Euphastolon had left Dardano the day prior. Surprisingly, Theodorian had chosen to go with him, to represent the Doukar in the royal wedding. Cordelian had given him some advice and tasks to carry out for him once he arrived in Hagiatrocos, so he could at least make use of his exile.
Cordelian decided he should do something about his self-righteous younger sister who had driven his useful stooge away. True, he had been intending to sideline Euphastolon, but he didn't like to have the man out from under his eye. More importantly, this wasn't his choice. Meronion should not be deciding anything for him, and he wanted to put her in her place. Fortunately, a patros friend had reminded him of an interesting fact that would help. The best part was Meronion wouldn't be able to fight back, as it would play into her sense of duty.
Today’s Kolonai meeting proceeded as usual, with various humdrum matters being brought up for discussion. Naturally Fornulus was not present. He hadn't attended in months. Near the end, Meronion raised some issues around Euphastolon's marriage, just trivial details about the gifts and the like. Cordelian graciously agreed to her suggestions, to make it all the harder for her to refuse his. Once she had finished, he took over the conversation.
"As you've sagely noted Milem, the mourning period for the Empress and her children draws to a close. It is therefore an appropriate time to consider royal matches. I'm glad you raised this issue, for I too have been considering the issue, given recent events."
The eyes of the various council members around the table looked at him, all trying to figure out what he was thinking.
"His Exaltedness won’t consider remarriage yet," Meronion said.
"Indeed not, and I wouldn't presume to suggest marriage for His Exaltedness." He waited a few moments to raise their interest. In another life, he could have been a poet. It wouldn't have been unpleasant.
"None of my other royal siblings are currently married,” he said. “This is a situation we should remedy, as you so wisely noted Milem. Therefore, I humbly make two suggestions. Firstly, I announce an invitation for marriage offers...for myself."
There was gasps and immediate hushed conversations. He could already see the beginnings of the patros jostling for the opportunity to bring the second most powerful person in the empire into their families. Many of them had been thinking about his marriage for years. Some of them even decided to proposition him right and then – one woman was so bold as to put herself forward. It took him a while to calm them all and promise to consider all their offers fairly. He said they should consider and produce their offers once the mourning period was officially over. He ordered the Majester of Lineage to draw up an official proclamation to be publicly distributed to all the provinces of the empire.
This was all an act. He had raised his marriage solely to head off Meronion's objections to his next proposal, which was his real aim today.
Cordelian had no interest in getting married yet; he’d already been ignoring his own family’s unsubtle innuendos about it for the last five years. Once he had gained the crowns, he would have to marry at least one woman to produce an heir, but he could easily delay the matter until his succession. He'd be able to bargain from a superior position once he was the Doukar, and achieve even more favorable marriage offers. The one thing he wouldn't countenance was selling himself off cheap. His father had often complained about marrying too early and thus not aiming high enough. Fornulus’ mother was from a fine enough family, of course, but compared to his own mother, the woman was basically a parveneu, with a lineage barely three hundred years old.
"By waiting until the end of the mourning period you will all have equal time to determine what is best for the empire and your own families, and I can give all of you the attention you deserve," he said. "It wouldn't be fair to those not present to make any decisions at the moment."
Meronion was clearly surprised by this turn of events. Good. He wanted to catch her off guard.
"Secondly," he said as he turned to his second suggestion, forgotten in the excitement. "I propose that we should also consider marriage offers for Princess Ophelion. As the members of the Kolonai may recall, we received a significant proposal for the Princess some time ago."
The Majester of Lineage stood up at his gesture and began to pontificate in the way only a bureaucrat could. "It is my honor to remind this most esteemed chamber that His Eminence the Wanax of Amott expressed interest in marrying into the imperial family and tendered an official offer to welcome the Imperial Third Princess Ophelion into his court."
The Wanax had made his offer a couple of months before Holophian's death. Amott was a powerful Circiniad principality, and one of the few with decent relations with the Empire.
"I must note that Circiniad culture requires brides to be virgins," the Majester added, unbidden.
Cordelian had to quickly repress a scowl at the old idiot for adding that last part. He'd have to teach the old man a lesson in decorum: it wasn't his place to have any thoughts whatsoever about royalty. Fortunately, the members of the Kolonai weren't familiar with Circiniad culture.
"A what?" The decrepit looking Majester of Taxes asked.
"A virgin." One of Meronion's generals replied in a gravelly voice. "A woman who hasn't been married before."
"No, it's a woman without children I think," another chimed in.
"The point is," Cordelian cut this uncouth discussion off before the Majester could open his big mouth again, "the empire has received a tempting offer for the Princess."
Cordelian knew Ophelion was not a virgin in the Circiniad sense. A Dardanian who made it into their twenties without having had any lovers was thought to be dull and undesirable. The Wanax didn't know any better, and Cordelian doubted the man even cared. He must be pragmatic for a Circiniad, otherwise he wouldn't have suggested such a match to begin with. As long as the princess chosen hadn't previously been married or had children, the man's honor would be satisfied. Which meant Theodorian and Meronion were both out of the picture. It would have been convenient to ship Meronion off.
Meronion had been quiet so far. He glanced over to see her frowning, clearly unable to think of a counterargument immediately.
He continued. "We had to suspend negotiations while we were mourning His Exaltedness, our father, and now the Empress and Mekos and prince and princess, but soon it will be appropriate for us to continue them. The Wanax is aware of this, and has recently sent word renewing his offer. He still desires the match. So, we should consider what our answer will be to the Wanax."
Cordelian nodded towards the Majester of Lineage again, prompting the man to slowly get up and do his duty. "It is my honor to further remind this most esteemed chamber that His Exaltedness Doukar Holophian found the offer favorable before his tragic death," the old Majester said in a wheezing voice and gratefully sat down again.
Meronion leant forward at this. "I was not aware of our father's plans."
Cordelian smiled. "The negotiations were in an early stage. His Exaltedness did not think it needed to be public knowledge yet. The Majester can confirm the stage the negotiations had reached."
The Majester stood yet again with a stifled groan and proceeded to bore them with various formal minutiae about the negotiations. Cordelian would have the old fool stand up and down until he died of exhaustion for trying to undermine him. Meronion would find nothing contrary to what Cordelian had said. He’d told the truth.
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"How old is this man?" Meronion asked.
The Majester replied. "The Wanax is 45 or 46, Most Puissant Milem."
"Not too bad," one of Cordelian's allies said. "Not an old man anyway."
"Young enough not to be ugly, but old enough to do us a favor and die off soon, leaving his kingdom to us." Another patros laughed cruelly.
"Ophelion won't like it," Meronion muttered, but without much force. It was hardly an unusual age gap in political marriages.
"Amott is the major power in the western Circiniad territory," one of her generals said. "If our princess becomes their queen, we’ll be able to project power over the surrounding petty wanaxes and secure a large stretch of the border."
Cordelian was so pleased that even Meronion's own followers were supporting his plan that he decided not to correct the man's terminology. Ophelion would be a "wanassa", not a queen. Best not to let the small things bother him.
Meronion had a pained look on her face. Cordelian knew she cared a great deal for Ophelion and wouldn't want to send her thousands of miles away. This match could mean they'd never see each other again; a poignant lesson in what happened to those who displeased him. She turned to look to the Decim sitting next to her as if she thought he would raise an objection, but Pelagius had been silent throughout the whole conversation. The youngest prince usually said very little during their meetings, which was the way Cordelian liked it.
"Amott constitutes about a hundred leagues or so of the border between Imperial and Circiniad territory, doesn't it?" Pelagius asked.
Cordelian smiled. "Indeed. It would secure a great deal of our border if we could forge an alliance with the Wanax. It would create a buffer state between us and the more hostile Wanaxes."
One of the diplomats added, "once her Highness has produced heirs and the current Wanax is dead, we could effectively turn Amott into a vassal state, or even absorb it entirely if we wanted." Better to keep it as a vassal state in Cordelian's opinion. Cheaper.
Pelagius leaned over to speak quietly in Meronion's ear, but Cordelian could just about make out what he said. "I don't like sending her away, but we knew this would happen eventually."
Meronion nodded and announced her approval. It impressed Cordelian how quickly she accepted the inevitable. The rest of the discussion concerned mere formalities, nothing substantive.
"I will inform Ophelion myself," Meronion said.
"There's no need at the moment," Cordelian said. "We can wait until the negotiations-"
"I will tell her." Meronion cut him off. "She deserves to know and make her preparations. She may not return to Dardano for years, if ever."
"As you wish," Cordelian demurred.
Meronion was taking it disappointingly well. He should have known it would take more than this to shake her composure. Regardless, it hurt her, he knew, which was what he wanted. The glare she gave him made it clear she understood his intention full well.
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A servant told Meronion that Ophelion was with Helastus in her apartments, so she headed there after the meeting. She knew what Cordelian was doing: punishing her for sending Euphastolon away. She didn't want to send Ophelion away, and she knew how Ophelion would react. But regardless of his motives, it was the right move for the empire. She was not looking forward to telling her little sister, but she wanted to get it over with. Pull the arrow out in one smooth motion.
Pelagius made some excuse and scuttled off. The coward wanted to dodge this discussion, even after backing the proposal. He was soft-hearted when it came to his sisters.
At the doors to Helastus’s chambers, she turned to Khristos.
"Best for you to wait outside. This won't be pretty." The woman nodded in relief. Lomberd was unconcerned, as always, as he followed her in.
Her sisters were sitting on divans in their casual robes, engrossed in some trivial conversation or other. Ophelion waved at her without getting up, much too informally.
"Hello sister."
She noted with approval that Helastus was much more proper in her greeting, getting up and giving her an informal bow as was appropriate, which she returned. Helastus was still only fifteen, but Meronion was hopeful about the girl's potential. She didn't seem likely to follow Euphastolon or Ophelion into idleness, but instead shared her full brother's ambition.
Most people thought Pelagius was content living in luxury with no position, like Theodorian. Meronion could see through him clearly. The boy had no thought of letting his role of Decim stay purely honorary. He planned to make the most of it, which was why she'd allowed his promotion. It might have been Cordelian's reason for suggesting Pelagius too. Neither of them minded losing the extra power the duties of the Decim could offer, provided the other didn't get it for themselves. Pelagius wasn't going to sit on his backside. Good for him. The empire had always rewarded ambition and talent, and she'd already heard Pelagius was making every effort to properly supply the border guards and police the provinces. He'd be good for the empire.
Her mind was wandering, due to her discomfort with the upcoming conversation. No more of that: she was not one to run from any fight.
"Ophelion, I have something important to tell you," she said.
Ophelion could tell this was more than a usual lecture about some small failing. She got up slowly from the couch.
"What is it?"
"Should I go?" Helastus asked, offering to leave her own rooms.
Meronion turned to the younger sister first. "No, it's fine." She smiled warmly at the young girl. "It's not about you, but you'll hear about it soon enough, so you might as well stay."
She turned back to her full sister. "There's no easy way to tell you this little sister, so I'll say it bluntly. The Wanax of Amott wants to ally with the empire. Amott is one of the most powerful Circiniad kingdoms on our border, so an alliance is in our interest."
"I see," Ophelion said, although she obviously didn't.
"He has requested a Dardanian wife to seal the alliance. A Wanax is royalty, and requires a royal bride. You have been chosen by the Eukrates...and myself."
"What?!" She yelled, causing Meronion to wince. So much for any hope of this going well. "You want to marry me off to some southern barbarian? How old is this man?"
Meronion rounded down. "I believe he's about forty."
Unsurprisingly, this didn't win Ophelion over. "Some fat old barbarian who expects me to have a dozen babies and stay at home all day looking after them." She hissed. "No family, no friends, no home! You can find someone else to make your stupid alliance. What even is a 'wanak'?"
"It's 'Wanax', and it refers to a king down there."
Meronion tried to stay calm as Ophelion continued to vent for some time. Helastus tried to stay unnoticed. Meronion did sympathize with Ophelion. She hated the idea of sending her little sister off to some southern primitive, but being royalty meant sacrifices. Ophelion should have expected it. As a royal with no chance of gaining the crowns, and no position of her own, her main use to the empire was through marriage. Of course she, and Ophelion, would have preferred a local patros lord, but that was how life worked out.
She tried to explain as much to Ophelion in a break in her ranting.
"This is the price for your luxurious life Ophelion. Sometimes you must sacrifice in order to protect the land which has given you everything. Poor noumens have the freedom to marry who they choose, but you are born with heavier duties. It's time to face the real world."
This made Ophelion angrier. "I know more about the real world than you. You think I'm weak and soft? I can handle things you can't."
"Ophie," Helastus said, plucking at her robe from behind. Ophelion turned to look at her before turning back to her older sister.
"Why me?" Ophelion whined. "Choose someone else, I refuse."
"You have no right to refuse," Meronion said, her patience starting to wear thin. "There is no one better."
"Choose Theo. She's the oldest, most important, and prettiest."
"Theodorian is the Mekos, the next Doukar, for now. She cannot marry some foreigner. Besides, she can’t have children."
"Why not you? You’re so eager to whore me out, hypocrite!"
Meronion scowled. "I already was married, by our father, if you recall. Now I'm the Milem, and my children are too young to make the trip."
"Well, what about Helastus then?" She pointed at the young. Helastus flinched, looking at Ophelion in horror. "She's not married either."
Meronion didn't hide her disgust. "Helastus is a child!" Only barbarians got married at her age. "Better her than you, is that it? You'd rather a child was "whored out" than make a sacrifice yourself."
Her tone doused Ophelion's mood, and the younger girl looked over to Helastus, who was looking at Ophelion with a hurt look.
"Hel, I didn't...mean it." Ophelion mumbled. Helastus silently looked down at her lap.
Meronion drew herself up and caught Ophelion's attention again. "Helastus is too young, but her turn will come one day, as will Pelagius's. Euphastolon's already came, if you forgot already. Today, it's your turn. It's time to provide for your people Ophelion. I won't say you should be happy or view it with a pleasure, but you will be a loyal daughter of the empire and carry out your duty."
"I don't want to." But the fire had gone out of her.
"It's past time for you to stop being a sheltered little girl and grow up. It's not all about what you want, princess or no."
Ophelion slumped back down to her couch, hanging her head dejectedly. "Nothing I say will get through to you will it? You don't care about me."
Meronion continued more gently. "Of course I care about you Ophelion. I always have and I always will. I hate this too. I want you to stay here with me, but I'm not free to make those decisions either."
Ophelion put her head in her hands, not replying.
Meronion continued, trying to comfort her.
"You never know. You might like it there." But even she didn't believe it.
Ophelion jumped up, and without looking at her, ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her, leaving the two of them behind. Helastus looked after Ophelion with an expression Meronion couldn't identify. With nothing else to do, Meronion apologized to Helastus for fighting her chambers and took her leave.
Losing Ophelion hurt her more deeply than she expected. Cordelian was good at knowing where to strike.