Read Online The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison - Free Book Online

“Serenity, there is one other matter.”
    “There is?”
    “We do not like to bring it up, but we cannot…”
    Back straight, hands folded in lap, face controlled. “Tell us,” Maia said.
    “It is the letter from Dach’osmer Tethimar that made us think of it,” Csevet said. “Serenity, you must begin to consider your own marriage.”
    “ Marriage? But I’m not even emperor yet! I mean—” And then he realized he had broken formality into seventy embarrassing pieces and bit his tongue.
    “It will be the first thing on the minds of many of the court,” Csevet said.
    “All of those with marriageable daughters,” Beshelar put in cynically.
    “But we don’t wish to marry anyone,” Maia protested, and at least it was the correct level of formality, even if the tone was perilously near whining.
    “You will have to sooner or later, unless you intend to let Idra Drazhar succeed you, which we would not recommend.”
    “Know you something to the discredit of our nephew?”
    “How could we? He is a child still. We were thinking, Serenity, of the example of Belmaliven the Fifth.”
    Maia took his point. Belmaliven V, coming to the throne after the sudden death of his brother Belmaliven IV, had felt the succession amply secured by his two nephews, so he had not divorced his beloved but barren wife. In the second year of his reign, he was deposed and murdered by “supporters” of his elder nephew, who was crowned as Belvesena XI and survived as a sickly puppet for six years before he in turn was ousted by his brother, Belmaliven VI. The exact manner and date of Belvesena’s death were not known, but it was generally assumed that he had not long survived his brother’s coronation and that his death had not been an accident.
    “You think it necessary for us to move this quickly?” Maia asked unhappily.
    “Serenity,” said Csevet, “we think that you should be prepared for the matter to arise. And we think that you should be well enough informed to make a decision, rather than being pushed into marriage as the late emperor was on more than one occasion.”
    Maia winced.
    Csevet’s eyes widened. “Serenity, we beg your pardon. We did not mean—”
    “No, we understand. And you are perfectly correct.” Panic was back, knocking against his ribs, tightening clammy fingers around his throat. He swallowed hard. “How would you suggest we proceed?”
    “Let us gather information for you,” Csevet said. “That is, if you will trust us to do so?”
    I must trust someone, Maia thought. “Yes, please.”
    “We will see to it.”
    The headache was getting worse; Maia was cravenly grateful that one of Esaran’s underlings appeared at that moment to announce dinner, before Csevet could come up with another “one other matter.”
    Csevet excused himself gracefully, sparing Maia the necessity of determining how many people Esaran had told the kitchen master to prepare for. The emperor ate in solitary splendor, with his nohecharei again seated one to either side of the dining room door.
    Egg-and-broth soup, an eel casserole, seared colewort: Maia ate without tasting any of it, from some unknown reserve dredging up a smile for the timid server—another one with goblin blood—and praise to be relayed to the kitchen master and chefs. Dessert was a sorbet; it tasted like winter, and Maia only wished he could transfer the blissful cold to his throbbing temples. The server presented him with a cordial before he could tell her not to, and after the first sip, he said abruptly to his nohecharei, “When will you eat?”
    “Serenity?” said Beshelar, startled. Cala seemed to focus his eyes as if from a very great distance away.
    “You must eat,” Maia said. “When?”
    “When you are in bed, Serenity,” Cala said. “We will trade off, one to guard while the other eats. You must not worry about us.”
    “Could you not—after tonight—eat with us?”
    Beshelar’s expression was, predictably, scandalized. Cala