Chapter 6
Six
RODIAN
The motor carriage that pulled into the palace forecourt bore two small flags over the gas headlights, the royal seal and the specific one given to the royal heir.
Rodian shifted on his feet, blinking tiny snowflakes out of his eyes.
Lidiya had tried to dissuade him from greeting his sister and nephew so informally, but in that area, Rodian had put his foot down.
He had given up much since taking the crown, but he would not give up the love freely given to his only sibling.
A servant moved to open the rear passenger side door of the motor carriage. A small boy tumbled out, dressed for the harsh winter of the far north. He shrieked in joy once he caught sight of Rodian and raced forward.
“Uncle Rodian!” Heike called out with all the exuberance of a young child whose personality hadn’t been leashed by royal protocol.
“My favorite nephew!” Rodian said, smiling widely as Heike threw himself at Rodian, fully expecting to be caught. Rodian did so deftly before lifting him up and tossing him with ease into the air overhead. Heike screamed with laughter, the earflaps of his little furred hat fluttering in the air.
“You are not to spoil him,” came the tart warning from his sister.
Rodian set Heike back on his feet, the six-year-old boy beaming up at him, swinging their hands back and forth.
Sakka emerged from the motor carriage with an economical grace Rodian had been hard-pressed to learn growing up.
Both of them had their father’s height, but while Rodian’s coloring took after their father, Sakka looked very much like their mother.
She came toward them, tall as ever, two thick blonde braids falling over her shoulders.
Her outfit was practical for traveling over the tundra and through the boreal forest, meant to keep her warm as opposed to looking fashionable.
The high furred hat she wore added to her height, her boots always having a practical heel.
She still wore the mourning leathers wrapped tight around the ends of her braids, dyed a deep purple it looked almost black.
Sakka had not changed her hairstyle in five years, not since she’d written her husband’s name on the memory wall in their old town.
Lev had been lost with other fishermen when part of a cliff had sheared off and fallen into the sea, sending a tidal wave rushing through the cove a dozen fishermen had been hunting in.
The loss was acute for Sakka, as they’d known each other since they were children. Heike had no memory of his father, and Rodian had stepped up in that role as needed, becoming a sort of father figure to his nephew.
“I’ve missed you, little sister,” Rodian said, wrapping her up in a hug that was probably not approved royal protocol, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t seen Sakka in weeks.
“I’m sure the soldiers sent to guard us up north are glad to be back here,” she drawled.
Rodian put her at arm’s length, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Sakka.”
She sniffed primly at him. “It is not my fault city-dwellers cannot stomach working beyond the walls.”
Rodian could only think what she had put her guards through in his absence—nothing less than he would have, when it came to working the herds. “To be fair, the pastures have fences.”
“Which I explained every day I went out in them.” She shrugged lightly before offering Heike her hand. The little boy gamely took it, beaming up at his mother. “We made the journey here with no issues.”
“We got to travel by submersible!” Heike said excitedly.
Rodian nodded, aware of the details of their travel south. He’d signed off on it, after all. “Let’s get inside, and I will show you around.”
“Do you not have duties with the royal court today?” Sakka asked.
Rodian shook his head. “You come first, little sister.”
She smiled at him, soft and pleased, despite the tiredness in her eyes. For all that the journey from Verdlovsk to Matriskav would have been quicker by sea than by land, it was still an undertaking during winter, especially with a child.
Rodian ushered them into the palace, where Lidiya waited for them with other servants. They all bowed or curtseyed at their arrival, fists over heart.
“Welcome, Your Royal Highness,” Lidiya said in greeting to Sakka.
For her part, Sakka took the title in stride, though Rodian still recalled the angry telephone call he’d endured when he rang her up to tell her Heike was now his successor.
Her anger at him for putting her son in such a fraught position was the reason she hadn’t been present for his coronation.
She’d blamed it on the transition of their Minister duties to cousins to oversee, but Rodian knew the truth.
But they were family, and she had still come.
Rodian would be forever grateful to her for that.
“Let me show you to your wing,” Rodian said, pretending he didn’t see the way Lidiya’s eyelids twitched at that offer.
Heike was excited to tour the royal wing that was their home now, poking his way through every room Rodian walked them through.
They had the floor above his to themselves, while the family rooms were located on the first level.
The nursery for Heike was larger than the home Sakka and Lev had lived in, full of toys the little boy became immediately enamored with.
Rodian and Sakka shared the sofa in the corner meant for a governess or nurse.
No one else was in the room with them, Lidiya having ushered the servants out.
They watched Heike as he explored the large room and all the mechanical and wind-up toys, stuffed animals, and games meant for a child of six years.
“You did not take any herds with you when you came to the capital,” Sakka said quietly, watching her son play.
“They belong to the town,” Rodian said.
“They are our heritage, no matter what city-folk like to believe. I’ve requested a small number be transported here to Matriskav.”
Rodian shook his head. “Sakka.”
“Do not argue, Rodya. The lower classes will pay a heavy price in the coming years for the fallacy of the nobility. The use of reyndeers in your royal outings will be a reminder of where you came from and what your heart is like.”
“I never asked for this,” he said plaintively.
Sakka, ever pragmatic, did not let him wallow in pity. “It is your road now. I would see you walk it with your head held high.”
“The royal court is nothing like my Ministerial duties.”
“Have you been managing?”
“With help.”
“There is no shame in that. Lidiya seems adept enough.” He’d spoken to Sakka about his aide before, both on televox calls and via telegrams.
“She is. But she is not of the ivoryanin.”
“No, which was your concern. Have you found someone to assist you?” Rodian hesitated only a moment, but his sister knew him better than anyone, and her gaze sharpened with curiosity. “You have.”
“An ivoryan who people say is prone to gossip.”
“That is not necessarily a bad thing.”
“I made him my Steward of the Crown.”
One dark blonde eyebrow arched high, Sakka’s gaze never breaking from his own. “You find him that loyal?”
“Loyal enough.”
Sakka hummed thoughtfully, and Rodian tried not to squirm beneath her gaze. For all that she was younger than him, she reminded him of their mother at times—determined and fiercely protective. “I would meet him, this new Steward of yours, and judge him accordingly.”
“Sakka,” Rodian said exasperatedly.
She waved off his concern, the only person who could ignore him without repercussion, not that he would ever demand obedience from her or anyone else.
It was something he feared, that the rank of Isar would not become overwhelming but easy.
If he was not working for his people, then he did not deserve the crown or the road the Midnight Star had given him.
“You will join us, of course.”
Rodian managed to hold back a wince, but just barely. He doubted he’d be able to hide his fascination with Arkadi from his sister. She knew him too well. Amidst the vastness of the palace and the weight of the crown, Rodian could only be thankful for that.
Heike came over just then, giddy from his exploration of the nursery and all the toys, hair mussed and smiling widely. “Mama! Did you see the clockwork toys?”
“I did indeed, my sweetling.” Sakka smiled at her son, reaching out to gently tug on his collar, smoothing it flat. “How do you feel about seeing your bedroom?”
Heike’s eyes got bigger, excitement filling his voice. “Will it have toys?”
“I think all your toys are here,” Rodian said as he stood.
“I’ll need to make friends to share them with.”
And truly, Rodian could pick no one better to succeed him than his sister’s son, because he trusted her to raise him into the kind of man who would make their mother and father proud.