Caldenia gazed at the pond, as if she had gone deaf.
“What about the last time?” I asked.
“It was years later. The Dominion faced civil unrest. In theory, everyone agrees that the realm must evolve or die. In practice, people resist change because it threatens their way of life. They have the luxury of not worrying about the future of the nation. They care only about their survival in the here and now. Not everyone supported the Sovereign’s reforms, no matter how much they were needed. A plot was hatched to kill him, and he was infected with a biological agent that resurrected the dormant genetic disease. It was never fully eradicated. It had just been suppressed.”
Caldenia crossed her arms on her chest and stopped by a bench facing the water. Her nephew stopped next to her. They stood five feet apart, not looking at each other.
This was all so sad and terrible.
“The Sovereign knew he was dying,” Kosandion said. “If the true cause of his death was discovered, as it would be, the fitness of his heir would be called into question. The genetic weakness of the previous generation was too well documented. The Dominion, which already faced an external threat from a foreign power and was experiencing a civil crisis, would fracture even further. The heir was still very young, half a year from adulthood. He lacked a power base sufficient to avoid a civil war.”
“They would’ve killed him,” Caldenia said, her voice harsh and tightly controlled. “They would’ve murdered the heir and the other two children and then they would’ve clawed their way to the throne over their bodies.”
“The Sovereign had to die in a way that would hide all signs of the disease. Someone had to kill him and take credit for it. The Sovereign couldn’t be murdered by some random nobody because that would make the dynasty look weak. He couldn’t be killed by someone from within the Dominion, because that would make his entire faction look incompetent in failing to detect this threat and endanger his son’s ascension.”
I didn’t like where this was going.
Kosandion stared at the pond. “The assassin had to be someone powerful. Someone frightening. Someone with the means and the motive, who could make this murder so loud, so outrageous, that the entire Dominion would unite in sympathy behind the heir. Instead of a weakling who failed to anticipate and resist a threat, the late Sovereign had to become a martyr, his name a battle cry.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“The Sovereign asked his sister for help for the very last time. And she came.”
“Of course, I came. He was my baby brother,” Caldenia said quietly. “In the end, family is all we have.”
“The fourth time my aunt visited me, I watched her poison my father,” Kosandion said. “Resven had brought me to witness it. I stood in a hidden passage and watched it so that later on, I could stand before the Dominion and name my aunt as his killer with honesty and sincerity. The Dominion would feel my anguish and my sorrow and know they were true.”
“I am so sorry,” I told them.
“Keep your pity,” Caldenia said. “I knew the consequences.”
I had never seen Caldenia so fragile. In this moment, she seemed made of glass, as if a careless touch would shatter her. She’d given up her throne and plunged two nations into conflict to save her brother’s children. And knowing her, she hadn’t hesitated for a moment.
Tony, Resven, and the two visitors crossed the inn and were coming down the path toward us.
Kosandion smiled, a bitter parting of lips. “It cost my aunt everything. She had been feared before, but now she was reviled and despised. Her decades of careful governance had been forgotten. The Supremacy, shocked by the outpouring of collective grief from the Dominion, turned against her. She fought to hold on to power, but eventually she abandoned that struggle and fled.”
Caldenia gave him a long look, and the fragility evaporated. “And yet, I’m alive and doing quite well. The entire galaxy has been trying to separate me from my head for years, yet here I am…what is the saying, dear? Living my best life.”
Kosandion finally turned his head and looked at her. “I am glad you are well.”
She looked back at him. “No need to get all solemn about it, my dear. Don’t forget, I have seen you in swaddling clothes. Not only am I doing well, but you still seem to require my aid.”
Kosandion bowed. “Thank you for Surkar.”
“It was a small thing. Don’t bend your head. You are the Sovereign.”
“And you will always be the Empress.”
Her Grace snorted. “The empress of what? I left those fools with a strong nation that functioned like a well-oiled machine. In less than a decade, they managed to fracture it into three puny kingdoms, one of which came to you begging to be taken in.”
“In fairness, they brought us wonderful mineral wealth,” Kosandion said, his eyes hiding a smile.
“I don’t mind that you helped yourself—galaxy knows somebody should have saved them from themselves—but I don’t understand why you left the other two unattended. You should convince them to join you, my dear, by whatever means are necessary. Frame it as a rescue of the Dominion’s dear brothers and sisters. It would help your image and give the military something to do before they get antsy and start dreaming up a coup. Nothing ventured, nothing gained…”
Two kids came down the path and stopped. A girl around fifteen or so and a boy a couple of years younger. Caldenia saw them and fell silent.
“They know,” Kosandion said softly.
She didn’t answer him.
“Would you like to say hello, aunt?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
Kosandion offered her his arm and led the Empress to meet her niece and nephew. I stayed where I was, giving them the privacy they needed.
Nobody was in danger here.
24
When we last left the warm embrace of Gertrude Hunt, Sean departed to put out the latest Dushegub fire and Kosandion and Caldenia had a lovely chat. But the spousal selection marches on, and now Kosandion must date. Mandatory flirting. Ah, the lives of galactic rulers. So eventful. So busy. So tragic.
But life goes on. Let’s check in and see what is happening.
I dragged my hand over my face. “Sean is a werewolf. He is new to this whole innkeeper thing. But you are like me. You were born into this business. You know better.”
Tony didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic. “They are uninjured. No harm is being done to them. They just can’t move.”
On our back lawn, hidden from view by the house, five Dushegubs stood frozen in weird poses, arranged in a picturesque manner. They must have really pissed Sean off because he got Tony to freeze them in place.
“Harm doesn’t have to be physical. It can also be emotional.”
“Dushegubs don’t have emotions. Besides, I think this looks festive. Just view them as holiday decorations.”
“For which holiday?”
“Halloween. It’s only 3 months away.”
Ugh.
Something was happening by the driveway. Something involving raised voices. I concentrated. Marais, standing just inside the boundary. He wouldn’t have stepped on the inn’s grounds unless he wanted to alert us.