“And?” Clinkscales prompted when Prestwick paused.

“And if he does want the Harrington Key and we don’t offer it to him, he might sue to force us to surrender it to him.”

“Sue the Protector and the Conclave?” Clinkscales stared at him in disbelief, and the Chancellor shrugged.

“Why not? He could make an excellent case before our own High Court… and an even better one before the Queen’s Bench. It would be interesting to see which venue he chose and how the case was argued, I suppose. But then, I imagine watching a bomb count down to detonation beside you is probably ‘interesting’ while the adventure lasts, too.”

“But… but you’re the Protector!” Clinkscales protested, turning back to his liege, and Benjamin shrugged.

“Certainly I am. But I’m also the man trying to reform the planet, remember? And if I’m going to insist that my steadholders give up their autonomy and abide by the Constitution, then I have to abide by it, as well. And the constitutional precedent on this point is unfortunately clear. I can be sued—not in my own person, but as Protector and head of state—to compel me to comply with existing law. And under the Constitution, treaties with foreign powers have the force of law.” He shrugged again. “I don’t really think a suit would succeed before our own High Court, given our existing inheritance laws, but it could drag on for years, and the effect on the reforms and possibly even on the war effort could be most unfortunate. Or he could sue in a Manticoran court, in which case he might well win and leave our government at odds with the Star Kingdom’s while both of us are fighting for our lives against the Peeps. Not good, Howard. Not good at all.”

“I agree,” Clinkscales said, but his eyes were narrow again. He put the heel of his staff between his feet and grasped its shaft in both hands, leaning forward in his chair, while he regarded his Protector with suspicion. “I agree,” he repeated, “but I also know you pretty well, Your Grace, and I feel something nasty coming. You’ve thought this through already, and you’d decided what you wanted to do before you ever summoned me, hadn’t you?”

“Well… yes, actually,” Benjamin admitted.

“Then spit it out, Your Grace,” the old man commanded grimly.

“It’s not complicated, Howard,” Benjamin assured him.

“Will you please stop trying to ‘prepare’ me and get on with it?” Clinkscales growled, and added, “Your Grace,” as an afterthought.

“All right. The solution is to transfer the Harrington Key to the Grayson who has the best claim on it… and the most experience in carrying it, at least by proxy,” Benjamin said simply.

Clinkscales stared at him in utter silence for fifteen seconds, and then jerked to his feet.

“No! I was her Regent, Benjamin—only her Regent! I would never— It would— Damn it, she trusted me! I could never… never usurp her Key! That would—”

“Sit down, Howard!” Command cracked in Benjamin’s voice for the first time, and the three words cut Clinkscales off in mid protest. He closed his mouth, still staring at the Protector, then sank back into his chair once more, and a fragile silence hovered.