Luviisa had not shown the slightest hint of being rattled by Rajenlif. Indeed, she had terminated the call with a gleeful grin, hoping that Rajenlif realized that she had been outplayed.

But as the opening hours of the conclave droned on, Luviisa had the time to reflect on what Rajenlif said. And despite herself…she found her stomach was in knots.

It wasn’t that Rajenlif had found out about the plot to install Aud. That was going to be the endgame of today; Luviisa had already placed that marker, and it would play out however it would play out. No, that did not bother her, nor did the potential fallout of the move she was prepared to make.

No, the problem was not that; the problem was that Rajenlif had mentioned the murders.

She had tried very hard not to think of them as murders, but that is what they were. She had kept the transactions at arm’s-length; they had used money that could not be traced to her. The communications had gone through multiple pass-throughs; the Imperators knew that Cornerstone was a major player in the Noble Resistance, and if Rajenlif had thought she was Cornerstone, she would have mentioned it.

But still…pull on a loose thread, and sometimes it pulls clean. And sometimes the whole sweater unravels. If they knew that there were murders, if they could prove it, then going ahead with this…it would put her very much in the crosshairs of the investigation, her and Audara. Rajenlif had offered her an out, one that would allow her to save face, to avoid catastrophe for the House of Aljansen. And Rajenlif would be good as her word.

If this worked, Aud would be Dronung. And the murder charges would be a sign of Imperial interference, a bloody shirt to wave. But of course, they would also be true, and if they could marshal evidence against her….

The safe play was to hold off on the motions. To cut a deal with Rajenlif. To retire, pass the primacy to Skor, and…well, if the offer was what she assumed it would be, to go home, take her axe, and ritualistically cut her wrists open. To wash the sin from her family with her blood. And that was fine; she was old, and she had at most two dozen years before her.

But that would cede the most important battle to Rajenlif without a fight. It would end their chance to build an anti-integration majority in the Jotnardiggi, to put an anti-integration sovereign on the Carba Throne. Vallero, sister of Rhionne, sister-in-law of a human, aunt to freaks of nature…she would be the Dronung. And the people of Jotnarherath would bow down to a woman who accepted the perversion of pure Savarnan flesh.

There are things worth, not just dying for, but risking dishonor and destruction for. And for Luviisa Aljansen, the Pure Flesh of Otna was that thing, the only thing worth more than the House of Aljansen itself.

(That the flesh of the House of Aljansen was impure, with countless “aemet” ancestors – you are attempting to use logic when dealing with a bigot. Bigotry is illogical; it is not based on anything other than purest vanity, the belief that the string of molecules that defines you is somehow more important and better than the string of molecules that defines your neighbor. If you are of the same species, those strings of molecules differ by a vanishingly small amount, and if you are of different species, those strings of molecules are so radically different that it’s like comparing apples and molybdenum. Either way, there’s no logical point to bigotry; if there was, bigots wouldn’t have to spend so much time trying to convince you of it.)

So right on schedule, six hours into the conclave, Luviisa waited for a brief break in discussion, and said, “If the House of Aljansen could be indulged…before this meeting, I received word that there should presently be a report on SAV-11 that would be of interest to all houses. I would ask support to have this report shown in the conclave.”

Kullervo had been about to move on to the next point on the agenda; he looked up at Luviisa. “This is unusual, Lady Aljansen. Can you tell us what this report is about?”

“It is of interest to the Ten Houses,” Luviisa repeated.

“Governor-Regent,” said Uđđi Lavra, “I have also heard about this report. The House of Lavra would support the House of Aljansen in their request.”

Kullervo studied Luviisa, studied her closely.

This was a trap.

This was definitely a trap.

He looked down, for a moment, and Nyyriki Daiduson said, “If the Houses of Aljansen and Lavra support this, the House of Daiduson will as well.”

Kullervo thought about asking for a brief recess; he looked over at Tellervo, who appeared as confused and uneasy as he was. Whatever this was about, it couldn’t be positive.

But to figure out what’s inside a trap, sometimes you have to spring it.

“The House of Aljansen has made this request, supported by the Houses of Lavra and Daiduson. In the spirit of comity and respect, we will view the report.”

Kullervo twiddled with the display controls, turning off the running list of agenda items, and switching over to SAV-11’s feed. They were running a commercial before the top-of the hour; he swung his chair around, as did Tellervo.

“This can’t be good,” his wife muttered.

“No,” Kullervo said. “I don’t….”

And then it hit him. He looked back at Tellervo. He mouthed one word.

“Aud.”

A breaking news sounder played as the next hour began. “This is Gerr Njordsen, with SAV-11 News. SAV-11 news can confirm at this time that Audara Aljansen, wife of Sen. Skorsjad Aljansen, is in fact the daughter of Prince Kullervo Throden. With me is Gudda Nieadlgisl, who interviewed Ms. Aljansen, Gudda, I understand that this has been confirmed by the Palace.”

“That is correct, Gerr,” Neadlgisl said. “We will be playing the interview in just a moment, but I did want preface this by stating that Audara Aljansen’s parentage was confirmed this morning by Dronung the Sixteenth Rajenlif; she stated, for the record ‘Aud Bjalki Aljansen is my niece, and my brother’s son. I regret that she felt the need to use subterfuge, and to delay her announcement until my brother was in a conclave, and could not respond himself; I have told Aud directly that I am not opposed to her announcing her relation to my brother, and that he has demurred only because of concerns over his family’s welfare, including hers. And if this was important to her, I wish she had done it in a way that showed concern for her family’s welfare. But Audara has made her choice, and while I may be disappointed in the way she has carried it out, that does not change the fact that Princess Audara is a Princess Royal of Jotnarherath.’ I should note as well, High-born Rajenlif has stated that she will sit down with me for an interview later today, and while she cannot speak for her brother, she expects he will be willing to as well.”

Tellervo watched her husband watch the report. She hoped he realized that she was not angry, not embarrassed. He had been honest with her; this had always been something that could surface. She had understood and accepted that, and she had no regrets. She knew that Rajenlif was not asking Kullervo to join her for the interview, but telling him to join her; Tellervo resolved that she would join him, whether Rajenlif wanted her there or not.

* * *

Rajenlif watched Aud’s interview impassively; her niece was skilled at communication, that was certain. She took notes as the interview wound on, with Audara making at first a subtle, then direct argument that she should be given the right to succeed Rajenlif – and making it on exactly the grounds Rajenlif had predicted.

That helped. She had already warned Azhborn to start contacting every friendly member of the Jotnardiggi the second the story broke, and Azhborn had already relayed back a statement of support from Kuthi Flagðnie, and an apology and offer of resignation from Kjeda Øybjirnsen. Rajenlif sent back a terse message to Azhborn asking her to give her support to Øybjirnsen; after all, the fault was hers.

She had let Jotnarherath run on autopilot. And for the most part, it had run just fine. But she was supposed to be more involved than that; she was supposed to be pushing, not for “fine,” but for “excellent.” The resolution that passed was the sort of thing that she would have noticed had she been truly paying attention; it was the sort of thing she would have questioned, would have researched, would have known about before it came to this. And yes, her staff maybe should have caught it – but then, how many members of her staff were complete strangers to her? How many had she met but once or twice?

She knew Aud’s demands would resonate because she had allowed things to drift; she held Jotnarherath first in her heart, but in her head…the fight in the larger Empire for human rights had dominated the last twenty years. And that was as it should be – but it had caused her to lose track of her home province.

And she had grown up on the palace grounds, had played in the woods almost every day as a child. Vallero had spent a great deal of time there…but it was only one of her homes. And she would be Empress Regnant. How many generations until the Emperor or Empress saw Jotnarherath as just another province among many?

No, she had failed her people. She understood that, as Aud’s argument reached its apex. She would still fight, for her family and for Jotnarherath – because what Aud wanted was still wrong. But that did not mean that Rajenlif had done right.

* * *

Rixie stared at Pryvani’s pad as the interview came to an end. “Well,” she said, after a long pause, “great time to decide I should find out who my family is, huh?”

Pryvani didn’t say anything; Rixie looked away from the pad, and said, “You know, Pryvani…I always wondered how it was you were so calm about being Syon Fand’s daughter. How you managed not to blow up a planet in anger about it, knowing who you were related to. And I’m still wondering, because I kind of want to go blow up a planet right now.”

Pryvani smiled tightly. “I’m sorry to tell you, darling, but I’ve felt like that for almost thirty years.”

Rixie looked up, and smiled back. “Well, at least it isn’t just me.”

“What comes next?” Pryvani said.

Rixie sighed. “I assume Rajenlif is going to be interviewed, going to reject this. She’ll rally the Jotnardiggi, they’ll probably reject Audara before the end of the day. But like I said, that just throws this into chaos.”

“You mentioned before that there might be a different way.”

Rixie nodded. “There might. But…well, it’s going to be up to my father or Tellervo or Princess Gunvjer to realize it. Because with that interview…they’re moving today.”

* * *

Kullervo Throden, Governor-Regent and Prince Royal of Jotnarherath, waited a good long moment before turning back around. He let SAV-11 talk about the statement already issued by the Kuthi, stating that the Jotnardiggi would not stand for this and would not support her. Once that statement was floating in the ether, he turned around, and switched back to the agenda.

“Thank you, Lady Aljansen,” Kullervo said, calmly. “That was indeed an informative news story.”

“Governor-Regent,” Luviisa said, “I assume you do not take issue with the report?”

“Why, Luviisa, were you hoping I would be angry or defensive about this? No, no. Aud is my daughter, and she obviously let you know that. I will note, for the record, that she is the same person she was when you forbade Sen. Aljansen to date her; I find it rather despicable that you think her worthy of being Dronung now when she was not fit to darken your doorstep at this time last year. I would go quite a bit further beyond the bounds of decorum than I already have, but you are about to make a motion questioning the House of Throden-Colvanos’s right to be here at all, aren’t you?”

Kullervo had delivered this statement in a placid, even tone, but his gaze never broke from Luviisa’s. He had wanted to punch Luviisa on his daughter’s behalf for many years. That Aud was now allied with Luviisa – well, his daughter had always wanted Skor. And this is how she’d won Luviisa over. And his heart was broken by it – but his heart had been broken many times. He was used to it. And he was fraked if he was going to forgive Luviisa just because his daughter had betrayed Jotnarherath.

Luviisa was briefly without words; she had expected many possible reactions, but she had not expected Kullervo to be angry on Audara’s behalf. She gathered herself, and said, “Governor-Regent, the House of Throden-ColVanos is not a legitimate House of Jotnarherath. The House of Throden, by resolution of the Jotnardiggi, continues to serve as the sovereign house. Therefore, I object to the House of Throden-ColVanos serving, and move that the House of Throden replace it. Under the rules of succession for the House of Throden, the seat would be held by the eldest living grandchild of Dronung the Ninth Hirera who has not disclaimed the seat. You could make a claim on it, I suppose, but….”

“I am not stealing my sister’s seat,” Kullervo said.

“You disclaim it. So much the easier,” Luviisa said. “By rule, the House of Throden-ColVanos has no vote on whether it may continue to remain on the Council of Ten.”

“This is true,” Kullervo said, evenly, flipping through his rules. “But as Governor-Regent and representative of the Dronung, I wish to assert that I continue to moderate this meeting, regardless of my House’s status.”

Luviisa could see Uđđi Lavra preparing to object, but she gently shook her head. Let him moderate, for what good it would do. “I agree, and have no objection.”

“Very well,” Kullervo said. “Is there support of the position of the House of Aljansen? Well, there are four hands. The Houses of Daiduson, Lavra, Sjedi, and Umbas support it. However, under the rule, there is to be discussion by all houses not challenged, in order of alphabet. Lady Aahchi, you have the room.”

Tellervo smiled at her husband, a warm and tender smile. “Governor-Regent,” she said, “I submit that the five houses allied against the Dronung are committing treason. The House of Aahchi will not forget or forgive your actions today. You know for a fact that the resolution you cite has already been rejected by the Kuthi; you know the Jotnardiggi will reject your attempt to change our Dronung’s successor. But you persist. Why? I can only guess. Perhaps you think given enough time, the people of Jotnarherath will rally to your side. But we are not the simple, provincial bigots you seem to think we are. We are part of a wider Empire, and a wider galaxy. The House of Aahchi will stand against this motion, now, and for as long as it takes to beat it back.”

Tellervo sat down, and Kullervo smiled at her. If it was war they wanted, then they got war. And his wife would fight harder than they could imagine.

“Lady Aljansen,” Kullervo said.

Luviisa simply said, “I have made my motion, I need make no statement beyond it.”

Kullervo sighed slightly; they were looking to push it through quickly. Nyyriki Daiduson also demurred, and passed on the chance to speak.

Fortunately, the next person on the list was used to speaking for long stretches. And she had caught the strategy at the same time Kullervo had.

“Sublime Varva, Lady Hannøsdat,” Kullervo said. “You have the room.”

Varva Hannøsdat nodded, and said, “Let us first discuss the first chapter of Otna’s revelation. This will take some time for us to do justice to it, but it is important that we recognize the deep and abiding faith Otna had in his people. The poem of four hundred verses begins, ‘Hwaet! Come now….’”

* * *

The Musu’s shuttle left the docking bay, and dropped toward Naesavarna. It would land in about twenty-five minutes; it would take another ten or fifteen minutes for Rajenlif to get to the building where the Ten were meeting. She had no idea how quickly things would move, but given how frontal Audara’s statements had been, she expected Luviisa would be pushing quickly to discommend the House of Throden and ColVanos, at least within Jotnarherath. She would reverse this decision; it would not last the day. But the damage would be done; the last years of her rule would be spent trying to keep Audara from the throne.

It was a miserable feeling, but it was the truth. There was no other way.

* * *

Varva had spoken for almost forty minutes; it was then quick passes by Skor Aljansen and Rajinvalt Sjedi. Then it was Lady Oester’s turn.

Gunvjer looked out over the table, and said, quietly, “You know, if my husband had not died defending the Empire…Aud Aljansen would have no claim. He was older than her, and he had not declaimed the throne.

“I will tell you all something, something that was told to me in confidence, but under the circumstances, I believe Rajenlif will forgive me. Vallero has stated that as she has no heir, my son or daughter will likely succeed her. If it is my son, he is married to the daughter of Lord Olmøs. If he is named Emperor, and his children succeed…his children will be seven-eighths Jotunn. Few people in this room have such Pure Savarnan Flesh! And yet I find myself hoping that perhaps, Vallero will bypass my son, my daughter, in favor of Hirera, or Ulysses. Because if this is what the pursuit of Pure Savarnan Flesh leads to…then we are worse than the most backward aemet. I echo Lady Aahchi; this will never be forgotten.”

Gunvjer looked like she wanted to say more, but she simply couldn’t get words out; she sat down, and Kullervo said, “Lord Olmøs.”

* * *

Rajenlif wished she was younger. Had she been thirty, she would have sprinted to the squat office building that held the council chamber. But she was no longer thirty, and she knew that she would not be projecting a regal air if she entered with a fractured hip.

“The Kuthi says she can hold a vote as soon as tomorrow,” Azhborn said, as she walked with Rajenlif. “She already has 190 votes against Audara’s claim. She hasn’t even had to whip it, she’s been contacted directly. The only party that doesn’t have a majority against it so far is Defend the Dronung, and that’s just because she hasn’t spoken to most of their members.”

“Please let her know how much I appreciate her support,” Rajenlif said. “And let her know that it is not urgent that she pull the Jotnardiggi back into session; they should simply vote at their next scheduled session. We are not going to panic; there is no need to panic. This is a ridiculous attempt to overthrow the rightful succession of my house, and I am not going to give it the respect of setting my hair on fire.”

Rajenlif had come to this conclusion shortly before landing; assuming Luviisa had the votes to win today, Rajenlif intended to paint it as simply ridiculous and invalid, based on a misreading of the Jotnardiggi’s resolution and an overzealous Hersja of Tromsø. She would tell reporters how silly this whole thing was, how it was obviously not binding, how the Jotnardiggi would probably clarify that at their next sitting, and how that would be that.

She knew that this may not work. The door was still cracked open; there was no good way to slam it shut. But she was fraked if she entered into a debate about Jotnar sovereignty; if they wanted to argue that, she’d note that Audara was working to subvert the clear will of the Jotnardiggi and the Dronung, and that they should be shamed and ignored.

She felt it was likely they would be shamed. She was not so optimistic about them being ignored.

* * *

Namø Olmøs stood up, and said, “You know, there’s something we say on Sininentavas about backstabbers. Unfortunately, I can’t say it without breaking the rules of the council. You know, it’s not about you ruining my daughter’s chances of being Dronung; that’s not the important thing. You see….”

Kullervo had been flipping through the rules as speakers spoke, looking for some way to forestall this decision, to force an adjournment or recess, to allow him to consult with Rajenlif. Or even just to delay until she could get here; she was supposed to be available for an interview that night, she probably would be here in four or five hours. He had determined that as moderator, he would have the right to state the motion, and offer analysis, and entertain amendments; that could at least keep things up in the air for a while.

But as Namø Olmøs talked about how they do things on Sininentavas, Kullervo stopped flipping.

This was inevitable. It was going to go through, no matter how they delayed. And once it went through, the game was afoot. Raja would play it well, but it was still going to cause pain for Jotnarherath.

But there was another way.

He flipped to a rule he’d noted earlier. He had recognized that it couldn’t be used, not in the way he had originally intended, but if he changed his tack, maybe….It was risky; it was very fraking risky. But it could work. Maybe.

“Anyhow, I say to you all, don’t be caught on Sininentavas at night when I’m around. I’m not going to be pleasant,” Namø concluded.

Kullervo knew that this might backfire, and badly. But with the instincts of a Tol-Bot champ or a Knadlegr wing, he knew that it was the best possible play at that particular moment. It wasn’t perfect; it might blow up badly. But if it worked…it would lead to victory.

“The moderator is customarily allowed time to restate the motion, then discuss it before accepting offers of amendments,” Kullervo said. He looked around to his four allies at the table, and smiled slightly. “Restating the motion: The House of Throden-ColVanos will be replaced on the Council of Ten by the House of Throden, represented by the eldest grandchild of Hirera IX, and this person shall be seen by the Council of Ten as the rightful successor to the Dronung. This is the motion as you stated it, Lady Aljansen?”

“It is, Governor-Regent,” Luviisa said. Now would come a very long filibuster by Kullervo, while he waited for Rajenlif to get there. There would be so many amendments, so many challenges, but Aud had prepared her for any deviation; she would object on precedent, and they’d win those. If nothing else, they had the votes.

“The moderator waives his right to speak, and declares no amendments shall be accepted. All in favor? All opposed? By a five-to-four vote, with the House of Throden-ColVanos challenged, the motion prevails.”

The elevator dinged, and the Dronung of Jotnarherath stepped off of it, slightly winded, but otherwise projecting an air of confidence, whether justified or not.

“Ah, my sister, High-dronung Rajenlif,” Kullervo said; if he was surprised, he did not show it. “Welcome to the Council. I am prepared to relinquish my position as moderator in your favor.”

“Governor-Regent,” Rajenlif said, “what business is currently before the Council?”

“High-born Rajenlif,” Luviisa said, “We have been discussing the removal of the House of Throden-ColVanos.”

“Yes, yes, the motion just passed, five to four. It’s in the minutes,” Kullervo said. “As decided, I am willing to stand aside for the head of House Throden, under the rules: the eldest living grandchild of Hirera IX who has not disclaimed the throne.”

Rajenlif paused halfway into setting into her seet, and looked at Kullervo. For one brief moment, she was aghast. Had he…had he been in on this?

But then she thought of how he had restated the motion that had passed…and she sat down. And nodded.

“I took the liberty of having Audara stay on the palace grounds,” said Luviisa, still not quite believing they’d pulled it off. “I will ask for us to jointly summon her.”

“I’m sorry,” Kullervo said, “why are we summoning Audara?”

Luviisa looked at him in confusion. “Because…because we just put her on the Council, as the head of House Throden.”

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t think we did,” Kullervo said. “Indeed, I was just about to note, before I withdrew….”

“What do you mean? We did!” Uđđi Lavra said. “We just voted on it! You said it passed!”

“We just voted to name the eldest grandchild of Hirera IX as head of House Throden,” Kullervo said.

“Right, and that’s Audara Aljansen,” Nyyriki Daiduson said.

“Oh!” Rajenlif said, leaning back. “Oh, dear me. I can see where there is confusion. No, no, Aud is not Hirera’s oldest living grandchild.”

“Rhionne disclaimed the throne,” Luviisa said. “Tiernan said so, explicitly. And under precedent….”

“No, we all agree,” Tellervo said, sitting up slightly, smiling as she realized what was about to happen. “Rhionne disclaimed the throne, I’m sure my Dronung agrees.”

“You’ve admitted that Aud is your daughter! Both of you!” Luviisa said, looking first at Kullervo, then Rajenlif. “You admitted it!”

“Indeed, we did,” Rajenlif said.

“Aud is my daughter,” Kullervo said. “Nobody denies that.”

Luviisa looked at him, and threw her arms up. “Then what the vwof are you saying, Kullervo? That you have another illegitimate child somewhere who’s even older than Audara?”

Kullervo smiled genially, and said, simply, “Yes.”

Luviisa stared at him, that single word echoing around the room. Kullervo chuckled, and said, “Now, they are not on this world right now, and under precedent, this conclave is automatically suspended four days so that they can travel here to take their seat, though I will leave the formal suspension to the moderator, our Dronung.”

“Who…who are they?” Luviisa asked.

Before Kullervo could reply, Rajenlif said, “I’m sorry, I’m not going to give you their name – they have not wanted to share their heritage publicly, and I don’t want the media – or you – yelling at them before I have a chance to break the bad news.”

“Unlike some of my other children,” Kullervo said, “they have preferred to live on their own terms, building their own successes, rather than hoping to steal glory from their aunt. They don’t want to be a sovereign. And who knows? Maybe they’ll refuse, Luviisa, and if so, then we can all fight some more.”

“But for now, the conclave will suspend,” Rajenlif said. “And with that suspension…let me say that the House of Throden-ColVanos will not forget the attack on its dignity today. Generations from now, we will remember what you tried to do. We will remember who stood with us, and who stood against us. You have made a grave mistake; for your grandchildrens’ sake, pray that my grandchildren will forgive you. I will not.”

“And may I add, vwof each of you, individually, forever, for what you’ve just done to my family,” Kullervo added. “You are all lucky that axe dueling is illegal. Especially you, Luviisa. Especially you.”

Rajenlif watched her five opponents rise from the table. Luviisa looked stunned, Skor looked mostly at his mother; Daiduson and Lavra exchanged glances with each other, as if pondering whether they had made a terrible mistake in trusting Luviisa Aljansen. But the most interesting was Rajenvalt Sjedi, who looked at Rajenlif briefly, as if he wanted to say something, but was too chagrined to. He looked bereft.

He looked like a weak link.

Her allies remained briefly; Varva Lavra blessed her and told her she would do whatever she had to do to support the throne, while Namø Olmøs muttered one joke to Kullervo about his virility. Kullervo shook his head, and said, “Namø, I would have traded 80 percent less virility for 15 percent more common sense.”

Tellervo volunteered to ride down with those two; Gunvjer waited just a moment, for the room to be empty, save for the Empress and her brother.

“I should have realized the trap they’d set for themselves. I was so angry I didn’t even think of Rixie. Do…do you think she will….”

“The one time I spoke to her about it,” Rajenlif said, “she expressed a strong interest in following Throdr’s example, and quickly. Of course, that was hypothetical.”

Gunvjer shook her head. “I don’t care about that. I mean…I do, I guess, a little, but…I just meant, will she take on the role, share her secret? If she is Dronung – her experience speaks for itself. She loves the Empire. And it would put a hybrid next in line to the throne, and I think Luviisa would really, really hate that.” Gunvjer smiled, and said, “Honestly, whatever causes Luviisa the most pain is what I’m hoping for.”

Rajenlif smiled, and pulled her daughter-in-law into a hug. “My son would be in full agreement, Gunna. As am I.”

Gunvjer took the elevator, and just Rajenlif and Kullervo remained.

“That was very well-played, Kullo.”

“I hate it,” Kullervo said. “But it was the only way I could see that didn’t leave us vulnerable, at least to Luviisa and Aud. You remember smacking me the night you found out about Aud? You should have smacked me harder. You still can. Raja, this is my frak-up, and I am so sorry.”

Rajenlif sighed. “Rixie and Audara are both your children. They have both been alive for several decades now. They are not a surprise, and not a new and novel vulnerability. The failure is mine; I did not keep a careful eye on her when she married Skorsjad Aljansen. I did not think of what that meant – what she would have had to do to convince Luviisa. Offering Luviisa’s grandchild the throne…that would be the cost. Anything less would not have sufficed. I should have recognized that. And after Antero died…I should have realized the potential danger in that, the potential weakness.”

Kullervo snorted. “In the last year, there’s been a war started, one that took my nephew. I’ve seen you and Tiernan enough; you’ve both aged ten years in the last twelve months. You weren’t lazy, Raja, and you weren’t ‘preoccupied,’ you were mourning Antero, and you didn’t expect my daughter and Luviisa to team up against you in your time of sadness, and to take advantage of Tursas and Ljied dying.”

Rajenlif looked down, and said, “It’s far worse than them taking advantage. The Imperators Corps has opened an investigation. There is a very good chance that Tursas and Ljied were assassinated.”

Kullervo closed his eyes, and sat down heavily. “Vwof me. If they were…could Luviisa have been behind it?”

“There is strong evidence that, at the very least, they knew about it.”

Kullervo rubbed his temples. “So that’s why you didn’t share Rixie’s name with the group.”

Rajenlif smiled tightly. “We are still vulnerable, even if she accepts.”

Kullervo nodded. “I just hope…I hope she can forgive me.”

“If the intelligence is right, this is not just a play for the throne, but an assault on the rights of humans,” Rajenlif said. “If so, then Rixie will accept this burden. She will hate it. But she will accept it.”

“Of course, there’s still a risk if she does,” Kullervo said. “If she takes the throne, she may keep it. It may still be split. I’m hoping she won’t, but….”

“There is a small risk of that, true. But it was still the right decision, Kullo. You were right, this leaves Luviisa with nothing to challenge. We passed the motion, and at least for now, it’s over. When things calm, we can try to reverse it – and I feel sure Rixie will agree with that. But honestly…if I am succeeded by many years of rule by Empress Hyrikken, and the dawn of the ruling House of Carey…well, Jotnarherath could do far worse.”