Death and the Emperor

Book 2 Chapter II: The Letter

What connection can there be, between the place in Lincolnshire, the house in town, the Mercury in powder, and the whereabout of Jo the outlaw with the broom, who had that distant ray of light upon him when he swept the churchyard-step? What connection can there have been between many people in the innumerable histories of this world, who, from opposite sides of great gulfs, have, nevertheless, been very curiously brought together!
-- Charles Dickens, Bleak House

The letter arrived late one Ailmar[1] evening. Nadriet had spent a very long, very tiring day reading letters sent to Kilan by various well-wishers, as well as non-wedding-related correspondence such as a request for the pardon of a condemned man. Her thoughts had long ago turned longingly to a hot cup of tea and her nice, soft, comfortable bed.

Kilan was embroiled in yet another argument with his High Council, this time about the wedding guest list. Tomorrow Nadriet was sure she would hear all about it. But right now, she just wanted to finish reading this stack of papers so she could go to bed.

She had just opened the final letter of the pile when the door opened.

"A letter has just arrived, your Highness," a footman announced, holding out the sealed letter on a silver tray. "It is marked urgent, and is from the Emperor's fiancée. I was instructed that it must be passed on to him immediately."

"Thank you," Nadriet said, suppressing a sigh. There went any hope of getting to bed any time soon. "Leave it on the table, please. I'll see that he gets it tonight."

~~~~

Kilan left his council chamber feeling like he would dearly love to punch someone in the face. His High Council seemed to have somehow split in two, almost cleanly down the middle. On the one side was -- who else? -- Chief Counsellor Dilves and her supporters. On the other was Counsellor Tolceth, and her supporters. The disagreement was over how many members of the Malishese royal family should be invited. Dilves was of the opinion that practically the entire family should be invited to make sure no one would be insulted by feeling left out. Tolceth was of the opinion that it was far more important to invite Carannish nobles who might start plotting against the Emperor if they weren't invited, and so only the Princess's direct family -- father, mother and any siblings she had -- should be sent invitations.

The argument was well-underway before someone thought of asking Kilan for his opinion. When he informed them that in his opinion, there should be as few people as possible at this wedding, because everyone knew that it was a political alliance rather than an actual wedding... Well, he might as well have thrown oil on a fire. Within minutes both sides had stopped shouting at each other and started shouting at him.

So, when he entered his office to find Nadriet waiting with a letter, his immediate reaction was an exasperated groan.

"What is it now?"

"A letter from your... fiancée." His sister made a complicated face at the word "fiancée". It somehow conveyed bemusement, sympathy and exasperation all at once. "Apparently it's urgent."

Kilan blinked, surprised. "What could she have to say that's urgent?" A sudden hopeful thought occured to him. "Do you think she wants to break off the engagement?"

Nadriet shrugged. Her hair, which she still twisted into the innumerable ringlets she had worn as a child, danced wildly round her face. "Open it, and we'll find out."

Kilan broke the seal and took the letter out of the envelope. It was written on a curious, thick sort of paper that smelt of perfume and something eerily like decay. The letter itself was remarkably short.