David Weber - Worlds of Honor

He paused to wipe sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

"I'm Daniel Chou."

"With the Security Ministry, Captain Adderson implied."

Chou grinned. "Captain Adderson must have liked you. I don't suppose I'm violating any rules by confirming your guess. After all, you will be the Prince Consort—and, more importantly, Queen Elizabeth trusts you."

Oddly, Justin felt himself coloring. There was something about the little man's brash manner that made him feel like a boy at his grandfather's knee. Given the changes of the last twenty-four hours, the feeling was not at all unpleasant.

"Shall we hoof it back to the landing strip?" Chou said. "Or do you need to do more looking about?"

Justin glared at the blue salt as if it was deliberately trying to hide the truth from him.

"I'm not certain there's anything to look for," he said.

Chou nodded. "Not here, although we had to look. We may have more luck inspecting the remains of the grav ski."

"Why should we do that?" Justin asked, reluctant to take anyone into his confidence without Elizabeth's express permission.

"For evidence," Chou answered. His grey eyes had stopped twinkling. "Evidence to prove King Roger was murdered. Certainly you don't believe his death was an accident, do you?"

Everyone rose and bowed as Queen Elizabeth III entered the council chamber. Tellingly, to a long-time political observer like Duke Cromarty, she accepted the monarch's homage as her due. The fact that she'd been Crown Princess all of her life might explain part of that calm demeanor, but the Prime Minister thought there was something more here.

She might be a girl of eighteen, but she was savvy enough to know that those who had raised her might find it difficult to recall that she was their ruler now. By accepting the homage as offered, she was reminding them all who made the final decisions.

After the Queen had greeted them, Dame Eliska brought the informal regent's council around to business.

"This morning's coronation went well. My polls, formal and informal, show that support for the Queen is high in both houses of Parliament. The sooner the matters of Regent and Regency Council are resolved, the more likely they are to be resolved easily and in the Queen's best interest."

Elizabeth nodded. "I have reviewed your recommendations for Regent and I think they are all sound." Even her voice was different, Cromarty thought. She spoke with a deliberate precision, an air of maturity which was new to her yet far too natural, too . . . inevitable, to be feigned. "Duke Cromarty, do you have anything to add?" she asked, and he cleared his throat.

"Yes, actually, I do. Apparently, there's some resistance to the idea of having either your mother or your aunt serve as Regent."

The Queen Mother started. "I protest! There is a long tradition of—"

Elizabeth interrupted her mother with a gentle hand to her arm.

"I need to hear what the Prime Minister has to say," she said in that same, new voice. "Allen, I am intrigued by your use of the words `mother' and `aunt' to describe two of the candidates for Regent. Normally, you observe protocol to a fault. Is there a reason?"

The Prime Minister nodded. "Yes, I chose those words because they reflect precisely the scuttlebutt I've heard. The concern being expressed is that someone as close kin to the Queen as the Queen Mother or Duchess Winton-Henke might not be in a position to advise but might try to rule in your stead."

"Bluntly put," Elizabeth said, "the concern is that I will be dominated by my mother or my aunt."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"A pity," Elizabeth mused. "I had just about made up my mind that Aunt Caitrin would be an ideal Regent. No offense, Mother, but I do think it would be difficult for us to distance ourselves from our established roles."

The Queen Mother looked hurt for a moment, but then she smiled.

"I agree. It might indeed be hard for me to stop thinking as your mother—and as Roger's wife. You don't need a Regent who might be inclined to say `But your father would have done it this way.' "

Elizabeth squeezed her mother's hand. "Thank you for understanding. I have reviewed this council's other suggestions and, while I have nothing personal against any of the Crown Loyalist candidates you indicated, I would prefer to have Aunt Caitrin. Your Grace, do you think the Henke holdings can spare you?"

Caitrin Winton-Henke nodded. "They can. The Earl of Gold Peak is quite able to discharge his responsibilities without me."

"Very good."

Elizabeth thoughtfully stroked Ariel for a moment before continuing.

"I haven't forgotten the concern Duke Cromarty reported." Her smile became impish. "I believe the only way to defuse it is to nominate a candidate who would be unacceptable to Parliament for some reason. When the fuss over the first candidate has died down and Parliament has been reluctantly forced to reject my suggestion, then I can nominate Aunt Caitrin. If Dame Eliska is correct, the general desire of Parliament is to support me. Rejecting a second Regent—especially one so well-trained for the job—would go against that general impulse."

A moment of silence fell while the council digested both the plan and the new Queen's willingness to indulge in political manipulation. Duke Cromarty raised a hand.

"Yes, Your Grace?"

"That is very clever, Your Majesty, but what if Parliament confirms your first candidate?"

"There's a simple way to handle that possibility," Elizabeth answered. "I make certain that whomever I nominate is someone who can function in the role—and someone who will be willing to step down for Aunt Caitrin after a bit of time has passed."

"You would need to trust that person a great deal," Duke Cromarty warned. "I expect you have someone in mind."

The Queen nodded, a hint of a grin twitching the corners of her mouth.

"I do indeed." She gestured across the table. "My Lord Chamberlain, Lord Wundt."

"Your Majesty!" Jacob Wundt exclaimed. "I am not fit for the role of Regent!"

Elizabeth smiled at the thin old man.

"You are more fit than many," she said. "As Lord Chamberlain you served and advised both my father and my grandmother. You are a valued asset to the House of Winton. Moreover, I can convincingly speak both of my trust in you and in your irreproachable loyalty to the Kingdom."

"But—!"

The Lord Chamberlain's new protest was cut short by Dame Eliska. She looked up from the figures she had been entering into her computer pad and her smile was broad.

"I believe that Queen Elizabeth's choice will function just as she hopes. I've done some preliminary demographic analysis and the Lord Chamberlain should be rejected, but only after sufficient debate that Duchess Winton-Henke would be confirmed easily."

"And," Duke Cromarty said, "if Lord Wundt is confirmed, he would be a sound Regent. After some months of service, he could claim that his advanced years make him unable to continue. If we wait to make that announcement until some minor crisis requires that the Queen have a Regent in place quickly, then Duchess Winton-Henke should be confirmed without protest."

The Lord Chamberlain's mouth was opening and shutting, but no noise was coming forth.

"Without some gambit like this," Duke Cromarty continued, "I'm uncertain that either the Queen Mother or the Duchess would be confirmed as Regent. I'm at a loss to explain this sudden surge of anti-nepotism—anyone who knows the Lords knows that nepotism is the way of the aristocracy—but it is present."