Rajenlif walked out of the secure comms room of the ISS Bay of Tuaut and turned to her husband.

“We need to return to Jutuneim,” she said. “It’s urgent.”

It was a testament to Tiernan’s trust in his wife that before asking any questions, he pushed a button on his desk. “Yes, sovereign?” a voice replied.

“Abort your current course, and set a return course for Jutuneim, best speed. Alert Naesavarna Control that we will need priority landing clearance.”

“Aye, sir,” the voice said.

He looked back to the Empress. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Rajenlif’s voice quavered. “Tursas Sjedi…he’s dead.”

“Oh, no,” Tiernan said. “Sit down, Raja. Can I get you anything?”

“No, no. I just…I met with him yesterday morning, he was in perfect health! He wanted to retire so he could have time with his family, and I’d agreed to a transition timetable. He was going to leave office in eight months, and then….”

Rajenlif wiped her eyes. “He wasn’t just a regent. I’ve known him since we were kids, you know that. We’d always play when we went to visit Grandma Tulja and Grandpa Usko. And…he was fine yesterday. Just fine. Wanted to retire, but…otherwise fine.”

Tiernan poured some glowberry schnapps, and set it in front of Rajenlif. “Did they say what happened?”

“A stroke, maybe an aneurism. The High Coroner called me immediately after notifying Lady Sjedi, he hasn’t completed his autopsy yet. I’m going to have to pull myself together; I need to call Lera and give her my condolences.”

Tiernan patted her hand. “Yes, you do. And you’ll manage it. But someone needs to give you condolences first, and Raja…I’m so sorry.”

“I’m tired of losing people I love, my husband.”

“As am I, my wife.”

* * *

“That is truly awful news. Please let the family know that our house will help them in any way we can. Of course, you have others to notify before the official announcement, thank you.”

The Hersvru of Tromsø closed the connection and sat down heavily in her chair.

It was awful news. She had known Tursas for many years, and had always gotten along with him. They didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but that didn’t mean she lacked respect for him, nor that she had wished him any ill.

She rubbed her eyes. She knew that this was the path they had to follow; she knew that this was the only way. The Federation had destroyed any chance of an overt rebellion, and the war with the Insectoids had convinced too many titans that humans were not just equals, but equal partners. And that included the titans in Jotnarherath, who had been early to rally behind human equality, seeing it as a thumb in the eye of the Empire.

She wished she could have simply picked up a pad, called everyone in Jotnarherath, and explained why it was that humans had to be kept at a distance. Not because humans weren’t sentient – they were beyond that argument now, they obviously were. And not because humans were too different from titans to mesh; Ler and Dunnermac and Avartle were all different, and she had no concerns about them.

No, humans weren’t different – they were too similar. That may sound ridiculous at first blush, but Luviisa Aljansen was a subtle thinker, and she understood what so many did not: The very similarity of humans would make it easier for them to affect and change Jotnar culture, and the Jotnar people.

Oh, hybridization was part of that, and she did worry about the long-term health of Jotnar flesh. But more than that, she knew that when Imperials moved to Jotnarherath, they soon found themselves adopting Jotnar ways. The Jotunn always viewed Aemet with a bit of suspicion and a careful hand on their purses. But humans…humans did not set off the same alarm bells. They were small, they were cute, and by the time you realized the impact they were having on your society….

No, she didn’t celebrate this day. This was a sorrowful day, a bitter day. It was a shame that Tursas Sjedi was gone.

But there was no other option. This was a battle. Few battles end without casualties; if you are going to fight them, you have to decide whether to inflict them or absorb them.

And given the choice, and with a heavy soul…Luviisa would inflict them.

* * *

Pryvani waited patiently for the call to connect. She hated to interrupt this, but there were duties to attend to.

There were always duties to attend to.

On the fourth chime, the channel opened.

“Hey, boss, what’s going on?” Rixie asked. Behind her a fire danced, and an older woman helped a toddler hold a stick steady.

“I could ask you the same question,” Pryvani said.

“We’re making smors. There’s a good Jotnar analogue of marshmelons…er, marchmellows. Is that right Alex?”

“Close enough,” a small, distant voice replied.

“Isn’t that the dessert with a cookie and gok’ma?” Pryvani asked.

“You never forget anything, do you?” Rixie said.

“Not if I can help it, darling. Now, I’m sorry to tell you, there’s some unfortunate business to attend to.”

Rixie sighed, and began to walk away from the fire. Lowering her voice, she said, “I told you that I shouldn’t take another vacation so quickly. Does this require me to come back?”

“No, no, it’s nothing to do with your work; I just received word that Lord Sjedi has died.”

“Oh no!” Rixie said. “What happened?”

“They aren’t sure, looks like a stroke. At his age, it’s not surprising, unfortunately,” Pryvani said. “I do wish that I was not as close to his age as I am.”

“Only one way to avoid that,” Rixie said. “Well, that’s too bad, he was a good ally in the human liberation fight, and everything I ever saw was that he was an honorable man. His son is Rajinvalt Sjedi, if I remember.”

Pryvani chuckled. “Your memory is as good as mine, Rixie. Rajinvalt is not his father, unfortunately, though you know as well as I do that he isn’t particularly bad for a head of one of the families.”

Rixie nodded. “Just not particularly good. All right, is there anything you need me to do? We should have a dossier on Rajinvalt ready for you to pull, I make sure to keep first heirs current.”

“I’ve already pulled it, excellent work as always, including information about some potential pressure points should we ever need them. No, this is about you and your husband, and your duties at this moment.”

Rixie blinked. “Say what now?”

“It is expected that each noble house shall send a representative to visit the new heir and offer condolences. Ideally, this is a relative, and ideally, the meeting is held within two weeks, though the rules can be bent if need be. Your son is deployed and Thyllia is managing his house while he is gone, and if I know my sister, I know that she will want to make the trip on Ryan’s behalf….”

“…which is more travel than she should be doing this close to her due date,” Rixie said. “Alex and I are in Jotnarherath already, we can meet with Rajinvalt Sjedi on the way home.”

“Excellent. As you are meeting, I would ask a favor; I would ask that Alex meet him on behalf of the House of Carey, and that you serve as my representative for the House of Tarsuss.”

“Why…why me?” Rixie asked.

“First, because my schedule is full for the next month. Second, because I want your opinion of him before I meet with him. And third, because the person who I truly want to send condolences to is Rajenlif, and you are my best emissary to her.”

“Am I a close enough relative?” Rixie said. “I mean, Thyllia isn’t a Tarsuss.”

“Technically true, but I was her guardian, and in the complex rules of etiquette regarding these matters, she would be considered somewhere between daughter and niece, as well as half-sister; you are her mother-in-law, which makes you an equal of me. And you’re the mother of Lord Carey, which makes you a higher-ranking representative than any of my children, at least until Odin marries.”

“Okay, right, this is Aementi code. What about Jotnar rules?”

Pryvani smiled. “Jotnar rules hold that if you name a person your representative, they are. I could hire your mother to go in my stead, and she would be greeted as my representative. In the early days after reunification, some noble Imperial families hired virtual strangers. But not the Tarsuss family; we are many things, but we are not rude.”

“Never,” Rixie said. “All right, we were planning to stay here a few more days, is this going to get in the way?”

“Not at all, if you can reach Naesvarna in five days, that will be right after the memorial ceremony, a perfect time to gather.”

“Good,” Rixie said, “because I know that Asteria is enjoying this a lot more than she’ll enjoy that.”

“I’m sure,” Pryvani said. “I’ll send details through presently, once I tell Thyllia that she needs to stay here under Brinn’s watch. And Rixie?”

“Yeah, boss?”

“It’s going well, I see.”

Rixie smiled, and nodded. “Very. Thank you.”

Pryvani’s smile grew wistful. “You deserve this. More than anyone I know, Rixie. I’m so glad.”

* * *

Rixie walked back to the fire, where Asteria was trying to put out a flaming amijdismarf by blowing on it. Since the amijdismarf was approximately a meter square, this was not working quite so well as it would with a human-sized marshmallow. Vwokhu laughed, and grabbed a pan.

“Starry, blowing on it will just make the flame worse. Here, put it in here,” she said, letting the little girl put the stick into the pan. Vwokhu put the lid on top.

“The air helps the fire burn, little one. And when you blow, what comes out of your mouth?’

“Air!” Asteria said.

“That’s right! So the way you put it out is you put it in this pot, and you put the lid on, and then there’s just the air in the pot. And after the amijdismarf burns for a bit….”

Vwokhu lifted the lid, where the confection was no longer aflame, but simply charred.

“Oh no!” Asteria said. “It’s all black!”

“That’s okay for s’mores, Starry!” Alex called. “It gives ‘em character.”

“It’s true,” Akwe said. “I have always liked my amijdismarfid burnt. Now, you have the cookie and the gok’ma, Namø?”

“Right here pat,” Namø said, passing them over. Vwokhu helped Asteria to make a sandwich from them, squishing it together until the gok’ma began to melt. She bit into them, and her eyes went wide.

“These are good! Mom, these are good, try them!” she said, breaking it in pieces and handing Rixie a crumbled, sticky mass of amijdismarf, cookie, and gok’ma.

“They are,” Rixie said, taking the piece and eating a bit. She carefully peeled off a largish crumb, dipped it in gok’ma, and scooped up some of the confection, and brought it over to Alex. “Chef, your opinion?”

Alex took the two pounds of Jotnar s’more from Rixie, and nodded. “These cookies remind me of back oblaten, which is actually just about perfect as a substitute – they shouldn’t have a lot of taste, they should just carry the amijdismarf and the gok’ma. And the amijdismarf must have…is there pinu flavoring in it?”

“If it’s a Jotnar sweet, there’s probably pinu in it,” Vwokhu said.

“Well, it works well. Frankly, I think we’ve invented better s’mores than Earth, and that’s saying something. Of course, Starry was the cook, so she’s probably why.”

“Let’s make some more!” Asteria said. Well, she was speaking Archavian, and quickly at that, so she actually said, “Wεyzo шεκ qαnα э|ziэ.”

Alex broke out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Rixie asked.

“Oh, it’s just…that’s…okay, you have to know English to get why, but Asteria just named these for the Imperial market.”

“Why’s that?” Vwokhu asked, helping Asteria to spear another amijdismarf.

“These are called s’mores in English, and that’s because you want more of them – in English, you’d say you want some more of them,” Alex said. “Say it fast, you’ve got s’mores. And that’s exactly what Starry just said – she wants smimo maes, except she ran it together into s’maes. And that’s what these are from now on – s’maesi.”

“You hear that Starry? You’re inventing words!” Rixie said.

“Yeah, I know,” Asteria said. “Think I can catch this on fire again, gramma?”

Vwoku’s voice caught for just a moment, before she said, “I think you probably can. Let’s find out.”