Estiane bowed at Paet, but said nothing, his face red with anger. Paet smiled and left, shutting the door behind him.
'I am outraged,' said Estiane, before Everess had a chance to speak. 'I am stunned! I can barely form the words to express the horror I am feeling right now.'
Everess looked at Estiane, trying to hide his contempt. Was hypocrisy a requirement for high religious office? Or was it merely a common accompaniment?
'I trust you do not approve of my methods.'
'Your methods,' hissed Estiane. 'You had a man killed. It is your murders I do not approve of.'
Everess stood and walked to the window of his office, which overlooked the Promenade. 'You came to me,' he said. 'You wished to barter your Arcadian intelligence for a bit of influence.'
'That's right,' said Estiane. 'Influence. Not assassination.'
'`Everess,' you said. `The secretary of states is causing grief for the Arcadians. She refuses to address the persecution of our adherents in the worlds in which the Seelie have influence.' Is this not so?'
'I have a sacred duty to protect those in my charge,' said Estiane. 'I understand that this sometimes requires compromise. I am willing to accept the moral taint that accompanies such things. I will be held accountable by Aba for that. But I will not be a party to murder!'
Everess whirled on him. 'How noble of you!' he said. 'You will suffer the ethical opprobrium from on high, on behalf of your people. You will happily make yourself a martyr. But when it comes to the required actions, you suddenly want no part. You want the effect, but you will not be a party to the cause!'
'I demand that you confess to this crime. If you confess then Aba will forgive you,' said Estiane.
'You are in no position to demand anything of me,' said Everess. 'If I resigned today as foreign minister, there is no one to take my place that would give your church the time of day. Your influence in Corpus would drop to zero. And then all of this will have been for nothing.'
'Not this way,' said Estiane. 'I do not want it at this price.'
'Of course not. You want your crops to grow, but you do not want your hands in the dirt. It doesn't work that way.'
Everess poured himself a drink and took a sip before continuing. 'Now listen, Abbot. The most likely replacement for the secretary would be Lord Palial. You know Lord Palial, of course, because he is one of your most ardent disciples. In secret, of course, but such is the way of the world.'
Estiane thought this over. 'This is not ended, Lord Everess. By no means. And let me be very clear. If I ever hear of you doing something like this on my alleged behalf again, I will confess to this act myself, and the consequences be damned!'
Everess laughed. 'Such consequences are always damned, Abbot. That is the price we pay as men of action.'
Estiane spewed a few more complaints and empty threats and then stormed out just as he'd stormed in. But he'd accepted what had happened just as Everess had known he would. So insidious, this sort of thing was. A slippery slope, as they said. Within five years the abbot himself would be sticking the knife in.
Everess picked up the fat little Nymaen statue. The antiquities dealer who'd sold it to him claimed that rubbing its belly was good luck. 'Luck is for amateurs,' he told the statue, replacing it on his desk.
Given time, all wonders become ordinary, and cease to be wonders.
-Fae proverb
utumn ended with a series of bitterly cold days that brought to mind echoes of midwinter. But those days passed, and spring began to work its deep magic in Faerie. The cherry trees on the Promenade blossomed, the rain slowed to intermittent drizzle, and the City Emerald came to life. Titania's Spring Pageant took over the city for a full week, during which colorful banners were hung from lampposts and windows and the streets were strewn with rose petals, the blossoms taken from Titania's own private garden. Music blared from the Outer Court of the Great Seelie Keep day and night, and the pageant itself, at the week's end, was a ten-hour extravagance with a parade, a show of pyrotechnics, and a grand mestina on the keep grounds open to the public.
The mestines produced a massive epic, beginning with Uvenchaud slaying the dragon Achera and culminating with him leading the combined Fae clans to victory over the Old Thule in the Midlands War. Achera's flames were so realistic that children screamed when he flew overhead, and the crowd roared when Uvenchaud's army climbed the ramparts at Drae and overcame the Thule king Marlace in the last battle. The final scene showed Uvenchaud being crowned King of Faerie, and the crowd cheered, throwing flower petals at the mestines who stood on the ground, working the intricate
