was, first of all, invariant—more than invariant, in fact, it was unchanging. Each morning, he was awakened by the Orb at the seventh hour after midnight. At 7:02 a servant entered, bringing him, in a silver cup decorated with emeralds, klava with six drops of honey and a dash of cinnamon. He permitted himself only eight minutes to drink it, after which he began his morning toilet, finishing with dressing which, for reasons never revealed, he preferred to do himself. These procedures consumed thirty minutes, so that at precisely 7:40 he was ready to greet his ensign—or, rather, his Captain of the Guards, who conducted him on his “morning rounds,” which consisted of walking by certain doors and commanding them to be opened—the official beginning of the day in the Imperial Palace.
The rounds ended back at his apartments (it was, in fact, because his walk described what was in effect a circle that they were called “the rounds”) where, at 8:50, after dismissing the Captain (actually, until today, the Ensign), he broke his fast with klava, this time served in a silver cup decorated with rubies, and without the cinnamon; usually a smoked fish served at room temperature; dark or sour bread which had been toasted over a redwood fire and might have butter or goat’s cheese on it; and some form of noodle covered with either goat’s cheese or butter—the counterpoint, be it understood, to the bread.
After breaking his fast, he arrived at 10:00 in the Portrait Room, where he
was accustomed to meet with any High Lords (meaning Dukes) and Princes (meaning Heirs) who had business with him. In fact, if there were any such, they usually met with Jurabin, who only interrupted His Majesty if it were necessary. The Emperor actually spent this time gossiping with the court gossips and jesting with the court jesters.
Visitors were asked to leave the Portrait Room, and its doors were closed, in time for His Majesty’s Hour of Relaxation, which began at 11:45 and continued for an hour and a quarter. During this time, His Majesty might walk, or fence, or read, or even decide to cancel his afternoon appointments and go off to the Imperial Preserve to hunt the athyra, the wild boar, or other such game as might interest him.
Usually, however, the door would be opened at 13:00, and meetings with High Lords and Heirs would continue until the Lunch Hour, 14:15. When the weather was fine, His Majesty would eat his lunch on the terrace immediately adjacent to the Portrait Room (which caused a certain amount of difficulty for the staff, as there was no kitchen nearby); when the weather was poor, His Majesty would dine either in his own apartments, if he wished to be alone, or in the Table Room, if he desired the company of one of the Gentlemen of his Household (those to whom we have earlier referred, ironically but truthfully, as gossips and jesters). In any case, lunch would usually consist of assorted fruits (fresh in the summer and fall, dried in the winter and early spring) and possibly an omelet or some other dish made with hen’s eggs, because His Majesty pretended that eating eggs every day was vital to maintaining his health and virility.
After allowing a mere forty-five minutes for lunch—in other words, at exactly noon—His Majesty would be back in the Portrait Room, which would now be open (at least in theory) to anyone who wished to speak with His Majesty on any subject at all. This was, in point of fact, his busiest time, and it was not uncommon for the press of Imperial business to actually impinge upon his banter and conversation with the ladies and gentlemen of the court.
At 1:30 he would retire to the Seven Room, or the Fireside Room, or the Glass Room, to meet privately with anyone Jurabin felt it necessary for him to charm (he could, indeed, be very charming when he put his mind to it), or to learn about the doings of the Empire when it came into his head to take an interest, or to speak with Jurabin if the
The rounds ended back at his apartments (it was, in fact, because his walk described what was in effect a circle that they were called “the rounds”) where, at 8:50, after dismissing the Captain (actually, until today, the Ensign), he broke his fast with klava, this time served in a silver cup decorated with rubies, and without the cinnamon; usually a smoked fish served at room temperature; dark or sour bread which had been toasted over a redwood fire and might have butter or goat’s cheese on it; and some form of noodle covered with either goat’s cheese or butter—the counterpoint, be it understood, to the bread.
After breaking his fast, he arrived at 10:00 in the Portrait Room, where he
was accustomed to meet with any High Lords (meaning Dukes) and Princes (meaning Heirs) who had business with him. In fact, if there were any such, they usually met with Jurabin, who only interrupted His Majesty if it were necessary. The Emperor actually spent this time gossiping with the court gossips and jesting with the court jesters.
Visitors were asked to leave the Portrait Room, and its doors were closed, in time for His Majesty’s Hour of Relaxation, which began at 11:45 and continued for an hour and a quarter. During this time, His Majesty might walk, or fence, or read, or even decide to cancel his afternoon appointments and go off to the Imperial Preserve to hunt the athyra, the wild boar, or other such game as might interest him.
Usually, however, the door would be opened at 13:00, and meetings with High Lords and Heirs would continue until the Lunch Hour, 14:15. When the weather was fine, His Majesty would eat his lunch on the terrace immediately adjacent to the Portrait Room (which caused a certain amount of difficulty for the staff, as there was no kitchen nearby); when the weather was poor, His Majesty would dine either in his own apartments, if he wished to be alone, or in the Table Room, if he desired the company of one of the Gentlemen of his Household (those to whom we have earlier referred, ironically but truthfully, as gossips and jesters). In any case, lunch would usually consist of assorted fruits (fresh in the summer and fall, dried in the winter and early spring) and possibly an omelet or some other dish made with hen’s eggs, because His Majesty pretended that eating eggs every day was vital to maintaining his health and virility.
After allowing a mere forty-five minutes for lunch—in other words, at exactly noon—His Majesty would be back in the Portrait Room, which would now be open (at least in theory) to anyone who wished to speak with His Majesty on any subject at all. This was, in point of fact, his busiest time, and it was not uncommon for the press of Imperial business to actually impinge upon his banter and conversation with the ladies and gentlemen of the court.
At 1:30 he would retire to the Seven Room, or the Fireside Room, or the Glass Room, to meet privately with anyone Jurabin felt it necessary for him to charm (he could, indeed, be very charming when he put his mind to it), or to learn about the doings of the Empire when it came into his head to take an interest, or to speak with Jurabin if the
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