The Goblin Emperor Read Online Free PDF Page A

familiar with the court to choose his own Lord Chancellor, and he feared that time might be far distant.
    And Chavar did a passable job of pretending chagrin. “Serenity, we most humbly beg your pardon for our oversight. The princes, if we send messengers today, cannot arrive before the twenty-third.”
    As we know from your letter, Maia did not say, and he saw acknowledgment of that in Chavar’s eyes. The Lord Chancellor said, “Serenity. We will put preparations in train for your coronation at midnight of the twenty-fourth.” It was an offer of truce, no matter how obliquely or grudgingly offered, and Maia accepted it as such.
    “We thank you,” he said, and gestured Chavar to his feet. “And the funeral on the twenty-fifth? Or can preparations be made for the twenty-fourth?”
    “Serenity,” Chavar said with a half bow. “The twenty-fourth is achievable.”
    “Then let it be so.” Chavar was almost at the door when Maia remembered something else: “What of the other victims?”
    “Serenity?”
    “The others on board the Wisdom of Choharo. What arrangements are being made on their behalf?”
    “The emperor’s nohecharei will of course be buried with him.”
    Chavar was not being deliberately obstructive, Maia saw; he genuinely didn’t understand.
    “And the pilot? The others ?”
    “Crew and servants, Serenity,” Chavar said, baffled. “There will be a funeral this afternoon at the Ulimeire.”
    “We will attend.”
    That had both Setheris and Chavar staring at him. “They are as much dead as our father,” Maia said. “We will attend.”
    “Serenity,” Chavar said with another hasty bow, and left. Maia wondered if he was beginning to suspect his new emperor of insanity.
    Setheris, of course, had no doubts; he had aired his views on the perniciousness of Chenelo’s influence more than once. But he forbore to speak, merely rolling his eyes.
    Csevet had not yet returned, and Maia had a use for this breathing space. “Cousin,” he said, “would you have our father’s Master of Wardrobe sent to us?”
    “Serenity,” Setheris said with a bow as perfunctory as Chavar’s, and went out. Maia took the opportunity to stand, to try to ease the harp-string tension of his muscles. “Not all hands will be against thee,” he whispered to himself, but he feared it for a lie. He rested his elbows on the mantel, his head in his hands, and tried to conjure in his mind the sunrise seen from the Radiance of Cairado, but it was blurred and dull, as if seen through a pane of dirty glass.
    There was a hesitant tap at the door, an even more hesitant voice saying, “Ser … Serenity?”
    Maia turned. A middle-aged man, tall and stooped, with the mild, nervous expression of a rabbit. “You are our Master of Wardrobe?”
    “Serenity,” the man said, bowing deeply. “We … we so served your late father, and so will serve you, an it be your pleasure.”
    “Your name?”
    “Clemis Atterezh, Serenity.” Maia saw nothing but anxiety to please in his face or stance, heard nothing but diffidence and nerves in his voice.
    “We will be crowned at midnight on the twenty-fourth,” he said. “Our father and brothers’ funeral will be that day. But today there is the funeral for the other victims, which we wish to attend.”
    “Serenity,” Atterezh said politely, uncomprehending.
    “What does an uncrowned emperor wear to a public funeral?”
    “Oh!” Atterezh advanced slightly into the room. “You cannot wear full imperial white, and court mourning is inappropriate … and you certainly can’t wear that. ”
    At the cost of a savagely bitten lip, Maia did not giggle. Atterezh said, “We will see what can be done, Serenity. Do you know when the funeral is to be held?”
    “No,” Maia said, and cursed himself for his stupidity.
    “We will ascertain,” Atterezh said. “And when it is convenient to Your Serenity, we are at your disposal to discuss your new wardrobe.”
    “Thank you,” Maia said.