“Oh, he must stay here with me!” came the Lady’s sweet but absolute reply. “He must have the proper tutors and attendants”—she smiled down at little Dominic—“and here he can spend time with His Majesty”—a nod to Spain—“and all of you, freely, outside the public eye. But I do think it would be a great thing for him to learn outside ways as well, and to see Alexandria, and Tōgenkyō.” A smile for Andō. “And, yes, Felix, you may take Him to the Institute.” A more teasing smile for her brother. “And I trust Your Grace too will be at His little Highness’s service, to tutor him in what you have learned dallying among the Humanists?”

Before this Matriarch, who had crafted him day by day and gene by gene but never let him speak the word ‘mother,’ the Duke could only take his place beside young Dominic and bow. “Of course, Madame. It will be an honor to aid in the Prince’s education.”

See victory in her smile.

“Good, I’ll need that,” the Emperor confirmed, smiling with unaccustomed warmth upon the Duke-consul, and winning in return a glance of blue perplexity. “I’ll need all of you. Precedent dictates that the porphyrogene should not be my successor. Nonetheless I hope our child will someday hold high office”—he squeezed Madame’s hand—“the world will expect it, in Romanova perhaps, or among the Humanists, or in another of your Hives. I want all of you to act as bash’parents, to spend time with the child, bring them to your capitals, teach them the ways and mind-sets of your Hives. I want you all to give them Minor offices when they’re old enough, so they can get to know all the Hive governments, and choose freely among them when they come of age.” He met the eyes of each colleague in turn. “I don’t want to make them Porphyrogene to take them away from the rest of you, I want to make them Porphyrogene so that all of us can spend as much time with our child as we like without the public finding anything strange in it, and so they can have a free choice of Hives, as all children should have. I know your objection, Andō,” MASON pressed before the Chief Director could interrupt, “but think carefully. Being Porphyrogene will not make our child a Mason, it will give them the freest choice of all, since they will grow up assuming that my seat—the only seat so tempting that it trumps all other choices—is not an option. I’m the only one who can take away that option, and thus make all others equally appealing.”

Doubt morphed to delight in faces around the room, then into doubt once more.

“What will you tell the public about the child’s parentage? It’ll be obvious it isn’t yours.” It was Censor Ancelet who had the thought first, his own dark African complexion making him acutely aware that he and deep bronze MASON were the two in the room who would least resemble this child of two pale parents. “The Celebrity Youth Act will seal the records, but if Spain spends a lot of time with the child people will talk.”