Aya is little used to having the opportunity to set her own priorities, but she likes it. She's not hurting for any material resources, and the organization of the attic would produce those more than anything else; and she has this entire bookshelf closer to hand. So the attic, which may or may not contain ghosts, languishes; and she steadily works through the book collection. Right now she is on the third in a series of myths from the old religion; this volume is about Aelare, the trickster.
"Because the stories are always different? Instead of the various formulas the other gods repeatedly fall into?"
He stops. Apparently this is a subject he gets passionate about.
"Huh." This is starting to look like a longer conversation; Aya notes her page number and sets the book down. "Personally, if I were a god I wouldn't take her strategy or that of the more conventional pantheon, but I suppose it's reasonable to form a preference between the two."
"I mean, if I were a god I'd be turning more stones into ducks and giving fewer people frogs' heads," he says. "But I'd still want to be Aelare a lot more than I'd want to be anyone else. I wouldn't do all the same things she does, but I'd like the - opportunity? I'd like not having to be part of anything I didn't want to be. I'd like being someone who specifically gets to never have to deal with anybody's expectations." He ducks his head shyly. "I, uh, used to think about it a lot when I was a kid."
"I didn't want to be any of the canonical bunch, no. Although I'd've taken the job title of the Queen of the Spheres."
"If I could get out of having any job title at all, ever - I mean, without causing a riot - I would. I'd rather be gem-eyed Aelare braiding moonbeams in my hair and giving people interesting bits of helpful magic than the Duke of Viore." He shrugs. "But I can't, so there it is."
"Well, I suppose once you take the title - or in advance, for the first steps - you could get married, have a kid, appoint your wife regent for your child, and abdicate to go doing whatever equivalent of moonbeam-braiding you can manage without having to actually be a god."
He shrugs. "I guess. Something tells me it'll look different when I'm Duke, though."
"Sometimes it's hard to tell what something's going to be like before it happens. I think being Duke is going to be one of those things."
"You think you'll learn something new about what dukes do, or that you don't know how you'll feel about it until it's for real?"
"The second one. Well, maybe the first, too. My father is a terrible Duke as far as I can tell."
"I wouldn't know. I've picked up details of politics only haphazardly and didn't grow up in Viore."
"I think the only thing stopping him from trying to run his province the way he runs his family is that he doesn't care enough. Luckily for the province."
"Has he at least got competent - assistants, subordinates, who pick up the slack? He's either smart or apathetic enough to pay Berete, maybe he's got a similar setup in governance."
"Father cares more about deference than competence. He only gets rid of people when they're caught lying to him or taking bribes from the wrong people or buying themselves fancy rugs with money they were supposed to send on bridge repair. As long as they're subtle about whatever they're doing wrong, they can keep right on doing it and he won't notice. And if someone who is good at their job forgets to call him 'your grace' one too many times, out they go."