The Numbers He Crossed Out

Laniakea tried to summon up what she knew.

Back in Priatra she had been given the most basic instruction in such matters, and that was how she had learned what a woman and a man had to do, and how, if a child was to be conceived. It had been nothing more than the barest foundation. Whatever else she understood of the marriage bed she had picked up only after coming to the Empire, eavesdropping in the retiring rooms of banquets.

She had never much enjoyed attending those gatherings. There was always the worry that a gown or a jewel borrowed from the Empress might be spoiled, and there were people tiresome enough to seek her out and talk. She would have been grateful had the noblewomen been the ones to approach her, but in a palace ruled by the Empress, brave souls willing to befriend Laniakea were rare. Men circled her instead.

"I hear His Highness Hyperion is not attending this banquet either. Should you find yourself in need of a partner..."

"Might you honor our house with your presence at our evening gathering? If Your Highness were to attend, a great many young gentlemen would be delighted."

The words were polite enough. The eyes that traveled over her were not. Clouded with lust, they licked their lips while imagining the curves beneath her dress, and Laniakea declined each offer as gracefully as she could before shutting herself away in the lounge. Once she had found the farthest corner and settled there, the whispered gossip of the noblewomen behind her was impossible not to overhear.

"You all know Countess Sherin sifted and sifted before she chose a husband, don't you?"

"I heard. They say she even held secret interviews and picked over the body of the man who was to be her husband that carefully."

"She chose so painstakingly, and already they sleep apart."

"Oh? Why?"

"Well... she married him because she liked his body, but he's so large that it's rather a hardship. And he's a bit clumsy himself, so the bed has been nothing but difficulty."

"Oh my. Oh my goodness. And then?"

Laniakea found her own ears pricking. People were curious about talk this intimate by nature, and her curiosity burned all the hotter because she had believed it a subject she would go to her grave without ever experiencing. Thanks to those whispers, she heard in vivid detail the practical realities her education had never taught her. There were couples who conceived from a single night, and couples who tried for years before a child came at last. There were couples who took their pleasure every night, and couples who felt nothing but pain and never shared a bed again once a child was born. There were those tormented because a partner's tastes ran to the perverse. Frank, unvarnished things.

"Mm..."

Remembering what she had overheard, Laniakea's face darkened.

"It's probably... large, isn't it?"

She had never faced a man's body directly, and so she could only guess at the size and shape from statues. She had heard that a large frame did not necessarily mean that part of him was large as well. Even so, surely it would take after the rest of him.

If something like that went inside me, it would hurt.

How much, she could not begin to imagine. Some people laughed while they spoke of the pain. Others frowned as if they did not even want to picture it. What was certain was that a large partner made it difficult, and so being with Hyperion would probably be a little hard.

"Haa..."

A long sigh escaped her. Fretting over such a thing at this late hour made her feel pathetic. Among women near her own age, plenty already had children. The Second Prince's wife, the same age as Laniakea herself, already had two. So many had already lived through it, and for her it was even a duty, and here she was worrying now.

I'll try. She clenched her fist. Effort did not make everything come right, but if she applied herself, perhaps she would grow used to it. Perhaps she would even be with child before she had the chance.

He said one would be enough.

What Hyperion wanted from her was a single heir. Was it not ordinary to think that the more heirs, the better? When she asked whether one was truly all he required, he had answered with a cold face.

"By now, people ought to have learned that too many heirs can be a poison."

They had checked one another until they died together. Everyone might well think so.

"Raising one properly is enough. There is not more than one imperial throne."

Perhaps he had been speaking of himself. In any ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠case, he did not seem likely to demand more than one of her. He would not wish to hand his heir the same fate he had endured.

Fortunate for me.

Laniakea rose and went to the head of the bed. The antique headboard was fitted with several drawers. Whoever had first used it must have been someone who liked a great many things kept close at hand. She set her fingers to the uppermost drawer, and with a soft whisper of sound it slid a little way out.

"No matter how many times I see it, magic is wondrous."

Most of that power was said to have been lost, and yet the Imperial Palace still held objects the emperors of old had commissioned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from mages. This bed was one of them. She touched the drawer again, and it glided smoothly shut.

Only the masters of the palace could open and close it, she had been told, and the masters the bed recognized were the Emperor and the Empress. She had half expected some magical rite to be required before it would acknowledge her, but the drawer had opened the instant her hand met it. Strangely enough, the moment the former Empress left the palace, the bed had recognized Laniakea as its new mistress.

Marveling, she opened and shut the drawer a few times more, then drew out what she had placed inside. It was a single sheet of paper, thick and finely made, the stock used for the imperial house's official documents.

"But is it really ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all right to accept this as it stands?"

Two days ago, Hyperion had come to her without warning and left it in her keeping.

At first she had not known what the paper was. She soon understood that it was a special clause to be appended to their Marriage Contract. The terms were simple.

Laniakea stared for a long while at the numbers with lines drawn through them.

When Hyperion had first brought the page, it had seemed so heavily weighted in her favor that she looked it over again and again, unable to believe it. He had pointed to the blank spaces and told her to fill in whatever she wished, without a burden on her mind. The terms were already to her advantage, and now she was to write the figures as freely as she liked.

Can this really be all right?

Being favored to this degree only made her uneasy. Even so, there was no sense in cutting down what she was allowed to receive. After hesitating a long while, Laniakea set down conditions a little more excessive than she had meant to ask. Two houses, and one hundred gold each month. That alone would let her live the life she wanted for the rest of her days, and if anything still fell short, was further support not already written there?

She filled in the numbers as greedily as she dared and handed the page back. His brow twitched. Then, in a low voice, as if calling her to account, he said,

"Terms like these? Are you in earnest?"

"What? No—is it too much after all? Then just one estate..."

Frightened, she was hurrying to amend the figures when Hyperion took up the pen, scored heavy lines through every number she had written, and entered new ones in their place. Ten residences of her choosing. A monthly allowance of ten thousand gold.

Laniakea accepted the paper he returned and blinked at it. Her eyesight seemed perfectly sound, so why did the numbers look so wrong?

"Ten? Even two seemed far too many..."

"A summer retreat and a winter retreat ought to be kept separately, and you will need a residence in the capital, and places to stay in some four of the provinces, will you not?"

"I... suppose so?"

He spoke so calmly, as if he were stating a fact too obvious to dispute, that she found herself nodding before she knew it.

"But the sum paid every month still seems far too much."

Ten thousand gold. Even if she left the palace and lived on her own, it was more than a year's expenses, and he meant to pay it every month? The image of herself swimming atop a heap of gold coins flickered through her mind. Luxury and vanity of that order. Was it all right?

While she floundered before the swollen figures, Hyperion spoke again, perfectly matter-of-fact.

"It is not even a tenth of the Empress's budget. Perhaps it ought to be raised further..."

"No! No, it's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fine!"

She caught his hand just as he reached again for the pen.

"...!"

Hyperion startled as if he had touched a flame and pulled his hand free.