“Unless there’s a rival rumor!” Headmaster Felix Faust cut in, his eyes and fingers lively with delight. “You’re lucky, Andō, thanks to Queen Yijun you’re going to have your wish.”

Spain turned at this invocation of his Chinese ancestress. “What?”

“You take after your grandmother quite strongly, Spain,” Faust answered, pointing to His Majesty’s perfectly straight black hair, “and it’s visible in your little Leonor as well. If it’s visible in this child too then a credulous public should be willing to believe it’s Andō’s.”

“Andō’s…” the King Prime Minister repeated.

Was the Chief Director’s frown embarassement? Or frustration that the old Brillist had read his thoughts? “My offer stands to take responsibility for the child,” he began, stepping forward to place a hand beside MASON’s upon Madame’s belly. “I know you will not lie to the public, Spain, but if a rumor spreads that I’m the father, it will divert gossip, and strong Mitsubishi ties on top of Masonic ones will firmly eliminate the chance of entanglements with the Spanish succession.”

“I don’t…” Spain hesitated, “… what about the Princesse?”

Duke Ganymede scowled on behalf of his married sister. “The rumor will wound her little compared to the fact that Andō needed to wait for today’s test to be sure it’s not his child.”

If the rebuke stung Andō, he did not show it. “I will support this plan,” he confirmed, “the adoption and the rumor. This will be best for your people, Spain, and for the bash’ that the group of us can almost be for this child.”

“And for Madame foremost.” Now MASON set his grim left hand upon the warm bulge that held the child, so his right could grasp Madame’s. “I have no doubt, Madame, that such a loving mother as yourself will not rest until you have made your son the most privileged child in the world. Safer for all of us, I think, to get it over with.”

As when Medusa’s stare makes stones of heroes, the room froze at Madame’s smiling silence as she weighed MASON’s words. “You are right, of course, Cornel,” she pronounced at last. “I would like nothing better than to give my child every privilege, and I shall commit my full resources to that end. But I cannot accept your offer, generous as it is.”

“May I know your reasons?”

“You’re entitled to know, my dear.” She squeezed his hand in hers, but sighed at the other, its black sleeve. “The Porphyrogene must be a Familiaris. I will not have my son in your power to execute at will, especially if, as you propose, he will be raised by all of us, and thus have sympathies for many rival fathers, tempting him to stray.”

MASON frowned. “You think I am looking for a legal excuse to kill your son? My affection for you aside, Madame, I and all here know what the consequences are of breaking friendship with you. You could destroy me.”

Her head slumped back against her pillow in a show of delicate fatigue. “You are the Masonic Emperor, Cornel. It is hard to believe you fear anything, besides your law.”