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“Absolutely not,” I said, hanging onto my temper with both hands.
The assistant commander of the imperial guard, Zunidh's spymaster, was a brave man, as he would have to be to handle the job. Still, there are not many that can stand their ground in the face of Imperial displeasure and quietly, courteously, insist.
“My lord, I assure you that I would not suffer this disruption of your Radiancy’s household if it were not essential. But the security of your person and your realm is at stake.”
“From my secretary? Pah. An absurd idea.” I tried not to spit the words at him as I passed, pacing the length of my study. “You have met him, have you not?”
I wanted to laugh in his face, in the face of the conspirators. As if I cared in the slightest about the stability of my reign. They could have my throne and welcome–indeed, I could think of no more appropriate punishment. But–the answer was the same as it always had been. I had obligations to Zunidh, to its people, and I could not ignore them.
I reluctantly admired the commander’s tenacity in the face of my displeasure. I knew that the gossip of the court had much to say about how the emperor favored his commoner secretary. They tended to describe him as my pet–I had caught the epithet “lapdog” more than once. I expected worse things were said, things that my household would not repeat to me.
None of the gossipers, I felt certain, had ever touched on the reality of what Cliopher Mdang was to me. I was not sure I could describe it myself, and I am, if I may say so, rather good with words.
“I have, my lord, and indeed I would not ordinarily think it likely. But the fact remains that we have incontrovertible proof of the lady’s involvement in the plot, and he has spent a great deal of time in her company.”
“Have you any evidence whatsoever of his involvement? Proximity is hardly proof of treason,” I snapped.
“Of course not, my lord, but it creates a reasonable suspicion. And it is unquestionably true that he has access to sensitive information in the course of his duties. I do not ask your Radiancy to condemn him immediately, but only to allow us to take him for questioning.”
He was correct, which I hated most of all. I thought about what taking him for questioning might mean. Thought about some windowless underground room that must exist, the screaming unheard by anyone in the airy halls above. Thought about Cliopher’s open, cheerful manner, his irreverence, his brilliance, his kindness. They would not last long in such a place.
“You will take him nowhere.” I said with finality. “You may question him - no. We will question him, here. We will be able to determine if he is truthful. You may remain and ensure that we ask all the necessary questions.”
“My lord–” he started to protest, but even he quailed at whatever he saw in my expression.
“Be satisfied, Commander.” It was a warning, and he heard it. He bowed his head.
Less than a quarter of an hour later, the bells rang, and Cliopher arrived, neat and bright-eyed, ready to begin the morning’s work as usual. I watched him carefully as he entered the study and made his obeisance. There was nothing different about his bearing or countenance that I could see, no tension or fear visible. I saw that, although he noted the presence of the commander with interest, he did not seem particularly concerned by it.
He rose at my gesture, smiled and said, “Good morning, my lord,” as he did every morning. I felt a weight on my chest as it crossed my mind that this could be the last time he greeted me thus.
“Good morning, Sayo Mdang,” I said. “Do not take your seat just yet.” Cliopher obeyed, and remained standing in the middle of the carpet.
“There is an urgent matter we must discuss,” I began. I wanted to see how he responded to the news of the attempted coup before bringing up the involvement of the lady.
“My lord?”
“The Imperial Guard has been working to unravel a conspiracy against my reign,” I told him. His eyebrows flew up, and every hint of a smile disappeared from his expression. “The goal of this conspiracy appears to have been to depose me and install a puppet as lord of Zunidh.” Extreme concern, and more than a hint of anger, were readily visible. But no consciousness, no guilt that I could see. Was it only that I did not wish to see it?
“Last night, the principal conspirators were discovered and arrested,” I continued. I took a breath. “Adelia Ealoapeha was among them.”
And oh, that got a reaction. Shock and fury, chased by fear, as realization dawned on him of the position he was in. Of why I was telling him all of this. I watched the color drain out of his face, and then Cliopher sank down to his knees. He did not put his face to the floor again, and I was glad. I did not wish to see him behave like someone who needed to hide his face from scrutiny.
“Sayo Mdang,” I said, more softly than I intended. “We must ask you about your relations with the lady.”
Oh, Cliopher’s face was a study at that moment. The pallor was followed by an intense blush, and he had a harder time than usual meeting my eyes. Finally he said, “My lord, I regret to say that she was an acquaintance of mine. I had thought, a friend.” He took a breath and then admitted, “We were lovers these past two months.”
The sentence hung in the air for a moment. I had known this, of course–Conju and others of my household kept me abreast of court gossip, and so I had heard right away about the lovely, highborn lady who had enchanted my secretary–but we did not discuss such matters. Cliopher was a private man, and I respected that boundary. It was excruciating to know that I was, of necessity, using my authority over him to demand he share such intimate details of his private life.
I mentally pushed away the discomfort and focused on the task ahead of me. Although I had, of course, never been formally trained in the law, I had spent enough time in the Throne of Judgment by now that I knew how an examination of a witness should be conducted. Cliopher did too, of course, but that didn’t matter. And if he resisted answering, well, that too would be useful information.
"When did you first meet Lady Adelia, Sayo Mdang?"
He answered me promptly. "We were briefly introduced at the court session where she arrived with the princess of Jilkano, my lord. As you may recall, I was standing as your Hands when the princess swore fealty. However, our first substantive conversation occurred at the reception in honor of the recipients of the Emperor’s Prize for sculpture."
“What did you speak of?”
“On that occasion, beyond the initial pleasantries, we spoke mostly of art, my lord. She was–she professed herself to be–greatly interested in some of the works on display. I spoke with her about the Imperial Art Museum in the city, and we made a plan to visit there in the evening, three days later.”
“And was that the next time you saw her?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Describe that evening.”
“My lord, we visited the museum as we planned, largely spending time in the contemporary Voonran galleries. We then had dinner at a Mgunaïve restaurant recommended to me by Ser Rhodin. After that,” his blush deepened, but he continued steadily, “we went to a hotel in the city. The Unicorn.”
I was rather surprised that he had taken her to bed so soon. She was very lovely, but it did not seem to be in character for him. Was this part of her strategy to get him to divulge secrets? Or was I wrong about him, and this is how he behaved when he was truly entranced?
“Is that where you had all of your encounters?” I asked him.
“Yes, my lord.” His ears were really quite red.
“Not in your rooms?”
“No, my lord.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I have made it a practice not to allow anyone in my rooms overnight, my lord, since I became your secretary. It seemed prudent,” he said. “And as a lady-in-waiting, she had little privacy in her own sleeping arrangements.” He paused, thinking, then added, “I recall that she did ask several times to see my rooms, and seemed disappointed when I suggested the hotel.”
“How often did you meet at the Unicorn?” I asked, and watched him grow even redder. I hated to ask this and yet, I had to admit, I was fascinated. It was a shameful relief to have a legitimate reason to ask him about his affair. Once, I had given into temptation and sent for him in the middle of the night, only to learn that he was not in his rooms and no one could find him. I had tormented myself with jealousy and fascination, and now here I was, tormenting him in return.
“Perhaps a dozen times in total, my lord,” he said. And then, for he could not help his tendency to precision, he corrected himself, “Ten.”
"Did you ever fall asleep in her presence?" I asked.
"Yes, my lord," he admitted.
“When you went to the hotel, did you bring along your writing kit?” I asked him.
“Never, my lord,” he said immediately. “I left it in my room, which I always locked.”
“So she never was alone in a space with your writing kit, or any other work papers?”
“No, my lord,” he said. He thought about this for a moment and added, “I recall I had a note from your Radiancy in my pocket on one occasion, and I cannot be certain she did not read it. But it contained no sensitive information.”
The commander stirred in the corner, and I did not need him to speak to know this was worth following up. “What did the note say?”
WIthout a word, Cliopher opened his writing kit and shuffled briefly through its contents to retrieve a folded paper. He looked at me, wordlessly seeking permission, and when I nodded, rose and placed it before me on my desk. I recognized my own writing. It was the furthest thing from sensitive, I was relieved to see–a lightly teasing reference to one of his enthusiasms, which had led to an excruciatingly long Council session, and the order that he take the following day off. I did not know what to think of the fact that he had kept this note in his kit, but this was not the time to wonder about that.
“Did you ever discuss your work with Lady Adelia?" I asked him.
He followed the change of direction with no more than a blink. “Not in any detail, my lord.”
“Describe those conversations.”
"My lord, early in our acquaintance, she asked me if I liked my work, and how I came to my position. Thereafter, ah. She would ask me in a teasing manner whether I had enjoyed myself with the Lord Emperor that day, in the manner one might ask a small child about their playmate. I did not appreciate this, and told her so. She asked me once what I had worked on that day, and I answered her, as I have always done, that my work is confidential and I would never break your trust by discussing it."
I was gratified by his clear and direct responses, the demonstration of his care to protect state secrets. And I was also, I let myself realize, amused and gratified by the indignation with which he recounted this conversation. Even when enchanted by the lady, he did not let her laugh at me or our work together.
“And you did not suspect her of any treasonous activities?”
His eyes were wide, meeting mine without hesitation then. “No, my lord. I swear to you that I did not. I should have realized that she was–that her interest was motivated by my position. But I cannot think of anything that she learned from me that would have furthered her purpose.”
At that moment I hated Adelia Ealoapeha all the more intensely for making Cliopher feel as though he had nothing to attract a lover aside from his position. I was aware of the illogic of my hatred, for had I not also been bitterly jealous when I thought she appreciated him properly?
No matter. He had, to my mind, more than adequately vindicated himself. I looked at the commander, eyebrows raised. “Commander?” I asked. Are you satisfied? I thought, but did not say.
“Thank you, Glorious One,” he said. At my gesture of dismissal, he saluted and took his leave.
I walked to the window and looked out, attempting to calm my heart and my breathing. It was over. Cliopher was safe. No one was going to take him away in chains, lock him in a tiny cell, lead him to the block to die. It was over.
I turned back to find that Cliopher had prostrated himself fully. I could see a slight tremble in his shoulders. And then, with an unpleasant swoop of realization in my stomach, I noticed the position of his hands. An apology in the first degree.
“Cliopher.”
His face remained pressed into the carpet, so his voice was muffled. “Forgive me, my lord.” I could see that the tips of his ears were still red.
He could not see my face from his position, but nevertheless I turned away before I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Rise. You have done nothing that requires forgiveness."
Cliopher rose. “I should have been more careful, my lord,” he said quietly.
"It seems to me you took all necessary precautions, and I am glad that you did. If it had been otherwise, I don't know that I could have protected you," I said. My own honesty took me by surprise, but I wanted him to know how narrow an escape he had had. I wanted him to be less trusting, although the idea hurt me. "I am sorry to have had to question you in such a fashion." I took a breath, let it out slowly. “And–I’m sorry about the lady. I can’t save her, Cliopher,” I said quietly.
He looked surprised. “Of course not, my lord,” he said.
He came closer to me, then, and knelt at my feet. All perfectly within the bounds of etiquette, and yet the surprise of it, for some reason, set my heart to beating rapidly.
"What is it, Cliopher?"
"My lord,” he said softly, “I am very grateful that you did question me yourself." He looked up and met my eyes. "Would you permit me?" He made a small gesture with his hand and my heart caught in my throat.
A subject of mine could not, of course, kiss my hand or my foot, for fear of the terrible danger of my touch. Nevertheless, there was one traditional gesture of devotion that the Emperors of Astandalas occasionally permitted–to touch the hem of their robes. I was not fond of this for several reasons, most of all the risk of a disastrous accidental touch, and rarely allowed it. But this was what Cliopher, with that gesture, was asking for.
Cliopher waited for my response. He was always–well, usually–correct at performing the minimum requirements of formal etiquette. I had never seen him go further, before this.
I could not speak, but I nodded, very slightly. He reached out further and grasped the hem of my over-robe. It was made of ahalo cloth, softly shining, off-white with a suggestion of gold. I could feel the tension, the slight tug as he lifted the cloth with both hands to his lips. It felt like the distant echo of a touch. He closed his eyes as he kissed my hem, and his expression in that moment–still, focused, peaceful–felt like a blade slid smoothly into my heart. I had never wanted so much to take his hand, to cup his cheek. To draw him up from his knees and into my arms. To finally learn how that shining hair felt under my lips. I could almost feel the phantom weight and warmth of that embrace that had never happened, would never happen.
Cliopher opened his eyes and looked up at me again, gently releasing his hold on my robe. His brown gaze was clear and open, waiting, I realized, for my response. Trusting me, whatever it should be.
The wave of longing swamped my throat so that speaking was still difficult. It would always be proper for me to respond with a gesture of blessing, but I could not bear to act the role of the Sun-on-Earth at this moment, with him. Not when what I felt was so very human. So, for a long moment more, I simply let myself look at him. Wondered what he could read in my eyes.
“Come now,” I said at last. My voice was rough with emotion, and I did not try to hide it. “Rise, and take your seat. We are starting the morning’s work late, after all."
And he did, and so we continued, almost as usual.