Princess Helspeth, Grafina fon Supfer, Marquesa va Runjan, Contessa di Plemenza, and so forth, thought she had herself under control. She had known it would come. She had had time to become intimate with the truth during the bone-breaking rush from Plemenza to Hochwasser, where Lothar had been gathering a small army for a limited campaign in northern Firaldia. But seeing Mushin in a coffin, in a room lined with blocks of ice, took it out of the realm of the intellectual, into that of the intimately painful and real.

She threw herself onto the boy's pale, still form. Mushin was so cold. And so much smaller than he was inside her memory.

She lost control.

A hand squeezed her shoulder. She looked up. Katrin stood over her. Katrin's eyes were red and hollow. The pain had razor-slashed her soul.

The sisters fell into one another's arms. They wept together under the scowls of Katrin's women and several of the Empire's leading men. The majority and most powerful of the Council Advisory, however, had not yet arrived. They seemed in no hurry to present themselves for Emperor Lothar's final ritual obligation to the Grail Empire.

Helspeth pulled herself together before Katrin did. To the surprise of the younger sister, Katrin was the one they called the ice maiden. Katrin was the one who concealed everything happening inside. But Katrin was the one who had focused all her strained and stilted emotion on her beloved Mushin.

Katrin said, "My world has ended, Helspeth."

Helspeth wondered why Katrin had no pet name for her.

"This is worse than when Papa died. Though we've always known that it would happen."

"Father was hard to live with," Helspeth said. Parroting Katrin explaining her lack of distress after Johannes's fall at al-Khazen. Helspeth was too rattled to engage her own wit. "Who are those men?" She indicated three priests who seemed intent on remaining unnoticed.

"Father Volker. My confessor. I don't know the other two. Father introduced me but I was too distracted to remember. One of them is a bishop. He's going to preside at the funeral and my first vows."

"Oh."

"I don't want to be Empress, Helspeth. I don't want to deal with Omro va Still-Patter and all those coldhearted vultures. Help me, Helspeth."

"Always, dear sister. I am your most faithful and devoted subject. Whatever you ask of me, I'll do it. Just tell me."

A flicker of cold suspicion crossed Katrin's features.

Katrin Ege assumed the Imperial honors the day following Helspeth's arrival at Hochwasser. She did so in the absence of the Council Advisory, with the blessing of Bishop Hrobjart of Carbon. The Bishop administered a preliminary oath in the interest of state continuity. The official coronation was set for late summer, during the Feast of Kramas. The Feast was an ancient celebration, the reasons for which were lost in time. Grail Emperors were elevated officially on that date. They had been since the New Brothen Empire was imagined by the Patriarch Pacific II. Some who indulged an interest in matters historical believed Kramas commemorated a victory by tribesmen over invading Old Brothen legions. The Battle of Carmue, in Brothen history, had had an impact so great that the emperors never again tried to conquer the heart of the continent.

There were arguments. Those of the Council Advisory already on hand insisted on delays. The full Council was needed.

Unsaid, but understood, was that the full Council had less trouble bullying Katrin.

Helspeth was careful to say nothing negative about those ugly old men.

Privately, Algres Drear suggested, "If you want the Empress to know anything special you'd better deliver the message before Hilandle shows. Once he does Katrin will be hard to reach. He'll make sure access to the Empress is strictly managed."

Helspeth was impressed. That was the most the man had said since Lothar placed her under his protection. His advice was sound, too. "Captain, I need you more than ever. How do I assure your loyalty?"

"My loyalty is assured, Princess. It was the will of the emperors, your father and your brother. Only death can separate us. I'll be closer to you than I am to my wife."

Literally. Drear's wife refused to travel to Plemenza.

"I wasn't made for this, Algres."

"No one is till it's thrust upon them."

"But…"

"You are the daughter of Johannes Ege and Terezia of Nietzchau."

Helspeth wanted to argue but was too tired and too depressed. She hated her life. And it was unlikely to get better. Even Plemenza was losing its charm.

"I'm not sure that will be sufficient."

Drear turned grim. "You have enough on your mind. Get some rest. But see your sister as soon as you can."

Katrin did not answer Helspeth's message. She had gone into seclusion with her confessor and the other churchmen.

Ferris Renfrow arrived before the Grand Duke, in time for the interment and a hasty succession ceremony performed by Bishop Hrobjart. Just materializing behind Helspeth's left shoulder. She knew he was there without looking. The overcast began to clear from her emotional skies. The slump went out of her shoulders.

She felt guilty.

Algres Drear was supposed to make her feel this way. That was his mission. She could not manage without Captain Drear and his Braunsknechts, but he never inspired her the way Renfrow did.

Sad, too, because Ferris Renfrow's first loyalty was always the Grail Empire, not the sad second daughter of its penultimate Emperor.

Katrin sank to her knees before Bishop Hrobjart. After a murmured exchange, Hrobjart turned to his left and accepted a coronet from the nameless churchman who accompanied him everywhere. Father Volker swung a censor with one hand and sprinkled holy water with the other.

All three priests wore white. Father Volker's robes were simple. The unknown priest's were austere. Bishop Hrobjart's, though, had lace, uncut gems, and seed pearls all over it. The last time Helspeth saw priests in white was at Lothar's coronation. Normally, they wore gray or brown. Or black.

Helspeth loathed the new crows in black. They served the harsh orders: the Patriarchal Society for the Suppression of Sacrilege and Heresy; the Brotherhood of War; the Knights of the Grail Order. And the former two grew more powerful by the day across the Jagos.

Grail Empire disdain kept the Society and Brotherhood from developing much power north of the Jagos. But the Grail Order – a sort of northern Brotherhood – was immensely influential where the Episcopal faith collided with the pagan world.

Ferris Renfrow summoned her from her reverie. Time for the witnesses to take a knee before the new Empress. Then both knees while the Bishop of Carbon invoked the blessing. A long responsorial followed. She did not need to pay attention to keep up. It was standard back and forth in Church Brothen. A five-year-old could keep up and have attention left over for mischief.

AS THEY LEFT THE CHURCH, RENFROW SAID, "YOU MAY face dramatic challenges on your return to Plemenza, Princess." He seemed not to care if someone overheard. The Patriarch is sure to test the new order."

"Sublime will find the Ege daughters no less formidable than their father." She thought of the Captain-General. Their paths might not cross again.

"That is fondly to be hoped," Renfrow said. "Unfortunately, the reality may not be so promising."

"Meaning?"

Renfrow glanced at Algres Drear. As always on public and ceremonial occasions, Drear was within arm's reach of Helspeth. 'Time will tell, Princess. I have to leave. Take care of her, Captain."

In an eye's blink Renfrow vanished. Look away, look back, the man was gone. "How does he do that?" Helspeth asked.