《The Lady's Handbook of Intrigue and Murder (High Fantasy Politics)》12: Marriage Muse (Part 2)
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In the days following the feast, the assembly of aristocrats slowly, but surely, filtered out of Aigis and back to their homes for winter. Some of their noble kin were left behind, either to speak with her brother upon his return, or to serve as guests over winter due to poor harvests from their fiefs. Mydea allowed them to stay, for every favor accrued only strengthened their hand.
With winter upon them, it was rare to have a day of blue skies with the clouds rolling by. It might have been the last day like it for the year, so Mydea did not hesitate to visit her brother’s personal gardens that morning.
“The gardener has been taking good care of Lord Aspyr’s plants,” Troia commented.
Mydea selected stalks of sage and their rich royal blue flowers, rubbing them together. She sniffed, and smiled when she picked up on the scent of mint. “These will do nicely.”
“As you say, my lady.” Troia accepted the plants from Mydea, before placing them in the basket she held.
Her brother loved his flowers, and none save his own sisters dared pick them for fear of his sword. At the thought of her siblings, a pang of melancholy struck Mydea. She could not remember the last time she and Aspyr had been apart for so long, if it had ever happened. Certainly not since they had entered the Thalassian Athenaeum.
I wonder how Chalsi is faring? Mydea thought. When all three of them had attended together, the enemies of their family much preferred to point their plots at Mydea and Aspyr rather than Chalsi, but now her younger sister was alone at school. She hadn’t mentioned any problems in her last letter at least.
The sting of cold air intruded the house of glass and borrowed heat, and Mydea glanced at the entrance. “Father?”
“It’s Aspyr,” he said, pointing at the clear glass roofing.
Her brother and his escorts—a lance of winged knights—looked like falling stars from a cloud. It was not Aelisium that had come north, just one of its subordinate clouds, but it still left Mydea uneasy. Why would the Empress send her brother off with such honors? What was so important that She would send an emissary too?
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The last time the Empress had turned Her attention this far north was thirteen years prior, as part of Her Highness’ royal progress through the Deeplands. She had visited those lords external who guarded the Aigean Range and the Empire’s northern passes against nomadic incursion, before taking Lord Eminent Pleonexia’s brother as a princely consort. Had her brother been so wildly successful that he had become a favorite at court? Worse, was the Empress somehow smitten, and Aspyr now her consort?
There was scarcely a worse outcome. They had not the resources to be embroiled in the intrigues of the Imperial City! To try was to court death from above—for no one rose high in Her Highness’ favor without making powerful enemies—and from below, as their vassals grew even more unruly at their split attentions. Yet neither could they deny the Empress Her desires, not with the state of their house. For the good of the family, the only choice would be to let Aspyr face the court alone and without aid, but such was a death sentence.
Am I really to sacrifice my own twin on the altar of power? Mydea thought.
“Calm yourself,” her father said, squeezing her shoulder with his large hand. “Whatever it is the Empress wants, we’ll find out soon enough.”
She forced her heart to slow with a deep breath, unclenching her fists. Her nails had left ugly red nips on her palms. “You’re right,” Mydea said. Nothing was certain yet. “We should go greet them.” They exited the glasshouse and made their way to the courtyard to receive Aspyr and his guests.
It was no knight who led the Empress’ retinue alongside her brother, but a woman draped in silk, with burnished copper for skin, and dark hair that looked soft to touch. She was dressed in a clingy pale beige gown with a plunging neckline, and a simple locket that naturally drew the eyes down with it. All at once Mydea felt conscious of the drab, woolen rags she’d chosen for the day.
Mydea curtseyed on cue, first to her brother, then the woman. “Aigis is yours, my lord.”
The woman returned the gesture perfectly, though did not dip her head so low.
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“We welcome you to our home, Lady Lara,” Aspyr said to the woman. “My sister, and lady advocate for the past month and a half, Lady Mydea. Sister, this is Lady Lara of the House Eminent Luxuria, and a High Stewardess in service to Her Highness.”
Mydea had to keep her jaw from dropping. “I must beg your forgiveness then. The castle is in no state to receive a lady of your stature.”
Lara graced them with a hint of a smile men would die in droves for. “I could not possibly fault a guest of Her Highness.”
“There must be some mistake,” Father said with a frown. “We’ve not received any summons.”
“I have,” Aspyr said, producing a scroll. “The Empress commands that a daughter of House Kolchis present herself at court.”
Lara tilted her head towards Mydea. “I suppose that would be you?”
“The matter is not settled,” Aspyr said before their father could say another word. “I will have to discuss with my family.”
“Of course, though I advise you to decide quickly. We must leave in a few hours if we’re to catch the city before nightfall,” Lara said. “I can procure anything one should need during their stay in the Seraglio, but one would still need time to pack their personal effects and those things with sentimental value.”
Mydea’s mind screeched to a halt as she processed Lara’s words. “The Seraglio?” Mydea repeated. Only members or potential members of the imperial harem resided there, and while the tastes of some monarchs had been known to run both ways, the current Empress was not one of them.
“The Greater Seraglio,” Lara clarified. “The daughter of House Kolchis would be one of many candidates being considered for Her Highness’ kin.”
Mydea frowned. That made no sense. Kolchis was a house external, but still largely irrelevant to the grand schemes of the Empire, and certainly nowhere near important enough to be honored with an imperial marriage. Nor, Mydea thought, stealing a glance at Lara, can my beauty be considered exceptional.
She took a deep breath and considered the situation.
No one in the Imperial Family could form a harem until they donned the Starlight Crown, not even the Empress’ own children. That meant they were being considered for one of the unwed princes, and there were only so many of those still unattached, but old enough to wed. Perhaps House Kolchis had only been invited as a courtesy? That made marginally more sense than a real offer of alliance.
“Perhaps you should like to tour the castle while you wait?” Aspyr asked Lara.
“That would be wonderful,” Lara answered politely.
Aspyr turned to his most trusted manservant, a squat man five years his senior. “Jorgan, kindly see to it.”
Jorgan bowed, then gestured for Lara to follow him. Her brother’s valet could keep her occupied safely for a while at least. Though strawborn, his proximity as a valet ensured he’d been taught the proper speech and courtesies necessary for interacting with an aristocrat.
Mydea let out a long, low breath that carried her whispers to Troia. “Return to my room and pack my things.”
Father glanced at her and frowned. She ignored his look.
“Hold your peace until we are with Grandmother. I shall save myself the trouble of speaking twice,” Aspyr said to her and her father as they walked into the keep. They followed after him, carried along familiar routes. “Have you any news for me?”
“Your sister’s done marvelously beating your vassals back into line,” Father said.
“Of course she did. She’s my sister,” Aspyr said.
“I did passably,” Mydea said. “The work is half-done, and we’ll have much more to do over winter.” She gave a summarized accounting of what had come to pass.
Aspyr snorted when she finished. “Only you would call all that you’ve achieved in one trip ‘half-done’.”
“My actions gave us a chance to survive. We are not secure yet,” Mydea shot back as they entered their grandmother’s room.
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