whether it is the true heir to the House of Throden. They will ask for one, but there is precedent aplenty. I count nine established houses, the last is in dispute.”

“All right,” Aud said, looking over her notes. “The House of Oester is obviously out. The House of Olmøs is out too – there is no chance Vynamønen votes against his daughter’s grandmother-in-law. At least not if his vote matters.” She thought for a bit. “I do wish there was a way that I could I could steer Ljied toward reconciliation. But there is no way she supports the House of Aljansen, even if it would benefit Riggu.”

“No, probably not,” Luviisa said. “Of course…well….”

Aud looked up at her mother-in-law. “Well?”

Luviisa sighed. “Audara…how far are you willing to go to make this happen?”

Aud leaned back, and looked at Luviisa carefully. She had hated Luviisa for most of her adult life. But hate is not the opposite of love.

“What do you mean?”

Luviisa stroked her chin. “I have contacts. People who…have a certain position on the purity of titan and Jotnar blood.”

“I do too,” Aud said. “I’m not sure if we’re talking about the same people.”

Luviisa leaned forward. She had been an enemy of Aud for years. But perhaps she had also been an ally….

“They may be. Are they ’Those who dare to question if wood and fire can be joined?’”

Aud looked her mother-in-law dead in the eye. “’They are scorned and mocked, and yet they resist the urge to yield.’”

“’They speak the noble truth; their resistance guides them true.’” Luviisa said, completing the countersign. “Audara, I did not know you were a resister. But now that I know….”

Luviisa smiled. “You’re Stormcloud, aren’t you?”

Aud tried to feign impassivity. “I…you know this is not to be shared.”

“Generally, no. But we have identified each other; the rules allow it, in cases of close relations.”

When Aud didn’t answer, Luviisa said, “Stormcloud has connections in the Imperial Family and in the Senate. But I know from other contacts I have that they are not a part of the Imperial Family, nor are they a Senator. And I have seen their intelligence as part of the broader spectrum. They are careful, meticulous – and they don’t waste time with irrelevancies.”

Aud sighed. “My communications must be giving away too much personal information.”

“No, I have more than the usual access to this. You see, I am Keystone.”

Aud stopped cold. “You…you are Keystone?”

“Yes. Only one other person knows that. You are the second. And so you really do understand what I am saying when I tell you that I have connections.”

Aud chuckled nervously. “I would have approached you. Well, Keystone.”

“As well you should have. And as you are. You know, I had hoped at one time that Stormcloud was Skor. Stormcloud was Jotnar, I thought. But…well, I love my son….”

“Skor does not always realize that we are at war,” Aud said.

“Exactly,” Luviisa nodded. “A war for the soul of Jotnarherath, and the Empire. With fortune on our side, we may save both…but I will settle for Jotnarherath.”

“As will I…Mother Luviisa.”

Luviisa nodded. “I will reach out to Dauntless and Nomad, but I expect that they will give me the go-ahead. Aud…I will warn you that this could become messy, and right quick.”

“We fight for the future of the Jotnar people, for the future of the titans, for the future of all pure people. If I must lay down my life in service, then I shall.”

Luviisa clapped a hand on Audara’s shoulder. “Spoken like a true Dronung, Well-Born Audara.”