Henthas chuckled.

“As for failing to bow to you,” Grigor went on, “please forgive me.” He half stood and sketched a small bow that was really nothing more than a nod. “Now, can we please be done with all this foolishness and discuss the matter at hand?”

Chofya glowered at him, her color high. But after a moment, she gave a curt nod. “Very well,” she said. “By the matter at hand I assume you mean the selection of Carden’s successor.”

“Actually, no,” the duke said, all traces of a smile vanishing from his face. “I mean the making of plans for my investiture as king. I do hope that you and your daughter will feel free to remain in the castle until the celebrations are complete.”

“This castle belongs as much to Kalyi and me as it does to you!”

“There’s no Solkaran blood in your veins, Your Highness,” he said, his tone contemptuous.

“What about the girl?” Brail asked. “Surely you don’t intend to deny her bloodright.”

“This is a big castle,” Numar said, before Grigor could respond. “I can’t imagine that there isn’t room here for Kalyi and her mother, no matter who is chosen to lead Aneira.”

Grigor cast a venomous look at his brother, but after a brief pause, he nodded. “I suppose there’s room.”

The queen was gazing at Numar as if seeing him for the first time. Clearly she hadn’t expected him to take her part. In light of his reputation, she might not even have expected him to speak.

“Now, as to my investiture,” Grigor began again. “I’m willing to wait a few more days-”

“There will be no investiture,” Chofya said. “Not until all the dukes have arrived and selected Carden’s successor.”

Grigor shook his head. “The crown belongs to House Solkara. We decide who rules, not the dukes.”

“The Council of Dukes has always met to select a new king,” Pronjed said.

“The Council is a formality, a way of presenting our choice to the other houses. You know that as well as I.”

“As I understand it,” Tebeo said, “the Volumes call for a vote.”

Grigor closed his eyes, as if struggling to keep his composure. “That’s true, but as I said, the vote is a formality. The Council hasn’t actually chosen a king in hundreds of years.”

The archminister shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “That’s only because there hasn’t been a dispute within the royal house that required resolution by the Council. Now there is.”

“We will not allow the Solkaran Supremacy to be ordered about by outsiders!”

“If you try to defy the Council, brother,” Numar said mildly, “the other houses may see fit to do away with the Solkaran Supremacy. None of us wants that, do we?”

Grigor balled his hands into fists, until his knuckles were white as Qirsi hair. But when he spoke, his voice remained even. “What is it you propose, Chofya? Surely you don’t want the crown for yourself.”

“No,” she said. “As you’re so fond of pointing out to me, I’m not Solkaran. Kalyi is Carden’s rightful heir. I want her to be queen when she’s of age. Until then I propose a regency.”

“Who would you select as her regent?”

The queen hesitated, but only for an instant. She even managed a small smile. “You, of course. You’re the eldest of Carden’s brothers. It seems appropriate that you should guide her through the early years of her reign.”

“You actually trust me with this?”

“Shouldn’t I?”

A smile stretched across the man’s face. “Of course. But you’ve shown little faith in me or my motives in the past. I find it strange that you’d suddenly see fit to entrust me with instructing your daughter in the ways of statecraft.”

“Kalyi is ten years old, Lord Solkara. If I could make her queen without your help, I would. But under the laws of the land I cannot. Since I

doubt that you’d agree to a regency with anyone else as regent, I’m willing to place Kalyi in your hands for the next six years. I’ll be here to help as I can, and I intend to have her appoint Pronjed as her archminister. You won’t be doing this alone.“

Grigor looked from the queen to the archminister, nodding slowly. “Actually, it’s not clear that I’ll be doing this at all.”

Chofya paled. “Does that mean that you intend to oppose her?”

“I’ve made no secret of the fact that I wish to be king, that indeed I feel entitled to the crown. As you say, I’m Carden’s eldest brother, and therefore the logical choice to be Aneira’s next king. We came close to establishing a matriarchy in the Time of Queens and the other houses nearly rebelled. I doubt that the Council will be eager to tread that path again.”

“What if they are?” Tebeo asked.

“As I’ve indicated already, I don’t recognize the Council as the final authority on this matter.”

Brail stared at the man. “Are you saying you’d defy the other houses, that you’d risk a war?”

“I’m saying that I’ll do what I feel is necessary to preserve the Solkaran Supremacy. If the other houses dare to challenge me, they’ll be the ones starting a war.”

“Don’t take the other houses lightly, Lord Solkara,” Tebeo said. “Yours may be the most powerful house in Aneira, but if she stands alone, she’ll be crushed.”

Grigor smiled. “My lords, please. We’re getting ahead of ourselves. The Council has yet to meet, and I’ve done nothing but state my belief that I am the rightful heir to the throne.” He looked at Chofya, who still sat on the throne, looking too small for it. “I’ll consider your proposal, Your Highness. If the Council supports Kalyi’s claim to the throne, we can meet again to discuss the form such a regency might take.”

“That’s not good enough,” the queen said. “I want your word right now, in front of these men, that you’ll respect the will of the Council.”

Grigor stood, and after a moment, Henthas and Numar did as well.

I’m afraid I can’t make that promise,“ the duke said. ”Had he been in my position, your husband wouldn’t have either. But I don’t have to tell you that, do I, Chofya? You know it’s true.“ He glanced at his brothers. ”Let’s go, he said, starting toward the door. “This discussion is done.”

Henthas looked at Chofya and the dukes, a smirk on his lips, and then he followed. Numar offered a small bow to the queen.

“Your Highness,” he said, without a hint of irony, before leaving as well.

When Carden’s brothers had gone, closing the door behind them, Brail pushed himself out of his chair and began to pace, as Evanthya had seen him do so often.

“The impertinence of that man is galling,” he said. “I had my doubts about the regency before, Your Highness. But having seen what the kingdom would have to endure instead, I’m ready to do whatever I can to see that your daughter is made queen. I only wish you’d reconsider your choice of Grigor as regent.”

Tebeo let out a breath. “I have to agree, Your Highness. The man is set on being king. Giving your daughter over to him is far too dangerous. She won’t survive the first turn.”

“What about Numar?” Fetnalla asked, looking around the room and even allowing her gaze to alight briefly on Evanthya.

“He does seem a more reasonable man,” Tebeo said. “And not at all the dullard we’ve been led to believe he was.”

Chofya shook her head. “Grigor wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” Evanthya said. She felt all of them watching her, even Fetnalla, but she kept her gaze fixed on the queen and hoped that her voice would remain steady. “But why should we care what Grigor thinks? He’s willing to defy the Council, he treats you and all those around him with contempt, and he obviously cares for nothing but his own ambitions. He doesn’t deserve your concern.”

“He’s a powerful man, First Minister,” the queen said. “If we anger him, we risk war.”

“He’s intent on war already, Your Highness. If you truly wish to put your daughter on the throne, you’ll have to defeat Grigor first.”

“I’m afraid my first minister may be right,” Tebeo said. “In which case all turns on the Council. It’s not enough that you win the support of a majority of Aneira’s dukes. You need enough of them with you to defeat Grigor in battle.”