CHAPTER TWO
 

The next trial for the young Empress came from the same source, but over a more personal matter.  The Minister to the Royal Court tapped on her room before walking in.  "Empress, I've taken the liberty of setting up an appointment for you with the local marriage broker," he said happily.  "She understands that speed is of the utmost essence and has pulled together her most desirable people.  Come, we must hurry.  To be legal for the coronation you must have been married at least five days."  She gave him a horrified look.  He paused and looked at her. "Surely you knew.  Rethna was supposed to tell you of this."

"He did, that doesn't mean I like it."  She stood up and smoothed out her traditional 2-panel skirt and breast cups.  "Is it warm or shouldn't I worry about an over-wrap?"

"Empress."  He frowned at her.  "Most of the Empire considers that a lot of clothing.  Are you sure you want to go out in that?"

"Yes.  For now," she noted.  "When we have to move to a new planet, I'll start by adopting their dress for more formal moments.  For now, these are comfortable.  My magnets fit them.  They're not see-through, like some of the girls around here."  He blushed and coughed.  "What?"

"Empress, you know how one of the species has a specific problem with their hearts if they are not active enough?"  She shook her head.  "Oh, dear.  You were sheltered at your temple.  We have time for this I suppose."  He sat her down and looked down at her like a father would as he explained the Facts of Life to his daughter.  He licked his lips.  "There are three species of people among the Empire, one main and two offshoot that have changed a little due to their planet of colonization.  Among them they have a heart-eating chemical in their bodies that are only worn out when they have sexual interaction.  As such, they have ritualized and formalized prostitution.  You probably ran into one of those, or one of the younger daughters of a few peoples who don't really believe in clothes."  He smiled.  "It's entirely possible that they thought they were being decorous.  You can't dress like that."

"I had no intention of dressing like that," she said, holding in a smile.  "I only ran across a mention of ritualized prostitution before."

"Yes, well, your planet is on the other side of the Empire and down from these planets.  It's fairly sheltered and backwards in some things.  How they manage with only a single husband and wife I don't know.  Now, are you ready?"

She stood up.  "If I must.  Do I have to do more than house and feed them?  Interact?"

"You'd be expected to at least talk with them," he said dryly as he ushered her out, running into Rethna outside by the floating platform car.  "Into the Kabaan, Empress."  She climbed up and picked her seat in the back.  "On the other side, that way no one can shoot the driver and hit you by accident," he noted, helping her into the correct seat.  "I know it is bothersome but that is a rule for your own protection."  He took the other seat and let Rethna sit in the front.  "Let down the curtains."  Rethna did so and the driver inflated the grav-lift, taking off down the main driveway to the palace.  "I know this is strange, Empress, but you *must* try to find at least one wife you can deal with and one husband you can handle.  The others are filler in your household.  Additional guards, secretaries, and the like.  They are there to make your life easier.  You don't even have to set up breeding arrangements for most of them," he said cheerfully, patting her on the knee.

"I'm expected to have how many children?" she asked in alarm.  Her eyes widened. "I don't think I can do that!"

"Empress, they have the right to bring progeny into the marriage," he pointed out.  "With your leave, they can each have one wife or husband of their own, which you don't have to marry but it might be more expedient if you do so.  That way you can claim the issue as yours and theirs.  It's the fastest way to build a large family like you'll need and want."

"I don't like children," she said weakly.  "I never have."

Her Minister to the Royal Court gave her a long look, then leaned closer.  "You will have to have one some day, but it does come with a bright side," he said quietly.  "Because you will be irrational, you will be able to yell at all the courtiers without repercussions.  That is the high point most of the prior women holding your job have seen to having a child.  Even though most of their children have not followed them into the job, they find that it is more than worth it."  He leaned back into his seat.  "When we get there, she will present you with qualifications for first wives first. Those usually are harder to find a good one of.  There are all manner of personality conflicts that can occur if you don't make the right choices.  For now, pick someone you can get along with.  Don't worry about someone who can do business things for you.  Worry about someone who can put up with you while you learn your job.  If you thought the last few days were tiring, wait until you see the problems with the first move in a few months."

She groaned and shook her head, looking at her lap.  "I don't even want to think about that yet.  I'm more concerned with not strangling people before the coronation."

Rethna looked back, giving her a long look.  "You've done amazing so far," he noted.  "Most of the others have thrown many fits about clothes, colors, and other things."

"Speaking of," the Minister put in.  "What colors do you prefer for your coronation?"

She gave him a long look.  "I *prefer* green and silver, the colors of nature and Alia."  He nodded, letting her go on.  "I know that would probably look odd.  So I can settle for blue, green, silver, and black?"

"Two or three is more usual, but we can use the others as patterning and things," he offered.  She relaxed and nodded.  "Your coronation outfit is silver, of course.  It has red embroidery as a matter of tradition.  Also, we'll have to do something about your hair soon."

"My hair is long enough," she told him seriously.

"By law of a former Empress, your hair must be twice the length of your body and *you* may not change it," he informed her.  "You can change it for future generations but not for your  own.  That is the law."  He smirked a little bit.  "The last person who tried also got quite an earful from the traditionalists.  Trust me, we have special things to help you with that much hair, including better anti-gravity pins for it."  She gave him a frown but shook her head.  "It is the law, Empress.  They can have you declared guilty of treason if they push it.   I'm sure you don't *want* to go to the lava pits over your hair?"  She shook her head.  "Then we'll fix that tonight so you can get used to it."

Rethna looked back.  "Plus, you can hide many little weapons in that mass disguised as decorative pins and pieces of fancy."  He gave her a smug look.  "Within two weeks, most of this stuff will be over with. Then you can do mostly whatever your heart wants, within reason."

"Wonderful," she sighed, looking around as they pulled into the courtyard of a large building.  "Are we here?"

"We are," Rethna told her, getting out once they landed to raise the curtains and help her out.  "I like that outfit on you.  The style suits you, Empress."

"Thank you."  She groaned as she saw the avaricious look the woman meeting them was wearing.  "Is this the only place?" she asked Rethna before they got to the doorway.  He shook his head.  "Will we be going there?"  He nodded.  "Thank you.  I like having you as my guide.  You keep me from wanting to hurt people."  She stepped forward, noticing the woman didn't bow. She'd let it go for now.  "You had people you wanted me to meet?" she asked.

The older woman let her inside, leading her to a small room with three small standing daises.  "These are the best we have at the moment," she noted, getting out of the way so the Empress could look at the qualifications in front of each woman's picture.  They would only come out if the Empress wanted to meet with them.

Sivya looked at each one, frowning.  She finally looked at the older woman.  "I'm a scholar.  I need someone who can understand those and the artistic urges I occasionally take."  The woman gave her an unimpressed look.  "It's not like I'll need a First Wife who runs a business.  These look very pleasant but I don't need a business manager.  I have one of those, and possibly more," she admitted, looking at her Minster, who nodded.  "When will I be meeting with them?"

"Soon," he noted.  "After the coronation.  You'll meet with them about your budget to move the palace."

She nodded. "Of course I will."  She looked at the matchmaker.  "I'd rather have someone who understands that I come from a fairly quiet planet, someone who either wants to help me research, wants to help me organize my research, or someone who can at least sit and read quietly with me."

"We have one of those, but she's not been in great demand," the woman sighed, going to pull her out to meet with the Empress.  She wanted odd things in a wife.  "Her," she said, getting out of the way so she couldn't influence the woman's decision.

Sivya smiled at the shy-looking young woman.  "I am Sivya."

"You're the new Empress," the woman corrected.  "You're a scholar?"  Sivya nodded.  "Do you work in the Archives?  I *love* working in Park School's.  As a graduate, I'm allowed to still do some research there."

Sivya smiled.  "I'd like to look on those sometime soon.  We have a large series of catacombs back on my world.  I've spent much time in them."  The matchmaker looked like the woman was insane.  "It was soothing," she noted calmly, looking at her choice again.  "I was told to pick someone I could get along with.  You know more than I do about what I'll have do soon.  All the research I'll have to do about the cultures we'll be interrupting by moving there.  All the research on the ambassadors so I understand them a bit more.  All the language work I'll have to do," she said with mock-disgust.  "I'll need someone to help me, someone to help me organize my research, and someone to go with me when I'm bored, walking around, or throwing a fit because I clearly don't understand something."

The younger woman laughed.  "You'll need more than that. There will be people who will try all patience every day and you won't be able to share it."  She stepped closer.  "I would not mind, Sivya.  If it doesn't work out," she shrugged.  "It will make me more desirable if our union is dissolved without renewal.  I think we could do well together if you want.  I have moments when I act like a Ferganis bitch."

Sivya smiled.  "We have one of those at the palace.  She came to complain about her Clan's treatment."  The woman's eyes widened and she let out a little squeal.  "You like them?"

"I adore them," she noted.  "They're wonderful and I'd love to get their oral history down.  History is my main area of research."  She bounced a little.  "If you don't choose me, may I come meet her?"

"I don't think she'd mind, but I like you."  The woman smiled.  She led her a little way away.  "Am I right that your people do not give out true names?"  The younger woman nodded.  "What may I call you?"

"I am usually called Pisha.  My true name is disgusting to hear."

"Pisha.  I like that if you do.  In my native language it sounds like the word for wine."

Pisha laughed.  "In mine it's the word for fish.  I'm a bit of a water person."  She grinned.  "I won't steer you wrong.  My own mother has declared that I am not worthy of my family because they're all jewel merchants.  I don't have any strong ties to any group.  I'm as neutral as you'll probably ever find and I know the system around here better than you do.  I am a gentle guide, but a tough taskmistress in the library."

"Then I think we can get along fine," Sivya told her, turning to her Minister and nodding.  "Pisha is my choice."

"Very well, Empress.  Let her come with you to help you pick out a First Husband?"  Rethna suggested.

"That's a very good idea."  She took the woman's arm and led her off, following the matchmaker as she walked away.  They entered a room full of men standing around.  Sivya blinked then looked at Pisha.  "They only had the woman's likenesses."

"The Matchmaker's people treat men like those human cow things."  She shrugged.  "It happens sometimes I guess."  She looked over the offerings, pointing at one pale pink bipedal being.  "Speaking of, that's a human."

Sivya walked over to look up at him.  "You are from Sol 3?"  He nodded.  "Why are you here, at this place, then?"

"I came up on a work contract with a factory but they closed before I got there because of code violations," he said quietly, his voice a little deep and very rough, like Sivya's own. His accent was different than any she had ever heard, it was smooth, yet guttural at the same time.  It spoke of a long linguistic life and a unique language that was not the one he was speaking to them presently. "There's nothing for me back on Earth so I chose to stay."  He bowed to them.  "I am skilled in construction, some farming basics, and am very good with manual labor.  I know nearly nothing of child care, but I'm willing to learn."  The man nearest him snorted.  He looked at him.  "In my culture, men do the earning while the women take care of the children and the home, and also usually work," he told him.  The man looked offended.  "That is the way my people are."  He looked at the women again.  "I can provide references locally if you wanted them."

Sivya looked at Pisha, who looked impressed.  "He'd make a good representative," Sivya noted.

"A good idea," Pisha agreed.  "We'll take him as one of the Under Husbands."  The man was led down by the matchmaker.  They looked at the others, but no one else there seemed to strike their fancy.  They went back to the car, Rethna walking behind them, chatting about what was really needed in a First Husband.  The man kept looking at them so finally Pisha looked at him. "You know of someone?"

"I do," he admitted.  "He isn't of the strongest moral fiber, but he is smart, strong, intelligent enough to know about people, and very protective."  He cleared his throat when Rethna looked at him.  "I've had a few beers with him now and then.  I don't know if he's looking for a marriage contract though."

"What does he do?" the Minister asked.

"Brastianius was a ship's captain," he said, looking at Rethna, whose eyes had went wide.  "He is exactly what they need."

"He is not of the moral character that would be required," Rethna pointed out strongly.

"What does he do?" the Minister asked.

"He's a soldier," Rethna told him.

The human man snorted.  "Tell it right, he's a retired mercenary and some called him a pirate for the sides he chose.  He was always about picking the side he felt was right instead of the side with the most money.  He was loyal to his side until the conflict was done.  He's also got very good taste in art, antiques, jewels, and has his own fortune.  Plus, he's very overprotective of what's his.  As proven by his daughter."

The Minister looked at him.  "You humans really do have odd ideas of suitable mates."

"I would like to meet him," Pisha put in.  "He sounds interesting and he might know of someone else, someone more suitable yet like him in most things."

"He retired," Rethna offered.  "He said he was getting too old for the life.  He's nearly Sivya's age now."

The Minister shook his head. "Do you know what the Court would say if she took him?"

"What would they say if I found someone I could run over and who ended up whimpering in a corner?" she asked him.

"Good point," he admitted.  "Fine, we will visit the other place and if none there strike your fancy then we'll call this one up to meet with Rethna so you can look from afar.  That way he doesn't make you dirty."  He got into his seat, helping Pisha between him and his boss, then his boss into her seat.  He and the human male shared a look but he gladly took the back of the cart without protest.  "At least someone trained him in manners," he said grimly.

Sivya leaned over.  "Who better to help us with the delicate negotiations than someone from there?" she noted.  "From what I've heard, we'll have to start interacting with the humans more often as they come closer to an inclusion offer.  Correct?"  He sighed and nodded.  "Then having one of them in my family would make that easier.  Besides, he is smart, he has a sense of humor, and his mind is untouchable by me," she said quietly.  "Leave my choices be.  Tell the Court that I am choosing based on my needs at the moment. Besides, he is exotic and very handsome to my fairly tender eyes.  What harm is there?"

"None," the Minister noted, nodding.  "Fine, I will not argue with your choices unless they are totally unsuitable.  Like that mercenary."  He gave her a long look. "Unless this man has other qualifications, I doubt he'd be suitable."

"Even if not, he might know of someone who is and he would be good to get to know in case we needed help with such matters.  I doubt you have anyone that is a contact among them."  He looked horrified.  "Then it is mostly harmless and he might turn out to be more than suitable."  She sat back, looking at her new wife.  "You study history you said.  Anyone's in particular?"

"I prefer a wide view approach.  I find the human's fascinating because it's so varied.  I also find your own people's fascinating because they had so much and gave it up for what seems to others to be a silly reason.  I know that they had their reasons and I agree with some of them, but to go from being one of the most technologically advanced peoples to an agrarian society is a big jump."

Sivya sighed.  "Not many understand why that happened but I've found many papers from that time.  The machines were overrunning them and they got scared.  They took a vote and those who didn't like it left for Mendor with the machines."

"Which is interesting as well, if only because they blew themselves up for the most part," Pisha offered. Sivya smiled at that.  "It's a very interesting turn of history that you almost never see repeated anywhere else."

"Among my kind, in America instead of my native France, there are people called the Amish," the human said, leaning forward. "They gave up technology as it was starting to take hold on my world.  They consciously chose to live a life of technologically bereavement and don't use anything if it's not an update of what they already had.  They're an interesting group, but very religious."

Pisha nodded, smiling at him.  "I will have to look into them.  Do you have a name?"

"Henri."

"Henri," Sivya said, testing it on her tongue.  "Fairly nice sounding.  I'd expect something harsher by your accent."  He chuckled.  "Not so?"

"No, not really. Many names can be, like my friend back on Earth named Gunter, but most French names aren't that harsh on the tongue.  Some may be for those who don't know about us, but they're easily adapted to."  He grinned at her.  "For the record, I'm not much of a scholar, but I can file alphabetically.  I can help around the office if I have to."

Pisha leaned closer.  "This is the new Empress, Henri.  No office."  He looked stunned.  "You all right?"

"I'm fine," he said, smiling at her.  "Let me guess, I'm going to be a font of things Human?"

"Some. That and you have a nice smile, you talked intelligently, you give the Court something to yammer about besides me," Sivya said with a smile.  "Plus you're very pretty.  I like that in a mate.  All that together made you a better choice than most of the others.  You were honest about why you were there.  None of them would have been.  Plus, that woman was glaring at you like she was about to gut you for daring to talk to one of us."

"Thank you for saving me then, M'lady," he said with a smile.  "I'm in your debt."

"Then you can help us get ready to move," she told him with a bright smile.  "I'm horrible at packing."

"That's not a problem. I've had to do it a number of times. I worked on construction crews that moved every few months."  He looked at Rethna, then at the women.  "Who is he?"

"That's Rethna, my personal Guardian," Sivya told him.  "He's one of the few I trust around the palace so far.  Even though he did kidnap me to this planet without my permission he's been very open and helpful to me so far.  He's found me someone to teach me languages, he's smoothed the way a few times, and he knows how to get the best out of people."  Rethna gave her a horrified look.  "No, I'm not suggesting you for a more personal position," she said with a smile.  "Someone told me off when she thought I was.  It's nice to have someone I can count on to be there for *me*.  Not for the crown.  So far you've done that."

He nodded.  "I am.  The rest are there for the crown, I am there for you.  Most of us are trained that way but it was thought that my father being from your world would help you accept me more."  He turned back around as they entered another driveway.  "Henri, you stay here," he ordered as he got out.  "Ladies?"  He helped them out and followed them.  He knew instantly that this was not the place they wanted the Empress so he quickly led them back out and called in a Guardian to investigate this place.  The mental miasma of misery was already grating on his nerves and Sivya was more sensitive than he was.

The Minister caught up to them as they came back to the car.  "What are you doing!" he demanded.

"There are illegals in there," Pisha told him quietly.  "They felt it the same as I did."

Henri leaned out of the car.  "Is it true seventy-five percent of you have some sort of mental gift like empathy or telepathy?"

"What are those?" Sivya asked.  "I'm unfamiliar with the terms."

"Empathy means you can feel feelings," Henri said, getting out to help her back into the car like he had been taught.  "Telepathy means you can hear thoughts."

"Empire wide that is the average," the Minister agreed.  "What about among yours?"

"Mostly none, or any that do hide really well.  Our people are a ninety/ten people.  Either ninety percent of the people are something and ten percent are the other, or the other way around.  I heard you guys were a seventy-five/twenty-five people."

Pisha smiled.  "That's true."  A Guardian landed beside them.  "The mental stink in there is horrible," she told him.  "It's like they have slaves."

"Slavery is illegal," the Guardian told her.  "I will look."  He nodded at Rethna as he walked past him.  "Having fun?"

"Much."  He glared at his back, then he calmed himself but he noticed everyone had noticed.  "There are many who do not like my loyalties," he said quietly. "They consider it a betrayal of the calling."  He got into the front, waiting while everyone got back in before nodding for the driver to take off.  "Are there any other stops?"

"No," the Minister sighed.  "This was my last hope.  We might have to go off-world for a husband."  He shook his head.  "I hate that this noble house will be brought down by the investigation."

Sivya looked at him.  "Better to be brought down if they are doing it then to leave them there," she said firmly.  "That is the law, is it not?"  He nodded, giving her a long look.  "It is there for a very good reason and I like that law."  He slumped and nodded.  "Thank you.  If we can't find someone then we'll figure it out," she noted.  She looked back at Henri.  "Where might this one person be?"

"I'll have him come up to see Rethna tomorrow," Henri promised.  "I know he's on planet, he lives here full time."  He got comfortable.  "Are there any children in the household yet?"

"No, and we're not looking forward to any either," Sivya told him.  "I know nothing about children and what little I've been forced to learn I really didn't like dealing with in the temple's nursery of orphans."

Pisha patted her on the hand.  "We'll blow up that bridge while we cross it, as the humans say."  Henri laughed, shaking his head. "Not correct?"

"It's close.  It's actually burn it after we cross it from what I've heard the Englishmen say.  I like your interpretation better though.  Explosions are always prettier than fires."

The Minister groaned.  "The fireworks."  He picked up the communication headset and put it on, calling his office.  "The fireworks for tonight?  Move them back by two days.  Yes, I'm sure.  Claim it's a technical malfunction.  Because I said so," he said firmly, hanging up.  "Sorry about that, Empress, but the fireworks were in honor of your marriage."  He shrugged.  "We'll do it whenever you find someone, even if we do have to push back the coronation."  She nodded calmly, but he could tell she wasn't happy with something.  "It is the law," he reminded her.

"I know, but I don't like being rushed about such important matters."

"Among humans, divorce is either a long process that requires legal intervention or something that is impossible in some cultures," Henri offered.  "At least you guys only have year-long marriages if you're unsuitable.  We have some peoples who can't get divorced, even if their spouses beat them."  Everyone gave him an alarmed look.  "It happens," he noted.  "It's not a popular thing anymore.  We've grown up since then."

"Good," Sivya said firmly. "You'll have to help me with any interactions with your people."

"Or at least pick out good diplomats to talk to," Pisha offered when he looked sad.

"I can probably do that," he agreed. "I don't know it all, but I know some good people who can help. It's too bad a few of the good ones died right before I left.  That was a sorry thing.  They would have been wonderful to learn from."  He shrugged.  "I'm guessing your own diplomats would be able to help you some but the last I heard they were still having troubles with some peoples who believe that there's really nothing off the Earth because that's their religious interpretation."

"Odd," Sivya told him, turning to look at him.  "Really?"

"Really." He caught her as they turned a corner.  "Don't fall.  It'd be messy."

"Thank you," she said with a small smile for him.  At the very least this one was kind and interesting.  She could stand that for a year if it didn't work out.
 

~*~*~*~

Sivya looked up as a tall man walked into her quarters, giving him a long look.  "Do I know you or should I know you?" she asked firmly.

He chuckled and shook his head.  "Not yet.  One of my friends told me to come up and interview with your guard but he's in the middle of not killing some of your Court, Empress."  He bowed to her, a grand and courtly gesture.  "I am Brastianius, most people call me Brast."  He stayed where he was so she could get a good look at him, which she was.

She noticed his dark hair was down to his shoulder blades in the back, something that had always intrigued her about some men.  She liked long hair.  His face wasn't scarred, and it wasn't conventionally pretty because she could see a few faint lines starting to come up around his eyes and the creases near his mouth where he was smiling were fairly deep as well. His skin was much lighter than hers, nearly as pale as her human's was. She stroked her choker as she tested his mental shields, unable to get past them. His grin got more smug and she cocked up an eyebrow as she stood up.  He was taller than she and his clothes were in colors that she preferred.  "Did you dress up?"

"Actually, I dressed down.  At home I only wear that new silk that the Crimsons found last year."  He shrugged.  "It feels incredible.  The humans should be tolerated for that much alone, funny mental problems beside the point."  He stepped closer, tipping her chin up.  "You are amused?"

"I'm astonished," she admitted.  "I'm from a temple of Alia."

He nodded.  "So I've heard around the bars."  He waved at a seat.  "Shall we, Sivya."  She gave him a long look.  "I figure not many use your actual name and you've probably gotten to the end of your temper with your title."

"I have," she admitted, sitting down to watch him sit.  He was graceful, like he had trained his body to follow every command he gave it to the letter, and no more than that.  He didn't appear to be overly graceful, certainly not like those creatures that danced in the most popular bars.  "You're retired from being a soldier I hear?"

"I was.  I was a mercenary.  That means I sold my skills to the person I thought had the best reason for hiring me to protect their things.  Mostly I did shipment guarding."  She nodded, tipping her head to the side.  "I must say, you're much different than how you were described."

"How was I described?" she asked softly.

He grinned again, and she pulled a piece of newly lengthened hair around to play with.  "I heard you were a shy little shrew with a big brain and the will to make most men drink from exhaustion after dealing with you."  She burst out in very loud giggles, which brought someone running.  "They said you were busy," he said smugly.

"He's been very gentlemanly, Rethna, put away your weapon," she ordered.

"He broke in here!" he said angrily.

She looked at him.  "Yes, he did.  That means he's at least got bravery, brains, and the skill to use them together."  She looked at Brast again.  "Anything to say in your own defense?"

He laughed, shaking his head.  "You are good."

"No, not really," she admitted.  "Confused most of the time.  I trust Rethna and his judgement."

"That's a good thing.  A woman in your position should trust someone," he noted, standing up.  "If you want, I'll leave."

"If you leave, I'll hunt you down and have you tied up to be brought back, probably by Rethna," she noted.  Both men looked shocked.  "I may be from an outer rim planet, but we do have some knowledge of how things are done," she said as she stood up.  "Especially in the field of finding husbands.  Rethna, what would you ultimately dream I'd have as one of my own people?"

"Someone to protect you," he said firmly.  "As proven by him getting in here."

"Do you doubt others could?"  He shook his head.  "Then why haven't they?"  She looked at her guard, who looked grim.  "No answer?"

"Because they're waiting for you to show how backwards you are," Brast told her.  "They're waiting for a *reason*, Empress."

"Which is what I figured.  You're said to be protective.  You've proven to be smart, gentle, and knowledgeable about how to get around the Court if you must.  Personally, at least you amuse me and I can see that other things wouldn't be so bad with you," she said, holding down a blush.  "I also can't see that you'd do a bad job in the role.  Can you?"  Both men shook their heads.  "Then I'd like to offer him the position of First Husband," she noted to Rethna.

Brast blinked. "I heard the human was."

"No, he's the only one I've found so far," she admitted dryly, grimacing.  "And trust me, Minister Kathal has been on my case about that already."

"He needs to find new friends anyway," Brast said brashly.  "Those people yesterday were found to have hundreds of slaves."  Rethna groaned, covering his face.  "I don't know his connection to them but did he really not know?"

"I don't know," Sivya admitted.  Rethna gave her a long look.  "I can't read him and I'm not the greatest at personal interactions.  I know how people act and how they think from settling disputes and taking pleas to the Goddess, not how to interact with them and find out what they want from me when they're being subtle.  People came to me directly, not indirectly tried to shove me in their direction."  She looked at Brast.  "I don't want to be a political pawn.  I really don't want this job for that matter, and I'm about to step on some major toes if I do what I think I'm doing during my coronation announcement.  The crown and I have made some agreements."  Both men nodded slowly. "That means I'm going to need to be guarded.  I'm going to need someone who can read those around me without resorting to skills that others have, and someone who can understand this political dance that I don't even hear the tune to yet."

Brast nodded, giving her a patient look.  "Then the best bet you have is someone like me, Sivya.  The tune around here is about as complicated as any in-clan war I've had the misfortune to get into the middle of.  I also know a lot about the various major trade systems, and they're who'll give you the most problems over all.  They're the ones who'll want boons from you for their cooperation.  You're right, you do need someone like me or your guard here, and he's a Guardian so he can't."

Rethna sighed.  "He's right, I can't."  He shrugged.  "I love my job, but that is a restriction."

Sivya looked at him, then sat down again.  "Rethna, did he know about those people?  He didn't seem *upset* by the knowledge, just resigned.  Is that normal for him?"

"No," he said quietly, shaking his head and sitting across from her. "It's not.  I think he must have at least suspected but we can't do anything about that."

"Yes, but I got the image from his mind yesterday that he was composing his letter of resignation.  He was figuring out how to word it while we were traveling back.  I know I've been hard on him but he was nice most of the time in return.  Have I been too hard?"

"No," Brast said, shifting to lean against the back of the couch.  "Not in the least. From what I've heard of the gossip, you've set yourself out there so people can get to know you.  You've not been overly harsh in your demands.  You've not been overly tense and uptight about most things.  I have heard he's got some questionable contacts and relations however."

"I don't want to judge a man on that alone, but I don't want him to endanger me either."

"He will," Rethna told her.  "His ideas and yours will clash soon enough."  He shrugged, looking helpless.  "This is one area I can't help you with," he admitted. "You are a higher Thinker than I am, Sivya.  Much higher than he is because he's nearly mute to most of us."

"Then there's the problem that his wife runs the staff and his co-husband happens to be over the other money men in the palace," Brast pointed out.  "I've never heard a whisper of any improprieties with it, but it is suspicious."

"I don't want to jump where there's no evidence, but I don't want to be uncareful either. One of the big things the crown impressed on me is that I do have the *duty* to change Draven back into a decent place to live.  The crown wanted me to put them back on Watch status."  Both men looked stunned.  "It didn't like their idea of immoral conduct being punishable by death either.  It's said that it'll be announcing this at the coronation when it ritually takes me over."  Both men nodded slowly.  "How is this going to affect him?  I know the Minister for the courts isn't going to like it much; it'll cause more work for him."

"This will disrupt your Court horribly," Brast pointed out.  "Does anyone else know?"

"No," she said.  "Not unless we've got eavesdroppers."  They both shook their head.  "I haven't even discussed it with the other two yet.  I know this is going to cause problems.  It wants to do a lot immediately and I want to spread it out, get some done more subtly and then move on. That's why we had that fight last night."  Rethna smiled at her.  "I know, I'm thinking like a Mendorian.  I'm not, I like my peace and agrarian lifestyle.  I probably won't get back to it though.  It doesn't seem as if Alia has plans for me to retire back to it for a very long time.  The crown wants to set down lifetimes of work all at once."

"It can't," Brast told her.  "It should know that."

"It does, but it wants there to be a small shift now and then slowly set time limits so things have to be done or changed by then.  Universal suffrage for men being one of those.  I know it goes against the laws of the Empire that each people has the right to rule their own way, within reason and it not hurting the rest of the Empire or their people unreasonably, but it wants so much."

Rethna looked at Brast.  "Then I agree on him. He should do it.  Some of the Court will never accept him, but the rest will gladly take him in and some will even see that you wanted someone to protect and lead you through this dance.  Who better than a pirate to lead you through delicate negotiations?" he said as he stood up, smiling at her.  "I'll tell Minister Kathal that he is your choice if the man agrees?" he said, turning to look at him.

"Standard year, Central Time, contract?" Brast asked.

She nodded. "Standard year, your own room in my suite, and I won't force myself on you, Brast.  I'm not like that.  I'm a scholar."  He winced.  "My First Wife is also one.  Your Under Husband is a human you've had a few beers with."

"I know, he's who called me," he said, giving her a small wink.  "Fine.  I can agree with that. We can work out all the other details later."  She nodded, smiling at him.  "I suppose I should go pack then."

"The official colors are blue and green, with silver and black as accessory and backup colors," Rethna told him, pointing at the door.  "If you'd like, I'll escort you to the front gate and assign someone to come help you."

"That's okay, I can do that myself," he admitted, nodding at Sivya.  "I'll see you for dinner?"

"If you'd like. I have a formal dinner tonight," she groaned, laying down holding her head.  "I hate those."

"Get used to them," Rethna suggested.  "They happen at least once a week."  He closed the door behind them, looking at the mercenary.  "You really will protect her?"

"Yes.  I will.  It's obvious she needs someone to be there for her and to protect her instead of the crown.  You're good, but you're someone who can be reassigned.  I think she also has you in mind to replace a certain someone."  Rethna shuddered.  "I know, a horrible thought, but before the year's up, I'll have her guards up to snuff.  You can help me with that until someone decides to get back at her and make her more helpless by sending you off on an assignment.  Watch out for that, it's likely to be deadly."  He walked toward the front of the palace, letting the Guardian follow him. "How is she taking it really?"

"Fairly well.  She has the balls to complain now and then, which is a good sign.  She and Kathal have gotten into fights a few times over his expectations and her thoughts on things.  Oh, the Ferganis diplomat is wandering," he said, pointing her out.  "That's Sethyanas."  She turned to look at him.  "Great One, this is Brastianius."

He bowed.  "Most call me Brast."  He got down onto one knee.  "Great One, is there much that my kind can help with?"

Only if you can go kill a hunter of our kind?  She looked at Rethna. Have they captured him yet?

"They have.  They're bringing him for trial here and more of you are on their way since that land was fouled greatly by his arrogance. Also, I've heard from the main Healers.  They've been taking care of an orphan you might want to check on.  She was in a similar situation and is very young.  They were feeding her milk the last I knew."  She nodded and headed off to find a Healer to talk to.  He helped Brast up.  "Sivya suggested we put up a sanctuary here for them."

"It's a good idea," he agreed.  "There's probably not going to be any hunts here and I'm sure she could hurt anyone who did."  He patted him on the arm.  "Blue and green?"

"She said she really liked green and silver, they reminded her of home, but she also liked blue and black. Hence us having four official colors."  He shrugged. "She didn't pick out a particular shade so it should be fine."

"Most of my things are midnight, crimson, and black," Brast noted.  "Not too far off."  He sighed and they continued on.  "I suppose I'll have to pull out the finery as well."

"It might not be such a bad idea.  Of course there's a household shopping allowance."  He glanced around then leaned closer.  "I know she prefers clothes from home, but others have said things."

Brast snorted.  "Easily enough handled, Rethna. Leave that to me."  He winked and grinned. "I'll see you in a few, I can see Kathal coming this way."  He hurried on while Rethna stopped to divert the man's attention.  It would be best if he were told once everything was a done deal.  It would make things go smoother in the long run.
 

~*~*~*~

Sivya looked around her suite as people buzzed around doing...things.  She wasn't sure what most of them were doing but they were all very busy.  She looked at the woman fussing in her wardrobe.  "Don't, I put those so I know which outfit goes together," she ordered.  "That way I don't have to do more than grab something to put on."  The woman nodded, putting everything back.  "Thank you."  She stood up and walked over to look in her closet.  "What am I wearing tonight to the dinner?"  The woman held up a silver dress, something with a lot more fabric than she was used to.  "Who wears that?"

"Ambassadors to Draven here," she said, bowing and holding out the clothing.

Sivya gave it a long look.  "How do I get into it?  It has no magnets?"

The woman giggled and helped her out of her present clothing, then rolled up the bottom of the dress, helping her put it over her hair.  It slid down the tight body and hung there, making the woman look upset.  "Not fit."

"I'd hope not," she admitted, looking down at the shapeless form she made in this mass of silver. "I know I have simple taste, but this is shiny and nasty."

"It is," Brast agreed as he came out of his room.  He looked at her.  "Draven?"  The fitter nodded.  "Hmm."  He walked over and grabbed something out of his pile of boxes, then put it around her waist and arranged the fabric for her.  The belt gathered and fell around her hips, but it helped some.  Now he could see that she had a shape.  "Better," he admitted, sitting her down to look at her hair.  "This stuff is soft," he said in appreciation.  "You're not doing more than braiding it?  You have enough hair to do some really fantastic things and to hide some small daggers in it."

"Do what?" she asked, looking up at him.  "How would I do that?"

Brast looked at the woman giving them a hesitant look.  "Are you her hair dresser?"  She nodded, stepping forward.  "Give her something that will conceal weapons if necessary."  The woman opened a box and pulled out six long hairpins, longer than his hand but the longest not as long as his forearm.  "Those are very good weapons," he admitted.  He got out of her way, watching as the woman dealt with the shameful mass of hair.  "I know it's Imperial law, but that is too much hair for any one person to have."

"I agree, but they won't listen to me," Sivya groaned, shaking her head while her simple braid was rearranged around her head. By the time the woman was done, each loop was sticking up above her head like a headdress of some sort and the tips were decked with feathers.  She nodded that she liked it and the woman fastened it that way, using the long, deadly pins to settle her hair together in the chosen form.  A strange comb-looking device went up closer to the top, holding the spires up and together so nothing could shift.  She was handed a mirror and noticed the comb hid itself in her hair.  "I like this," she admitted.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Empress," she said, bowing and backing away.

"Empress, I ask," her fitter put in, "clothes of this nature packed for travel?"

"Yes!  I want to keep those.  I don't care who doesn't like it, I do."  The fitter nodded, smiling at her.  "Even though I know it's not the absolute appropriate thing to wear among the court, it is my home fashion and it is comfortable."

"Having things that remind you of home is important," Brast agreed, helping her stand up.  He noticed a few pieces of hair and plucked them off.  "You've got some breakage," he noted, looking at the hairdresser.  "Don't you have to inform someone of that?"  She nodded and hurried to do that.  "The others, Sivya?"

"Pisha is in library.  I'm told she was excused because the Draven do not have First Wives and they refuse to be in the same room as them."  She took his arm.  "Shoes?"  A pair was put in front of her.  "Thank you.  Am I ready?"

"No," Brast told her, taking the box another woman was holding.  "You're wearing no jewelry.  It is your right and your responsibility. You are the showpiece of the crown, Sivya.  You are how they see how prosperous we are.  That's why you have the hair and all that."

"I have the hair because some Empress got mad at her daughter and Ki, so she made it an edict to stop her daughter from ever cutting her hair again."

"Also true," he agreed, smiling at her, "but it serves multiple purposes."  He added tasteful, yet expensive, jewelry to her throat, ears, and wrist.  "I would add rings but I hate rings."

"I've never worn one," she admitted, looking at herself.  "I look odd.  Like one of those creatures you see in books."

"Yes, but the showpiece you are is a marvelous thing.  You show our prosperity and wealth very well."  He took her arm and led her away.  His midnight blue silk outfit of pants and shirt was plain next to her, but he highlighted her magnificence.  Which was the purpose of a husband anyway.  He nodded at the guards and they opened the door so they could walk in.  Everyone stopped and bowed to them.  Brast smiled at his new wife as she bowed back.  She was so naive sometimes.  "Shall we mingle?"

"Please.  I've only been briefed but I haven't met most of the people in attendance," she noted quietly.  He nodded, leading her to the first group to their right.  They could work their way around the room.  These were lower courtiers and didn't expect to have much attention paid to them for very long.

Sivya smiled and clasped hands with one of them.  "I know of your people, some, but not of you."

The courtier looked stunned and nodded quickly.  "Empress, I am Grethanariansys.  I am from the same place Minister Kathal is from."

"I know of him, but I intend to meet with everyone eventually."  She smiled.  "There are an awful lot of you."  He laughed, nodding and bowed to her.  "Thank you.  Do you go by a shorter name or your full one?"

"I usually go by Syrian these days.  It is part of my name and also a vast former culture among the humans."

"Really?"  Her face lit up.  "I would like to know more about that.  How former?"

"They're one of their ancient, founding cultures."

"Wow."  She beamed.  "Thank you.  Do you represent your planet?"

"Actually, at the moment I represent my father, who's home to attend to my sister's first child's birth.  So I suppose I do, as well as our major shipping groups."  She nodded.  "The shippers wanted some of your time after the coronation to see if you wanted to do anything about some dangerous areas of space."  He looked at Brast.  "He should be able to tell you about those."

"I'll be sitting in there with her anyway," he noted, patting her on the back.

"Excellent.  Please schedule something, but give me a few days to recover from the outfit.  It weighs nearly as much as I do and they're still adding to it."  Syrian laughed and nodded.  "I thank you."  She bowed again and moved onto the next group.  In this one was another High Thinker and they locked minds for a moment.  "Greetings, sister."

"Greetings, Sivya, Great One."  She tipped her chin at Brast as well.  "You do well at setting people at ease."  She stepped closer.  "Do beware, there are those here who know which way you will lean on certain matters and intend for you to never make it to your coronation."  She stepped back.  "I'm your official Thinker.  When a Ki is found, I'll guard your heir to the crown as well.  I also seem to have inherited your scheduling book somehow, so I'll get with young Syrian about that.  A week afterwards?"

"Please. That would be fine.  Are you supposed to schedule things?"

"No, but it makes more sense.  The staff will want a moment with you later.  There are some things that need changed around so we run more efficiently.  We've been trying to get them changed since the last Empress died and the Regent didn't have the power to do that.  We've planned it for so long that things should go smoothly for the transition."

"I'd like to hear that.  I seem to have two people who help me who do nothing."

"They're waiting for children."

"It won't be happening for a while.  Do you need another helper?"

She laughed. "No, Empress, I do not, but I will help them find something to do for now.  They won't be insulted I assure you."  Sivya relaxed.  "You have very good taste by the way."  She winked.  "Don't let Kathal get onto you about your wardrobe.  Wear whatever is comfortable, but trust your husband for formal events and let him pick out some things he thinks would suit you.  You'd be surprised."

"I will heed that.  What may I yell when I need you?"

"Yell Yerthes."

"Yerthes.  Thank you."  They bowed and then she walked in. "She was very nice."

"She was," he agreed. Plus she had stuck up for him fixing some of her wardrobe.  She understood what his function was at the moment.  Beyond that of a guard.  He growled at one man who had a weapon openly on him.  "You carry a weapon to dinner always?"

"Yes," he noted, adjusting his fur cloak.  "We all do."  He nodded at the Empress.  "I am Ambassador Thran."

She looked him over, then punched him on the arm, making him laugh and smile.  "I know some about your people.  I would know more.  Are we scheduled to meet anytime soon?"  He shook his head.  "You don't have anything you need to talk to us about?"

"Why?  Most things do not impact us.  Our nomadic, simple life is not much bothered by all this."  He waved a hand around.  "Like Rraaaaal, the catman, ours are not much more than here for official things.  We do not bother with all this nonsense."

"I wish I could say the same," she said quietly, making him smile again.

Brast moved closer.  "As the Empress will need guards, I'm putting myself in charge of it with Guardian Rethna's help.  Do you have any who are suitable?"

"We do.  Our men are all strong warriors.  We train from walking to carry our swords and use them well.  If you would like, I can put out a call for a warrior to come for her corps."  Brast nodded.

"I'll have a *corps* of guards?" she asked.

"Yes," Brast said firmly.

"Why?"

"Because you'll need one," he told her simply.  He nodded to the ambassador.  "It would be most helpful.  You'd know best what sort of person would be able to stand the lifestyle around the Court."  He nodded.  "Thank you.  Come, Sivya.  Your other courtiers are looking alarmed at something."  She smiled and nodded to the ambassador before walking off on his arm.  "You are very chatty."

"I like knowing people and things," she pointed out.  "If I'm to work with them, shouldn't I get to know them in all manner of things?  Including what innate prejudices they bring with them from their home worlds and whether or not I can work with them?"

"True," he admitted.  "Being chatty isn't always a bad thing, but there will be those who will try to get closer to further their own end."

She nodded.  "I know.  I am a Thinker," she noted quietly.  He smiled at her and she felt her insides clench so she looked around.  "Something is going on."

"Something usually is within the court," he admitted, looking around as well.  "Hmm.  Armed guards going into the kitchen.  Looks like someone found a cook to poison us again."  He gave her a look.  "Welcome to Court life."

"I'd rather go home," she said firmly.  He laughed and nodded.  "Good.  Which group next?"

"The anxious young ones.  Their parents will be pleased to see them talking to you in hopes of adding to your family."

"I had a thought earlier," she noted. "It was told to me that I'd have to gather a personal troupe of helpers and people-in-waiting."  He nodded.  "Would not third and fourth sons and daughters be best for that?"  He gave her an impressed sideways look.  "Yes?"

"Yes.  I like that idea.  It would keep many of them from being killed when their siblings took the throne.  They're the ones who usually cause the most trouble as well."

"Plus, they could help brief me on the various people and cultures so I don't make mistakes while meeting them," she offered.

"Very good idea, Sivya.   Suggest it to these ones.  They're in that age range."  He nodded to the first of them, who squeaked when they noticed they were there.  "Calm down.  We do not eat sentient beings."

"Then he might not want to stand too close," one female said with a smile.  "Excuse him, Empress, he is young yet."

"As I am," she noted.  "At least at heart."  She smiled and patted the young man on the shoulder, a sisterly gesture among most peoples. "I have an idea and I wanted a younger, more worldly opinion on the matter.  You've all practically grown up here and would be the most help."  They nodded, gathering around.  "We all know I'm from an outer rim world.  I know something about many peoples but not all of them by any means.  I was informed that I had to gather ladies- and men-in-waiting earlier.  Would not the best people for that job be the later siblings among the leading families?  Those who can't hope to find their way into the seat of power, but who know and have been brought up in their home courts?"

"That is an excellent idea," the squeaking boy admitted.  "It'd keep them out of trouble too."  The others nodded. "My own sister is only twelve, but my brother will gladly kill her when he takes over."

"It would solve some of that as well," she admitted.  "You'd not be ambassadors, but my source of information on local customs, people who show up, things of that nature."  They all nodded. "That wouldn't bother you?"

"No, it'd be amazing," the brash girl said firmly.  She looked around then whistled, bringing an older woman trotting to her side.  "Get my mother," she ordered.  "The Empress has a plan she needs implemented and my mother knows *all* who should be included."  The woman nodded and ran off.  "My mother's the local gossip.  She's the lead of the spouses of the Ambassadors. She's formed them into their own group so they have someone to chat with while on duty."  She smirked as her mother came in, dressed impeccably.  "Apparently she was running a little late.  The Mithras Ambassador must be having more false labor pains."

"One of the ambassadors is pregnant?  I won't force her to come if so.  I don't want anyone who will be sick or in pain here if they don't want to be," Sivya told her as her mother came closer.  She smiled at her.  "Your daughter suggested you could help me implement something?"

"Of course.  What might you need, Empress?"

"My ladies- and men-in-waiting.  I was thinking of the later children of ruling families."

Her daughter snorted.  "She was thinking about taking people like Timabala and using them for a good purpose, mother.  This way she has a ready source of their home world gossip and information on local customs."

"A brash, yet very needed idea," the mother agreed.  "I can gather a list of names and have them to you right after the coronation."

"I plan on taking a few days off to recover from the weight of the outfit anyway so that would be fine," she admitted with a smile.  "Your daughter speaks very highly of you."  The woman blushed and bowed.  "We'd best move on, before we hurt anyone's feelings."  She sighed.  "I look forward to hearing you younger ones having fun soon."  She let Brast lead her off.  "That went well," she said optimistically.

"That's because you're solving a universal problem.  Spoiled rich children with nothing to do and no hopes of having a future outside of a marriage far away."  He patted her hand as he put it around his arm.  "Keep directly beside me," he ordered quietly.  "This one has someone hostile."

"Agreeable.  My feet are sore," she admitted.

"We've an hour to go.  We'll work on getting you some better shoes," he promised.

"Most of the time at home I wore flat sandals," she said hopefully.

"Fat chance," he said, smiling at her.  "Not for formal occasions.  Not unless you can suddenly make them fashionable."  She grimaced.  "For off-times and for personal meetings, not for dinners such as this and not for hearing petitions."  He gave her hand another pat.  "We'll work on getting you something fashionable."

"I don't feel right doing all that shopping until after the coronation."

"Good, but it won't be that much," he promised.  "The coronation is in six days."  He nodded at the next group as they walked up to it.  "Grace, how did you get here?" he asked.

"I married well.  As you did," he said, nodding at the Empress.  "I see you chose for brains instead of beauty."

"Actually, I find him very wonderful to look at and quite intelligent beyond that.  I needed both.  I refuse to have anyone simply to stare at.  Intelligent conversation is a mandatory requirement for my household," she told him.

Brast laughed, shaking his head.  "Now you sound like one of our wives," he admitted.  "You'd do well as a mercenary's wife, Sivya."

"Thank you.  I hope I don't have to prove that."  She smiled at him.  Then at the other man. "You were one as well?"  He nodded.  "Did you marry one of the ambassadors?"

"One of their son's," he admitted. "I'm First Husband to Ambassador Hedrel's second son, Tians."  He pointed them out.  "I know you haven't met them all yet.  That's mine."

"Ah."  She smiled and nodded at that one, then at the First Husband.  "At least Brast won't be totally bored here if you're around to talk to.  I know my job can get quite boring sometimes."

"True," Brast agreed.  "I will have someone to swap stories with," he said, looking at his former enemy's face.  He saw the spark of hatred.  "Of course, since this is neutral territory, nothing had better happen."

"It won't, not from my hand," Grace told him.

"That's nice to hear," Sivya told him.  "Am I meeting with your husband or father-in-law soon?"

"Not yet.  We don't have anything urgent that won't be put into a petition," he admitted.  His husband gave him a long look.  "I believe my husband needs me.  By your leave, Empress?"

"That's fine.  We've more people to talk to anyway," she admitted, smiling at him as he walked away.  She looked at Brast as they slowly walked on as well.  "Is he a danger to me?"  He nodded.  "Because he doesn't like you or because of his husband?"

"Both.  Plus he's got knowledge of how I operate.  He'll be a major player in the people who will shortly want you dead for your way of thinking."  She nodded because they were coming up to another group.  One of the wives looked at him, and he smiled. "It's the truth. There are always those who do not like something."

"True," she agreed, patting her husband gently.  He quit talking ships and smiled at the newcomers.  "Husband, this is our new Empress, Sivya, and her First Husband.  Brast wasn't it?"

"That's how I usually shorten it," he agreed, nodding to them.  "I prefer the new Negal ships personally.  They're more comfortable. It's a nice balance of speed, agility, and comfort."

The husband smiled and nodded.  "For someone in your field that would be a consideration.  I do racing ships."

"Then the Penders would be my favorite. They're brash and loud."  The man laughed and nodded.  Sivya looked up at him. "Never seen a ship race?"  She shook her head.

"Then we'll have to invite you out to have some time off at one," the man assured her.  "They're very fun to watch, and if not, then you women can chat and gossip."  His wife gave him a look.  "You do."

"I might, but she is the Empress."

"Who is still a woman," he noted smugly.  "All women share some traits."  He bowed to Sivya.  "Have your husband call us and we'll arrange for a time."

"Thank you.  Are they tests of speed or agility?"

"There are both," Brast said, nodding at them as he led her away.  "Mostly speed this season.  The agility tests are later this year."  He gave her arm a squeeze.  "You've never seen one?"  She shook her head. "We will have to rectify that. It's a noble sport.  You have to have money to participate and the better ships are like fine jewels, passed down among families."

"And yours?" she asked.

"Mine was put into a holding facility, it's being cleaned up as we speak.  It was a bit dented, burned, and dirty when I decided to retire.  I nearly got blown up again and my hair was a mess so I decided I needed a long vacation."  He smiled at her as she laughed.  "You don't believe me?"

"No, I do," she admitted, giving him a bright smile.  "I believe that you did decide to retire based on the state of your hair."  He chuckled and gave her a light pinch.  "Who next?"

"We can bother the Draven contingent we'll be sitting next to later, or we can join the other group of youngsters."

"Youngsters.  Since we'll be sitting next to them later we'll get to meet them then."  She nodded at the Ambassador as they walked past him.  "We'll talk at dinner," she told him.  He nodded, watching them walk away.  "Did I insult him?" he asked quietly.

"You're female and talked to him, that was all the insult he needed," he responded calmly.  "He'll have to get used to it however.  You can't change your sex."  He bowed to the younger people, making them giggle and blush.  Ah, early adults.  "How are you this evening?"

"Just fine," one brave girl said shyly, smiling at them.  She bowed to the Empress. "We welcome you, Great One."

"Please, I have a name and you're too young to be used to push your parent's agenda's."   The kids giggled and gathered around to talk to her some more.  It was like being back at the temple.
 

~*~*~*~

Sivya looked around the dinner, then at her closest dinner companion.  Their lounging pillows and tray rests had been set in a corner that had a good view of the room but wasn't close enough to be overheard by another group.  She leaned back against the cooler outer wall, stroking her husband's shoulder where it rested against her stomach.  This was how the majority of the Empire ate, even her own people.  She was used to it, all except the warm weight against her stomach and it was doing something to her insides that she wasn't sure about.  She picked up her water to sip, then let her husband have it as protocol demanded.  "So," she said finally, trying to find a topic.  "I believe we should talk."

"My people do not talk business over dinner," the Draven ambassador announced.

His bright pink outfit was a bit loud and was giving her a headache but she knew that pink was the Empire-wide mourning color.  There were few exceptions and his people used it as an everyday color apparently.  Even the cloth he pulled from his pocket was pink.  She stroked her husband again, hoping for some inspiration. "That's fine," she agreed.  "We can hold a formal meeting after dinner?"  He nodded briefly and turned back to eating.  She looked down at her husband, who was giving her a smug look.  She pinched him and he smirked more.  She finally found a topic.  "I know some of my information is out of date, I know almost nothing of your current culture.  I've heard about the rules and those things, but not about the current state of your crops or your people's lives."

He grunted in annoyance.  "Our crops flourish for the pure.  The impure will starve, as is just," he noted, giving her a short glare.

Brast sat up under the pretext of grabbing a plate for his wife from a passing guard/waiter.  They shared a look and he rolled his eyes before he handed it over and went back to his lounging.  "What sort of crops do you plant?  I remember before the revolution it was mainly flowers and some limited food crops.  It's said that the oils from the flowers rivaled those done anywhere else.  A plant of them were the chosen betrothal gift on many planets."

The ambassador gave him a look.  "Such things are frivolous."

"But don't you have problems with the base of your economy being taken away?" he asked.

"No.  We survive.  The pure always will."

"Hmm."  Sivya nibbled a bite of food.  "Do you only grow food crops now?"

"We do," he said firmly.  "We have no desire to be linked to another planet.  That is what caused the impurity before."  He glared at her more openly now.  "Women on my world do not interrupt the men."

She smiled calmly.  "Women on the rest of the worlds are in charge, however.  As an ambassador, it is something you should have noticed.  Does that viewpoint not give you troubles negotiating?"

"We don't negotiate."

She smiled.  "Of course you don't."  She stroked Brast's hair again, calming her desire to kill him where he sat.  He fed her a delicate bite of meat.  "Brast, would you object to a trip to the farms?  I've never seen some of the local food beasts."

"Of course not," he agreed.  "I've never seen one of those Tua'ath goats alive either," he agreed easily.  He smiled at her.  "It will also give you a few hours away from your duties."

"Women should always attend to their duties first," the ambassador noted coldly.

"Hmm.  Yes, but mine's a full time job," she said with a smile for him.  "I have to take some time off or else my judgement slips and I do rash things."  She took another sip of her water.  "Such as barricading certain planets for their ambassador's arrogance."  Brast choked and she patted him.  "Poor thing.  Are you all right?" she asked, smiling at him.  She sent him a gentle thought.  I have it.  I do know what I'm doing.  The crown has said so. Then she looked at the stunned ambassador again.  "Sorry, but it is a statement of fact.  My former life as a priestess was nothing like this one."

He grunted in annoyance.  "Anyone who tried such a thing would find themselves greatly disappointed," he said firmly.  "Our loyal and pure would die before giving ourselves up."

"Maybe, but how much of your population is really among those?" she asked gently.  "Your dogs?  Your children?"  He scowled and she reached over, patting him on the wrist - a delicate insult meaning he was probably going against his religion's stated contempt of same-sex relationships.  "I'm sure we'll come to an amenable agreement.  Aren't you?"  He got up and bowed, then left.

"Sivya," Brast said, staring her down.

"He deserved it.  He put his own daughter to death the other day for helping in the fields while a cow and bull went at it."  She sipped her water.  "The crown has said it deplores the status of their planet.  It's making others worry and fight.  They're hurting their people for not being capable of ignoring their bodily functions.  They're hurting their children for not having control of their bodily functions," she said firmly.  "As such, it is against the rules of the Empire.  All children are protected, no matter which culture they come from."

He sighed.  "Yes, but you were rather obvious, Sivya."

She nodded. "I doubt he would have understood anything else.  The man wasn't that bright."  She finished her water and put her goblet down, watching as it was whisked away and another was brought.  "I could have used the old one," she noted.

"It is not done at a royal banquet," the waiter said quietly.  "Should I send the ambassador some dinner?"

"No, send some guards to arrest him for beating his daughter for doing what he told her to do."  He nodded, his eyes wide.  "The law applies to all, even ambassadors from that planet."  He nodded and went to spread the word to the guards who weren't undercover.  She looked at him.  "Your idea to have the guards as waiters?"

"Rethna's," he admitted, smiling at her.  "You are bad, princess."

"I am not," she said, but she was smiling.  "I am fierce about some things.  I'm also stubborn and willful.  I'm also intelligent enough to have gone over everything on that culture once I found out he was back here to protest my decision not to sign the decree to have two families executed, including their dog, for having an affair."  She leaned closer, and on impulse kissed the end of his nose.  "I know what I'm doing about some things," she said gently.  "Back me up if you can.  If not, then tell me and I'll leave you out.  The crown set me a lot of work to get done."

He nodded, closing his eyes. "I will, Sivya.  That is what a husband does."  He grabbed her head and kissed her for real.  "Soon."  She looked stunned.  "If you want of course."

She swallowed and nodded.  "I might."  He smirked and she grinned back.  "But only if you learn something about the priestesses first."  He nodded that it was a reasonable request.  "Then I suppose it isn't such a bad idea.  People will talk otherwise."

"They will," he admitted.  "I've never been said to be bad at that art," he noted.  She beamed.  "You're pure, aren't you?" he asked in a moment of stunned silence.  She nodded.  "That's what I thought you'd say.  I'll start my research tonight, Sivya.  More goat?" he asked, handing over the tray.  She took her bite with her bit of bread and nibbled on it.  "What next?"

"Next, we have to talk to the crown and get it to calm down a bit more.  It wanted to do a lot at the coronation and it could cause a civil war."  He nodded.  "Then I'm going to bed.  I'm tired."

"Of course you are."  He got comfortable again, looking up at her.  "I don't suppose you have any books?"

"I do actually.  I have our book of faith back in my things."  He smiled for her forethought.  "It was more to remind myself of the tenets I grew up with than anything else," she admitted. "I'll let you borrow it tonight.  It's not as dry as some of the older faiths."

He snickered.  "I'll take your word on it.  I've never cared for the soothing balm of faith."

"Interesting.  You bow to no one faith?"  He shook his head.  "Then I'm happy that you can help me deal with the others.  Tomorrow we have a meeting with the Lord High Patriarch of a faith that is at odds with my own."

"I'll try," he soothed, patting her hand.  He got comfortable as they watched the crowd for a bit, enjoying his position.  She was quite comfortable.  "You sent me a thought," he said quietly.

"I can do that."

"So I noticed."  He glanced up again then went back to watching the dancers entertain the other end of the room.  "You were very gentle."

"I used to lord over a temple, Brast.  I had a group of perpetually giggly and unsomber priestesses underneath my control.  The males weren't much better, but at least they weren't giggly in the temple.  Temples of Alia are silent during worship and it was one way to deal with them when they broke that dictum."

"I see.  So you quieted the bouncing young and calmed the nursery?"  She shuddered so he gave her a long look.  "You don't like children?"

"I don't," she admitted.  "I've never understood children.  Even though I was brought to the temple at a fairly young age, I was older than the others mentally so they put me with the young in the first stage of adulthood.  I've never been around children and I don't understand them."

"Your parents gave you to your temple?"

She gave him a sad smile and went back to playing with his soft hair.  "I was orphaned at eight.  Not six days after the celebration of me achieving my last stage of childhood there was a fire.  The fire got most of them and those that weren't killed there were killed by someone else soon afterwards.  I was at my grandmother's and she died of shock.  My people give their orphans to their chosen faith to have them find them homes.  In that case, I was too old to be cute and too smart to not know that someone had wanted something from my mother that she wouldn't give.  The then-High Priestess told me I'd be safer with them than being given to some other family to raise."  She shrugged but her eyes held a look of helplessness.  "It happens I suppose."

"It does, but it's not the nicest of all outcomes."

She shook her head.  "I didn't mind.  I probably would have ended up there anyway.  My mother didn't like Scholars."  She grimaced.  "We were always at odds about my studies.  I was too much like my paternal grandmother and she hated the woman."

"Ah."  He gave her a gentle squeeze.  Now he understood some of her motivations better.  Priestesses of the blood, those born to do the job, never wanted strife and conflict.  It made more sense and also explained her sneakiness.  They weren't often given the chance to move openly against someone if there were problems.

"What of your own family?" she asked.  "Should I look for your mother and ask her for your hand?"

"No," he said, grimacing. "She's presently still insane from where my brother took over and killed nearly everyone in front of her.  I was at school so I escaped the purge and the assassins he sent after me.  I joined the resistance to fight him and got turned into a mercenary from there."  He looked up again, giving her a wry look.  "I suppose if you *really* wanted to know you could go read the book someone wrote on me."

Her mouth opened.  "You're noble born?"

He nodded.  "I would have been one of those you'd take as a man-in-waiting."  He grinned.  "Shocked?"

"Very. I never imagined a mercenary doing such things.  I suppose it make sense," she admitted at his searching look.  "It's simply something I never expected."  She smiled and kissed him on the top of the head.  "It makes you more than suitable for me to like.  Before you were just pretty, smart, strong, and talented.  Now you're even more qualified by being educated in all this worthless stuff," she said, waving a hand around.

He laughed, shaking his head.  "It has a purpose.  People make their own ideas of what a 'good life' is, Sivya.  You should know that more than most."  She sighed and nodded. "This is the common people's idea of what a 'good life' is."  He smiled at her. "I was so spoiled as a youth. I'm much different."

"We all grow up," she reminded him.  "I'm no longer one of the giggling girls and you're not the young man who first fought because you had to.  I don't hold anyone's youth against them unless it's necessary."  She tugged on a piece of hair.  "Give me the goat?"

"Of course."  He handed it over, watching as she ate small bites.  "Good job.  The others were starting to watch."

"I wish they wouldn't," she said miserably.

"You are their showpiece, Sivya.  You are the one who proves that they're living a 'good life' and you're the one who proves how well they've done for themselves. Even the most homely of Empresses hasn't been that homely and they were all magnificent showpieces to the masses.  Some were just better at it than others.  Think of it like acting."

"I can't act."

"I've noticed," he noted dryly, giving her a look.  "We can help with that."  He got comfortable again and she fed him a bite of food.  "Hurry up, we'll have it taken from us soon by the waiters."

"Then we've got what?"

"That small mixing and mingling period while the next course is finished and brought out."

"Hmm.  Inconvenient."

"Yes, that does describe a royal dinner," he agreed dryly.  "The Empire over, they're all inconvenient, stuffy, and mostly boring.  Welcome to the job, Sivya."

She laughed, giving him a kiss on the head again.  "Thank you.  I'm sure I'll enjoy it greatly."  She grinned at their nearest, staring neighbor. "He made a joke."  They nodded and went back to what they were doing.  "I really wish they would quit staring."

"They never will," he said calmly, looking up at her.  "Learn to ignore them.  Like you would if you were in whatever regalia your temple had."

"Ours was nothing."  He arched an eyebrow.  "Literally.  It was only for joint festivals."  She smirked at him. "Blew a preconceived notion?"

"Yes," he admitted.  He shook his head to clear it.  "We can discuss that later."  She nodded, feeding him another bite before eating the rest herself.  He gave her a look so she fed him the rest of everything.  She didn't like it anyway.
 

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