by Brenda Hiatt
“I must agree with our esteemed Interim Governor. While he has done an admirable job during the difficult weeks immediately following Faxon’s fall from power, it is now time for Nuath to unify. I hope, under the leadership of Sovereign Emileia, we can all pull together to complete the work Nels began. Princess, if you are listening, please accept my sincere apology for any criticisms I previously voiced.”
“My apologies, as well, Princess,” Nels echoed. If I hadn’t seen it this morning, I might not have noticed the fear still lingering in his eyes. “We hope to hear from you or your representative soon so that all necessary arrangements can be made for your Acclamation.”
“Do they mean it? Can it really be that easy?” I exclaimed, not quite daring to believe.
“It’s what they agreed to this morning,” Mr. O assured me, “though once the Grentl threat is averted they’ll want favors in return. Devyn implied he’d like to be considered for Regent. But the important thing now is to get you Acclaimed and into the Palace.” He pulled up the screen of his omni and a moment later, Nels Murdoch’s face appeared in midair between us.
“I presume you heard?” The fear he’d mostly hidden while on camera was more evident now. “You’ve made your point, so let’s move quickly, shall we? I recommend you contact the Elections Minister as soon as possible to make the necessary arrangements. Good luck, Princess.” He cut the connection before I could thank him.
I glanced at Mr. O, confused. “Doesn’t my approval rating still need to be above eighty percent?”
“Traditionally, yes, though I’d be surprised if…ah, look, they’re already putting up the latest numbers.”
In a dramatic turnaround, my rating had jumped from barely over 50% to 83%. Neither Nels’s nor Devyn’s names appeared at all now and, while Gordon’s was still there, he had a mere 12% rating, even worse than Crevan Erc’s 19%.
“Excellent.” Mr. O’Gara placed another call and a youngish woman appeared on the screen. “Princess Emileia!” she exclaimed, her face reflecting none of Nels’s fear. “I’m Deirdra Scully, recently appointed acting Minister of Elections. The Interim Governor told me to expect your call. Are you ready to declare for Acclamation?”
Her enthusiasm made me smile in spite of myself. “Yes, I am. How soon can the vote be held?”
“According to the protocols, your official declaration must first be announced throughout Nuath, after which twelve hours must elapse before the vote. Probably a holdover from when communication was less instantaneous, but it’s still in the rules.”
“Can the official declaration go out tonight, then? To start the, um, clock ticking?” The important one already was ticking, but she didn’t know that.
“Certainly. I’m sending the text to you now. All you have to do is read it back to me. I’ll capture it, then make the broadcast through the government channel that everyone is required to carry. It will display instantly, then again at two hour intervals until the vote is held.”
The text of the official declaration—in Martian—popped up on my screen. I had a sudden, vain temptation to check my hair and makeup before reading it, but that would waste more precious time. Taking a deep breath, I pinned a smile on my face and immediately started reading aloud.
“Me Banfriansa Emileia go hofiguill is run dom teacht i chorioin eri Thiarna ar barr Nuath.” (Which, roughly translated, meant “I, Princess Emileia, do formally declare my intention to ascend to the position of Sovereign of Nuath.”)
Deirdra did something on her end I couldn’t see, then I heard my declaration repeated back to me. I winced a little—I always hated how my recorded voice sounded—but Deirdra smiled brightly.
“Perfect! I can see you’ve worked hard to master Nuathan, Excellency, even though English is almost universally spoken now, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“I have, yes. And thank you. So what happens next?”
She glanced down, then back up at me. “I’m feeding your declaration into the government channel now. It’s nearly seven-thirty, so the vote can be held any time after seven-thirty tomorrow morning.”
“And it stays open for three hours, correct? Let’s have it start right at seven-thirty, then.”
For a second she looked startled, but then nodded. “Very well, seven-thirty it is. People can vote before leaving for work. They’ll have just breakfasted, which should help to assure a favorable vote, not that I imagine it would be otherwise, now the others have withdrawn their opposition.” She was smiling again.
“Thank you so much for your assistance, Deirdra. Please let me know if anything else is required of me.”
“It has been my very great honor, Excellency! You’ll hear from the Interim Governor to arrange for your Accession and Installation after the vote has taken place.”
Within minutes of my declaration airing on the official channel, it was the main story on all the networks, interrupted by occasional reports of additional, mercifully minor, damage around the colony. We kept watching while we ate dinner, all of us with better appetites now.
Both Nels and Devyn made more statements about what a good thing this was for Nuath. To my dismay, they also both claimed that after this morning’s procedure they were convinced that Rigel was out of the picture for good, and that Sean and I were forming the “necessary bonds” to lead as Sovereign and Royal Consort.
The networks responded by re-showing—again!—every cozy-looking moment Sean and I had shared on camera over the past week and gushing about what a perfect couple we made. I hoped Rigel wasn’t watching.
“And now, back to the studio for another look at the polls. Early indications are that better than eighty-seven percent will vote in favor of Acclamation tomorrow morning.”
We all turned in early since Mr. O assured us we’d have a very long, busy day tomorrow. Before getting into bed, I sent another encrypted message to Rigel, apologizing again for the stupid stuff on the news and promising that the moment I was officially Sovereign I’d make his grandmother send him to the Palace. I hoped it would reach him, since he still hadn’t responded to my last message.
The only thing that finally calmed me enough for sleep was vowing to get Rigel back by my side within the next day or two. No matter how much his grandmother or anyone else disapproved.
When my alarm woke me at six-thirty the next morning, I was deep in a disturbing dream in which Rigel was trapped in a cage, insisting that his grandmother had made him swallow the only key. Relieved to find that problem, at least, wasn’t real, I jumped out of bed. Ignoring the nice outfit Molly had laid out for me the night before, I threw on my old Earth jeans and t-shirt and hurried down to breakfast so I wouldn’t miss any of the voting reports.
And got sent right back upstairs by Mr. O’Gara.
“You’ll be expected to do a few quick interviews they can show while the voting is going on and you may have to respond to your remaining detractors. You need to look the part, especially until the last votes are in. It will also be good practice for…afterward.”
Even though he was right, I grumbled as I followed Molly back to my room to be properly decked out in a silvery green tunic and flowing pants of deeper green. Then she fussed with my hair until I insisted it was fine.
“I won’t look very regal if I’m still stuffing my face for the first interview. Let me go down and eat something, okay?”
She stepped back, looking hurt. I immediately apologized, but she just smiled and shook her head.
“No, it’s fine. You have to be way more nervous than I am. C’mon.”
Sure enough, when I finally got back to the breakfast table, my stomach was too jumpy for me to eat much of anything. I told myself this wasn’t nearly as bad as when I’d waited for the Echtran Council to vote on Rigel’s fate, back in December. This was practically a sure thing, in comparison.
I couldn’t relax, though, until the first returns came in at a quarter to eight, overwhelmingly in favor of Acclamation. Everyone in the big living room—the th
ree O’Garas and even Cormac—let out a cheer. I just let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“Things are getting lively here in the Governmental Center,” the reporter Moya said from in front of the Royal Palace. Behind her, a few anti-Royal protestors waved signs, but most of the crowd seemed to be in a celebratory mood. “Let’s see if we can get the Princess’s take on how the vote is going, shall we?”
Mr. O’s omni buzzed a second later. “Ready?” he asked, his hand hovering over it. Taking a fortifying breath, I nodded.
“Thank you so much for speaking with us on this momentous morning, Princess,” Moya said directly to me—and all of Nuath. “You must be pleased with these early returns, but what do you think of the continuing claims some are making that you are too young and inexperienced to lead?”
“Good morning, Moya.” I was momentarily distracted—and a little freaked—to see my face in an inset over her shoulder. “I, um, yes, I’m delighted that the Nuathan people seem ready to have a Sovereign in place again. As for my age and lack of experience, I fully intend to surround myself with advisors who are both older and wiser than I am, as we begin the task of rebuilding the government that Faxon so foolishly dismantled.”
“Well said, Excellency.” Moya smiled into the camera. “I hope we can speak with you again as this morning’s vote progresses.”
“It will be my pleasure.” Not exactly true, but I’d do whatever I had to.
They went back to counting votes, tallying up the returns by fine as well as by region, city, town and village. It reminded me of CNN back home during the last Presidential election night, right down to the maps and graphs.
As the voting went on, the numbers continued to trend in my favor. In fact, by nine o’clock, with the time allotted for the vote only half over, nearly 90% of the vote was already in, with 86% in favor of Acclamation.
I’d given two more quick statements by then in response to Moya’s questions—though it seemed more like she just wanted to fill air time than get any real info from me—and Nels Murdoch had been on as well. Now his face popped up again, looking genuinely pleased.
“Yes, it’s clear now that our Princess will be Acclaimed Sovereign. Given that, I very much hope that all of our people will unite in their unwavering support for her, and that no prior considerations will cause any person or group to attempt to undermine our new leader. I, at least, will treat this historic event as a cause for celebration.”
At ten-thirty the vote closed with over 97% accounted for, the remaining 3% apparently comprised of those still in the hospital and a few technophobes who abstained on principle. 86.2% had voted for Acclamation. At one minute past eleven, I read the traditional acceptance speech (in Martian), then added a brief bit (in English) that Mr. O had helped me to write between interviews.
“Truly, I am both honored and humbled by your faith in me and will do everything in my power to justify it. I absolutely agree with everything I just read to you about honoring the vision and sacrifice of my ancestors and putting the good of Nuath ahead of my own personal interests. And I plan to get started right away on the first steps toward bringing our people into their best possible future. Thank you.”
I disconnected from the direct link into the colony-wide news feed, then sat back and looked around at the others, still feeling more than a little bit stunned.
I was now really, truly, officially, Sovereign and supreme leader of Mars! I was finally going to get Rigel back!
And I had just over forty-eight hours to stop the Grentl from killing us all.
CHAPTER 34
Thiaraway (thee-ah-rah-WAY) (pop. 81,155): capital city and center of Nuath; seat of Nuathan government; traditional home of Royal family
Mr. O pulled out his omni and stood. “I’ll have Nels Murdoch let the Palace staff know we’re on our way. Normally they’d take days to prepare everything for your arrival and Accession, but we obviously can’t wait. I suggest you all go pack.”
Half an hour later, the five of us said goodbye to our sumptuous temporary quarters and headed for the Royal Palace, a place I’d only seen in pictures…and in my dreams. My heart beat faster as we approached Thiaraway. It wasn’t as large as Monaru, the big industrial city to the south, but it was more imposing, its crystalline skyscrapers visible from more than a mile away.
When we reached the outskirts, people were already lining the main thoroughfare into town, waving flags and what must have been very hastily-prepared banners of welcome. I was reminded of Bailerealta when I heard chants of “Faoda byo Thiarna Emileia!” along with the English version, “Long live Sovereign Emileia!” There were also scattered shouts of “Allegiance to the Sovereign,” and even, “We love you!”
Despite my anxiety over what lay ahead, my heart swelled and my eyes prickled with unshed tears of gratitude that I could inspire such a display of emotion from these people. My people. People only I could protect.
Touching the control that switched my window from tinted to transparent, I smiled and waved at the crowds as we slowly made our way toward the Palace. The people responded, waving back frantically and chattering excitedly to each other. For the first time ever, I felt like maybe I could get used to this kind of rock-star treatment.
Assuming, of course, that I could keep every last one of us from being buried under a gazillion tons of rubble the day after tomorrow.
Don’t lose sight of the goal, I told myself firmly before the adulation could go to my head. Then we turned the last corner and I gasped in wonder. All thoughts of rock-star-ness and even my goal vanished. Up close, the Royal Palace was even more splendiferous, more breathtaking, than I’d imagined, its pink crystal facade and fantastical spires sparkling like diamonds in the faux sunlight. No wonder this image had stuck in my infant brain when nothing else had, spawning the dreams and fantasies of my childhood.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Molly murmured. “I’d forgotten…I haven’t seen it since I was little.”
“Spectacular.” I stared like I’d never drink it in deeply enough as it filled my whole field of vision, more and more exquisite details becoming visible. To think I’d actually lived here when I was a baby…that I might live here again! Suddenly the idea of staying on Mars didn’t seem completely terrible—as long as I could have Rigel with me.
Just like at the guest house, a previously invisible door appeared at the bottom of the castle and we drove down a long, winding tunnel that opened into an underground parking lot many times larger than our one in Tullymayne. A man and a woman in matching uniforms greeted the car with synchronized bows, fists over hearts. The man opened the car doors and, at some silent signal, two other men appeared to whisk our bags into a lift. The woman bowed again, this time specifically to me.
“It is the honor of a lifetime to welcome you back to the Royal Palace, Excellency! I am Sheila, head housekeeper, and this is Powell, head butler. If you will come this way, I will show you to the Royal chambers.” She led us to a separate elevator, this one with crystal and gold detailing.
“The Interim Governor sent word that your official Accession might occur as early as this afternoon, but surely you would prefer to settle in for a few days before taking on official duties?”
What I might prefer was irrelevant. “Thank you, Sheila, but no, any time after lunch will be fine.”
If she was startled, she hid it well. Leading us through an enormous, glittering reception hall, then down an opulently paneled and carpeted passage, Sheila indicated a hallway on the right. “Your Consort and his father can lodge in the Royal family quarters. The Sovereign’s apartments are this way.”
Motioning for Molly and Cormac to follow her, I hung back for a moment, putting a hand on Sean’s arm. “You haven’t said a word since we reached Thiaraway,” I murmured, so softly even his dad couldn’t hear. “What’s wrong?”
He shrugged. “Just…wondering how long before you make them bring Rigel here.”
Conscious of Mr. O watching us cu
riously from a few paces away, I managed not to frown. “You get why I have to, don’t you, Sean? If having him here can help me—”
“Yeah. I guess. Just…don’t forget what really matters, okay?”
Sean’s mention of Rigel made me long for him so fiercely, it was a physical pain in my chest. Unable to answer, I just nodded to Sean, then hurried after the others, already waiting in front of a set of ornate double doors.
“Sorry! You could have gone on in.”
“Only you can open these doors, Excellency,” Sheila corrected me. “They are keyed to the Royal Sovereign bloodline. If you’ll place your palm here?” She indicated a smooth spot in the center of the right-hand door.
At my touch, the doors silently parted in the middle, sliding back into the walls to reveal a big room furnished in muted shades of purple and gold with deeply upholstered chairs and sofas, highly polished tables and crystalline sculptures everywhere. It was gorgeous, the very height of decadence.
“If only I can open the door, does that mean no one’s been in here since…since my grandfather died?” I asked. “Faxon didn’t use these quarters?”
“There is a service entrance, used by trusted staff for cleaning and maintenance, which your Handmaid and Bodyguard will also be able to use. Faxon—” Sheila primmed her lips as she said his name— “did insist on using these apartments at first, via that entrance, but soon moved to other quarters, claiming they were more comfortable. Certain amenities, such as the hot-water shower, bedroom and office vidscreens, and various storage vaults are only usable by those of the ruling bloodline,” she clarified in response to my puzzled expression.
“Ah.” The poetic justice made me smile.
As Sheila proceeded to give me a tour of my new digs, I felt increasingly overwhelmed. Every place I’d stayed since leaving Jewel had been bigger and more luxurious than the last, but this put all the others to shame. The Royal Apartments consisted of twelve rooms, including private bedrooms for Molly, Cormac and at least three other attendants, a nursery, two offices, one for me and one for my eventual Consort, a “private” dining chamber for twelve, two parlors and of course my own absurdly opulent bedroom. Not to mention half a dozen cupboards and safes that only I could open and enough closet space for a good-sized village.
