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The coronation robes were heavy, the anointing oil smelled like it had gone bad a century ago, the crown dug into her forehead and chafed, she was sweating, the coronational liturgy was nearly an hour long, and to top it all off, Cardenia’s period had begun last night and right now her cramps were like someone with an iron glove had taken it, wrapped it around her uterus, and squeezed. Yes, Coronation Day was going along just great for Emperox Grayland II, thanks for asking.
“The answer to that is complicated.” “Give me the short version.” “The short version is ‘Yes, but.’ The slightly longer version is ‘No, and.’ Which version would you like?”
“You threw him into space?” “Yup.” “And he didn’t die?” “We only threw him out a little bit.”
Presently they came to Kiva’s cabin. Marce entered and was immediately jealous. “You have a room the size of a room,”
It was breathtaking the situations that humans put themselves into, and still managed to thrive. In the Interdependency, with its religious and social ethos of interconnectedness combined with a guild-centered, monopolistic economy, they’d created possibly the most ridiculously complex method of ensuring the survival of the species they could have devised. Bolting on a formal caste system of nobles intertwined with a merchant class, and common workers underneath, complicated proceedings even further.
This made me smile because it feels a little as though the author is making a commentary on his own choices for this world.
“I didn’t want to be emperox, you know,” she said. “Yes,” Attavio agreed. “I remember.” “You didn’t want me to be emperox either.” “I remember that too. But regardless of what either of us wanted there is the fact of what is. And the fact is, you are emperox. Probably the last emperox of the Interdependency. And the question you might ask yourself is whether you would want anyone else to be that person.” “No,” Cardenia said. “No, I wouldn’t.”
