4

Galina Odoyevtseva Prozorova placed the book on her lap and wearily rubbed her eyes. Mere months ago, she had considered the collection of writings by Iosif Kantemir, The Purpose of Man, Nature, and Governance, to be dull reading. She had occasionally waded through one of his essays, but only because she felt some knowledge of political systems was necessary for a well-rounded scholar. Oh how she missed those halcyon days.

Following the liberation of Izmoroz from the empire, the Council of Lords had reformed to take over governance of the country. It had been a glorious and historic day filled with inspiring speeches and great feasting. It was a day that would forever be fixed in her memory.

But since that day, nothing else had happened. Cities that had been damaged during the conflict continued to languish. Even stately Gogoleth still showed the disfiguring scars of battle. Yet the people who had the power to do something about it argued endlessly about minor details on how aid should be provided, squabbling among each other like petulant children.

As always, when Galina saw a problem, she turned to books for advice on how to remedy it. The previous Council of Lords had been disbanded at the end of the Winter War, years before she had been born, so she knew little about how it had functioned. The obvious first step, then, was to read books written by or about the most famous statesmen from Izmoroz’s past. How had they broken such deadlocks? And going forward, how could a country without a single ruler still provide strong leadership? If she could find answers to those questions, she could pass them along to her father, one of the most prominent members of the council, and they could finally begin to heal their poor, beleaguered country.

So she read every book on the subject she could find: The Izmorozian Dream by Fyodor Botkin, The Noble Council by Nikolay Pirogov, and now A Land Without Kings by Timofey Korotkov. Unfortunately, they were all such laborious, overwrought tomes that even a scholar of her caliber had difficulty parsing them at times. Worse still, the results of her research thus far were… not promising.

Yet there had to be a way to inject strength into her country’s flailing new government, and she would find it. With that resolution firmly in mind, she returned to Korotkov’s belabored prose.

Soon after, she was interrupted by a knock on the study door.

“Yes?”

Masha peeked her head inside.

“Angelo Lorecchio is here to see you, miss.”

Galina closed her book once again. “Thank you, Masha. Please send him in.”

Lorecchio was undoubtedly a sly character, but Galina found she rather enjoyed the imperial deserter’s visits. She didn’t know how much she trusted his professed motives, but she found in him an intellectual equal, and that was a novel experience for her. He was also not a bad-looking fellow. There seemed to be a subset of Aureumian men whose looks actually improved with age. Apparently, Giovanni Portinari had also been such a man. Perhaps that meant that Sebastian would—

She cut off that line of thinking immediately. It would only bring her pain and sadness, neither of which she could afford during this critical time for Izmoroz. She fixed a smile to her face as Lorecchio entered the room.

“Dear Angelo, you really should have a title of some sort, don’t you think?” she asked as he settled into his customary chair across from her.

“Goodness no, Galina Odoyevtseva,” he said. “I have no title because I have no authority. I am merely an adviser, and all those I advise are free to take or ignore my words as they see fit.”

“Well, then, if you are so very informal, perhaps you should speak less formally and simply call me Galina.”

“I beg you not to deny me the pleasure of speaking your melodious name,” he replied.

She smiled ruefully. His slippery demeanor belied a deeply stubborn nature underneath. As always, she was fond of such contradictions.

“Well, then, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” she asked.

“Sadly, I bring news that could be somewhat… troubling to you,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Apparently, our illustrious Ranger of Marzanna and Captain Blaine left Gogoleth some weeks ago with the intent of returning to the tundra.”

“That hardly seems troubling to me,” said Galina. “The less I see of that… creature, the better. Is Elgin Mordha concerned for the safety of his countryman?”

“The Tighearna has expressed no such worries to me,” said Lorecchio. “But while speaking with Bhuidseach Rowena, I learned Sonya Turgenev’s purpose in returning to the tundra. Apparently there are three other Rangers who have been hiding there since the end of the last war.”

Galina’s eyes widened. “For twenty years?”

Lorecchio nodded.

“Well, they must be quite old by now. Assuming they wish to return to society, I question how much use they would be to us should the empire return.”

He gazed at her a moment, his eyes hooded in the shadow of his iron-gray brows. “It isn’t their military prowess, or lack thereof, that should concern you, Galina Odoyevtseva.”

“Oh? And pray advise me, what should my concern be?”

“Do you recall, on the night of our victory over Aureum, that I shared my concerns regarding Sonya Turgenev’s negative view of the Izmorozian nobility?”

Galina’s eyes narrowed. “Of course I do.”

“You have seen firsthand the influence a single Ranger can exert over the peasants of Izmoroz. Can you imagine how much power four of them would wield? What if they, as a group, decided to supplant your new Council of Lords to rule this country themselves?”

“I have a difficult time imagining Sonya ruling anything,” said Galina.

Lorecchio nodded. “But what of these older, more experienced Rangers? Hardened by years of war, estranged from society for so long, I wonder if they would have much sympathy for your struggling council of nobles.”

“The council is not struggling, it’s merely—”

“Please let us be candid, Galina Odoyevtseva. Currently, it is a mess. And why wouldn’t it be? Men with little experience in governance are suddenly thrust into the role of leadership, and the only precedent they know, so you have informed me, is one of weakness and inefficiency. It is only natural that they should struggle with how to proceed.”

He was painfully correct, of course. According to Galina’s research, the previous councils had been just as beset by internal disagreement as the current one. Some arguments had gone on for months without resolution, and in one notable case, years. In fact, that years-long deadlock, which had concerned placing some modest limits on annual tithes, had only been resolved when its most prominent opponent died.

Furthermore, the books she’d read described no method to achieving strong leadership without a single ruler because the council had been purposefully designed to prevent strong leadership from existing in Izmoroz. Lord Korotkov had perhaps put it most succinctly, and to Galina’s mind most naively, when he wrote:

What purpose would Izmoroz have for kings or emperors? Such men could never understand or appreciate the individual needs of each lord or their people. I tell you, good citizens, there is more potential harm in the system of monarchy than there could ever be gain. What’s more, the will of one man could never match that of a nation united in brotherhood. I need but look to the failure of our neighbor in the south to know that ours is the superior system of governance.

That “neighbor in the south” had of course been Aureum during the early years of an empire that had gone on to conquer over half the continent, so it was clear Korotkov’s evidence had not borne out for him.

Galina gave Lorecchio a pained smile, striving not to appear defensive.

“The council simply needs time to find their footing. To figure out a new system. A better system.”

“But do you think these Rangers will give them that time? You can plead for patience to me, and perhaps even to the peasants.” He leaned forward, his tan, weathered face etched with concern. “But when have you ever known Sonya Turgenev to be patient with others?”

He was right about that, too, of course. This might be just the opportunity Sonya needed to incite peasants to rise up against the nobility.

She inclined her head. “Very well, Angelo. You have convinced me this is indeed troubling news. So what do you propose I do about it?”

“It’s a tricky situation, to be sure,” he said. “But I believe that between the two of us, we can devise the proper remedy without any bloodshed.”

She put her book to one side and placed her hands in her lap. “Then let us begin immediately.”