“Can I talk to her?” Kiem said. Vaile gave an ironic go-ahead gesture.
As he strode across the room, he studied the Emperor’s lined face. She couldn’t be any less worried than Vaile, but you couldn’t see it; even under a degree of pressure that would crack a ship’s hull, she wore the exact expression she used for council meetings and press appearances. Kiem couldn’t help a twinge of admiration.
The Emperor tore her gaze away from the screen as he approached and raised her eyebrows a fraction. “So,” she said. “Kiem. Have you finished your Thean dramatics?”
Kiem gave a shallow bow. “You did give me the Thean representative post, ma’am.”
“I did,” the Emperor said. “You have certainly taken it in directions I did not expect. However, I am currently dealing with larger problems.”
“About that,” Kiem said. “I might have a solution to one of them.”
She gave him a look that contained more than a hint of disbelief. “You,” she said, “have a solution?”
“Well, I’m more like the messenger,” Kiem said. He opened the embossed case, drew out some paper documents—real paper, that crackled under his fingers—and handed them to her. “The Theans drafted this and are willing to sign it. The other vassal planets have seen it. Half the Thean newslogs have positive stories ready to run. The Auditor says he’ll accept it if you do.”
There was dead silence in the anteroom as the Emperor read the papers. Even the aides had stopped muttering.
She raised her eyes when she had finished reading and examined Kiem in further silence. Kiem had very rarely been the subject of the Emperor’s unflinching, undivided attention. It was a little like standing in front of a glowing rock you suspected was going to give you radiation poisoning.
“This,” she said, “nullifies our current Resolution treaty.”
“And forms a new seven-way agreement,” Kiem said. “Yes.”
“Do you know what this would do?” the Emperor said.
“It splits up the link trade equally,” Kiem said. He ticked things off on his fingers. “Gives all the vassals an ambassador to the Galactics. Requires seven-way consensus before any changes to the next Resolution treaty. Seems pretty straightforward: I think we’re a federation now. Did you read the coda to the Thean treaty?”
“I did,” the Emperor said. “I am willing to grant them control of Operation Kingfisher. Total withdrawal of our military from Thean space … we can speak about later.”
“We can’t,” Kiem said. “In five minutes, the treaty ceremony will start, and you have to sign the whole package or sign nothing. Oh, and one more thing,” he added.
“Which is?” the Emperor said, in a tone which reduced the temperature of the air around her.
“General Fenrik retires,” Kiem said. “No advisory role. No part in politics. You can’t just tinker around the edges and jail some soldiers who worked for him, because none of this works if you keep someone in power who tried to start a war. He has to go. Maybe you can find him a monastery.”
Both the aides and Vaile started to speak at once, but everyone stopped when the Emperor held out the slim stack of paper and dropped it on the table by her side.
“You’ve got some nerve,” she said.
The radiation-poisoning gaze was back in full force. Kiem swallowed and just about stopped himself from apologizing. Instead he said, “The choice isn’t stasis or war, ma’am. We can change.”
“By undermining the Empire?”
“I’m a loyal subject of the Empire. Ma’am.”
The Emperor’s mouth cracked open. Kiem had so rarely seen her smile that at first he didn’t recognize it. It was terrifying. “I am pleased to hear it,” she said slowly. “You may go and tell the Auditor I will sign this.”
“What?” Kiem said at the same time as one of aides voiced the start of a protest. “I mean. Thank you?”
The Emperor got to her feet. She ignored both interruptions in favor of picking Kiem apart through the sheer force of her stare. Kiem felt his metaphorical skin start to peel. “Needless to say, this was not what I intended when I chose you for the Thean marriage.”
The door to the Observatory Hall opened. A noise filtered through: the low, nervous buzz of a small crowd.
“I only want the best for us,” Kiem said. “For Iskat.”
“Do you?” the Emperor said. Her thin, unsettling smile hadn’t gone. She scrutinized him like a new piece that had turned up unexpectedly in the middle of a long board game. Kiem was suddenly even more nervous, for reasons that had nothing to do with the negotiation. “I suppose I can work with that.”
She swept ahead of him through the door. Her aides and Vaile hurried to follow.
The staff had finished preparing the Observation Hall. Nobody except the treaty representatives and their guests was allowed in the room, so the attendees were few; the crowds would be let in for the events and celebrations afterward. The Hill Enduring was blazoned in white light every twenty paces on its walls, interspersed with symbols and drapes from the other six planets. Kiem could now put names to a dozen or so of the Thean clan flags.
The Resolution had no symbol. Instead, the junior staffers stood around the edge of the immense space at intervals, each with a silver rod that projected a white illusion field over the floor. It broke across Kiem’s ankles, like the floor had been flooded by a thin layer of shining cloud.
At the front of the hall, the Auditor’s face-field had gone pure silver. He raised a hand, and a gong sounded. Kiem hurried over to the Thean delegation, who were about to take their seats. He met Jainan’s eyes and apparently didn’t need to say anything, because Jainan searched his expression and gave a slow, cool smile.
CHAPTER 32
Kiem was probably the smuggest person at the after-dinner drinks, but he’d decided he was fine with that.
When he and Jainan emerged from dinner into the reception room, it was already crowded; the Theans were bright splashes of clan patterns among the more conventionally dressed Iskaners and the smattering of delegates from other planets. With the treaty safely signed, all the diplomats should be preparing to disperse back to their home planets, but instead most of them were settling in for weeks of talks to hammer out the implications of Thea’s last-minute deal. Iskat’s stranglehold on trade was broken. The Empire was in flux. The vassal planets had their own slow, cumbersome governing structures with their own internal pressures, so none of them seemed keen to upset things immediately, but there were twenty years to hash things out before the next Resolution treaty. The Emperor was in for a lot of arguments in the near future. Kiem sometimes suspected her of enjoying arguments, so that would at least keep her entertained.
But for now, this reception was really just an excuse for all the relevant people on the seven planets to get dressed up, hobnob with their opposite numbers, and have some very good champagne. The noise level was already high.
Kiem felt bubbly and light, more than he’d expected even from the champagne and the relief of sealing the treaty. Jainan was at his side, his silhouette sharp in the deep green of his clan, and a good part of Kiem’s glow came from the certainty that he had the most desirable person in the room right next to him, and everyone was probably jealous. He could be magnanimous in victory. More than that, actually, he felt so bubbly that he had to sit on the impulse to hug nearly everyone he met.