Sovereign

'I have not seen your mother for a long time, either. A year or more.'

'Well, why would she want to see you?'

'Because I am Prelate of the Theurgia.'

'Ah, yes. I remember. You are an important official.'

'Yes, I like to think so.'

'Not as important as a prince, though.'

'Oh, no. Only a queen is more important than a prince.'

Olio nodded. 'I'm going to ask Mother to make me admiral of the navy.'

'Admiral?'

'Yes, then she will give me the Key of the Sword.'

'Is that your favourite Key?'

Olio frowned in thought. 'I think so.' He rubbed his temples with the palms of his hands. 'Sometimes…' His voice trailed off.

'Sometimes?'

'Sometimes I think it isn't my favourite. Sometimes I think…' Again, his voice faded.

'The Key of the Heart.'

Olio looked up in surprise. 'Yes. How did you know?'

'We have talked about it before.'

Suddenly Olio looked very wise. 'And we are going to talk about it again, aren't we?'

'Only if you want to,' Edaytor said gently.

'You like to talk about it.'

'Yes.'

'Do you talk to others about it?'

Edaytor almost said 'constantly', but how would he explain to Olio that he had the finest minds in the theurgia trying to discover how the Key of the Heart had sent Olio back to his childhood, had apparently wiped clean the man Olio had once been? 'Yes, now and then.'

Instead of wise, Olio now looked shrewd. 'Why are you so interested in the Key?'

Edaytor thought about how to answer, and eventually said, 'For your sake.'

'Oh,' Olio said, accepting the answer. He was a prince, after all, and a lot of people did a lot of things for his sake. Except his mother. He wished she could do more for his sake. He had not seen her for so long he sometimes cried when he thought about it, but only when he was alone. He did not want anyone to know that he cried. Princes should not cry. Especially princes who wanted to be admiral of the navy. And then a question came to him, one that surprised him because he was not sure he understood its implications. 'Why for my sake?' he said quickly before he forgot it.

'Because I care for you.'

Olio waved his hands impatiently. 'No, no, that is not what I mean.' He put his hands over his temples again. Why was thinking so hard sometimes? 'I meant… I meant…' The question was still there, but it was so hard to force it out. Slowly, emphasising each word, he said: 'Why—is—it—for—my—sake?'

Edaytor was taken unawares. In some ways it was the question he had been waiting for, the question that showed some glimmer of the old Olio. He licked his lips and said slowly: 'Because the Key hurt you once.'

Olio blinked in surprise and stepped back from the prelate. 'Hurt me? One of the Keys? My mother used it to hurt me?' His voice started rising in panic.

'No!' Edaytor said quickly. 'No! Your mother would never, never hurt you. You used it!'

Olio froze. 'I used it?'

Edaytor could only nod. He felt—he knew—he was close to something important, close to reestablishing a connection with the old Olio, but at the same time knew he had lost control of the discussion and did not know what to say next.

'I used it,' Olio said, and although he was still looking at Edaytor he was seeing something else entirely. 'I used it,' he repeated. He bowed his head as if overcome by exhaustion.

Edaytor rested a hand on his shoulder. 'Your Highness?'

Olio shook his head. 'How could I have used one of the Keys? I am not a magiker.' He looked sharply up at Edaytor and grabbed his hand. 'But I remember. I remember having it.'

At that moment the old Olio was back. Edaytor could see it in the prince's expression, in the sudden strength in his voice. But just as quickly it was gone again, and it was a lost, confused boy holding his hand.

Olio blinked, stood straighten He pointed out to the harbour. 'See? There is a warship returning to harbour. Isn't she fine?'

Edaytor did not know whether to laugh or cry. Olio had come so close to throwing off his sickness, but in the end simply had not had the strength needed. And as time went on he was increasingly convinced that there was nothing he nor anyone else could do to help Olio find that strength.

And then it was his turn to blink and stand straighter. No human has the strength Olio needs, he told himself. Which means…

'Oh, God. Of course,' he said aloud.

'Of course what?' Olio asked.

Edaytor shook his head. 'Nothing, your Highness. I have to go now.'

'Really? Now?'

Edaytor patted the prince on the arm. 'But I will be back. Soon. I promise.'

Olio shrugged. 'Where are you going?'

'To see the queen,' Edaytor said absently. He was already thinking of how to propose to Areava what he was sure she would be reluctant to do.

'The queen? She will see you? I think she should see me before she sees you.'

Edaytor realised what he had said so casually and saw the hurt again in Olio's face. 'Oh no. I'm not important enough to ever see the queen. I meant I will speak to one of her officials.'

'Ah,' Olio said, mollified, and turned back to view the harbour.

Edaytor bowed and left the south gallery. He stopped for a moment to orient himself, then hurried towards Areava's chambers. When he got there he was stopped by two guards. He demanded to see the queen and one of the guards left to pass on the message. When he returned it was in the company of Harnan Beresard.

'Prelate Fanhow? How can I help?'

'You can't, Harnan. I need to see the queen urgently.'

'Her Majesty is very busy with important matters—'

'—of state,' Edaytor finished for the secretary. 'Yes, I'm sure. But I need to see her about Olio.' He shook his head. 'Umm, Prince Olio.'

Harnan looked at him dubiously. 'I see. Relating to what, specifically?'

'I think that should be between me and the queen.'

Harnan noticeably stiffened. 'I see,' he said through a straight mouth. 'I will pass on your message.'

'I will wait here for her reply,' Edaytor said, trying to look like someone who would not brook delay.

'Suit yourself,' Harnan said and left.

The two guards blocking Edaytor's way looked at him as if he was an unnecessary and unpleasant distraction, and his natural timidity took over. He avoided their gaze and pretended to look at the ceiling, at his shoes, at his fingernails. As time went on he became increasingly uncomfortable and was starting to wish he had never come. But then all doubts disappeared when Areava herself, with Harnan in tow, appeared behind the guards and ordered them to let the prelate through. The guards snapped to attention and Edaytor sidled past them. He bowed deeply to Areava and threw a smug look at Harnan. Areava looped her arm through his and drew him away from all other ears.

'What about my brother?' she demanded, her voice a strange mixture of hope and threat.

'I think I know a way we can help him—'

'How?' she interrupted.

'—but it is risky, and may possibly make his Highness's illness worse.'

Areava caught his gaze. Edaytor thought her eyes were as cold as ice, and he could not help a shiver down his spine.

'What sort of risk? Is this some new kind of magik the Theurgia have dreamed up?'

Edaytor shook his head. 'No, your Majesty.' He pointed to the Key of Hearts around her neck. 'It is by using that.'

'You should know I have already tried that.'

'I guessed you would have. But you felt nothing at all when you tried.'

'How did you know that?' she asked sharply, and tugged painfully at his arm.

'Because the Key has become attuned to Olio. Only he can use it now, unless someone is prepared to sacrifice themselves as he has to gain control over it.'

Areava went white. 'I must do that to save him?'

Edaytor looked at Areava in horror. 'You, your Majesty? No, never! That price would be too high, even for Olio's sake.'