to dealings with foreign lands, and also to raise your awareness of another, small problem.”
The chancellor’s face never seemed to show any true emotion; his smile was obsequious, his frown aloof, his sorrow humdrum. And he always seemed to Edyon like he desperately needed to break wind but was holding it in.
Perhaps that’s his small problem.
“What problem?” Thelonius frowned.
“Talk, Your Highness. Rumors. Tittle-tattle. Relating to Edyon.” The chancellor winced as if the wind was causing much internal discomfort.
“Not more objections to Edyon being legitimized, I hope.” This came from Lord Regan, Thelonius’s dearest friend, the one man he’d entrusted to track down his son and deliver him safely to Calidor. Of course, that hadn’t gone according to plan, thanks to March . . .
But Edyon wouldn’t think of March now.
The chancellor turned to Regan and corrected him. “Actually, there were no objections to the legitimization, only concerns about a precedent being set.”
Regan nodded. “Of course, yes, concerns, not objections.”
“And we’ve resolved these already. We’ve set no precedent,” Thelonius interrupted.
“Quite so, Your Highness,” the chancellor agreed.
The first obstacle to Edyon’s legitimization was that Thelonius hadn’t been married to Edyon’s mother. A number of lords were concerned that putting Edyon next in line to the throne would allow all bastard sons to come forward, claiming lands and titles off the lords or off the lords’ sons. No one was safe. The system would crumble. Chaos would reign where there was now order.
Edyon had wondered how his father would deal with this difficult situation and assumed it would take weeks or months to consider and argue the legal points, but his father had swept the issue aside with ease. Thelonius had claimed that he’d married Edyon’s mother in a ceremony in Pitoria when they’d met. He said that they’d married and quickly divorced. The papers had been lost, but Thelonius had a diary of the events. Lord Regan, who’d traveled with him in Pitoria those eighteen years ago, had been called upon to confirm it all. And, as easily and quickly as that, the lie had become truth.
Edyon, however, found it less easy to confirm. He was surprised to discover that, although he could lie about most things, he couldn’t lie about his mother or his own birth. He was Thelonius’s illegitimate son. His parents had not been married, and his whole life had been shaped by that fact. It had made him who he was, and Edyon had always been determined not to be ashamed of it. When the chancellor had pressed him to confirm Thelonius’s lie, Edyon found that the most he could do was to not deny it. He’d argued, “I wasn’t there. I was in my mother’s womb. And she never spoke to me of it.” Edyon felt he could say only that, as none of it was an actual lie, but none of it was the whole truth either.
Edyon’s father had no such qualms and even embellished the lie one evening, admittedly after a few glasses of wine, talking of the wedding as if it had happened: “a simple affair, promises made, a beach, the sea, young lovers, but we were married.” He had looked into Edyon’s eyes with a smile. “And everyone agrees that you are my image. Your face, your stature—you are just as I was twenty years ago. It’s obvious that you are my son.” And that was true. At least there were no arguments, concerns, or objections about that.
“However, there are still apprehensions among the lords.” The chancellor’s voice interrupted Edyon’s thoughts.
“Ah, so it’s apprehensions now,” Regan murmured.
“The lords are always apprehensive.” Thelonius sighed and looked to Edyon, adding, “About money, about power, about the future.”
And now about me.
“And we must always be careful to soothe their concerns,” the chancellor continued. “The letter that Edyon brought from Pitoria, the request to join forces with Pitoria, again raises the fear that Calidor may lose its independence to a stronger neighbor. It’s an old fear but no less compelling for its age, Your Highness. There are concerns that any partnership with Pitoria would be unequal, as Pitoria, a far bigger and more populous country than Calidor, will dominate. What may start as aid may end with us being infiltrated and overpowered.”
“An argument we had in the last war many times,” Thelonius said.
“When we fought alone, stood firm alone, and were victorious alone,” Lord Regan added.
“And these concerns have returned, stronger than ever. The lords need to know that Calidor will remain independent. They need to know