Death and the Emperor

Book 3 Chapter XIV: Seeing Dead People

All roads lead to Rome, and there were times when it might have struck us that almost every branch of study or subject of conversation skirted forbidden ground. -- Henry James, The Turn of the Screw

Not-Varan -- no, Varan -- nodded. "It's about time you realised it! It's really quite rude of you, to accuse someone of being a figment of your imagination and then not to listen to them until they prove they aren't."

Gialma tried to wrap his mind around this. "But-- You're-- How? How can I see you?"

They made an odd picture, the mortal and the Reaper, standing in the middle of a brightly-lit library. Varan's all-black clothing and bone white skin made her look disturbingly unreal, like an ancient photograph given life. All the colour in the room seemed to fade and dull around her. It was as if she stood under a perpetual shadow.

Varan shrugged. "Good question. I wish I knew the answer. But I can't stand around here talking. I haven't finished today's work."

It briefly occurred to Gialma to wonder what sort of work his cousin had now that she was dead. But she was gone before he had the chance to ask.

~~~~

Over the last few months Kilan had noticed Gialma was looking increasingly haunted and harried. He attributed it at first to a guilty conscience. But now Nimetath's spies began to report the prince's odd behaviour when he thought he was alone -- waving to an empty garden, apparently having a conversation in an empty room, looking up when there was nothing that could have attracted his attention.

Put together, all these incidents painted a worrying picture. Was Gialma going mad?

There was nothing he could do about it at present. He had no solid proof yet. But it was alarming.

Kilan had more things to alarm him than just his cousin's eccentricity. Malish had sent ambassadors claiming Nalginton only wanted peace. Neither Kilan nor Qihadal believed a word of it. But at present they could do nothing without seeming to be the aggressors.

And the agreed-upon year was rapidly running out.

Neither of them had mentioned the inevitable consummation of their marriage. But it hung over them all the time -- like a death sentence, he thought when he felt especially bitter, then realised that phrasing was quite unfortunate in this case. Death had nothing to do with this.

Qihadal was the one to raise the subject. For reasons known only to herself, she chose the middle of breakfast to do this. At first she spoke of things that had nothing to do with their marriage, making her sudden change of subject even more of a shock.

"I see the Duchess of Glynren has written yet another long epistle," she observed, glancing over the day's post. "And there is a petition of some sort here." She pushed the letters aside to look over later. "The wallpaper in the small sitting room is becoming faded. I think I'll buy some more today."

Kilan tried to remember which sitting room she meant. There were dozens throughout the palace, and more than half of them were small. Oh well. Qihadal wasn't the sort of person who bought things for no reason. If she thought the wallpaper needed replaced, she could decide that for herself. "Watch out for photographers. They seem to have a sixth sense for when royals go shopping."

Qihadal nodded and changed the subject. "I've been to see the royal physician several times lately."

This was the first Kilan had heard of it. His mind immediately jumped to the most alarming conclusion. "Are you ill?"

What if she was seriously ill? Would she blame Death for it?

She shook her head before he had time to truly panic. "No, I am well. I wished to ask her what the chances are of my conceiving on our wedding night."