“It’s so late, it’s early,” said
Tyman as he pulled back a curtain to let in the morning
sun.
“Always so quick with the blatantly obvious, aren’t you, father?” Redd began to undress, turning away from her parents to avoid having to explain her bloodshot eyes. “Rose,” Theodora said to her backside, “I don’t know if we’ve somehow failed you as parents or if your behavior comes from chemical imbalances brought on by your ferocious decadence. But your constant disobedience—not only of me and your father but of the queendom’s most basic laws, as if these should apply to everybody else but not to you—your disregard of even common civilities, and your utter lack of respect for how government works…you’re far beyond merely alienating those you would need to help you govern effectively.”
“It is they who’ve alienated me!” Redd shouted, spinning round. “Raising your voice will accomplish nothing.” “Rose, have you been…ingesting artificial crystal?” Tyman asked. “Don’t be stupid, father.”
“In any case,” Theodora went on, “I don’t see how you can effectively govern a nation when you are unable to govern yourself. I’m sorry. But you’re not to be queen.” Redd laughed. “Of course I am, mother. I’m the eldest; I’m the heir. Nothing can change that.” “I can change it. Your imagination might be as powerful as you believe—certainly you would have made a formidable monarch. But partaking more of Black Imagination than White as you do, I’m removing you from succession. Genevieve is to be queen.” “Genevieve!”
Objects in the room became suddenly kinetic—jewelry cases, books, holo-crystals, and end tables shot from their usual places and smashed against one another. “And we think it best,” Tyman said, ducking to avoid a flying lamp that shattered against a wardrobe, “if you live on Mount Isolation for a time.” “That rotten old place?”
“We’re hopeful that living in relative isolation will have a sobering effect on you,” Theodora explained. “You will not have the same amenities there as you enjoy here and, we hope, less opportunity to indulge your ruder appetites.”
A phalanx of chessmen marched into the room. “What’s this, an escort to my new home?” Redd jeered. “I could send these mediocrities to oblivion with a single strike of my imagination.”
“You forget, Rose, that I have powers of imagination too,” Theodora warned. “And I am more practiced in the use of them. You will kill no one, though if you so much as try, I assure you, for all intents and purposes, you will be as good as dead to your father and me.” “This hurts us as much as it hurts you,” Tyman said. “Not yet it doesn’t, my dear dim father. But it will. It will hurt you both much worse, I swear.”
“Always so quick with the blatantly obvious, aren’t you, father?” Redd began to undress, turning away from her parents to avoid having to explain her bloodshot eyes. “Rose,” Theodora said to her backside, “I don’t know if we’ve somehow failed you as parents or if your behavior comes from chemical imbalances brought on by your ferocious decadence. But your constant disobedience—not only of me and your father but of the queendom’s most basic laws, as if these should apply to everybody else but not to you—your disregard of even common civilities, and your utter lack of respect for how government works…you’re far beyond merely alienating those you would need to help you govern effectively.”
“It is they who’ve alienated me!” Redd shouted, spinning round. “Raising your voice will accomplish nothing.” “Rose, have you been…ingesting artificial crystal?” Tyman asked. “Don’t be stupid, father.”
“In any case,” Theodora went on, “I don’t see how you can effectively govern a nation when you are unable to govern yourself. I’m sorry. But you’re not to be queen.” Redd laughed. “Of course I am, mother. I’m the eldest; I’m the heir. Nothing can change that.” “I can change it. Your imagination might be as powerful as you believe—certainly you would have made a formidable monarch. But partaking more of Black Imagination than White as you do, I’m removing you from succession. Genevieve is to be queen.” “Genevieve!”
Objects in the room became suddenly kinetic—jewelry cases, books, holo-crystals, and end tables shot from their usual places and smashed against one another. “And we think it best,” Tyman said, ducking to avoid a flying lamp that shattered against a wardrobe, “if you live on Mount Isolation for a time.” “That rotten old place?”
“We’re hopeful that living in relative isolation will have a sobering effect on you,” Theodora explained. “You will not have the same amenities there as you enjoy here and, we hope, less opportunity to indulge your ruder appetites.”
A phalanx of chessmen marched into the room. “What’s this, an escort to my new home?” Redd jeered. “I could send these mediocrities to oblivion with a single strike of my imagination.”
“You forget, Rose, that I have powers of imagination too,” Theodora warned. “And I am more practiced in the use of them. You will kill no one, though if you so much as try, I assure you, for all intents and purposes, you will be as good as dead to your father and me.” “This hurts us as much as it hurts you,” Tyman said. “Not yet it doesn’t, my dear dim father. But it will. It will hurt you both much worse, I swear.”