Free A Death in the Venetian Quarter by Alan Gordon Page B

merchant’s funeral, I entered the Empress’s chambers to find it in more of an uproar than usual. Her three daughters were there, engaged in a bout of competitive wailing, each on a different pitch, each on a different topic, while Euphy looked down from her throne with an exasperated expression.
    â€œThey can’t make him fight,” cried Irene. “He’s not well. He can’t help it if his injury flares up. He can’t even get out of bed.”
    â€œHe can’t because he won’t,” screamed Anna. “Which means my husband has to fling himself into the middle of battle just to keep the family honor intact, all because your husband’s a coward!”
    â€œAt least you have husbands,” sniffed Evdokia. “I’ll never find one in the midst of all this. It isn’t fair!”
    I am giving you the gist of their plaints. The actual oratory went on and on until Euphrosyne stood up. The motion was so sudden that everyone in the room stopped to watch her, except for the three daughters, who were building to a shrieking shrewfight and not paying attention.
    One should always pay attention to one’s mother, especially when she is powerful and insane. Fortunately, all she did this time was walk up to them and slap each in turn, Evdokia hard enough to send her sprawling.

    â€œWhy do you always hit me the hardest?” sniveled Evdokia from the floor.
    â€œBecause you need the most sense knocked into you,” I answered before Euphy could say anything.
    The Empress turned and stared at me, and I wondered for a moment if I had overstepped my bounds, but then she broke into a broad smile.
    â€œThe fool speaks wisely, daughter,” she said to Evdokia. “As usual. Good morning, Aglaia. How are you today?”
    â€œWell, Your Grace, and thank you for asking,” I replied, then I gave that statement the lie by rushing out of the chamber to spill the contents of my stomach into a rather ancient urn.
    I returned as soon as I was able to find Euphy back on the throne.
    â€œCome here, woman,” she ordered, and I walked up the three steps a bit unsteadily to stand on the platform next to her.
    She took my head between her hands and peered closely into my eyes.
    â€œYou’re with child!” she exclaimed.
    I nodded.
    â€œMy apologies, Your Grace,” I said. “The morning sickness caught me unawares.”
    â€œPerfectly acceptable,” she said. “Is this your first?”
    â€œYes,” I said, lying again. There was no need for her to know my background. There were two children from my first marriage, but they were being raised by a regent since the death of my first husband.
    â€œWell, you must come to me for advice,” she pronounced proudly. “I know everything there is about raising children.”
    There were looks of disbelief on three of the faces in the room, but they prudently refused to challenge this assertion.
    â€œAs for Your Petty Lownesses,” she continued, addressing her daughters, “I want you to start putting some iron in your spines. We show a united front to the people, no matter what the truth is. One of you
will be Empress after me, but only if you deserve it. Most likely Anna, I think. She’s the only one who married a real man.”
    â€œI married a fine man,” protested Irene.
    â€œHe was fine enough when you married him,” said Euphy. “That’s why I picked him for you. Marry your daughters to generals, keep the stock strong, that was my thinking. Too bad he had the accident. Even worse that he survived it, if you ask me. If he had died right away, we could have found you someone better by now.”
    â€œYou didn’t find me any great prize,” muttered Evdokia, her cheek still reddened from the blow it received.
    â€œThat was your father’s doing, not mine,” said the Empress. “What did you expect? You’re the youngest, your only