Crown Prince Tobin watched his siblings file into the audience room from his not-quite-a-throne, next to his father’s actual throne.

They looked variously scared (Sandar), angry (Melenique), cynically amused (Jaspar), and bored (Ysabel). Julianna was already in tears, not a good example to set as the eldest, but she’d never had much steel in her.

Their father waved them to seats – hard, uncomfortable chairs, set in a row before the dais. They sat, like children waiting for their scolding from a stern tutor. Except they were all adults, it wasn’t a scolding, and it wasn’t a tutor, it was him.

Once they were suitably arrayed, the King spoke, more for the record-keepers than his children. That and he liked the sound of his own voice. “One of the tests for the heir to the throne in our kingdom is to allocate roles to his brothers and sisters. You are princes and princesses of Barkesh and it’s time you were of use to the kingdom. I trust your brother has made his choices wisely.”

So spoke the man who sent every one of his brothers into the army and married his sisters off to various cronies with no view to political gain.

Tobin stood, bowed to the throne, if not the man, then picked up a sheaf of papers.

“Sandar.”

His youngest brother stood. He was barely eighteen and their mother’s darling baby. Tobin had been told to make sure he was put somewhere safe, and close by. If that was what Sandar wanted, Tobin may have paid attention, but Sandar’s future was more important than the Queen’s indulgence.

“There will be a new ambassador travelling to the Imperial Court next month. You will accompany him as his secretary. Pay attention, study, get to know the people around you. I want to see you as an attaché, then ambassador, in future years.”

Sandar’s grin lit the room. “Thank you, Your Highness, I will do my best to make Barkesh proud.”

A good, diplomatic, answer, and clearly a welcome assignment. That was one he got right. Although they’d both have to deal with their mother later.

He sat and Melenique stood before he could say her name. “I suppose you’re marrying me off to some friend of yours to moulder away doing embroidery.”

She said embroidery the way most people would say slime. Tobin suppressed a smile. “Yes, I am marrying you off to some friend of mine but he’d rather you practice your sword skills than your needlework.”

Her jaw dropped, but no sound came out. He’d finally seen his sister lost for words.

He pretended to consult his papers. “We’ve had a very advantageous offer for your hand from the High Prince of Riddersand. He specifically mentions your skill with a sword and their tradition of having warrior queens.”

She squeezed her hands together, a sure sign she was excited, but she still had to argue. “What if I don’t like him when we meet?”

“You’ve already met him. And seemed to like him. He was the dark-haired guard who taught you that sword flip.”

“Oh.” Melenique’s cheeks were flaming red. “I suppose he’s acceptable.”

The King said her name in a threatening rumble. Melenique snapped her mouth closed, bobbed a curtsey and sat. Tobin pretended not to see the nudge and grin from Sandar, that she returned. He turned to Jaspar.

“Other brother.”

Jasper slouched up out of his chair. “Let me guess, army commander?”

Tobin snorted. “Hardly. I’m marrying you off too.”

This time everyone’s jaw dropped. Although why they were so surprised was anyone’s guess. Jaspar was as suited to army life as a peacock was to a pig farm.

“You’ll be travelling with Sandar to the Imperial Palace. The emperor has announced it’s time for the Crown Princess to marry. I have every faith in you, and believe you’ll make an excellent consort.”

“What if he doesn’t?” The King just had to interfere didn’t he.

“He’ll be at the Imperial Court, I’m sure we can trust him to find a suitable match.” Tobin looked his brother in the eye. “But if you’d rather come home, there will always be a place for you at my table, and I’ll find something suited to your skills.” Probably as his spymaster.

His father tutted. “You’re meant to be getting rid of them, not swearing eternal devotion.”

Jaspar bowed before Tobin could answer. “Thank you, for your trust in my abilities. I’ll win the Princess, never fear.”

“Ysabel.”

His nearest sister looked around, pretending she hadn’t been paying attention. “Oh, is it my turn? Who am I being married to?”

“No one, yet. I’m holding you in reserve.”

That made her scowl.

Tobin smirked and went on. “In the meantime, you’ll be apprenticed to the Chief Archivist. You’ve the best strategic mind of all of us and I want you on hand.”

Ysabel sighed, trying to hide the grin tugging at her lips. “If that is what you want, Brother.”

She sat and the room’s attention turned to the King’s firstborn, whose lip started to quiver as she stood, hands clasped tight in front of her.

The King spoke. “Don’t tell me you managed to get someone to take this quivering jellyfish off our hands.”

“Even better, Father. Julianna is going to heal a deep rift in the power base of the kingdom, and she doesn’t even have to be wed.”

“How?”

“The relationship between the Temple and the Crown has been uneasy for some time. Imagine the impression it will make, on the priesthood, and the people, if the First Princess chose to join the Temple as an apprentice priestess.”

Tobin turned to his sister, and in a gentler voice added. “If you’re prepared to do so, of course. I feel you’re the only one of us who would suit Temple life.”

Julianna swallowed hard, then replied, her voice firming as she spoke. “I’m prepared.”

The King muttered. “You know she’ll never make High Priestess.”

Tobin fought the urge to punch something, or someone.” “I know and am deeply thankful for it. She will show we’re not interested in controlling the Temple but working with them for the good of the people.”

His more cynical siblings rolled their eyes, but Julianna brightened. “Oh yes, I’d love to serve our people.”

Their father grunted. “Not how I would have disposed of them but the idea of keeping Ysabel on hand in case a future treaty comes up is a good one. Now all you have to do is tell their mother.”