Sweep of the Heart (Innkeeper Chronicles #5)(91)

I had never heard of that. It was not in any of the Dominion or Supremacy documents.

“The bloodline of the Supremacy carried an immunity to that disease, attained through careful spousal selection and pure chance,” Kosandion continued. “The Supremacy benefited from a strong Dominion, which served as a buffer between it and the Hope Crushing Horde. A secret agreement was reached under the pretense of paying homage to the ancient unity of bloodlines. Caldira ka ret Magren, the Empress of the Supremacy, agreed to carry two heirs of Sovereign Rebastion to term. To ensure the full transference of immunity, no artificial womb would be used. The embryos would be implanted, one at a time, and she would carry her children to term within her body.”

“She loved her children before they were born and even more after. How could she not? A child who shares heartbeat with their mother…” Caldenia fell silent.

Sadness flickered in Kosandion’s eyes. There was more to this somehow.

Kosandion resumed his story.

“The creation of an heir is a complex process. The heir is not conceived but crafted. Whether the gestation takes place within the mother or within an artificial womb, the genetic makeup of the heir is radically different from their siblings. The heir’s purpose is to rule.”

Made sense.

“Raising the heir, providing them with education and guidance demands full attention from the parents. Even if the heir’s parents are in a committed and loving relationship, they delay having more children until the heir is on the cusp of adulthood. And those other children are not heirs, nor will they ever be. If the heir dies, another enhanced embryo carrying the desired set of genes will be created and in time, a new heir will be born.”

“It seems like a very lonely childhood,” I said.

“By design. The heir’s first priority is the nation,” Caldenia answered.

Kosandion nodded. “Too much attachment to one’s siblings can lead the ruler to make decisions based on emotion rather than logic.”

“The age gap also ensures that the other children will not compete for power. Although they will be no match for the heir, some do try despite their shortcomings.” Caldenia sounded harsh. “Unfortunately, when you raise a tyrant to exercise their power at will, rules go out the window, even if they’re sensible.”

“Caldira agreed to bear the heirs only if they could be raised together until the youngest reached ten years of age. The Dominion had no choice but to agree. Two heirs were born, a female and a male two years apart. They were raised together as brother and sister, and their mother doted on them both. They had the best education, they shared the greatest tutors, yet their curriculums differed drastically. The older, female child was raised to be the future Empress, while her younger brother was to become the Sovereign.”

“When they were twelve and ten,” Caldenia said, “they were torn apart with the expectation that they would never see each other again outside of the rare state function.”

Wow.

“Years passed,” Kosandion continued. “The female child became the Empress and eventually gave birth to an heir. Her daughter died when she was fifteen, assassinated by a separatist faction. A decade later she tried again. Her son lived into his thirties, insisted on personally leading a fleet into war, and died doing so.”

Oh. I didn’t know. Caldenia’s public file never mentioned family. Her face was devoid of all expression. She looked like a mannequin.

“Her brother became the Sovereign and lost three heirs. When his fourth heir was in adolescence, the Sovereign and his wife had two more children, conceived in the natural way, a boy and a girl. The heir was judged to be old enough to be permitted unlimited access to his siblings.”

“What about his aunt?” I asked. “Did he ever see her?”

“Four times,” Kosandion said. “First, she visited secretly when he was born. He doesn’t remember that visit for obvious reasons, but he was told about it. The second time was when he was three and very sick. She sat by his bed, held his hand, and swore to murder everyone in the room if he didn’t survive. The third was when he was twelve. She had come for the Ten Year Summit between the Dominion and the Supremacy, and late at night she met him for five minutes under heavy guard to tell him that she was proud of him and his accomplishments.”

Caldenia gazed at the pond, as if she had gone deaf.

“What about the last time?” I asked.

“It was years later. The Dominion faced civil unrest. In theory, everyone agrees that the realm must evolve or die. In practice, people resist change because it threatens their way of life. They have the luxury of not worrying about the future of the nation. They care only about their survival in the here and now. Not everyone supported the Sovereign’s reforms, no matter how much they were needed. A plot was hatched to kill him, and he was infected with a biological agent that resurrected the dormant genetic disease. It was never fully eradicated. It had just been suppressed.”

Caldenia crossed her arms on her chest and stopped by a bench facing the water. Her nephew stopped next to her. They stood five feet apart, not looking at each other.

This was all so sad and terrible.

“The Sovereign knew he was dying,” Kosandion said. “If the true cause of his death was discovered, as it would be, the fitness of his heir would be called into question. The genetic weakness of the previous generation was too well documented. The Dominion, which already faced an external threat from a foreign power and was experiencing a civil crisis, would fracture even further. The heir was still very young, half a year from adulthood. He lacked a power base sufficient to avoid a civil war.”