Page 101 of A Drop of Corruption

“Thankfully, the king aged out of such passions. And like any member of the king’s harem, his imperial wives have received every comfort. We are no brutes here.”

“That is a reassurance, sir,” I said. “But…some do die in childbirth, correct?”

I’d thought this would irritate him further, but Darhi merely shrugged. “Yes? It is a common threat. No pregnancy is without danger, especially for the royal Yarrow line.”

“Why is that?”

“Because so many give birth to twins, or triplets, or more. Did you not see it, Signum Kol? Look closer at our guards andnaukari,and you will find some faces repeat themselves.”

I paused, and summoned up a memory of Ana speaking to me:Did you know that the lyre duet is one of the ancient arts of Yarrow, Din? Yes. Some say it reflects the dominance of twins and triplets in the royal lineage here—a rather fascinating biological quirk. Led to someveryinteresting issues with inheritance, and many brothers killing brothers, sometimes at ages as young as six. Horrible shit, really!

I looked back at the satrap and saw him watching me with a calm look. He was quite accustomed to the sight of an engraver’s eyes fluttering, perhaps. Curious.

“Does the king have a twin, sir?” I asked.

“He did,” said the satrap with a shrug. “But the child died at a very young age. I myself am a sole survivor of three. Pavitar’s twin was born dead. So it goes.”

I paused, quietly horrified by his indifference to the death of so many young. Yet this new piece of information made me think.

“Are you related to the king, sir?” I asked.

He smiled, a rather chilly expression. “I am his second nephew. That is why I wear the green paints, you see.”

“Is that ever a point of conflict?”

“Mm. You imperials find it interesting to have so many of royal line living so close to the throne, yes? You have watched many dramas in your odeons, read many tales of prince killing prince, and king killing king, seeking power. But that is not how it is done here—or, not anymore.” He reached into his pocket and produced a small, wooden token hanging upon a leather loop: a bearded man’s face, scowlingand stoic, with a circlet upon his head. “This is my ancestor, King Yodhi di Lalaca eh Cautha, fourth of his name. I keep this with me, for we Yarrow labor under the watch of our ancestors. All we do must honor their name. Yet the king is ancestry manifest, and the king picks his inheritor.”

“And that is simply that?” I asked.

“It is. Did you see the silver circlet on the prince’s brow? And the silver chain about his neck?”

“I did, sir.”

“Those are the signifiers of the king’s chosen heir. The silvers go to him—andonlyto him, and we accept this. The children and relations of the king are mere tools to his ancestry. If the king asked us to throw down our lives, we would do so.” He stowed the little totem away. “That is the nature of the will of the king, and thus the will of Yarrow.”

Ana spoke up behind me: “I would like to know, sir, a bit more about your negotiations with the Treasury.”

“Oh? Certainly.”

“What is it you and Prificto Kardas discuss in these negotiations?”

“Do you not know this yourself?”

“IthinkI do,” said Ana. “But I would like to hear you confirm it.”

He blinked and shifted in his chair. I glanced at Malo and saw that her eyes had gone wide, like a cat stalking its prey in the night.

“Why, taxes, of course,” he said. “Who owns which lands, the revenue of each, how all of them shall be accorded management when the realm is adopted by the Empire. Is this truly not known to you?”

Malo gently tapped my thigh with her finger again: a lie.

“Of course, of course,” said Ana softly. “But thank you for confirming it.”

—

The door closedbehind Darhi. I looked to Malo, who sat with her head tilted toward the door and the hall beyond. Finally shenodded and said, “We may speak—but quietly. Guards remain, and they are not far.”

“Din,” said Ana softly. “Summon a memory for me, and quickly now!”