When Cortin got to the breakfast table after Mass, she was amused to
find a heated discussion in progress, about what the family name should
be. It seemed an odd subject, she thought as she helped herself from
the hot-table rather than calling an order to the kitchen--but on
second thought, it did make sense. Women were used to giving up
maiden-family names on marriage, though a professional with an
established reputation would often hyphenate it with her husband's, but
the men didn't think too highly of the idea. She listened without
interfering; it was their Family, using a new system, so it seemed
reasonable to let them determine how it should be identified. If their
method looked as if it would work out well, she'd recommend it to His
Majesty for general implementation.
It didn't take them long to decide hyphenating all the names together
alphabetically was much too unwieldy to work. Hyphenation was fine,
they agreed, but more than two names was excessive--the problem now was
which two. Cortin favored Odeon's thinking, that everyone take the
name of the senior spouse at the Family's founding, with the other
spouses hyphenating their surnames, and that argument seemed to be
winning, with the focus changing to whether seniority should be in age
or rank. The debate was getting intense when Powell raised both hands.
"Since I don't class as senior either way, and Joan's interest seems to
be purely academic or she'd have said something before now, why not ask
her opinion?"
"Good idea," Odeon said, after looking around at the rest and getting
their agreement. "What do you think, Joanie?"
"Senior in rank seems most reasonable to me," Cortin said. "After all,
this is going to apply to nobles and royalty, as well as commoners, and
you can't expect a monarch or fief-holder to change names. As an
alternative you didn't mention, at least for commoners, pick a name the
initial spouses can all agree on, since it only has to be established
once."
"Now that idea I like even better," Odeon said. "People?"
There was momentary puzzlement, then what he was suggesting dawned on
his spouses, and he got nods and murmurs of agreement from the rest.
"That's settled, then," he said, turning to Cortin. "Subject to Your
Excellency's veto, of course, this will be Family Cortin. With you at
its head, equally of course."
Cortin stared at him, then found herself unable to hold back a wide,
delighted smile. "No veto, Mike. That's the nicest present I could
ever get! Thanks, all of you!"
"No need for thanks," Chang said. "The honor and pleasure are ours.
On St. Ignatius, we would now be entitled to call you Mother; is that
true here?"
"You've made me head of your--our--family, and I'm a female," Cortin
said, "so I suppose that is the proper title. And that means I'll be
grandmother to your children!" She smiled again, thoroughly pleased.
"Though I hope you'll keep calling me Joan or Joanie, too, and of
course we'll have to observe correct protocol in public."
"Of course, Excellency," Chang said with a perfectly straight face.
* * * * *
The news was just too good to keep to herself, and Cortin knew His
Majesty had to be the first to know about the Family and her new status
in it--though it would surprise her if Prince Edward hadn't already
told him about the first part. She was nervous about the result,
enough so that she was reluctant to call at all--certainly not before
His Majesty could reasonably be expected to have been to Mass, had
breakfast, and gotten his morning briefing from his chief advisors.
God willing, there'd be nothing in the briefing to upset him--maybe
even some news to put him in a good mood.
In the meantime, she told herself she really ought to brief Matthew to
expect new residents and a visitor, then write the invitation to
Blackfeather. And there was all that mail and paperwork that had been
accumulating in her main-floor office; she should at least go through
it enough to sort what had to be taken care of from what could be
thrown out.
She had alerted Brady, who proved enthusiastic about having children in
the house once she assured him they'd be kept very strictly out of her
profession, written the invitation, and was starting to work her way
through the stack of mail when Powell looked in the open door. "Need
some help? I'm pretty good at that sort of thing."
Cortin looked up at him gratefully. "I sincerely hope so, because this
is the one part of my job I really don't like. Pull up a chair and see
what you can do."
Powell did so, taking a stack of mail, opening and going through it
with considerable assurance and more speed than Cortin herself was
managing. After a few minutes, she discovered she was doing more
watching than working--and being impressed. When he finished with the
stack, she took it and scrutinized his work.
That was even more impressive than watching him, because he had dealt
with every piece exactly as she would have. Impressive, and a little
frightening--but she wasn't about to question a gift from God. "What
do you do during the day, Chuck?"
Powell flushed. "Not much, I'm afraid. Read, mostly, between Mass and
supper--and entertain myself, of course. It's fun, but I'd like to do
something more . . . productive."
"Productive as in?"
"This sort of thing. I'm pretty good at it, I think, and you don't
like it--maybe I could be your secretary, or aide, or whatever you'd
want to call it?"
Cortin chuckled. "'Great minds' . . . You're more than pretty good,
you're incredible--almost as if you were reading my mind. The job's
all yours, with my thanks."
Powell flushed again. "It's easy--when we were so close to being one
person, you wanted me--maybe all of us--to know you as well as we
could. I can sort of put myself in your place, at least enough to
handle routine things the way you would. And I enjoy doing it."
"As I said, it's all yours." Cortin handed him the invitation to
Blackfeather. "I thought I ought to write this myself, and I'm never
sure when I'll have time free, but I don't want it going out until we
can be sure she'll get it after the Bains arrive. Can you handle that?"
"No problem." Powell took the paper. "They'll be arriving a week from
Saturday, right?"
"That's what I understand, yes."
"Mail it a week from today, then." Powell clipped a note to the
invitation and put it in the middle basket of her stack. "Okay,
anything else?"
Cortin glanced at the clock and winced. "I have to call His Majesty
and tell him about the Family--stick around and give me moral support?"
"Of course."
"Thanks." Cortin made the call, almost wishing the King wouldn't
answer. When he did and she identified herself, though, she could hear
a smile in his voice.
"Good work, Colonel. Our congratulations to the newlyweds--please
bring them to the Palace when you're free, to accept them in person."
"My pleasure, Your Majesty--but there's more." Cortin took a deep
breath, hoping she didn't sound as nervous as she felt. "They've
adopted me as mother, and taken Cortin as the Family name."
"Outstanding," the King said with obvious satisfaction. "A slight
change, then. Bring them all over as soon as possible--Edward will be
waiting to bring you to the Throne Room."
"But what--" Cortin cut herself off. She'd find out soon enough; this
was just another example of His Majesty keeping his own counsel. Good
thing Dave and Tiny hadn't left yet . . . "Yes, Sire. Ten minutes,
unless you want us in dress uniform."
"Service uniform is fine. Ten minutes, then."
* * * * *
As promised, Prince Edward was waiting when they got to the Palace.
All except Cortin left their weapons with the armorer, then the Prince
led them to the Throne Room. His Majesty was seated on the Throne, in
everyday clothes but wearing the Crown and holding the Sword of State,
and the rest of the Sealed ones and Her Majesty the Queen were in
attendance. It looked like an informal Grand Audience, Cortin thought,
but that was a contradiction in terms--yet she'd never heard of Crown
and Sword being used at the same time except at a Coronation or Grand
Audience, and this certainly wasn't a Coronation!
The King smiled. "Thank you for your promptness, gentles. We
congratulate you on your marriage and your choice of a Family head, and
We offer Our best wishes for a long and happy Family life."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." His congratulations and good wishes were
welcome, Cortin thought, but hardly call for ceremonial . . .
"Neither your marriage nor what We will shortly do must be made public
until after the Strike Force is activated, but since it will require
you to make major changes in your lives, We have chosen to give you
some time to adapt in private." The King stood, descended from the
dais to stand in front of the Throne. "Joan Cortin, approach Us and
kneel."
Cortin obeyed, puzzled. Whatever was going on certainly wasn't normal!
When she knelt, the King said, "We believe your extended family
structure to be in the best interest of Our realm and subjects. To
demonstrate Our support and approval and to give you temporal power to
assist in establishing more such Families, We hereby name Joan Cortin
and her heirs to head the Northwest Territory, now the Archduchy of
High Teton, as long as this Kingdom shall stand." He touched both her
shoulders with the flat of the Sword. "Rise, Your Grace."
Too stunned for immediate reaction, Cortin did as she was told. She'd
barely gotten used to being King's Inquisitor; now she was suddenly
Arch-duchess as well. Granted that His Majesty was close-mouthed about
his plans until he acted on them, he could have given her some warning!
Not long afterward the group was in the Sable Room, a large version of
Harmony Lodge's common-room, having hot drinks and cinnamon-cake.
Cortin was starting to recover, and realizing it was probably a good
thing His Majesty had surprised her. If he'd asked, she would have
turned it down; now, it was too late. But--"Your Majesty, I don't see
how I can do both jobs properly."
"You can't, of course, and I don't expect you to. I assume you want to
keep on as Royal Inquisitor?"
"I think I can do more good in that position, yes, Sire. At least
until the Brotherhood is eliminated."
"I agree," the King said, surprising her. "And I have no intention of
separating you from your Family, though under normal circumstances your
heir would act as your regent while you carry out Royal
responsibilities. My son has agreed to act in that capacity until you
feel free to relinquish your Inquisitorial duties, or until you want
your heir to take over." He paused. "And who is your heir, Your
Grace? Since you do not and cannot have children, I must require you
to designate your successor."
"I've hardly had time to think about that, Sire." He was absolutely
right, she did have that responsibility to her new lieges--and she
dared not waste any time fulfilling it. She was still positive she'd
have to face Shannon, and that whatever restraints held him back now
were unlikely in the extreme to do so then. Whether he was just
Shayan's tool, or Shayan himself, it was the Hell-King's power she'd be
facing then, and that was power no mortal could match. She'd probably
be killed outright; if not, she could only pray that God would be
merciful and not leave her subject to Shayan's torture. At least she
had the certainty of dying in a state of grace . . .
"In that case," the King's voice interrupted her thoughts, "might I
suggest that the next-senior Family member would be a reasonable
choice? That would logically be Captain Cortin-Odeon, true?"
"True, Your Majesty." Cortin glanced at Mike, savoring the sound of
his Family name. He was the logical choice--and designating him would
have an extra benefit, as far as she was concerned. Once all this was
made public and he was openly heir to a major fief, he'd be kept out of
unusually difficult situations. He might not particularly like that,
but it would certainly be easier for her, not having to worry about
him. The same would be true of the rest, though to a lesser degree, as
members of the nobility. Yes, it was just as well His Majesty hadn't
given her an opportunity to refuse! "An excellent suggestion; I so
designate him."
"Designation confirmed," the King said promptly. "As heir to an
Archduchess, that makes him a Duke and his spouses . . . hmm." The
King frowned, smiling at the same time. "I can see where we need some
new terminology to fit the new Families. Calling a man 'Duchess'--or
the equivalent for lower ranks--could lead to all sorts of confusion,
even though it was the proper term for the spouse in a conventional
family. And 'Duke-spouse' is clumsy. Suggestions, anyone?"
There was silence for a while, then Powell raised a tentative hand.
"Yes, my Lord?" the King said.
Powell looked startled, an emotion Cortin echoed until it made her grin
instead. She wasn't the only one who'd have some adjusting to do!
Then Powell gathered himself and went on. "It's a made-up word, but
what about something like 'Dukida'? It's neutral sexually, and in
zoology '-ida' is used in forming family names . . ."
"Sounds odd," the King said thoughtfully, "but then new words usually
do. And the suffix fits with the other titles of nobility, takes a
classical plural . . . Very well, so be it. Thank you, my Lord."
"I'm honored to be of service, Your Majesty."
"Now that we have that settled," the King said, "I understand Family
Cortin is expecting its first child?"
"Yes, Sire," Cortin said. "And I hope soon becoming step-parents to
three more." She explained about Betty and the children.
"Excellent. That makes me wish even more that I could forbid this
entire Family from going into action, but that would defeat one of the
new structure's purposes." The King frowned, addressing the entire
group. "I have forbidden Colonel Cortin to go into danger except
against those who personally harmed her, a ban that will also apply to
Duke Michael after the convent raid and to Dukida Eleanor for the
duration of her pregnancy. Unfortunately, I have to let the rest of
you set an example. Just for God's sake, be careful!"
Odeon glanced at Cortin, then looked at the King. "For the Protector's
sake, Your Majesty," he said quietly, "you can be sure we'll all be as
careful as humanly possible."
* * * * *
The week and a half between Family Cortin's sudden promotion and the
Bains' arrival was one of the busiest Cortin could remember. Besides
her regular work, she tried to spend a couple of hours a day helping
get the Lodge ready, then in the evenings the rest of the Sealed group
came to help the Family get used to its new status and prepare for the
responsibilities involved in running a new Archduchy, and after that
for the Protector's Communion.
And the first Friday evening, Illyanov startled Cortin by announcing
that he'd asked for discharge from St. Dmitri Enforcement, which he
expected would be formally granted within two weeks, and that his wife
and children would be moving to St. Thomas as soon as travel
arrangements could be made.