The Morrigan fills an empty throne
The Morrigan builds with flesh and bone
-- Heather Dale, The Morrigan

Rumours fly more quickly than the truth. The sun had barely risen before gossips were chattering all over the Empire. Few people like anything better than to talk over someone else's misdeeds, and Carann's many gossips had not had so much entertainment since the scandal about Emperor Marin.

Indeed, it was already being whispered that this sounded like a milder version of Marin's crimes. After all, hadn't his first crime been fathering a child out of wedlock and attempting to escape the consequences?

"At least Emperor Tinuviel did the honourable thing and married the girl," a noblewoman told her husband over their breakfast.

"There's something wrong in that branch of the family," a newspaper boy said to one of his friends as he set off on his rounds. "That's two scandals in under five years! We didn't have a single scandal in ten years while Vretiel was Emperor."

Death, passing by on her way to collect a soul at a hospital, overheard this and almost burst out laughing. If only that stupid boy knew... Perhaps she should visit Kilan as soon as she collected this soul. Or perhaps later. She had rather a lot to do today.

~~~~

Chief Counsellor Dilves could count on one hand the number of times she had been so utterly dumbfounded. What made her shock worse was the certainty that none of this was true.

She threw down the newspaper and stormed out of the dining room. "Caiglar! Fetch my coat!"

Her maid hurried to do as she was ordered. Dilves snatched the coat out of her hands and stalked through the front door.

Emperor Tinuviel would just have to explain himself to her.

~~~~

The atmosphere at breakfast in the royal palace was decidedly tense and awkward. Kilan moodily pushed his olrit around his plate with his spoon. Qihadal munched her way stolidly through a slice of bread, with as much enjoyment as if it had been cardboard. Nadriet poured herself another cup of tea, completely forgetting that she hadn't finished her first cup yet. Arásy and Særnor made no attempt to eat at all, and were instead scanning through a collection of the morning newspapers. Their grim expressions told Kilan all he needed to know about what was being said of him.

Outside, the bells of the city chimed nine o'clock.

Hurried footsteps sounded in the hall outside. Kilan suppressed a groan. What now?

The door opened and a servant slipped in. He bowed to the assembled royals, looking scared out of his wits. "Your Majesty... Chief Counsellor Dilves wishes to speak with you on a matter of urgency."

This time Kilan couldn't suppress his groan. Neither could his parents. Nadriet, who had encountered Dilves enough times to know what this was likely to mean, angrily poured herself more tea with an air that suggested she wanted to throw the teapot at the Chief Counsellor. Only Qihadal remained unaffected by this news, but she had no idea as yet that she should dread the High Council, and she had only a vague idea who Dilves was.

"Show her in," Kilan said morosely, as if signing his own death warrant.

The servant bowed and left the room. Minutes later the Chief Counsellor burst into the room. Her coat was only half-buttoned up, her greying hair was a flyaway mess, and her face was an extraordinary shade of purple.

Kilan took one look at her and felt a strong urge to jump out the window.

"Your Majesty!" Dilves exploded almost before she finished bowing. "What nonsense is this?! The entire High Council knows perfectly well that you saw your wife exactly twice before the wedding, and you were chaperoned both times!"

Where does she get her information? Kilan wondered. The High Council had nothing to do with my second meeting with Qihadal. That thought was quickly followed by, At least she doesn't know who chaperoned me the second time.

"Chief Counsellor," Arásy interrupted in an icy tone. "Show your Emperor the respect he deserves. It is not your place to question anything he says or does."

Dilves glared at her. But for once she was wise enough to keep her thoughts to herself.

"Your Majesty," Dilves continued in a tone almost as icy as Arásy's, "you have dragged your reputation through the dirt with a claim that we know is untrue. The High Council has a right to know why." Her beady eyes narrowed. "I believe I can explain this. That woman--" She jabbed a bony finger in Qihadal's direction "--was pregnant when she accepted your proposal, and you are attempting to disguise her guilt."

Kilan's patience snapped. The High Council had been nothing but a nuisance for over a year, and he had finally had enough.

"I wish to speak with the Chief Counsellor alone," he said quietly. There was something in his voice that made his father look at him in alarm. "Please, everyone, leave us alone for five minutes."

He stood frozen in place as his family left. Dilves finally seemed to realise that she was treading on thin ice here. She looked at him nervously as the door closed behind Qihadal.

"Now, Chief Counsellor," Kilan said, making her title sound like a swearword, "it seems that you are labouring under a delusion. Let me correct you. The High Council does not have any say in what I do. Whatever their opinions are of my actions, they can keep them to themselves. If you ever speak to me with such disrespect again, I will have you stripped of your title and your lands."

Dilves flinched. Her eyes widened and she shook with barely-suppressed rage. "Your Majesty, you are beginning to act like a tyrant."

"So be it, if that's what it takes to shut up you and your ilk." Kilan was surprised to find how sincerely he meant those words. "You can believe whatever you like of my motives or the facts of this case, but if you say a word that could be considered libellous, heaven help you."

~~~~

Dilves was not the last person to offer their opinion on what was really happening in the royal family. Aristocrats who Kilan had never known existed until today let him know what they thought of all this. Comparatively few people actually believed the official story.

Some of their theories were so wildly off the mark that they were hilarious -- the Count of Tozan believed that Qihadal had brainwashed the Emperor into doing her bidding for some unclear but certainly nefarious reason. Other theories were like Dilves's -- close enough to the truth to make Kilan wonder how soon the truth would be discovered.

That day was one of the longest Kilan had ever suffered through. On all sides he was surrounded by whispers and gossip. The weight of his people's disapproval weighed on him until he felt like it might smother him. He wanted to scream, to tell them the truth, to order the Iqui's assassination, do anything that would stop the gossip.

Again he found himself fleeing for respite to the empty wings of the palace.

Instead of ending up in the abandoned ballroom again, Kilan wandered aimlessly down long, empty hallways he had never seen before. Curiously he peeked into a few of the rooms that lined it. They were all either bedrooms or sitting rooms, with the exception of the last room on the hall.

When he first opened the door he thought he was looking at a miniature hospital. There was a sink opposite the door, and a hospital bed placed in the corner. Littering the floor were rusted scraps of what might have once been surgical instruments.

There was nothing unusual in itself about a royal palace having a makeshift hospital. The palace still had one, in fact; a much more up-to-date and well-frequented place than this, where palace residents went if they fell down a flight of steps or burnt their hand on a stove. It also wasn't that unusual that it had been abandoned, since obviously no one live in this wing anymore and there was no point in having to transport injured people to an otherwise-empty part of the palace. What was unusual was that this hospital had apparently only been meant for one person, since there was only one bed.

Kilan stepped cautiously into the room. Once he was inside, he saw another door off to the side, leading into a smaller room that appeared to be a bathroom. If there had been any documents left lying around, he could make a reasonable guess at when the hospital had last been used. But there was nothing of the sort. They had long rotted away, if they had ever been there at all.

He left and continued further down the hallway. It branched into two, one going left and one going right. Neither looked as if it led anywhere particularly interesting; they were both dusty and full of cobwebs.

Kilan turned right and looked into the first room he came to. It had been someone's office, once upon a time, as evidenced by the filing cabinet and the desk. Perhaps some long-dead diplomat had been stationed there. Or maybe a visiting nobleman had read his correspondence there. Whoever it had belonged to, the floor was now covered with an inch of dust.

A distant chiming of bells recalled Kilan to the present. Seven o'clock? He was supposed to be at dinner!

He spun round.

And came face to face with Death.

~~~~

"How was I to know that you'd turn round immediately after I arrived?" Death said after Kilan stopped hyper-ventilating. "I was about to speak to you, but you didn't give me a chance."

Kilan glared at her. "Stop appearing behind me, then! You'll scare years off my life."

Death raised an eyebrow. "You do remember who you're talking to, don't you?"

"Yes, but you don't want me dead yet," Kilan pointed out. "So there's no reason to keep scaring me like that."

Death shrugged. "All right then, I'll take care that you know when I arrive. Now what are you doing here? Hiding?"

"More or less." The stress of the last few hours came rushing back to him. "I don't know which is worse: that people don't believe me, or that they do believe me. The entire Empire's gossiping about it!"

"You knew that would happen before you agreed to this lie," Death said quietly, reaching out and taking one of his hands in both of hers. She idly stroked her thumb over the back of his hand as she continued, "Gossip dies down eventually. This will all be forgotten sooner than you'd think."

The brush of her skin against his made Kilan shiver with something that was neither cold nor fear. He carefully refused to think about that. "Knowing it will end soon doesn't make it easier to bear while it lasts. And even when it does end, we still need to find Qihadal's rapist and force him to confess."

Death hadn't taken her eyes from his face throughout this conversation. Kilan tried to return her gaze, but for some reason he couldn't stop himself from constantly glancing away. His face was strangely warm despite the draft that whistled through this part of the palace. His heart pounded in his ears, and his mouth had gone oddly dry. But he didn't take his hand out of Death's.

"I can do something about that," she said thoughtfully.

It took Kilan a minute to remember what she was referring to. "You mean you know who--"

"Yes, and I can find him for you. And bring him to you." Death stopped. Something almost like confusion flitted across her face. "It would be taking a liberty with my duties -- I'm not supposed to interfere so directly with the mortal world -- but I would do that for you."

Slowly, hesitantly, Kilan raised his other hand and placed it on top of hers. "Give it a week for things to calm down, and then could you bring him to the palace? I'll have to tell Qihadal first, so it won't give her too much of a shock, but... Thank you."

Death smiled wryly. "Don't mention it. Really, don't, especially not where any of my Reapers can hear. They'll never let me forget it if they know."

~~~~

There were many people whose destinies interested Fate. She wove the futures of the entire universe, yet there were some among that vast number who fascinated Her more than the others. The entire Caranilnav clan had caught Her eye as surely as they had caught Death's. So it was understandable that She wove Death and the Caranilnavs so closely together. What might be less understandable to a random onlooker was why She had decided Kilan would be so important.

No one, not even Death, knew why Fate made the decisions She did. But She made each of them for a reason, and She had chosen Kilan because he was best suited to the role She planned for him.

The Land of the Dead had been without a King for too long. It was time Death found an equal. And since she wasn't inclined to go looking for one...

Well. It was up to Fate to chose one for her, then.