And they will pause just for an instant, and give a sigh to me, and think, "Poor girl!" believing they do great justice to my memory by this. But they will never, never realize that it was my single opportunity of existence, as well as of doing my duty, which they are regarding; they will not feel that what to them is but a thought, easily held in those two words of pity, "Poor girl!" was a whole life to me, as full of hours, minutes, and peculiar minutes, of hopes and dreads, smiles, whisperings, tears, as theirs: that it was my world, what is to them their world... -- Thomas Hardy, Desperate Remedies

Meanwhile, Nalginton's spies had made their way throughout Carann, searching for anyone willing to work for them in exchange for money. One of the people they found was Niuyínkir. She had never had many principles, and the offer of plenty of money in exchange for gathering information was too good to pass over.

At the same time Gialma found himself suddenly installed on the High Council much sooner than he had expected. The usual official ceremony was over much more quickly than usual, and the prince became one of his cousin's advisers before he had time to consider what events in Malish might mean for his future.

Then everyone fell into a sort of stalemate. Nalginton made no move beyond recruiting some new soldiers -- far too few for an invading army. Kilan made no move beyond recruiting far more soldiers. No one officially declared war. There were no battles. But there certainly wasn't much peace either.

Death watched all this in grim silence. She knew only too well what the ultimate outcome would be. Months passed and there was still officially peace between the two countries, but she saw the approaching war.

Slowly the people of the two empires began to let their guard down. There wasn't going to be an actual war, they told themselves. Everything would go back to normal.

If only.

~~~~

The last few months seemed like an unpleasant sort of dream. Kilan began to wonder if he was being paranoid. Maybe Malish would stay what it always had been: a not quite friendly but not openly hostile trading partner. Maybe it would be safe to tell the army there was no need to recruit quite so many people any more.

All the same, he put Nimetath in charge of reorganising the police force. She knew how to spot spies, and she could teach the police what to look out for.

Death was oddly quiet and sullen when she visited him or vise versa. Kilan tried not to read too much into that.

Then came the bombshell.

It wasn't a literal bombshell, thank goodness. But it was still an unpleasant shock. And of course Chief Counsellor Dilves was responsible.

She made her remark towards the end of a High Council meeting on how much money to grant a weapons factory. What she said was especially startling because it had nothing to do with the subject they were discussing.

"When will you and the Empress have a child, your Majesty?"

Dead silence fell in the council room. Kilan froze. As one everyone looked at her, then at him.

"Child?" Kilan repeated, feeling rather as if she'd punched the air out of his lungs.

The Chief Counsellor looked down her sharp, beak-like nose at him. "Yes, your Majesty." Really, how was it possible for someone to make a title of respect sound like the vilest curse? "You need an heir. That was the reason you got married at all."

No, the reason I married Qihadal is because you forced me into it, Kilan thought.

The counsellors were exchanging glances and whispers during this conversation. Some of them looked as if they wished they were a thousand miles away. He could understand their thoughts perfectly. He wished that himself. Oddly, the person who looked most sympathetic to him was Gialma. That was a puzzle. But it was one he couldn't solve now, with Dilves continuing her speech.

"You know as well as we do, your Majesty, that the emperor must have an heir or there will be a succession crisis. I'm sure you understand why that would be an uproar we don't need."

Kilan ground his teeth and thought of several things he wanted to say. "I fail to see how this is any of your business."

"It is my business as your adviser to ensure you cause as little drama as possible." Dilves was now all but openly glaring at him as she spoke through gritted teeth. "You are shirking your duties in this matter."

Oh, now they were really at war with each other.

"I hope I have never shirked my duty in anything," Kilan said in a tone so cold it practically made the temperature drop. "But this is a matter for my wife and I to decide ourselves, without anyone's interference."

Dilves smirked triumphantly. The sight sent a cold chill down Kilan's spine. She wouldn't look like that unless she knew something he didn't.

"Yet you and your wife have not discussed it. I spoke with her on this matter today. Imagine my surprise when I learnt that not only have you never mentioned having a child, you have never even consummated your marriage!"

Kilan felt the strong desire to wring her scrawny neck. He searched for something to say that would be highly insulting yet not obviously impolite. "I understand that someone of your advanced age feels they have the right to say everything they think, even if what they say is none of their business, but as your Emperor I order you not to pry into my private life."

There. He'd outright called her old, implied she was a loud-mouthed gossip, and accused her of invading his privacy. All of it was true, and at first glance none of it had been said rudely. Judging by the looks on their faces and their nods of agreement, none of the other Counsellors thought he had insulted her. But Dilves's furious scowl showed that she understood perfectly.

Kilan stood up. "This meeting is adjourned."

~~~~

Jalakanavu had known being Iquisaal would not be easy. She hadn't realised that her greatest enemy in some matters would be her husband's arrogance and bloodthirstiness.

"We cannot declare war yet," she said repeatedly. "We have not enough troops or weapons. We have not enough information. Tinuviel will expect an attack now."

Each time she succeeded in putting off Nalginton's longed-for war for a few more months. But she knew it would not work forever. His every thought was of destroying an empire he had been raised to see as his natural enemy.

She had hoped that if she had a child it would give her husband something else to focus his hopes and aspirations on. But she had been married over a year and still had not conceived. As the months went by, Nalginton began to lose interest in her and started looking for another wife or concubine. Jalakanavu's dreams were slowly slipping away.

Finally, when her husband announced he would soon choose his second wife, she paid a visit to a witch doctor who specialised in remedies for woman who had difficulty conceiving.

Being a witch doctor was one of the few professions women could pursue without being censured and denounced as unwomanly. It was a career chosen by many women who were too poor or unattractive to find husbands. Every witch doctor took an oath to never reveal anything they heard from their patients. So for many women, they were the only people who could be trusted.

"I believe you will be able to have children eventually," the witch doctor announced after examining Jalakanavu. "Try drinking kamuqir juice every morning. Many women say this has helped them conceive."

Jalakanavu thanked her and paid her fee. But she couldn't help thinking as she left that no amount of medicine or fruit juice would help if her husband lost interest in her.

~~~~

Kilan liked to think he was a reasonable, fairly even-tempered man. But Dilves, damn her, made him give serious thought to the pros and cons of assassination. There was no way he could avoid an awkward conversation with Qihadal now. His wretched Chief Counsellor had made sure of that.

I must look into how to remove a Chief Counsellor from their position, he thought as he slowly and reluctantly made his way toward Qihadal's rooms.

He found Qihadal grimly snipping withered leaves off a potted plant on her windowsill. She didn't look surprised -- or happy -- to see him.

"Chief Counsellor Dilves told me that she had a... discussion with you," Kilan began.

Qihadal snorted. "She asked me many questions I did not want to answer. But she said you had sent her."

Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse... "That was a lie. I knew nothing about any of this until she revealed it in front of the entire council."

His empress didn't answer. She kept aggressively snipping at the plant, cutting off good leaves as well as the withered ones. Kilan decided it would be best -- and least awkward -- to end this conversation now.

"I apologise for her conduct, and I assure you it won't happen again."

He turned to leave.

"But she was right," Qihadal said abruptly. "You only married me because you need an heir. I suppose your other wife can't give you one."

Kilan froze in the act of reaching for the doorknob. He ignored that remark about Death and instead focused on the first part of what she'd said. "Actually, I married you because your father and the High Council forced us into marriage."

"But you knew we would have to have a child."

Well, yes, he had known that. But he had also tried very hard not to think about it.

Qihadal gave the leaves a few more snips then placed the scissors on the table. "I have thought about this. If we were to divorce I would be alone in a foreign country with no surety of protection. If we adopted a child it would not be allowed to inherit. Therefore, I believe we have no option but to have a child of our own."

~~~~

"What's wrong with you?" Death asked when she next visited. "You look like all your friends have died."

Her attempt at a joke fell flat. An uncomfortable silence descended.

"Is Dilves going to die soon?" Kilan asked hopefully after a while.

No matter where Death was in the universe, she could conjure up a mental image of any hourglass she wished by thinking about it. She thought of the Chief Counsellor's hourglass, and immediately knew how much time Dilves had left. "Not any day soon, I'm afraid."

Kilan scowled. "I don't suppose you could... take her a year early or something?"

Death thought about this. "I could. And in exchange I would have to extend your lifespan. You remember the terms of our deal?"

"You took ten years of my life in exchange for Varan living another ten years," Kilan said. "So how would that work in this case?"

"If I was to take Dilves's soul tonight, I would have to give the years she still has remaining to the person who asked me to kill her -- namely, you." She thought about this some more. "Though in this case that would lead to a conflict with our already-existing deal. It would be a nightmare to sort out, and just the sort of mess Fate would delight in making worse. But what has Dilves done to make you want her dead?"

Kilan scowled, though not at her. "Do you want that list alphabetically or chronologically?"

Good point. "What has she done today, then?"

Half an hour and a loud, angry and occasionally incoherent rant later, Death wished she hadn't asked.

"Let me be sure I understood you," she said carefully. "Dilves is forcing the question of you and Qihadal having a child. You are utterly opposed to this idea, but Qihadal isn't. Therefore, you have agreed to at least try to have a child within a year. Is that right?"

"Reluctantly agreed," Kilan corrected her. "But yes, that's right."

Death searched for something to say that she hadn't already said in their previous discussions of this subject. "Why do you object specifically? Leave me out of this," she added quickly. "Pretend I don't exist, if you want. Just explain why you don't want to... er... have a child with Qihadal."

Kilan looked as if he was tempted to make a smart remark. "Because she must be traumatised after what she suffered, for one thing, and because I hardly know her, for another."

"I thought I heard that she was having counselling," Death said. She left out the detail that she had learnt this by overhearing one of these counselling sessions. "And as for reason two, it isn't difficult to get to know someone. Why don't you just talk to her?"

~~~~

The scene in the council room earlier today had made Gialma reconsider just how much of an honour it was to be put on the High Council. At first he had thought Chief Counsellor Dilves an intimidating woman. Now his opinion had shifted to "nosy bully who shouted things that were none of her business for everyone to hear".

The state of his cousin's marriage was no one's concern except Tinuviel's and Qihadal's. Gialma couldn't understand why Tinuviel hadn't punished Dilves more severely. Was he afraid of her?

But that led his thoughts back to why he was on the High Council at all. He now had a fine supply of gossip to share with Nalginton, but the thought of revealing anything of what he'd heard made him feel as bad as his treachery did. Was this all some ploy of Tinuviel's? Did he suspect Gialma? Did he want to see if Nalginton heard of anything that had happened today?

All these questions made the prince feel giddy. And worse, he had no answers.

Never let it be said, Gialma thought bitterly, that being a traitor is easy.