559 - Her choices

“What does that word mean?” Niku asked me, as Sijurai and I carried her on a litter out of the hall, surrounded by Servants who’d voted chalk congratulating us. “‘Defer?’ Said that way?” Vriah had been long enough without her Ama, she let us know with the piercing clarity of a bird, but with words. Over and over I heard, in wondering tones, “Tennunga’s hair, on a half-chocolate head,” and “What a beautiful child.” She was two and a half now.

“Put off,” I said, when we were in a little more privacy. “When they said ‘defer the question of our children’s place in the line of succession,’ they meant deal with it later. They are doing that because I have two healthy ones who are older than her, Fifth and Kima, so most likely it won’t matter. Now we have to decide whether she gets the semanakraseyeni education or not… my thought is chalk, in case they decide she should be in line. As time passes and more A-niah are in Yeola-e teaching Yeolis how to fly, it will become more likely, I think. But you were saying it was a way to get your children out of that trap… Assembly deferring the question is the closest, actually, to us getting our choice on this. If they defer it long enough, it could even be her choice.”

We looked into each other’s eyes, and I sensed she knew my thought, I will not be here. I had five and a half years, roughly, at the most. What would she want to do? Our children would all still be young; if she decided to return home, she’d take them with her. We haven’t talked about such things, I thought. We should. “That’s good,” she said, then, as if she’d read my mind, “We should talk about all this. Perhaps we could see about giving her part of the official semanakraseyeni education. It’s a good one.”

“Part? I suppose that’s possible. It doesn’t officially start until six, so we have some time to decide. And what she tells us in that time might influence it.”

“Exactly… they’re giving her choices, and that’s good.”

Now wasn’t the time to get into the greater discussion of what she’d do after my death, though, with so many people wanting to see me. We had thought to take right off back to Arko after the vote, but I was subjected to so much persuasion to stay the night that we did. The Hearthstone and Assembly Palace both had been built so like the previous, and I’d been so wrapped up in what I would say, that I’d only distantly remembered that the last time I’d seen them, they’d been skeletons of stone heaped with still-smoking ashes. Now I got the tour, to admire the new Arkan-glass windows and skylights, the improved file-cabinets, the replacement stone steps for those which had been worn concave.

The School of the Sword was new-built too, and of course I had to do some sparring for the students; then it was the Shrine; then we had dinner and an impromptu party in the Hearthstone. For everyone who’d stayed here, it was my first time being with them in close to a year and three quarters. Such a thorough introduction to Niku for them was politic, too.

Blessing of blessings, I talked Shaina and Etana into moving to Arko. I seemed firm enough on the Crystal Throne now, for them, and of course I could hand them jobs in the Arkan bureaucracy. That meant all my kids would be in one place with me and all their other parents, except for Fifth who’d visit Tanasha as usual every summer. I needed more Yeoli staff anyway; it was time to start making reforms, and that would be easiest for my own people.

I had a nice long talk with my stepfather, who I’d barely seen in four years, and finally met Artira’s betrotheds. The man-couple I knew, since both of them had grown up in Vae Arahi. The semanakraseye works fairly closely as well with the Undersecretary of the Deputy Minister of the Exchequer, so I’d got to know Dahana Shae-Sima well that way, too; perhaps he and Ardi had made their arrangement around the office spring-fountain. His husband Enterae Chereda was a cousin of Mana’s and had become a marya-smith. I’d had no idea that they and Ardi had become such close friends, part of the cost of being away from home so much for so long. But then I had never been her confidante, and she picked confidantes who really could keep confidences.

Her wife-to-be—they were planning to marry as a four in spring—I knew I would most likely not know. Ardi hadn’t told me much about her in her letters, except that her name was Taina and she was with the army, so they’d had to pine for each other once we’d marched on to the border and Ardi had headed back home. I’d never thought she’d go for a warrior; when I asked myself why, it was that I’d thought she felt warriors were too coarse, inner words I now had to eat.

The party had gotten large enough that we’d had to repair to the dining hall, Niku by necessity holding court on the inclined couch, when the four came in. One towered much taller than the other three. For a moment I thought, Didn’t she write that Taina was a woman? until they got close enough that I knew her build even under peacetime clothes.

My jaw dropped—literally, not just figuratively, for they all started laughing. Groping hands of the Hermaphrodite… my sister is with Monkey-butt!?