Back to the subject, he thought, leaning back. The idea of polygamy had seemed obscene when Edward first mentioned it, but the longer he thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed to become. As a matter of morality, her argument that monogamy at this point was tantamount to racial suicide had a certain validity, and suicide was a sin. And her argument that marriage laws could be changed was also valid; the Modern Saints had been branded heretics not because of their polygamy but because they had claimed Shayan to be Jeshua's brother. And the theologians were still arguing about that …
Then there was his responsibility, as Sovereign, for his subjects' welfare, which tied in with his personal desire to leave his descendants a prosperous, expanding group of Systems … which he wouldn't be able to do without some fairly drastic action. If he didn't, in a few generations there would be no Kingdom Systems—a fact he'd known for some time, but had avoided thinking about because there seemed to be no solution.
Now, though, he'd been handed a chance, if he could arrange to implement it. Keep Cortin the focus of whatever happened as a result, of course; even the best Inquisitor was more expendable than royalty. From Edward's report on the airborne conference, Bishop-Colonel Bradford ought to be willing to help get Church approval for Enforcement to formalize the informal group marriages it was rumored they had in some of the more remote areas.
Remote areas? The High King smiled as an idea took form. He'd have to discuss it with his lesser monarchs, because of their agreement that all Royal Inquisitors hold the same rank—but it promised a place for Cortin to offer anyone who wanted a group marriage but didn't want the notoriety that would inevitbly accompany the first ones. It would also—a not inconsiderable benefit—silence My Lord of New Colorado's complaints about having to administer territories that cost his Dukedom more than the revenues they generated. Those complaints were justified, the King admitted—but he was incredibly tired of hearing them!
That would have to wait, though. The King switched on his intercom, spoke to his secretary. "Peter, get hold of Bishop-Colonel Bradford. I want to see him as soon as he can get here."
Cortin disliked the reception, leaving as soon as she thought it would be socially acceptable, intending to indulge herself with a new subject. Once she got back to the Lodge, though, she decided she was too tired to do a proper job of starting an interrogation, and Brady said most of the men had gone to the New Eden joyhouse. So she might as well make an early night of it; after a hot soaking bath, she went to bed and quickly fell asleep.
Fifteen years disappeared; it was the night after Graduation, and Mike was holding her close after their first lovemaking, smiling down at her. "Marry me, Joanie?"
"Of course, beloved." Cortin returned his smile, giving him a lingering kiss.
They were married soon after, and she found that married life agreed with her; she remained in the Service, but instead of going into the field as she'd planned, she took postgraduate work and became an Inquisitor. That let her spend time with her husband, when he wasn't out on a mission, and with the three children they had. The youngest was almost a year old when Mike came home with a pleased expression that told her he'd contracted the Satyr Plague.