Page 22 of The Exile's Curse

It had only been thirteen. They were asking for the emperor to forgive them early. Which sat uneasily in Lucien’s gut.

Balance or not, this was politics.

"What happens if you refuse?" he asked.

"That is difficult to predict," Aristides said. "I like Mikvel. He is young, but he is forward-thinking and shows signs of being a good king. But he needs the council's support."

Which he could well lose if he couldn't at least get Illvya to agree to discuss an early end to House Elannon's disgrace. That might mean a wedding turned to a coup. And if the royal house lost power, then the Ashmeisters would fight. Some of them were still very traditional. Possibly some of them shared the views of the Ashmeister Elannon about breaking up the empire to restore balance. Andalyssia was cold and grim, but it also controlled the mountain ranges where a lot of the empire's iron and gold—not to mention other precious stones and metals—were mined. Illvya needed it to be ruled by a man they could work with, not an enemy.

"So you want me to go and what—see if Elannon has learned their lesson?" And if they had, tell Aristides to back King Mikvel and allow a house that committed treason to step back into power? Or, if they hadn't, face potential chaos in one of the richest countries in the empire. He was glad he wouldn’t be making the decision.

No, just finding the evidence to help Aristides make it. Goddess damn it.

"Something like that. But not just you. We were sending a delegation to the wedding anyway. Both to attend the ceremonies and to discuss the mining treaties."

There were always discussions of the mining treaties.

"You don't want to attend to this yourself?"

"No. At this point, if I go, it can only be interpreted as Andalyssia being back in favor or me being there to tighten my fist. Neither would be useful to the matter at hand. Better to see if we can resolve this quietly. You have a high enough rank that you can represent us at all the wedding festivities as well as determining whether Elannon can be trusted to rejoin the Ashmeisters."

The Ashmeisters. His memories of them were of a group of seriously grim and ruthless men. The passing of the old king had been unexpected, and his son was young. In Andalyssian history, there was more than one instance where that set of circumstances had led to one of the Ashmeisters taking the throne.

He could understand why Aristides was keen for them to not stir up trouble again, but he had to ask, "Are you sure I'm the right person? After all, I was there for the Ashmeister Elannon's trial."

Aristides smiled, the expression fierce. "If they protest, I will claim it would be balance for you to be there. They are unlikely to be able to argue with that."

Maybe not, but they would want to. There had never been an Andalyssian Truth Seeker. Favoring one magic over the rest so strongly was against balance. They did, however, have seers who exercised quite some influence in the court, with their odd mix of ritual keeping and foretelling and other things he'd never entirely gotten straight. He'd been able to tell that the seers spoke what they believed to be true when they made their pronouncements of the future, but given the Andalyssians professed not to use straight water magic and it was usually water magic that leaned itself to prophecy, he'd been unsure whether their pronouncements often came true. He hadn't stayed long enough to find out.

"Is there any point in me trying to convince you to send someone else?"

"No. You solve my problem neatly. Your cases are all in a position where they can do without you for a few months, or so the clerk of your division informs me. The advocate general agrees."

Dammit. If Maxim had agreed, then this was already a done deal.

"How long?" Maybe it would only be a week or so actually in Andalyssia, which would make the whole thing more bearable.

Aristides grimaced. "The wedding rites begin a week before the wedding itself. And continue until the queen's coronation."

"Five weeks?" Lucien sputtered. Goddess damn it. Factor in travel time and that would be more like three and a half months away freezing his bloody ass off at the top of the world. He resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. Marqs did not bang their heads on tables. Not in public, at least.

"How soon will the delegation be leaving?" he asked.

"In a few weeks. The wedding rites begin at the end of the month. They need them to be completed before winter sets in and no one can travel back from the mountains. I am putting a navire at the disposal of the mission. That will cut down the travel time to something like a week each way, I believe."

Well, that was something. He'd only lose two months, not closer to three and a half. He made himself nod, though he couldn't summon any further expression of enthusiasm.

"So you have some time to prepare and put whatever you need in place to assist you in the management of your estate while you are away. Send the bills to me if you have costs."

"I am not destitute, Your Imperial Majesty. My father left the estate in good standing."

"I know. But more money is always useful. And I am inconveniencing you."

"I am a member of your judiciary. It's my job to go where you send me."

"You are also a peer of my empire," Aristides said. "Which means our relationship is slightly different to the way it was before. Truth Seekers may be deployed as I wish, true, but I have duty to your people not to deprive them of their lord unnecessarily. They are my people, too, Lucien. Do not forget that part. I want them to prosper as much as you do."

He hadn't thought of it in exactly that way before. Or realized that the emperor viewed him differently now. They'd spoken immediately after his father died, but it hadn't been spelled out in so many words. Or maybe it had and Lucien had been too caught up in the fog of grief and sudden unexpected responsibility to understand. "Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty."

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