David Weber - Hell Hath No Fury

"Oh, don't worry about that!" Kinlafia chuckled. "Did I forget to mention that I never learned to dance?" His brown eyes danced wickedly. "Trust me, as soon as I've crushed a few ladies' delicate toes, you won't have any trouble at all keeping me all to yourself!"

"Voice Kinlafia?"

Alazon had been about to reply when the voice from behind cut them off. They stopped, looking over their shoulders, and saw an armsman in the green and gold of the Caliraths, who bowed to them both with grave courtesy.

"Your pardon, Voice Kinlafia, but His Majesty would be very grateful for a few moments of your time."

Kinlafia's mouth felt suddenly dry, and his pulse rate picked up.

"Of course," he said quickly. "Would now be a convenient time for him?"

"He hoped you could come promptly," the armsman agreed, and Kinlafia turned to peck a quick kiss on Alazon's cheek.

"I'll see you again as soon as I can, my dear," he told her. "After all, we have that delightful appointment with the tailor this afternoon, don't we?"

Alazon smiled at him, then nodded and released his arm. He gave her an answering smile before he turned to the armsman and beckoned for the other man to lead the way. He followed the armsman down the passageway, and as he went, he felt Alazon's warm, loving touch on his mind and heart.

"Thank you for coming, Darcel."

Kinlafia's left eyebrow rose very slightly as Zindel chan Calirath turned from the view through his study windows to greet his guest. So far, the Emperor had always been careful to begin any interview or conversation with Kinlafia by greeting him formally, as "Voice Kinlafia." For a moment, Kinlafia wondered if today's change was some sort of deliberate tactic on Zindel's part, but then he felt that same mysterious something he'd felt at their very first meeting radiating from the Emperor. Using his given name hadn't been any sort of ploy; it was simply a measure of Zindel's concern that he'd forgotten the formal courtesy. And it was also, Kinlafia realized, a reflection of Zindel's awareness that whatever else might happen in this universe or any other, Darcel Kinlafia would face it at his daughter's side.

"Yes," Zindel said, almost as if he'd been the Voice, reading Kinlafia's surface thoughts, "it's about Andrin."

"Your Majesty, I'm sure there are other-" Kinlafia began, but then he stopped himself. There was no point in pretending, not when Zindel was as aware as he himself was of the bizarre fashion in which he had shared in the Emperor's Glimpse.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he said instead. "It would be pretty foolish, I suppose, to pretend I don't know what you're talking about. Of course," he managed a smile of sorts, "understanding it is something else again!"

"I'm sorry, too, Darcel," Zindel said with simple sincerity.

He walked over to the chair behind his desk and sank into it, then waved for Kinlafia to be seated in another chair at the end of the desk, close enough for comfortable conversation. Kinlafia was well aware that one was not supposed to sit in the Emperor's presence, yet it seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to accept the invitation. He sat, cocking his head to one side, and waited for Zindel to explain why he'd been summoned.

It took the Emperor several seconds of uncharacteristic hesitation, then he cleared his throat.

"I'm sure you've figured out by now that Janaki had more than one reason for suggesting you run for office," he said.

"Your Majesty, I realized that the first time he made the suggestion," Kinlafia replied. "I didn't ask him what those other reasons were, although perhaps I should have. But I knew they were there."

"And you accepted his suggestion anyway." The fleetingness of Zindel's smile seemed to shout his anxiety to the Voice. "It must have been that damned Calirath 'magnetism,'"thinspace"" the Emperor continued. "Janaki always has had more than his fair share of it."

"I think they issue it with your birth certificates, actually, Your Majesty." Kinlafia produced a small smile of his own, although he was beginning to suspect that what he'd just said came very close to being the literal truth.

"Well, at any rate," Zindel said, "after our little shared experience at dinner, I strongly suspect-no, I don't suspect; I know-that you've figured out at least a part of what Janaki's other reasons were."

"Yes, I have, I think," Kinlafia admitted. "And if you'll pardon my saying so, Your Majesty, it scares the ever-living shit out of me. It's so far above anything I ever thought of as being my pay grade that I get a nosebleed just thinking about it."

"You'll get over it."

It could have been a simple conversational throwaway, and it could have been a condescension, but it was neither. It was a simple statement of fact, as if the Emperor had mentioned that the sun was likely to rise somewhere in the east tomorrow morning.

"I certainly hope you're right about that … even if it does seem a little unlikely at the moment."

Zindel chuckled, but then he shook his head and leaned slightly towards Kinlafia.

"Janaki's Talent isn't as strong as mine," he said, "and mine isn't as strong as Andrin's." His sea-gray eyes, so much like his son's and his elder daughter's, seemed to hold unquiet ghosts as his gaze met Kinlafia's. "In fact, I'm coming to the conclusion that Andrin has one of the truly legendary Talents. Her Glimpses are far stronger than mine ever were, far less than mine were at her age. I'm very much afraid that for her, like for many of her ancestors, her Talent's very strength is going to be the curse she bears.

As an Emperor, I'm delighted to see it, grateful it will be available to serve my people's need. As a father, I would sell my soul to protect her from it."

He fell silent, those gray eyes looking at something only they could see. He sat that way for several seconds before he inhaled again, deeply, and his eyes snapped back into focus.

"I suppose it's just as well for the Empire-and all of Sharona-that I can't protect her from her own Talent. But what Janaki Glimpsed fragments of, what I've Glimpsed in more detail, tells me she'll need you, Darcel. I don't pretend to know all of the reasons, all the ways in which you'll be there for her over the years. That isn't the way Glimpses work, especially for a member of the Glimpser's own family. But I know, beyond any question or doubt, that my daughter will come to love you as deeply as she's ever loved anyone in her life, and that you'll return that love just as deeply as if she had been the daughter of your own flesh. I know that, Darcel, but what I don't know is what the cost for you will be."

Kinlafia sat very quietly, looking into the eyes of the man who would become his Emperor in less than forty-eight hours. And as he did, he realized Zindel chant Calirath was already "his" Emperor.

"Your Majesty, I don't have any more idea about that than you do, and I won't say I don't care what the

'cost' will be. But I will say that, yes, I did share your Glimpse. And given what I Saw when I did, I'll pay that cost, whatever it is."

"Thank you," Zindel said with quiet, deep sincerity. "A father always wants-needs-to be there for his daughter. I hope to be there for many years to come for Andrin, as for Razial and Anbessa. But having Seen you and Andrin in my Glimpse, I know that if for some reason I can't be there, she will still have you, and that's one of the very few visions my Talent has ever given me which are unalloyed sources of relief and happiness.

"However, the reason I asked you to visit me this morning," he continued more briskly, "is that I'm certain you've noticed that both Andrin and I have been more tense than usual over the past several days.

And, as I'm almost equally certain you've deduced, that tension has been the result of a Glimpse we've shared.