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alexandraerinStarted: 4/13/2011, 3:00
Status: In Progress
Last Updated: 6:00
Word Count: ~2500
Hours Writing: 2
[2 hours in. Very quite nearly done.]
"Well," Magisterion XIII, By the Arms And Sword of Khersis said, "I think this has been a productive visit."
He was seated on a divan that was more comfortable than it looked in one of the more private salons of the Palatium. Although black-suited Praetorian Guards were stationed outside the door and behind a concealed panel in the wall, he was alone in the room with a gaunt man whose skin was so translucently pale gaunt it had a slightly bluish tinge from the visible veins. The Emperor of Magisteria was armed with both the sword and scepter of the realm and protected by some of the most potent wards ever cast. His guest was unarmed and had been subjected to some of the most potent negations and dispelings ever cast.
As there were no servants attending on them, the coffee service and more substantial beverages in bottles arranged on the sideboard were managed by so-called "invisible servants" or "air golems", which were actually a complex series of verbally triggered spells.
When the imperial power was not present within the room, the spells would respond to requests from anyone. When the power was present, they would respond only the person it was vested in. This was one part decorum and one part security protocol. Because the spells had been woven with the idea of a single holder of the supreme office, they failed to obey anyone when both the Emperor and the Empress were present... a quirk that had also affected the previous two officeholders, and the members of the Triumvirate a century and a half before.
It was an academic matter at the moment, as Magisterion's consumption of both coffee and alcohol was fairly light. He didn't take either drink unless in the company of someone who did, and the ambassador was a congenital sufferer of what was euphemistically called "the aristocratic disease".
He did not drink coffee.
"Indeed, Your Majesty," the gaunt ambassador from the Mother Isles said. "I'm only sorry that her majesty your wife was indisposed. I hope she will be in a better humor for the reception tomorrow night. My wives have been quite interested in a chance to meet the fabled Purple Lady of the Westering Lands."
"Oh, they don't really call her that, do they?" Magisterion said.
"Only the magazine covers do. And my wives, of course. Third Wife, in particular, is quite keen on her. Copies her hair styles, and all"
"I hesitate to show ignorance..."
"Oh, an emperor is never ignorant," the dignitary said. "He merely occasionally suffers from the negligence of his advisors."
"You know, I did not know that," Magisterion said. "Perhaps I should ask my cabinet why they never told me this?"
"Your Majesty's swift grasp of the principle is admirable."
"As you say. But I was not aware that plural marriage was legally recognized in the Mother Isles."
"It is not, in the general case. The exception is a hereditary privilege that I enjoy," he said. "This is one of the more agreeable things about an emperor who enjoys a, how shall we say, prolonged reign... when one outlasts the fads and changing fashions of the centuries, it inclines one to take a broader view with regards to things like tradition. So while 'progress' marches on according to the beating drum of public fancy, we are allowed to quietly enjoy the ways of older and wiser periods."
Magisterion said nothing to this, though he privately believed that referring to earlier ages as "older and wiser" was much like expecting a man of sixty to defer to the greater maturity of his twenty-year-old self. In dealing with diplomats, it was necessary to be diplomatic.
Lord Reese, of course, wasn't an ambassador from some little island holding or fiefdom sent to beg for aid from the Imperial Republic, or else he would be meeting with the IRM's own diplomats. He was a noble peer of the Empire of the Mother Isles, an entity so vast and well-established that it could refer to itself simply as the Empire and, within the human-occupied corners of the world, its meaning would be taken.
Of course, for the same reason that Magisterion didn't question Reese's judgment as to the maturity of the Empire's older ways, the representatives of the older empire didn't refer to themselves as the Empire when dealing with the Imperial Republic. Internally and to the rest of the world, they were the Empire and the Imperium; in deailngs between each other, they added qualifiers or used their other names.
The Mother Isles. The Mother City. The Old Empire.
Magisteria. The Imperial Republic. The New Empire.
"Naturally, there will be other opportunities for your lovely brides to make the acquaintance of mine," Magisterion said. "I believe your embassy posting is open-ended, is it not?"
"Oh, yes," the ambassador said. "I serve at his majesty's pleasure, and yours. But my first three wives are only here to see us settled in. The schedule is somewhat up in the air, but they'll be flying back to the isles before the spring to help oversee my estates and business interests there. I tell you, a wife is a wonderful thing for delegating... well, I don't have to tell you that, I suppose."
Again, Magisterion said nothing. It was the most diplomatic thing he knew how to say.
He was not yet one hundred, and while he was not frail, he was old. He looked it, too. His two direct predecessors had both shared power with their wives, but they had been tall men who'd died in office before their hair turned white.
Magisterion's hair was white. His face was tightly-drawn in the way of an old man who has avoided sagging. The slight proportion of dwarven blood that had smoothed his aging process and given him broad shoulders and a healthy constitution even at his advanced age had not left him noticeably shorter, but people looked at an elderly man who relied on his wife differently than they did a younger one who shared the spotlight with her.
He did rely on her, to the extent that his left leg relied upon his right one to get where it was going. He'd had no intention of ruling alone... he had married his Vera with the idea that she would rule with him. It seemed like such an obvious thing to him. In the days of the original republican government of the Mother City, there had been two consuls sharing authority. The theory had been that this would keep both honest and stop any one person from seizing absolute power, but there were other advantages, as well. The two consuls could come from different walks of life, have differing skills, bring different perspectives to the role.
The office that later became the Emperorship had been created with the idea that in times of strife, a supreme leader who could decide and act with speed was necessary to defend the city. An empire wasn't a city, though. The idea that a single person could command the defense of the Imperium was folly.
The buck had to stop somewhere, as the elves said, but whether it was one man at the top or a hundred, they could do little more than set a policy and rely on generals to issue orders based on them. Those generals in turn would rely on the discretion and judgment of the officers under them. This was the only way to mount a defense or prosecute a war in the modern world.
Still, most of the world could not truly understand the idea of co-emperors. If he didn't keep his wife subordinate to him, that meant she was ruling over him, and the implications of that were meant to be unflattering.
The stuffed peacocks of the older empire... men like Lord Reese and the emperor he answered to... seemed to have an especial difficulty when it came to accepting the modern Magisterian way of things. Reese's coterie of blushless brides were seen as equal to Vera III in rank, because they shared the same title: wife. Any acknowledgment of Vera as Magisterion's equal was thus implicitly an insult.
Lord Reese sat with the placidity and warmth of the grave, waiting for Magisterion to say something.
"I find the best thing to do," the emperor finally said, "is simply to stay out of her way. She is capable and has a great love for her nation, and she accomplishes more for it doing as she pleases than she could or would if I set her to a specific task."
"I suppose once you award her the title of 'Empress', it would be difficult to discipline her," Reese said. "Again, I'm fortunate in being able to delegate that. Once I had First Wife trained, I could rely on her to keep the others in line."
Magisterion again said nothing.
"Now, this is not of course the purpose of my visit," the ambassador said, "but since I have the privilege of the imperial ear, I would like to say a few words on the matter of Malbus."
I'll just bet you would, Magisterion said, but aloud, he merely repeated his most diplomatic reply.
"The matter of Malbusian independence... as it's being characterized in the press... is really a strictly internal matter of the Mother City," Reese said carefully. "It is more a matter of reorganization... of clarification, really, of our duties and obligations to each other... than a substantive change in our relationship to Malbus, or our claims in the area."
"This has been conveyed to us many times," Magisterion said.
"Indeed? Well, I do not wish to overstate the case or give the appearance of greater importance than exists... but it must be understood that any overly aggressive act in response to a perceived vacuum created by the appearance of a withdrawal from the island of Malbus of our imperial aegis may be seen by certain factions within the Mother City as a hostile act against our empire."
"Naturally, we would not want that," Magisterion said. "We have been at peace for two hundred years."
"I suppose that seems like an eternity to you," Reese said.
"Hasn't it been?" Magisterion said. "Perhaps we should make it one."
"Peace has been a profitable policy for us to pursue," Reese said. "Our august emperor has long seen the benefit of having a self-sufficient trading partner across the sea. You know, he has told me in confidence that when he granted the provinces their independence, he saw it as an investment... and one that has paid off a thousandfold."
"I believe he saw an immediate return in the form of a reduction of the number of his troops killed and ships captured or sunk," Magisterion said. It was not a diplomatic thing to say, but he was an emperor, too. There were limits to how diplomatic he could reasonably be expected to be.
"Yes, well, there were many different factors behind his decision," Reese said. "The point I am trying to make is that it would be unfortunate to rock the boat at this point."
"In any event, you can give my assurances to your monarch that I have no intention of rocking any boats any time soon."
"Oh, thank you, but I assure you that I speak purely out of a personal interest in seeing the special relationship between our two powers preserved," Reese said. "His Imperial Majesty the Unnameable One has not empowered me to speak officially on matters pertaining to Malbus. Honestly, I doubt the issue is important enough for him to have even thought much on it."
Diplomacy was a strange game, Magisterion mused. There were so many things that Reese was evidently not allowed to say. He couldn't say that his emperor was anxious about what Magisterion might do when they started pulling out of their no-longer-profitable island holdings. He couldn't even say that the holdings weren't profitable or that they were pulling out. In the face of all these things that the man couldn't say, though, he kept talking.
"Then let us say no more about it, lest you inadvertently overstep your authority in your enthusiasm to further the cause of peace," Magisterion said.
"Indeed," Reese said. "Well said, Your Majesty."
It was well said, wasn't it? Magisterion thought. He was genuinely proud of that one. He was sure his own diplomatic advisors from the Estate Department could have come up with nothing better. He was equally sure that when they pored over the transcripts later, not a single one would bother to compliment him for it. Instead, they'd focus on Magisterion's reference to the Old Empire's defeat in a centuries-old war.
It was their job to worry about things like that, but really, it was possible to worry so much. Peace was a profitable policy because there was nothing to be gained from war. Neither empire stood to gain anything by conquering the other... the initial victory would cost too much, as would the task of maintaining control over a vast and resentful territory on the other side of a wide ocean.
"If there is no other official business to discuss..." Magisterion said.
"We ran that out some time ago, I'm afraid," Reese said.
"I believe I will release you to settle in, then, while I see to Her Majesty, the Empress," Magisterion said. He raised a hand, and the double doors at the far end of the room clicked and swung open. "We'll speak again this afternoon... at the Skirmish match, I believe."
"I'm looking forward to it," Reese said. "I understand your players... excuse me, fighters... use phantasmal weapons. It sounds very exciting and modern."
"I'm sure you will enjoy it."
Magisterion remained seated as Reese left the room. He caused the doors to close behind him, and then remained alone. He knew his wife needed no looking after... there was no cure for dragons on the brain, or for not wanting to be treated on the same level as some lordling's concubines. He expected her to show up on her own, by and by, and by and by she did.
"Hello, Gerry," she said, by way of greeting. It wasn't anything like the name he'd given up, but in her mind it was the natural nickname for his regnal name. He rose and kissed her on the cheek as she approached. "All alone for the moment?"
[1.5 hours in. Need to credit SethRGray for catching the typo in Magisterion's numbering.]
"Well," Magisterion XIII, By the Arms And Sword of Khersis said, "I think this has been a productive visit."
He was seated on a divan that was more comfortable than it looked in one of the more private salons of the Palatium. Although black-suited Praetorian Guards were stationed outside the door and behind a concealed panel in the wall, he was alone in the room with a gaunt man whose skin was so translucently pale gaunt it had a slightly bluish tinge from the visible veins. The Emperor of Magisteria was armed with both the sword and scepter of the realm and protected by some of the most potent wards ever cast. His guest was unarmed and had been subjected to some of the most potent negations and dispellings ever cast.
As there were no servants attending on them, the coffee service and more substantial beverages in bottles arranged on the sideboard were managed by so-called "invisible servants" or "air golems", which were actually a complex series of verbally triggered spells.
When the imperial power was not present within the room, the spells would respond to requests from anyone. When the power was present, they would respond only the person it was vested in. This was one part decorum and one part security protocol. Because the spells had been woven with the idea of a single holder of the supreme office, they failed to obey anyone when both the Emperor and the Empress were present... a quirk that had also affected the previous two officeholders, and the members of the Triumvirate a century and a half before.
It was an academic matter at the moment, as Magisterion's consumption of both coffee and alcohol was fairly light. He didn't take either drink unless in the company of someone who did, and the ambassador suffered what was euphemistically called "the aristocratic disease". He did not drink coffee.
"Indeed, Your Majesty," the gaunt ambassador from the Mother Isles said. "I'm only sorry that her majesty your wife was indisposed. I hope she will be in a better humor for the reception tomorrow night. My wives have been quite interested in a chance to meet the fabled Purple Lady of the Westering Lands."
"Oh, they don't really call her that, do they?" Magisterion said.
"Only the magazine covers do. And my wives, of course. Third Wife, in particular, is quite keen on her. Copies her hair styles, and all"
"I hesitate to show ignorance..."
"Oh, an emperor is never ignorant," the dignitary said. "He merely occasionally suffers from the negligence of his advisors."
"You know, I did not know that," Magisterion said. "Perhaps I should ask my cabinet why they never told me this?"
"Your Majesty's swift grasp of the principle is admirable."
"As you say. But I was not aware that plural marriage was legally recognized in the Mother Isles."
"It is not, in the general case. The exception is a hereditary privilege that I enjoy," he said. "This is one of the more agreeable things about an emperor who enjoys a, how shall we say, prolonged reign... when one outlasts the fads and changing fashions of the centuries, it inclines one to take a broader view with regards to things like tradition. So while 'progress' marches on according to the beating drum of public fancy, we are allowed to quietly enjoy the ways of older and wiser periods."
Magisterion said nothing to this, though he privately believed that referring to earlier ages as "older and wiser" was much like expecting a man of sixty to defer to the greater maturity of his twenty-year-old self. In dealing with diplomats, it was necessary to be diplomatic.
Lord Reese, of course, wasn't an ambassador from some little island holding or fiefdom sent to beg for aid from the Imperial Republic, or else he would be meeting with the IRM's own diplomats. He was a noble peer of the Empire of the Mother Isles, an entity so vast and well-established that it could refer to itself simply as the Empire and, within the human-occupied corners of the world, its meaning would be taken.
Of course, for the same reason that Magisterion didn't question Reese's judgment as to the maturity of the Empire's older ways, the representatives of the older empire didn't refer to themselves as the Empire when dealing with the Imperial Republic. Internally and to the rest of the world, they were the Empire and the Imperium; in deailngs between each other, they added qualifiers or used their other names.
The Mother Isles. The Mother City. The Old Empire.
Magisteria. The Imperial Republic. The New Empire.
"Naturally, there will be other opportunities for your lovely brides to make the acquaintance of mine," Magisterion said. "I believe your embassy posting is open-ended, is it not?"
"Oh, yes," the ambassador said. "I serve at his majesty's pleasure, and yours. But my first three wives are only here to see us settled in. The schedule is somewhat up in the air, but they'll be flying back to the isles before the spring to help oversee my estates and business interests there. I tell you, a wife is a wonderful thing for delegating... well, I don't have to tell you that, I suppose."
Again, Magisterion said nothing. It was the most diplomatic thing he knew how to say. He was not yet one hundred, and while he was not frail, he was old. He looked it, too. His two direct predecessors had both shared power with their wives, but they had been tall men who'd died in office before their hair turned white.
Magisterion's hair was white. His face was tightly-drawn in the way of an old man who has avoided sagging. He stood an officially unspecified number of inches below five and a half feet. The same small amount of dwarven blood that had left him at this height had also given him broad shoulders and a healthy constitution even at his advanced age, but people looked at a shorter, older man who relied on his wife differently than they did a taller, younger one.
He had married his Vera with the idea that she would rule with him. It seemed like such an obvious thing to him. In the days of the original republican government of the Mother City, there had been two consuls sharing power. The office that later became the Emperorship had been created with the idea that in times of strife, a supreme leader who could decide and act with speed was necessary to defend the city.
An empire wasn't a city. The idea that a single person could command the defense of the Imperium was folly. The buck had to stop somewhere, as the elves said, but whether there was one man at the top or a hundred, they could do little more than set a policy and rely on generals to issue orders based on them. Those generals in turn would rely on the discretion and judgment of the officers under them. This was the only way to mount a defense or prosecute a war in the modern world.
"I find the best thing to do," he said, "is simply to stay out of her way. She is capable and has a great love for her nation, and she accomplishes more for it doing as she pleases than she could or would if I set her to a specific task."
"I suppose once you award her the title of 'Empress', it would be difficult to discipline her," Reese said. "Again, I'm fortunate in being able to delegate that. Once I had First Wife trained, I could rely on her to keep the others in line."
Magisterion again said nothing.
"Now, this is not of course the purpose of my visit," the ambassador said, "but since I have the privilege of the imperial ear, I would like to say a few words on the matter of Malbus."
I'll just bet you would, Magisterion said, but aloud, he merely repeated his most diplomatic reply.
"The matter of Malbusian independence... as it's being characterized in the press... is really a strictly internal matter of the Mother City," Reese said carefully. "It is more a matter of reorganization... of clarification, really, of our duties and obligations to each other... than a substantive change in our relationship to Malbus, or our claims in the area."
"This has been conveyed to us many times," Magisterion said.
"Indeed? Well, I do not wish to overstate the case or give the appearance of greater importance than exists... but it must be understood that any overly aggressive act in response to a perceived vacuum created by the appearance of a withdrawal from the island of Malbus of our imperial aegis may be seen by certain factions within the Mother City as a hostile act against our empire."
"Naturally, we would not want that," Magisterion said. "We have been at peace for two hundred years."
"I suppose that seems like an eternity to you," Reese said.
"Hasn't it been?" Magisterion said. "Perhaps we should make it one."
"Peace has been a profitable policy for us to pursue," Reese said. "Our august emperor has long seen the benefit of having a self-sufficient trading partner across the sea. You know, he has told me in confidence that when he granted the provinces their independence, he saw it as an investment... and one that has paid off a thousandfold."
"I believe he saw an immediate return in the form of a reduction of the number of his troops killed and ships captured or sunk," Magisterion said. It was not a diplomatic thing to say, but he was an emperor, too. There were limits to how diplomatic he could reasonably be expected to be.
"Yes, well, there were many different factors behind his decision," Reese said. "The point I am trying to make is that it would be unfortunate to rock the boat at this point."
"In any event, you can give my assurances to your monarch that I have no intention of rocking any boats any time soon."
"Oh, thank you, but I assure you that I speak purely out of a personal interest in seeing the special relationship between our two powers preserved," Reese said. "His Imperial Majesty the Unnameable One has not empowered me to speak officially on matters pertaining to Malbus. Honestly, I doubt the issue is important enough for him to have even thought much on it."
Diplomacy was a strange game, Magisterion mused. There were so many things that Reese was evidently not allowed to say. He couldn't say that his emperor was anxious about what Magisterion might do when they started pulling out of their no-longer-profitable island holdings. He couldn't even say that the holdings weren't profitable or that they were pulling out. In the face of all these things that the man couldn't say, though, he kept talking.
Peace was a profitable policy because there was nothing to be gained from war. Neither empire stood to gain anything by conquering the other... the initial victory would cost too much, as would the task of maintaining control over a vast and resentful territory on the other side of a wide ocean.
[1 hour in. Shaping up.]
"Well," Magisterion XII, By the Arms And Sword of Khersis said, "I think this has been a productive visit."
He was seated on a divan that was more comfortable than it looked in one of the more private salons of the Palatium. Although black-suited Praetorian Guards were stationed outside the door and behind a concealed panel in the wall, he was alone in the room with a gaunt man whose skin had a slight bluish cast. He, the Emperor of Magisteria, was armed with both the sword and scepter of the realm and protected by some of the most potent wards ever cast. His guest was unarmed and had been subjected to some of the most potent negations and dispellings ever cast.
"Indeed, Your Majesty," the blue-tinged ambassador from the Mother Isles said. "I'm only sorry that her majesty your wife was indisposed. I hope she will be in a better humor for the reception tomorrow night. My wives have been quite interested in a chance to meet the fabled Purple Lady of the Westering Lands."
"Oh, they don't really call her that, do they?"
"Only the magazine covers do. And my wives, of course. Third Wife, in particular, is quite keen on her. Copies her hair styles, and all"
"I hesitate to show ignorance..."
"Oh, an emperor is never ignorant," the dignitary said. "He merely occasionally suffers from the negligence of his advisors."
"You know, I did not know that," Magisterion said. "Perhaps I should ask my cabinet why they never told me this?"
"Your Majesty's swift grasp of the principle is admirable."
"As you say. But I was not aware that plural marriage was legally recognized in the Mother Isles."
"It is not, in general. The exception is a hereditary privilege that I enjoy," he said. "This is one of the more agreeable things about an emperor who enjoys a, how shall we say, prolonged reign... when one outlasts the fads and changing fashions of the centuries, it inclines one to take a broader view with regards to things like tradition. So while 'progress' marches on according to the beating drum of public fancy, we are allowed to quietly enjoy the ways of older and wiser periods."
Magisterion said nothing to this, though he privately believed that referring to earlier ages as "older and wiser" was much like expecting a man of sixty to defer to the greater maturity of his twenty-year-old self. In dealing with diplomats, it was necessary to be diplomatic.
Lord Reese, of course, wasn't an ambassador from some little island holding or fiefdom sent to beg for aid from the Imperial Republic, or else he would be meeting with the IRM's own diplomats. He was a noble peer of the Empire of the Mother Isles, an entity so vast and well-established that it could refer to itself simply as the Empire and, within the human-occupied corners of the world, its meaning would be taken.
Of course, for the same reason that Magisterion didn't question Reese's judgment as to the maturity of the Empire's older ways, the representatives of the older empire didn't refer to themselves as the Empire when dealing with the Imperial Republic. Internally and to the rest of the world, they were the Empire and the Imperium; in deailngs between each other, they added qualifiers or used their other names.
The Mother Isles. The Mother City. The Old Empire.
Magisteria. The Imperial Republic. The New Empire.
"Naturally, there will be other opportunities for your lovely brides to make the acquaintance of mine," Magisterion said. "I believe your embassy posting is open-ended, is it not?"
"Oh, yes," the ambassador said. "But my first three wives are only here to see me settled in. The schedule is somewhat up in the air, but they'll be flying back to the isles before the spring to help oversee my estates and business interests there. I tell you, a wife is a wonderful thing for delegating... well, I don't have to tell you that, I suppose."
Again, Magisterion said nothing. It was the most diplomatic thing he knew how to say. He was not yet one hundred, and while he was not frail, he was old. He looked it, too. His two direct predecessors had both shared power with their wives, but they had been tall men who'd died before their hair turned white.
Magisterion's hair was white. His face was tightly-drawn in the way of an old man who has avoided sagging. He stood an officially unspecified number of inches below five and a half feet. The same small amount of dwarven blood that had left him at this height had also given him broad shoulders and a healthy constitution even at his advanced age, but people looked at an old man who relied on his wife differently than they did a younger one.
"I find the best thing to do," he said, "is simply to stay out of her way. She is capable and has a great love for her nation, and she accomplishes more for it doing as she pleases than she could or would if I set her to a specific task."
"I suppose once you award her the title of 'Empress', it would be difficult to discipline her," Reese said. "Again, I'm fortunate in being able to delegate that. Once I had First Wife trained, I could rely on her to keep the others in line."
Magisterion again said nothing.
"Now, this is not of course the purpose of my visit," the ambassador said, "but since I have the privilege of the imperial ear, I would like to say a few words on the matter of Malbus."
I'll just bet you would, Magisterion said, but aloud, he merely repeated his most diplomatic reply.
"The matter of Malbusian independence... as it's being characterized in the press... is really a strictly internal matter of the Mother City," Reese said carefully. "It is more a matter of reorganization... of clarification, really, of our duties and obligations to each other... than a substantive change in our relationship to Malbus, or our claims in the area."
"This has been conveyed to us many times," Magisterion said.
"Indeed? Well, I do not wish to overstate the case or give the appearance of greater importance than exists... but it must be understood that any overly aggressive act in response to a perceived vacuum created by the appearance of a withdrawal from the island of Malbus of our imperial aegis may be seen by certain factions within the Mother City as a hostile act against our empire."
[]
"Peace has been a profitable policy for us to pursue," Reese said. "Our august emperor has long seen the benefit of having a self-sufficient trading partner across the sea. You know, he has told me in confidence that when he granted the provinces their independence, he saw it as an investment... and one that has paid off a thousandfold."
"I believe he saw an immediate return in the form of a reduction of the number of his troops killed and ships captured or sunk," Magisterion said. It was not a diplomatic thing to say, but he was an emperor, too. There were limits to how diplomatic he could reasonably be expected to be.
"Yes, well, there were many different factors behind his decision," Reese said. "The point I am trying to make is that it would be unfortunate to rock the boat at this point."
"In any event, you can give my assurances to your monarch that I have no intention of rocking any boats any time soon."
"Oh, thank you, but I assure you that I speak purely out of a personal interest in seeing the special relationship between our two powers preserved," Reese said. "His Imperial Majesty the Unnameable One has not empowered me to speak officially on matters pertaining to Malbus. Honestly, I doubt the issue is important enough for him to have even thought much on it."
Diplomacy was a strange game, Magisterion mused. There were so many things that Reese was evidently not allowed to say. He couldn't say that his emperor was anxious about what Magisterion might do when they started pulling out of their no-longer-profitable island holdings. He couldn't even say that the holdings weren't profitable or that they were pulling out. In the face of all these things that the man couldn't say, though, he kept talking.
[0.5 hours. Just begun.]
"Well," Magisterion XII, By the Arms And Sword of Khersis said, "I think this has been a productive visit."
"Indeed, Your Majesty," the ambassador from the Mother Isles said. "I'm only sorry that your wife was indisposed. I hope she will be in a better humor for the reception. My wives have been quite interested in a chance to meet the fabled Purple Lady of the Westering Lands."
"Oh, they don't really call her that, do they?"
"Only the magazine covers do. And my wives, of course. Third Wife, in particular, is quite keen on her. Copies her hair styles, and all"
"I hesitate to show ignorance..."
"An emperor is never ignorant," the dignitary said. "He merely occasionally suffers from the negligence of his advisors."
"As you say. But I was not aware that plural marriage of humans was legally recognized in the Mother Isles."
"It is not, in general. The exception is a hereditary privilege that I enjoy," he said. "This is one of the more agreeable things about an emperor who enjoys a, how shall we say, prolonged reign... when one outlasts the fads and changing fashions of the centuries, it inclines one to take a broader view with regards to things like tradition. So while 'progress' marches on according to the beating drum of public fancy, we are allowed to quietly enjoy the ways of older and wiser periods."
Magisterion said nothing to this, though he privately believed that referring to earlier ages as "older and wiser" was much like expecting a man of sixty to defer to the greater maturity of his twenty-year-old self. In dealing with diplomats, it was necessary to be diplomatic.
Lord Reese, of course, wasn't an ambassador from some little island holding or fiefdom sent to beg for aid from the Imperial Republic, or else he would be meeting with the IRM's own diplomats. He was a noble peer of the Empire of the Mother Isles, an entity so vast and well-established that it could refer to itself simply as the Empire and, within the human-occupied corners of the world, its meaning would be taken.
Of course, for the same reason that Magisterion didn't question Reese's judgment as to the maturity of the Empire's older ways, the representatives of the older empire didn't refer to themselves as the Empire when dealing with the Imperial Republic. Internally and to the rest of the world, they were the Empire and the Imperium; in deailngs between each other, they added qualifiers or used their other names.
The Mother Isles. The Mother City. The Old Empire.
Magisteria. The Imperial Republic. The New Empire.
"Naturally, there will be other opportunities for your lovely brides to make the acquaintance of mine," Magisterion said. "I believe your embassy posting is open-ended, is it not?"
"Oh, yes," the ambassador said. "But my first three wives are only here to see me settled in. The schedule is somewhat up in the air, but they'll be flying back to the isles before the spring to help oversee my estates and business interests there. I tell you, a wife is a wonderful thing for delegating... well, I don't have to tell you that, I suppose."
Again, Magisterion said nothing. It was the most diplomatic thing he knew how to say. He was not yet one hundred, and while he was not frail, he was old. He looked it, too. His two direct predecessors had both shared power with their wives, but they had been tall men who'd died before their hair turned white.
Magisterion's hair was white. His face was tightly-drawn in the way of an old man who has avoided sagging. He stood an officially unspecified number of inches below five and a half feet. The same small amount of dwarven blood that had left him at this height had also given him broad shoulders and a healthy constitution even at his advanced age, but people looked at an old man who relied on his wife differently than they did a younger one.
"I find the best thing to do," he said, "is simply to stay out of her way. She is capable and has a great love for her nation, and she accomplishes more for it doing as she pleases than she could or would if I set her to a specific task."
"I suppose once you award her the title of 'Empress', it would be difficult to discipline her," Reese said. "Again, I'm fortunate in being able to delegate that. Once I had First Wife trained, I could rely on her to keep the others in line."
Magisterion again said nothing.
"Now, this is not of course the purpose of my visit," the ambassador said, "but since I have the privilege of the imperial ear, I would like to say a few words on the matter of Malbus."
I'll just bet you would, Magisterion said, but aloud, he merely repeated his most diplomatic reply.
"The matter of Malbusian independence... as it's being characterized in the press... is really a strictly internal matter of the Mother City," Reese said.
Status: In Progress
Last Updated: 6:00
Word Count: ~2500
Hours Writing: 2
[2 hours in. Very quite nearly done.]
"Well," Magisterion XIII, By the Arms And Sword of Khersis said, "I think this has been a productive visit."
He was seated on a divan that was more comfortable than it looked in one of the more private salons of the Palatium. Although black-suited Praetorian Guards were stationed outside the door and behind a concealed panel in the wall, he was alone in the room with a gaunt man whose skin was so translucently pale gaunt it had a slightly bluish tinge from the visible veins. The Emperor of Magisteria was armed with both the sword and scepter of the realm and protected by some of the most potent wards ever cast. His guest was unarmed and had been subjected to some of the most potent negations and dispelings ever cast.
As there were no servants attending on them, the coffee service and more substantial beverages in bottles arranged on the sideboard were managed by so-called "invisible servants" or "air golems", which were actually a complex series of verbally triggered spells.
When the imperial power was not present within the room, the spells would respond to requests from anyone. When the power was present, they would respond only the person it was vested in. This was one part decorum and one part security protocol. Because the spells had been woven with the idea of a single holder of the supreme office, they failed to obey anyone when both the Emperor and the Empress were present... a quirk that had also affected the previous two officeholders, and the members of the Triumvirate a century and a half before.
It was an academic matter at the moment, as Magisterion's consumption of both coffee and alcohol was fairly light. He didn't take either drink unless in the company of someone who did, and the ambassador was a congenital sufferer of what was euphemistically called "the aristocratic disease".
He did not drink coffee.
"Indeed, Your Majesty," the gaunt ambassador from the Mother Isles said. "I'm only sorry that her majesty your wife was indisposed. I hope she will be in a better humor for the reception tomorrow night. My wives have been quite interested in a chance to meet the fabled Purple Lady of the Westering Lands."
"Oh, they don't really call her that, do they?" Magisterion said.
"Only the magazine covers do. And my wives, of course. Third Wife, in particular, is quite keen on her. Copies her hair styles, and all"
"I hesitate to show ignorance..."
"Oh, an emperor is never ignorant," the dignitary said. "He merely occasionally suffers from the negligence of his advisors."
"You know, I did not know that," Magisterion said. "Perhaps I should ask my cabinet why they never told me this?"
"Your Majesty's swift grasp of the principle is admirable."
"As you say. But I was not aware that plural marriage was legally recognized in the Mother Isles."
"It is not, in the general case. The exception is a hereditary privilege that I enjoy," he said. "This is one of the more agreeable things about an emperor who enjoys a, how shall we say, prolonged reign... when one outlasts the fads and changing fashions of the centuries, it inclines one to take a broader view with regards to things like tradition. So while 'progress' marches on according to the beating drum of public fancy, we are allowed to quietly enjoy the ways of older and wiser periods."
Magisterion said nothing to this, though he privately believed that referring to earlier ages as "older and wiser" was much like expecting a man of sixty to defer to the greater maturity of his twenty-year-old self. In dealing with diplomats, it was necessary to be diplomatic.
Lord Reese, of course, wasn't an ambassador from some little island holding or fiefdom sent to beg for aid from the Imperial Republic, or else he would be meeting with the IRM's own diplomats. He was a noble peer of the Empire of the Mother Isles, an entity so vast and well-established that it could refer to itself simply as the Empire and, within the human-occupied corners of the world, its meaning would be taken.
Of course, for the same reason that Magisterion didn't question Reese's judgment as to the maturity of the Empire's older ways, the representatives of the older empire didn't refer to themselves as the Empire when dealing with the Imperial Republic. Internally and to the rest of the world, they were the Empire and the Imperium; in deailngs between each other, they added qualifiers or used their other names.
The Mother Isles. The Mother City. The Old Empire.
Magisteria. The Imperial Republic. The New Empire.
"Naturally, there will be other opportunities for your lovely brides to make the acquaintance of mine," Magisterion said. "I believe your embassy posting is open-ended, is it not?"
"Oh, yes," the ambassador said. "I serve at his majesty's pleasure, and yours. But my first three wives are only here to see us settled in. The schedule is somewhat up in the air, but they'll be flying back to the isles before the spring to help oversee my estates and business interests there. I tell you, a wife is a wonderful thing for delegating... well, I don't have to tell you that, I suppose."
Again, Magisterion said nothing. It was the most diplomatic thing he knew how to say.
He was not yet one hundred, and while he was not frail, he was old. He looked it, too. His two direct predecessors had both shared power with their wives, but they had been tall men who'd died in office before their hair turned white.
Magisterion's hair was white. His face was tightly-drawn in the way of an old man who has avoided sagging. The slight proportion of dwarven blood that had smoothed his aging process and given him broad shoulders and a healthy constitution even at his advanced age had not left him noticeably shorter, but people looked at an elderly man who relied on his wife differently than they did a younger one who shared the spotlight with her.
He did rely on her, to the extent that his left leg relied upon his right one to get where it was going. He'd had no intention of ruling alone... he had married his Vera with the idea that she would rule with him. It seemed like such an obvious thing to him. In the days of the original republican government of the Mother City, there had been two consuls sharing authority. The theory had been that this would keep both honest and stop any one person from seizing absolute power, but there were other advantages, as well. The two consuls could come from different walks of life, have differing skills, bring different perspectives to the role.
The office that later became the Emperorship had been created with the idea that in times of strife, a supreme leader who could decide and act with speed was necessary to defend the city. An empire wasn't a city, though. The idea that a single person could command the defense of the Imperium was folly.
The buck had to stop somewhere, as the elves said, but whether it was one man at the top or a hundred, they could do little more than set a policy and rely on generals to issue orders based on them. Those generals in turn would rely on the discretion and judgment of the officers under them. This was the only way to mount a defense or prosecute a war in the modern world.
Still, most of the world could not truly understand the idea of co-emperors. If he didn't keep his wife subordinate to him, that meant she was ruling over him, and the implications of that were meant to be unflattering.
The stuffed peacocks of the older empire... men like Lord Reese and the emperor he answered to... seemed to have an especial difficulty when it came to accepting the modern Magisterian way of things. Reese's coterie of blushless brides were seen as equal to Vera III in rank, because they shared the same title: wife. Any acknowledgment of Vera as Magisterion's equal was thus implicitly an insult.
Lord Reese sat with the placidity and warmth of the grave, waiting for Magisterion to say something.
"I find the best thing to do," the emperor finally said, "is simply to stay out of her way. She is capable and has a great love for her nation, and she accomplishes more for it doing as she pleases than she could or would if I set her to a specific task."
"I suppose once you award her the title of 'Empress', it would be difficult to discipline her," Reese said. "Again, I'm fortunate in being able to delegate that. Once I had First Wife trained, I could rely on her to keep the others in line."
Magisterion again said nothing.
"Now, this is not of course the purpose of my visit," the ambassador said, "but since I have the privilege of the imperial ear, I would like to say a few words on the matter of Malbus."
I'll just bet you would, Magisterion said, but aloud, he merely repeated his most diplomatic reply.
"The matter of Malbusian independence... as it's being characterized in the press... is really a strictly internal matter of the Mother City," Reese said carefully. "It is more a matter of reorganization... of clarification, really, of our duties and obligations to each other... than a substantive change in our relationship to Malbus, or our claims in the area."
"This has been conveyed to us many times," Magisterion said.
"Indeed? Well, I do not wish to overstate the case or give the appearance of greater importance than exists... but it must be understood that any overly aggressive act in response to a perceived vacuum created by the appearance of a withdrawal from the island of Malbus of our imperial aegis may be seen by certain factions within the Mother City as a hostile act against our empire."
"Naturally, we would not want that," Magisterion said. "We have been at peace for two hundred years."
"I suppose that seems like an eternity to you," Reese said.
"Hasn't it been?" Magisterion said. "Perhaps we should make it one."
"Peace has been a profitable policy for us to pursue," Reese said. "Our august emperor has long seen the benefit of having a self-sufficient trading partner across the sea. You know, he has told me in confidence that when he granted the provinces their independence, he saw it as an investment... and one that has paid off a thousandfold."
"I believe he saw an immediate return in the form of a reduction of the number of his troops killed and ships captured or sunk," Magisterion said. It was not a diplomatic thing to say, but he was an emperor, too. There were limits to how diplomatic he could reasonably be expected to be.
"Yes, well, there were many different factors behind his decision," Reese said. "The point I am trying to make is that it would be unfortunate to rock the boat at this point."
"In any event, you can give my assurances to your monarch that I have no intention of rocking any boats any time soon."
"Oh, thank you, but I assure you that I speak purely out of a personal interest in seeing the special relationship between our two powers preserved," Reese said. "His Imperial Majesty the Unnameable One has not empowered me to speak officially on matters pertaining to Malbus. Honestly, I doubt the issue is important enough for him to have even thought much on it."
Diplomacy was a strange game, Magisterion mused. There were so many things that Reese was evidently not allowed to say. He couldn't say that his emperor was anxious about what Magisterion might do when they started pulling out of their no-longer-profitable island holdings. He couldn't even say that the holdings weren't profitable or that they were pulling out. In the face of all these things that the man couldn't say, though, he kept talking.
"Then let us say no more about it, lest you inadvertently overstep your authority in your enthusiasm to further the cause of peace," Magisterion said.
"Indeed," Reese said. "Well said, Your Majesty."
It was well said, wasn't it? Magisterion thought. He was genuinely proud of that one. He was sure his own diplomatic advisors from the Estate Department could have come up with nothing better. He was equally sure that when they pored over the transcripts later, not a single one would bother to compliment him for it. Instead, they'd focus on Magisterion's reference to the Old Empire's defeat in a centuries-old war.
It was their job to worry about things like that, but really, it was possible to worry so much. Peace was a profitable policy because there was nothing to be gained from war. Neither empire stood to gain anything by conquering the other... the initial victory would cost too much, as would the task of maintaining control over a vast and resentful territory on the other side of a wide ocean.
"If there is no other official business to discuss..." Magisterion said.
"We ran that out some time ago, I'm afraid," Reese said.
"I believe I will release you to settle in, then, while I see to Her Majesty, the Empress," Magisterion said. He raised a hand, and the double doors at the far end of the room clicked and swung open. "We'll speak again this afternoon... at the Skirmish match, I believe."
"I'm looking forward to it," Reese said. "I understand your players... excuse me, fighters... use phantasmal weapons. It sounds very exciting and modern."
"I'm sure you will enjoy it."
Magisterion remained seated as Reese left the room. He caused the doors to close behind him, and then remained alone. He knew his wife needed no looking after... there was no cure for dragons on the brain, or for not wanting to be treated on the same level as some lordling's concubines. He expected her to show up on her own, by and by, and by and by she did.
"Hello, Gerry," she said, by way of greeting. It wasn't anything like the name he'd given up, but in her mind it was the natural nickname for his regnal name. He rose and kissed her on the cheek as she approached. "All alone for the moment?"
[1.5 hours in. Need to credit SethRGray for catching the typo in Magisterion's numbering.]
"Well," Magisterion XIII, By the Arms And Sword of Khersis said, "I think this has been a productive visit."
He was seated on a divan that was more comfortable than it looked in one of the more private salons of the Palatium. Although black-suited Praetorian Guards were stationed outside the door and behind a concealed panel in the wall, he was alone in the room with a gaunt man whose skin was so translucently pale gaunt it had a slightly bluish tinge from the visible veins. The Emperor of Magisteria was armed with both the sword and scepter of the realm and protected by some of the most potent wards ever cast. His guest was unarmed and had been subjected to some of the most potent negations and dispellings ever cast.
As there were no servants attending on them, the coffee service and more substantial beverages in bottles arranged on the sideboard were managed by so-called "invisible servants" or "air golems", which were actually a complex series of verbally triggered spells.
When the imperial power was not present within the room, the spells would respond to requests from anyone. When the power was present, they would respond only the person it was vested in. This was one part decorum and one part security protocol. Because the spells had been woven with the idea of a single holder of the supreme office, they failed to obey anyone when both the Emperor and the Empress were present... a quirk that had also affected the previous two officeholders, and the members of the Triumvirate a century and a half before.
It was an academic matter at the moment, as Magisterion's consumption of both coffee and alcohol was fairly light. He didn't take either drink unless in the company of someone who did, and the ambassador suffered what was euphemistically called "the aristocratic disease". He did not drink coffee.
"Indeed, Your Majesty," the gaunt ambassador from the Mother Isles said. "I'm only sorry that her majesty your wife was indisposed. I hope she will be in a better humor for the reception tomorrow night. My wives have been quite interested in a chance to meet the fabled Purple Lady of the Westering Lands."
"Oh, they don't really call her that, do they?" Magisterion said.
"Only the magazine covers do. And my wives, of course. Third Wife, in particular, is quite keen on her. Copies her hair styles, and all"
"I hesitate to show ignorance..."
"Oh, an emperor is never ignorant," the dignitary said. "He merely occasionally suffers from the negligence of his advisors."
"You know, I did not know that," Magisterion said. "Perhaps I should ask my cabinet why they never told me this?"
"Your Majesty's swift grasp of the principle is admirable."
"As you say. But I was not aware that plural marriage was legally recognized in the Mother Isles."
"It is not, in the general case. The exception is a hereditary privilege that I enjoy," he said. "This is one of the more agreeable things about an emperor who enjoys a, how shall we say, prolonged reign... when one outlasts the fads and changing fashions of the centuries, it inclines one to take a broader view with regards to things like tradition. So while 'progress' marches on according to the beating drum of public fancy, we are allowed to quietly enjoy the ways of older and wiser periods."
Magisterion said nothing to this, though he privately believed that referring to earlier ages as "older and wiser" was much like expecting a man of sixty to defer to the greater maturity of his twenty-year-old self. In dealing with diplomats, it was necessary to be diplomatic.
Lord Reese, of course, wasn't an ambassador from some little island holding or fiefdom sent to beg for aid from the Imperial Republic, or else he would be meeting with the IRM's own diplomats. He was a noble peer of the Empire of the Mother Isles, an entity so vast and well-established that it could refer to itself simply as the Empire and, within the human-occupied corners of the world, its meaning would be taken.
Of course, for the same reason that Magisterion didn't question Reese's judgment as to the maturity of the Empire's older ways, the representatives of the older empire didn't refer to themselves as the Empire when dealing with the Imperial Republic. Internally and to the rest of the world, they were the Empire and the Imperium; in deailngs between each other, they added qualifiers or used their other names.
The Mother Isles. The Mother City. The Old Empire.
Magisteria. The Imperial Republic. The New Empire.
"Naturally, there will be other opportunities for your lovely brides to make the acquaintance of mine," Magisterion said. "I believe your embassy posting is open-ended, is it not?"
"Oh, yes," the ambassador said. "I serve at his majesty's pleasure, and yours. But my first three wives are only here to see us settled in. The schedule is somewhat up in the air, but they'll be flying back to the isles before the spring to help oversee my estates and business interests there. I tell you, a wife is a wonderful thing for delegating... well, I don't have to tell you that, I suppose."
Again, Magisterion said nothing. It was the most diplomatic thing he knew how to say. He was not yet one hundred, and while he was not frail, he was old. He looked it, too. His two direct predecessors had both shared power with their wives, but they had been tall men who'd died in office before their hair turned white.
Magisterion's hair was white. His face was tightly-drawn in the way of an old man who has avoided sagging. He stood an officially unspecified number of inches below five and a half feet. The same small amount of dwarven blood that had left him at this height had also given him broad shoulders and a healthy constitution even at his advanced age, but people looked at a shorter, older man who relied on his wife differently than they did a taller, younger one.
He had married his Vera with the idea that she would rule with him. It seemed like such an obvious thing to him. In the days of the original republican government of the Mother City, there had been two consuls sharing power. The office that later became the Emperorship had been created with the idea that in times of strife, a supreme leader who could decide and act with speed was necessary to defend the city.
An empire wasn't a city. The idea that a single person could command the defense of the Imperium was folly. The buck had to stop somewhere, as the elves said, but whether there was one man at the top or a hundred, they could do little more than set a policy and rely on generals to issue orders based on them. Those generals in turn would rely on the discretion and judgment of the officers under them. This was the only way to mount a defense or prosecute a war in the modern world.
"I find the best thing to do," he said, "is simply to stay out of her way. She is capable and has a great love for her nation, and she accomplishes more for it doing as she pleases than she could or would if I set her to a specific task."
"I suppose once you award her the title of 'Empress', it would be difficult to discipline her," Reese said. "Again, I'm fortunate in being able to delegate that. Once I had First Wife trained, I could rely on her to keep the others in line."
Magisterion again said nothing.
"Now, this is not of course the purpose of my visit," the ambassador said, "but since I have the privilege of the imperial ear, I would like to say a few words on the matter of Malbus."
I'll just bet you would, Magisterion said, but aloud, he merely repeated his most diplomatic reply.
"The matter of Malbusian independence... as it's being characterized in the press... is really a strictly internal matter of the Mother City," Reese said carefully. "It is more a matter of reorganization... of clarification, really, of our duties and obligations to each other... than a substantive change in our relationship to Malbus, or our claims in the area."
"This has been conveyed to us many times," Magisterion said.
"Indeed? Well, I do not wish to overstate the case or give the appearance of greater importance than exists... but it must be understood that any overly aggressive act in response to a perceived vacuum created by the appearance of a withdrawal from the island of Malbus of our imperial aegis may be seen by certain factions within the Mother City as a hostile act against our empire."
"Naturally, we would not want that," Magisterion said. "We have been at peace for two hundred years."
"I suppose that seems like an eternity to you," Reese said.
"Hasn't it been?" Magisterion said. "Perhaps we should make it one."
"Peace has been a profitable policy for us to pursue," Reese said. "Our august emperor has long seen the benefit of having a self-sufficient trading partner across the sea. You know, he has told me in confidence that when he granted the provinces their independence, he saw it as an investment... and one that has paid off a thousandfold."
"I believe he saw an immediate return in the form of a reduction of the number of his troops killed and ships captured or sunk," Magisterion said. It was not a diplomatic thing to say, but he was an emperor, too. There were limits to how diplomatic he could reasonably be expected to be.
"Yes, well, there were many different factors behind his decision," Reese said. "The point I am trying to make is that it would be unfortunate to rock the boat at this point."
"In any event, you can give my assurances to your monarch that I have no intention of rocking any boats any time soon."
"Oh, thank you, but I assure you that I speak purely out of a personal interest in seeing the special relationship between our two powers preserved," Reese said. "His Imperial Majesty the Unnameable One has not empowered me to speak officially on matters pertaining to Malbus. Honestly, I doubt the issue is important enough for him to have even thought much on it."
Diplomacy was a strange game, Magisterion mused. There were so many things that Reese was evidently not allowed to say. He couldn't say that his emperor was anxious about what Magisterion might do when they started pulling out of their no-longer-profitable island holdings. He couldn't even say that the holdings weren't profitable or that they were pulling out. In the face of all these things that the man couldn't say, though, he kept talking.
Peace was a profitable policy because there was nothing to be gained from war. Neither empire stood to gain anything by conquering the other... the initial victory would cost too much, as would the task of maintaining control over a vast and resentful territory on the other side of a wide ocean.
[1 hour in. Shaping up.]
"Well," Magisterion XII, By the Arms And Sword of Khersis said, "I think this has been a productive visit."
He was seated on a divan that was more comfortable than it looked in one of the more private salons of the Palatium. Although black-suited Praetorian Guards were stationed outside the door and behind a concealed panel in the wall, he was alone in the room with a gaunt man whose skin had a slight bluish cast. He, the Emperor of Magisteria, was armed with both the sword and scepter of the realm and protected by some of the most potent wards ever cast. His guest was unarmed and had been subjected to some of the most potent negations and dispellings ever cast.
"Indeed, Your Majesty," the blue-tinged ambassador from the Mother Isles said. "I'm only sorry that her majesty your wife was indisposed. I hope she will be in a better humor for the reception tomorrow night. My wives have been quite interested in a chance to meet the fabled Purple Lady of the Westering Lands."
"Oh, they don't really call her that, do they?"
"Only the magazine covers do. And my wives, of course. Third Wife, in particular, is quite keen on her. Copies her hair styles, and all"
"I hesitate to show ignorance..."
"Oh, an emperor is never ignorant," the dignitary said. "He merely occasionally suffers from the negligence of his advisors."
"You know, I did not know that," Magisterion said. "Perhaps I should ask my cabinet why they never told me this?"
"Your Majesty's swift grasp of the principle is admirable."
"As you say. But I was not aware that plural marriage was legally recognized in the Mother Isles."
"It is not, in general. The exception is a hereditary privilege that I enjoy," he said. "This is one of the more agreeable things about an emperor who enjoys a, how shall we say, prolonged reign... when one outlasts the fads and changing fashions of the centuries, it inclines one to take a broader view with regards to things like tradition. So while 'progress' marches on according to the beating drum of public fancy, we are allowed to quietly enjoy the ways of older and wiser periods."
Magisterion said nothing to this, though he privately believed that referring to earlier ages as "older and wiser" was much like expecting a man of sixty to defer to the greater maturity of his twenty-year-old self. In dealing with diplomats, it was necessary to be diplomatic.
Lord Reese, of course, wasn't an ambassador from some little island holding or fiefdom sent to beg for aid from the Imperial Republic, or else he would be meeting with the IRM's own diplomats. He was a noble peer of the Empire of the Mother Isles, an entity so vast and well-established that it could refer to itself simply as the Empire and, within the human-occupied corners of the world, its meaning would be taken.
Of course, for the same reason that Magisterion didn't question Reese's judgment as to the maturity of the Empire's older ways, the representatives of the older empire didn't refer to themselves as the Empire when dealing with the Imperial Republic. Internally and to the rest of the world, they were the Empire and the Imperium; in deailngs between each other, they added qualifiers or used their other names.
The Mother Isles. The Mother City. The Old Empire.
Magisteria. The Imperial Republic. The New Empire.
"Naturally, there will be other opportunities for your lovely brides to make the acquaintance of mine," Magisterion said. "I believe your embassy posting is open-ended, is it not?"
"Oh, yes," the ambassador said. "But my first three wives are only here to see me settled in. The schedule is somewhat up in the air, but they'll be flying back to the isles before the spring to help oversee my estates and business interests there. I tell you, a wife is a wonderful thing for delegating... well, I don't have to tell you that, I suppose."
Again, Magisterion said nothing. It was the most diplomatic thing he knew how to say. He was not yet one hundred, and while he was not frail, he was old. He looked it, too. His two direct predecessors had both shared power with their wives, but they had been tall men who'd died before their hair turned white.
Magisterion's hair was white. His face was tightly-drawn in the way of an old man who has avoided sagging. He stood an officially unspecified number of inches below five and a half feet. The same small amount of dwarven blood that had left him at this height had also given him broad shoulders and a healthy constitution even at his advanced age, but people looked at an old man who relied on his wife differently than they did a younger one.
"I find the best thing to do," he said, "is simply to stay out of her way. She is capable and has a great love for her nation, and she accomplishes more for it doing as she pleases than she could or would if I set her to a specific task."
"I suppose once you award her the title of 'Empress', it would be difficult to discipline her," Reese said. "Again, I'm fortunate in being able to delegate that. Once I had First Wife trained, I could rely on her to keep the others in line."
Magisterion again said nothing.
"Now, this is not of course the purpose of my visit," the ambassador said, "but since I have the privilege of the imperial ear, I would like to say a few words on the matter of Malbus."
I'll just bet you would, Magisterion said, but aloud, he merely repeated his most diplomatic reply.
"The matter of Malbusian independence... as it's being characterized in the press... is really a strictly internal matter of the Mother City," Reese said carefully. "It is more a matter of reorganization... of clarification, really, of our duties and obligations to each other... than a substantive change in our relationship to Malbus, or our claims in the area."
"This has been conveyed to us many times," Magisterion said.
"Indeed? Well, I do not wish to overstate the case or give the appearance of greater importance than exists... but it must be understood that any overly aggressive act in response to a perceived vacuum created by the appearance of a withdrawal from the island of Malbus of our imperial aegis may be seen by certain factions within the Mother City as a hostile act against our empire."
[]
"Peace has been a profitable policy for us to pursue," Reese said. "Our august emperor has long seen the benefit of having a self-sufficient trading partner across the sea. You know, he has told me in confidence that when he granted the provinces their independence, he saw it as an investment... and one that has paid off a thousandfold."
"I believe he saw an immediate return in the form of a reduction of the number of his troops killed and ships captured or sunk," Magisterion said. It was not a diplomatic thing to say, but he was an emperor, too. There were limits to how diplomatic he could reasonably be expected to be.
"Yes, well, there were many different factors behind his decision," Reese said. "The point I am trying to make is that it would be unfortunate to rock the boat at this point."
"In any event, you can give my assurances to your monarch that I have no intention of rocking any boats any time soon."
"Oh, thank you, but I assure you that I speak purely out of a personal interest in seeing the special relationship between our two powers preserved," Reese said. "His Imperial Majesty the Unnameable One has not empowered me to speak officially on matters pertaining to Malbus. Honestly, I doubt the issue is important enough for him to have even thought much on it."
Diplomacy was a strange game, Magisterion mused. There were so many things that Reese was evidently not allowed to say. He couldn't say that his emperor was anxious about what Magisterion might do when they started pulling out of their no-longer-profitable island holdings. He couldn't even say that the holdings weren't profitable or that they were pulling out. In the face of all these things that the man couldn't say, though, he kept talking.
[0.5 hours. Just begun.]
"Well," Magisterion XII, By the Arms And Sword of Khersis said, "I think this has been a productive visit."
"Indeed, Your Majesty," the ambassador from the Mother Isles said. "I'm only sorry that your wife was indisposed. I hope she will be in a better humor for the reception. My wives have been quite interested in a chance to meet the fabled Purple Lady of the Westering Lands."
"Oh, they don't really call her that, do they?"
"Only the magazine covers do. And my wives, of course. Third Wife, in particular, is quite keen on her. Copies her hair styles, and all"
"I hesitate to show ignorance..."
"An emperor is never ignorant," the dignitary said. "He merely occasionally suffers from the negligence of his advisors."
"As you say. But I was not aware that plural marriage of humans was legally recognized in the Mother Isles."
"It is not, in general. The exception is a hereditary privilege that I enjoy," he said. "This is one of the more agreeable things about an emperor who enjoys a, how shall we say, prolonged reign... when one outlasts the fads and changing fashions of the centuries, it inclines one to take a broader view with regards to things like tradition. So while 'progress' marches on according to the beating drum of public fancy, we are allowed to quietly enjoy the ways of older and wiser periods."
Magisterion said nothing to this, though he privately believed that referring to earlier ages as "older and wiser" was much like expecting a man of sixty to defer to the greater maturity of his twenty-year-old self. In dealing with diplomats, it was necessary to be diplomatic.
Lord Reese, of course, wasn't an ambassador from some little island holding or fiefdom sent to beg for aid from the Imperial Republic, or else he would be meeting with the IRM's own diplomats. He was a noble peer of the Empire of the Mother Isles, an entity so vast and well-established that it could refer to itself simply as the Empire and, within the human-occupied corners of the world, its meaning would be taken.
Of course, for the same reason that Magisterion didn't question Reese's judgment as to the maturity of the Empire's older ways, the representatives of the older empire didn't refer to themselves as the Empire when dealing with the Imperial Republic. Internally and to the rest of the world, they were the Empire and the Imperium; in deailngs between each other, they added qualifiers or used their other names.
The Mother Isles. The Mother City. The Old Empire.
Magisteria. The Imperial Republic. The New Empire.
"Naturally, there will be other opportunities for your lovely brides to make the acquaintance of mine," Magisterion said. "I believe your embassy posting is open-ended, is it not?"
"Oh, yes," the ambassador said. "But my first three wives are only here to see me settled in. The schedule is somewhat up in the air, but they'll be flying back to the isles before the spring to help oversee my estates and business interests there. I tell you, a wife is a wonderful thing for delegating... well, I don't have to tell you that, I suppose."
Again, Magisterion said nothing. It was the most diplomatic thing he knew how to say. He was not yet one hundred, and while he was not frail, he was old. He looked it, too. His two direct predecessors had both shared power with their wives, but they had been tall men who'd died before their hair turned white.
Magisterion's hair was white. His face was tightly-drawn in the way of an old man who has avoided sagging. He stood an officially unspecified number of inches below five and a half feet. The same small amount of dwarven blood that had left him at this height had also given him broad shoulders and a healthy constitution even at his advanced age, but people looked at an old man who relied on his wife differently than they did a younger one.
"I find the best thing to do," he said, "is simply to stay out of her way. She is capable and has a great love for her nation, and she accomplishes more for it doing as she pleases than she could or would if I set her to a specific task."
"I suppose once you award her the title of 'Empress', it would be difficult to discipline her," Reese said. "Again, I'm fortunate in being able to delegate that. Once I had First Wife trained, I could rely on her to keep the others in line."
Magisterion again said nothing.
"Now, this is not of course the purpose of my visit," the ambassador said, "but since I have the privilege of the imperial ear, I would like to say a few words on the matter of Malbus."
I'll just bet you would, Magisterion said, but aloud, he merely repeated his most diplomatic reply.
"The matter of Malbusian independence... as it's being characterized in the press... is really a strictly internal matter of the Mother City," Reese said.