If I had the time, I'd detail how often you prefer dealing with illusions rather than the real thing. Problems you refuse to deal with don't exist! You deny reality! -- Alice: Madness Returns

Kilan's awakening early the next morning was nothing like his awakening on a certain other memorable occasion. He drifted out of sleep gradually. By the time he was fully awake, he had remembered all the events of the night before.

He waited for regret, or embarrassment, or any of the emotions he had felt last time. None of them came. He couldn't tell if that was a good thing or bad thing. He decided it wasn't important.

Death was still asleep beside him. She hadn't stolen the quilt this time, but not for want of trying. More than half of it was wrapped around her, leaving Kilan with very little of it. He tugged it out of her grasp and tried to get back to sleep. The sun wasn't up yet. It was far too early to be awake.

What felt like mere minutes later, Kilan woke again, this time to someone shaking him.

"Wassamatter?" he mumbled, slurring his words together.

"Your servants will be here soon," Death said. "I must leave now. And I advise you put some clothes on if you want to avoid awkward questions."

She was gone before Kilan could form a response to that sentence. He muttered a few uncomplimentary things about his servants, the trials of being Emperor, and personifications of concepts who disappeared without saying goodbye.

Now, where were his clothes?

~~~~

"Good morning, your Majesty." Really, was it possible for anyone to sound less sincere than Chief Counsellor Dilves did at that moment? "I trust you slept well."

Kilan bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something unwise. "I have made preparations for my visit to Istogu. I believe early next week would be the best time. And I have also decided to find a secretary."

"An excellent idea, your Majesty," the Chief Counsellor said, in a tone that made it sound like, 'How can anyone be as stupid as you?' "Shall I start looking for suitable candidates?"

"No need. I've already asked my sister Nadriet if she would like the job, and she's accepted."

Dilves looked as if she had just swallowed a lemon. "Very good, your Majesty."

Kilan had taken to keeping a mental scoreboard where he recorded the outcome of each clash between himself and the High Council. It currently read Kilan: 5 -- High Council: 3. He added another point to his score.

~~~~

Nadriet had been surprised when Kilan sent her a chenla-message asking her to be his secretary. After some consideration, she decided she might as well accept. Whatever else could be said for life in the royal court, it was unlikely to be dull.

She revised that idea when she arrived in Zasrodoth Palace to find her brother embroiled in a screaming match with his Council. Life in the royal court would definitely not be dull.

"What was that about?" she asked when the Council had been dismissed for the day.

Kilan gave a shaky laugh and ran a hand through his tangled hair. "A difference of opinion. They think I'm not going to Istogu without them, and I think I am. How is everyone?"

"Everyone's fine," Nadriet said. "Father told me to tell you it's high time you got married, and Mother said to warn you the High Council would want you to do whatever they want."

Kilan laughed again. There was a strange edge to his laugh that had never been there before. "I've found that out already. As for marrying, I'll do that when I want to, not when anyone else thinks I should."

~~~~

"How many letters do you get?" Nadriet asked in astonishment, surveying the piles of envelopes, both opened and unopened, with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"About a thousand every day. That's what it feels like, anyway." Kilan pressed his fingers against his forehead as if nursing a headache. That was a gesture he must have inherited from Arásy.

It looks like a thousand a day, too, Nadriet thought, eyeing all those letters.

Aloud, she said, "Well, I might as well get started. I'll need your help today, until I know which letters I can ignore, answer myself, or give to you."

~~~~

Nadriet was settling admirably into her new duties. Kilan hoped no great emergencies arose while he was in Istogu, but if any did she had assured him she would tell him at once. And so, in spite of the High Council's objections, Kilan set off for Istogu with only his bodyguards accompanying him.

No, wait. That wasn't quite true. Kilan set off for Istogu with his bodyguards accompanying him, Death visiting him, and Varan offering advice. Occasionally Ranoryin had a suggestion or two, but since Ranoryin seemed to have started some sort of post-mortem feud with Híaru, her suggestions were rarely helpful.

Kilan had had some vague idea that Istogu would be like Malish. He was wrong. It was a near-endless stretch of flat, grassy land, punctuated by the occasional hill. The air was chilly even when the sun was shining. Houses, animals, and anyone travelling along its roads could be seen for miles. That would have been worrying, if the same principle hadn't applied to anyone who might have been lying in wait. There was, quite simply, nowhere to hide for miles.

Chaldwari, the capital of Istogu, was built on the slopes of one of the few steep hills in the country. From a distance it was a mass of towers with strange, domed tops. As he drew nearer, it resolved itself into a city surrounded by a wall, with a wide, paved road leading up to its gates.

Inside the city were crowds of people waiting to get a glimpse of the Emperor. It occurred to Kilan that this might be the first time in a century that an Emperor of Carann had bothered to visit Istogu. With that in mind, were they really likely to want to remain part of the Empire?

~~~~

Princess Ixerthi was as much of a surprise as Istogu itself. She was a woman in her late seventies, with dark skin and hair that had once been black but was now grey. She greeted Kilan politely, but with less respect than the Emperor was usually shown.

"Why have you come, your Majesty?" she asked. She spoke with a curious accent, hesitating before some words and emphasizing syllables that were normally not emphasized. Kilan wondered if Carannish was her native language. "Has the rest of the Empire finally realised that we here in Istogu exist?"

Kilan didn't know how to reply to that. He decided to get straight to the point. "The Iqui of Malish wants me to give Istogu back to him." Princess Ixerthi went eerily still. She kept her eyes fixed on his face. He had an uncomfortable feeling that he was being tested on something, but he didn't know what. "I thought it would be unfair to make a decision of such importance without consulting you. Do your people want to be part of Malish, or not?"

A strangely bitter look crossed the Princess's face. "And what if you don't like our answer, Emperor Tinuviel? Will you disregard it?"

That was a question he honestly did not know the answer to. What would he do if Istogu wanted to be part of Malish? He didn't know. But he knew the answer he should give, and so he gave it.

"There would be no point in asking for your opinion then ignoring it. I would abide by your decision."

He prayed he would be able to keep that promise.

The Princess raised her eyebrows and gave him a disbelieving look. "An Emperor who would listen to his people? I find that hard to believe. What if I told you Istogu wants independence? From both Carann and Malish?"

Kilan's first reaction was relief. If he had given Istogu to the Iqui, there would have been an uproar. If he had refused to give it, there might have been a war. But if it chose to be independent, both outcomes could be avoided.

"I would grant you independence, if that is what you want."

"Really. What if I told you that we petitioned Emperor Vretiel for independence repeatedly, and he pretended to consider our request before refusing it? And that he then punished us by raising the taxes?"

Just when he thought he knew every wrong his uncle had done...

"I didn't know that. And I would like to remind you that I had nothing to do with it."

She scoffed. "He was your uncle, wasn't he? So of course you support his ideas. You Caranilnavs are all the same."

"I don't support anything he did!" Kilan snapped, his temper fraying. "And aren't you a Caranilnav yourself?"

The moment the words were out of his mouth he knew they were the wrong thing to say. Princess Ixerthi recoiled as if he had slapped her. Her face contorted into a mask of rage.

"You speak of things about which you know nothing," she spat. "Me, a Caranilnav? So my people say, and they want someone with purer Istogish ancestry. The Caranilnavs, on the other hand, look at the colour of my skin -- see how different I look to you! -- and sneer at me. 'Half-breed', they call me. 'Moon-eyed', they say, because my eyes are not slanted like yours. 'Darkie', your uncle called me to my face, because I look more like my subjects than my relatives. An embarrassment, a blotch on the family tree. I share too much blood with you for my people's liking, and not enough for yours."

"Please don't accuse me of sins I haven't committed," Kilan said coldly. This situation was spiralling out of control, but he'd be damned if he let her have the final word. "I have never given you any insult or considered you anything but the ruler of a province, a ruler who happens to be a distant cousin of mine whatever your other ancestry may be. I came here to ask you what your people want, not to fight with you. If your people want independence, I will grant it. And now, I will leave you for today, before this conversation becomes any more unpleasant."

He swept out of the room with all the dignity he could manage. It still felt uncomfortably like he was running away.