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11
TEIGRA
“Herald?” hissed Teigra, racing to close her bedroom door. She cursed her volume at the smallest twitch of recognition from Tulla, their family’s nosey old servant, out in the kitchen, shelling pea pods for dinner. “Aunt Sabina intends to nominate you as the new herald of Mestibes?”
“Shhh,” said Aurelius, pulling a well-used pillow over his face, blocking the afternoon light. Though her family’s house was above average for mercator society, it was far less grand than Aurelius’s apartment—lacking the expensive silks and fashionable gifts from his many admirers. “The more you read the appointment scroll, Tiggy, the harder it is to pretend it doesn’t exist.”
She ran her finger over the supple leather. “Her Most Serene Majesty, Sabina IV, Archon of Mestibes, wishes it be known that Aurelius Savair is to serve as her herald and official voice to Dynosia, to be posted firstly to the Kingdom of Ardora.”
Aurelius groaned from beneath the bundled straw.
“At least it isn’t Rinath?” she said.
“Does that make it better? Ardora is a shithole in a vegetable field, a million miles from anything resembling civilization.”
“Well, not a million. And I’ve read it’s very beautiful up there. Apparently, they get so much rain that the grass is green.”
“Oh, well let me pack my bags right now!”
“All right then, the people are also meant to be stunning. And it is also famous for its wine and its festivals and—”
“Tiggy, don’t you understand? Even if it was my lifelong dream to go up there, it would only be temporary. As herald, she could ship me off anywhere she damn well wanted, whenever she damn well wanted. One day Ardora, the next Rinath. Just like she did to Urosina.”
Teigra sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh... of course. And not even the five high cities, I suppose? She could send you to the mid towns and even the low villages as well?”
There was an uncomfortable pause. “Thank you, Tiggy. I hadn’t even thought about that! But yes. It could be a big city, or it could be some three-pig village. That’s the point: I would be entirely at her whim.”
Teigra furrowed her brow. “I thought you said Benedict would be chosen as herald? And that she would nominate you to fill his spot in the senate?”
“I know.”
“That would have made sense. Heralds are often future rulers. Aunty Sabina was herald to Grandfather Harophonies for just under a year, before she became archon, wasn’t she?”
“I know.”
“And Beni is still House Savair’s designated heir, isn’t he?”
Aurelius threw the pillow off and shot her a filthy look.
“Sorry,” she said, soothingly. “I am sure you will be amazing! Mestibes will be lucky to have you as herald.” His sullen silence at first confused and then shocked her. “Wait. You are intending to accept, aren’t you?”
He curled into a ball. “She hasn’t formally issued the parchment. That is just a draft. She has given me until tomorrow to decide.”
“Why the urgency?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know about any of it. The urgency? Why she has chosen me? What I should do? Yes, it would be a wonderful opportunity to make Beni furious: me getting to act in the archon’s name, rather than him? But what is the point of pissing him off if I won’t be here to see it?”
Teigra shuffled gingerly onto the bed, her back still stinging from the morning’s brutality. She ran her fingers along his arm. It wasn’t like him to be so uncertain. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d miss you terribly. Life would be a lot more boring without you.”
He sat upright. “Then come along!”
“What? How?”
“Dorina Mattic’s low envoy position! You’ve heard that she turned down an extension once her five year posting was up? Apparently, she has come back to find a husband. And the senate hasn’t voted on her replacement yet, have they?”
“I don’t think so, but—”
“Don’t you see, Tiggy? It is perfect! You would get to do all the envoy stuff with the senate, and I could do the mingle with nobility bit for the archon!”
