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The familiar, broad stone ways of Selas took them into the depths of the city, nearer and nearer to its center, House Annassa, which stood at the heart of the capital in easy reach of all the Queens’ people. Lio mentioned the history of various landmarks and pointed out his favorite sites. Enjoyment flowed between him and Cassia.
As they took a winding road beneath a long colonnade, she asked, “Ambassador, am I mistaken that you said your father planned the city as well?”
“That’s right. Your question leads me to suspect you doubt the city has a plan at all.”
“I confess to having lost my bearings the moment we left the guest houses behind. Where are we now?”
“Ereba’s Labyrinth, named for the fallen elder firstblood of Hagia Notia. My father insisted that within the city’s order, there be room for freedom. The docks, the elder houses, and civic buildings such as Hypatia’s Observatory and Hippolyta’s Gymnasium serve as navigational stars. The rest of the city forms constellations around them over time as our families grow and create.”
Perita and Callen were murmuring to one another in the back. Amid the rushing of the wind and sleighs, their voices were low enough to escape their fellow mortals’ attention, but not Lio’s.
“These Hesperines live in greater luxury than the king,” Perita said.
“TheseHesperines,” Callen replied. “What about the ones who aren’t royals or elders?”
“Well, we’ve seen a lot of workshops.”
“So the rich craftsmen and merchants play noble, just like in cities back home. What about tallow chandlers like your father? Farmers like my father was? Where are the common folk?”
“Aye. The Hesperines will shows us around the grand houses, as if that tells us anything about Orthros, but I dare say the servants’ quarters won’t be on the tour.”
Lio could tell Cassia’s friends were accustomed to the important folk not including the servants in the conversation. “Thoughtful observations, Master Callen and Mistress Perita.”
Callen looked uncomfortable and did not reply. Perita showed Lio a polite face, but her aura was unimpressed.
“In fact,” Lio went on, “each Hesperine learns a craft and joins a service—a profession. We all depend on one another to thrive. Everyone who lives in Orthros is important.”
“Well,” Callen ventured, “you must have common neighborhoods somewhere, Ambassador.”
Lio gestured around them. “None of the residents of Ereba’s Labyrinth are royals or elders. Many of them are firstbloods in their own right, however. Anyone who is not part of an established bloodline may found their own and gain a vote in our government.”
“Who works your farms?” Eudias wondered. “Where do you keep farms in all this snow? The food we have seen in the guest houses must come from somewhere.”
“Indeed, there are gardens and greenhouses all over the city that supply us with whatever produce will tolerate our climate. The forest and the ocean also provide ample forage. Farming and cooking are honorable crafts on which Orthros depends to accommodate our human guests.” Lio pointed out one of the homes as they passed. “Four generations of one of our farming bloodlines live there. They are Ritual tributaries of Blood Komnena, in fact.”
“Tributaries,” Callen echoed. “So you do have lieges and vassals, just like anywhere else.”
“On the contrary, Master Callen,” Lio answered. “We do not call them tributaries because they give us tribute, but because we have given our magic to them, as one river flows into another. My father Gifted the firstblood of that family. She does send us the most delicious produce at festival time, though. She and her descendants are accomplished agriculturalists who specialize in root vegetables.”
The mortals in the back of the sleigh all stared at the house until it was out of sight.
Perita frowned. “It takes a lot of people to keep up a house of that size. Do the folk who beat the carpets and polish the silver get votes, too?”
“No one in Orthros is a servant,” Lio answered. “We all do for ourselves with cleaning spells or honest work.Everyfamily has a vote, no matter their origin.”
“Astonishing.” Cassia rubbed it in. “So in Orthros, even vegetable farmers live in mansions and have a seat on the council.”
Lio sensed her companions’ doubts. But they would meet Hesperines from all walks of life throughout the Summit. They would see.
“…riches built on illusion and corruption!” Master Gorgos’s voice dashed by as the Stand’s sleigh passed them. “…traded their souls for finery!”
“Ambassador,” Cassia asked very seriously, “are Hesperine vegetables corrupt?”
His laughter almost escaped him. He cleared his throat into his hand. “I assure you, all vegetables grown in Selas are non-illusory and free from corruption. We sell them in Imperial markets for coppers, not souls.”
At last they entered the Heart of Selas and drove through the grove of royal evergreens that led to House Annassa. One by one, the sleighs paused and allowed their passengers to alight at the foot of the steps that led up to the Queens’ Terrace. While the sleighs jingled away back through the trees, the mortals ascended to House Annassa.
Lio smiled at the familiar surroundings. Sanctuary magic enveloped them all in a warm embrace. No snow ever covered the gleaming black-and-white marble floor and railings of the crescent terrace. The Queens sat down together on their silk-cushioned iron bench.
