Chapter 7

The Imperial estate in Oeiras was far larger than the ancestral estate the House of Sa'Liandel held in Calhames. Like other Imperial estates across the nation in capital vasilyet cities, it acted as a miniature palace for a traveling head of state. It could by no means replace what Vanya had burned down, but it projected the sense of Imperial rule that he needed more so than Calhames could at this time.

The Constellation Hall was a scaled-down version of the throne room that had once existed in the Imperial palace. Like in the Senate, it held a throne, this one carved with the oceanic and jungle motifs of the vasilyet it stood in. The embroidered cushions on the seat and back were comfortable enough and had become familiar over the many months he'd sat in it, even if the sea of faces before him changed with every court session.

Vanya held court once a week, allowing petitioners from businesses and guilds, representatives of major and minor Houses, and others to present themselves with social and business requests, looking for Imperial approval. It was rare Vanya issued writs on behalf of the Imperial throne, but it was also a way to take the pulse of his people.

Imperial Empress Zakariya, of the House of Sa'Liandel, had always held court, and that was a habit Vanya had not broken since his mother's death. It was an intimate political and social dance whose usual steps were upended this time by Soren's appearance with the Ashionens. Vanya was certain that news of Soren's return would reach representatives of the press the moment it was polite for anyone to leave, and from there, it would be in the broadsheets before sunset in cities across the country.

Every House would learn that Soren was known now as Prince Alasandair Rourke. That the warden Vanya had led into the royal crypts, who had been the catalyst for the sanctions levied against Solaria by the wardens, was himself a head of state. The repercussions of that would be nothing like what would come when the vow was brought to light and the debt Vanya owed had to be paid.

Vanya had to constantly remind himself not to reach for it, to ignore the weight of it in his pocket. The ghost of his past decision would haunt him soon enough, but for now, he had his subjects to meet. He kept his attention on his people, not the foreigners, hearing what was brought before him and taking everything under advisement, to be reviewed later with his Chief Minister and other advisers. An aide took discreet notes at a small standing writing desk tucked away near the wall but close enough to the throne dais to hear conversation. Taisiya sat in a grand seat beside the dais with Raiah in hand, his daughter on her best behavior.

The Ashionen delegation remained at the back, near the wall with its white-and-gold mosaic depicting the constellations of the six star gods. The Dawn Star's imagery was the most prominent, and Vanya couldn't look at it without remembering the way the golden tattoos had stood out against the dark skin of Callisto's throat. He kept his attention on the crowd, not on the constellations, but that didn't mean he could forget the Dawn Star's words from that morning last year to keep the warden close.

Vanya knew he couldn't, not when Soren had a road that couldn't cross his anymore.

When the presentations were finished, Vanya stood from his throne and stepped off the dais, mingling with the guests in the hall. It was how he always ended court, wanting to put a more personable touch on the proceedings than that of a removed, untouchable ruler. Servants passed by the small groups of people with trays of sweet red wine, the temperature in the room warm from the crowd. The mechanical fans in the corners helped keep the air moving, a soft hum that ran through the drone of conversation.

"I do hope you will take our request under advisement," the representative from the House of Aetos said. Otto wasn't of the main House, having been married into a distant branch of the bloodline. His presence was meant to be an insult despite the request for trade easement he came with. Having the Tovanians patrolling the coastline meant certain harbor restrictions that Seaville was apparently not pleased about on the east coast. It didn't impact trade with E'ridians, but it certainly did with Urovans.

Considering what Vanya knew of that country and its alliance with Daijal, he couldn't quite feel any sympathy for making it difficult for Urovan submersibles to find port.

"The safety of Solaria is important to me. Keeping our borders secure on land and at sea is integral to our sovereignty," Vanya said blandly.

Otto's smile was as sincerely insincere as one could get away with in this crowd. "Of course. The House of Aetos does not disagree with that, but business is important to the economy."

"The economy is worth nothing if our people are dead. The restrictions you protest are for the good of the country, and they will remain."

"Of course, Your Imperial Majesty." A passing servant paused to offer their tray of glasses, the sweet red wine with floating fruit filling each one. Otto reached for two glasses, offering one to Vanya with a sketch of a bow that nearly sloshed the liquid over the rims. "A toast, if you like, to Solaria."

The polite thing to do would be to acknowledge such loyalty to their country. Vanya took the wineglass, fingers slipping from some of the condensation. He raised it in a silent toast to Otto's words before taking a sip. Otto slipped away, replaced by yet another person looking to reinforce their earlier petition with a one-on-one chat.

After the second such conversation, Vanya found the heat in the Constellation Hall increasing despite the fans and the cool drink in his hand. The tips of his fingers started to tingle in a way he thought came from gripping the wineglass too tight until they spasmed. The wineglass slipped out of his grip, his attempt to hold on to it getting lost in the prickling hot awareness that something wasn't right. He didn't even feel it when the red wine splashed over his white robes before the wineglass shattered on the marble floor.

Poison, he thought as the noise in the Constellation Hall became curiously muffled. He could still breathe, but he wondered for how much longer.

The weakness spread, and he would've collapsed if someone didn't catch him, guiding him down to the floor. A hand framed his face, tipped his head back, and he found himself staring into beloved gray eyes wide with fear. "Vanya!"

He wanted to speak, wanted to say something more than the hurtful words they'd exchanged already that day, but he found his tongue wouldn't work. Soren looked away from him, talking to someone that Vanya couldn't see, and the numbing weakness was digging into his bones now with a fiery ache in his joints that made him want to flinch, but that seemed to take so much effort.

Soren took his hand that had held the wineglass and wiped it with a small piece of white paper that came away with streaks of orange-red across it. "He's been poisoned."

Vanya would have laughed at that statement because of course he had. Cold numbness vied with hot pain as his entire body jerked, heels clattering against the floor. His vision was blurring, and so he couldn't see what was pressed against his lips, but he felt it.

"Drink," Soren told him, still sounding so far away.

It felt like the aftermath of that train wreck so long ago that Vanya didn't question the order. Soren tipped Vanya's head back, and something bitter flowed over his tongue and down his throat. Vanya still had enough control left to swallow the liquid on his own. He closed his eyes, still breathing, still alive, listening desperately as sound slowly returned to him in increments. Eventually, so did the ability to move, hastened by another dose of whatever antidote Soren had given him.

"Otto," Vanya croaked out when he thought his tongue could form the syllables.

"Praetoria legionnaires have him in custody. He tried to leave the estate, but they barred him at the gate. It was a contact poison, not one you drank, and you've been out of it for a bit." Cool fingers touched his cheek, shaking ever so slightly, or maybe that was Vanya. "I need you to open your eyes, princeling."

The endearment cut through Vanya like a knife, causing him to suck in air too quickly, and he found himself coughing horrendously as the muscles in his chest spasmed. An arm curled beneath his shoulders, lifting him up so he wasn't completely supine. The new angle made it easier to breathe, and Vanya cracked open his eyes.

The Constellation Hall was empty of the Imperial court but filled with praetoria legionnaires. Soren was the one holding him, while Caelum knelt on his other side, appearing as white as Vanya's robes when they weren't stained.

"Raiah?" Vanya asked breathlessly.

"Taisiya is with her. They're both safe," Caelum said.

Vanya grunted, trying to get his fingers to move. One or two twitched, and he grimaced, blinking rapidly. "Can't feel."

"Give it a few more minutes. I gave you a broad antidote to start with, but someone had to bring me my gear so I could mix the correct one," Soren said.

Vanya managed a shallow nod, momentarily closing his eyes. He let Soren continue to hold him up, swallowed another dose of antidote when told to do so, and didn't question the way Soren dealt with Javier when the praetoria legionnaire major entered the Constellation Hall. Despite everything that had happened between them, Vanya hadn't removed Soren from his household, and Javier obeyed Soren's orders as if they were Vanya's.

"Was Otto a rionetka?" Soren asked.

"No scars and no veil hiding anything. He's alive and acted on his own free will," Javier said.

"Stupidly so, which means he wasn't a Blade. What House does he claim?"

"Aetos," Vanya muttered, clumsily lifting a hand to wipe at the sweat beading on his brow. He didn't know where his crown was but assumed someone had taken custody of it. Vanya opened his eyes, vision marginally better, though a throbbing was starting at his temples, promising a severe headache.

"They supported the House of Kimathi. Whatever orders he'll say he was given, the House of Aetos will deny any association with him. Something tells me there will be no proof of those orders."

"It's tradition for the Houses to deny such power grabs," Caelum said.

"Of course it is." Soren's annoyed disgust was clear for anyone to hear. "Is he of the bloodline, or did he marry in?"

"Married in."

"They'll repudiate him." And oh, despite his absence, Soren's knowledge of the Houses hadn't faded one bit, Vanya discovered. Soren touched two fingers to Vanya's throat, taking his pulse. "All right, princeling. How are you feeling?"

Vanya stared up at Soren's face, vision better than it had been even some minutes ago. The tingling numbness had faded almost everywhere except his fingers, but even he could tell that, too, would pass soon enough. The ache left behind in his muscles from the poison was painful in a way he knew the antidote couldn't fix. The tightness in his chest had nothing to do with surviving an assassination attempt and everything to do with the knowledge of how close he'd come to never having Soren by his side again. "Alive."

"But been better, I'm sure." Soren managed a tight smile, the pressure of his fingers easing but not leaving. Vanya found he didn't mind the lingering touch after so many months of going without. "Your healer is waiting for you in your room."

"What poison was it?"

"Nervbiyan. Otto smeared it on your wineglass using his rings. It's best absorbed through contact and doesn't have a smell, but nothing can mask how it tastes."

Vanya closed his eyes and took a deep breath, glad that it no longer hurt. "I would assume it was done on Joelle's orders."

"Most likely, but you won't find any House admitting to keeping an alliance with hers. Let's get you up."

Moving was far more painful than lying on the floor. It took both Caelum and Soren to get Vanya back on his feet, though his legs didn't quite want to support him. He slumped heavily against Soren, who took his weight without complaint, pulling Vanya's arm across his shoulders to steady him more. When he turned his head to speak, Soren's breath ghosted over Vanya's ear, making him shiver. "Can you walk?"

His mother had always said one must be seen to be believed they were amongst the living after an assassination attempt. "I will not be carried."

"Your stubbornness does you no favors, princeling."

But despite Soren's words, he still helped Vanya walk out of the Constellation Hall on his own two feet, his presence seen by many more praetoria legionnaires than had been present before and servants who would no doubt spread the news of his survival.

Soren helped him back to the private wing of the estate, where the Imperial household called home. Taisiya was there to greet them in the main receiving room with Vanya's personal magician skilled in healing magic, but Raiah was nowhere to be found.

"She's being tended to in your bedroom," Taisiya said, correctly reading the concern on his face. "I thought it best she see you more healed than you currently are."

To that, the magician gave a quick little bow. "If you would sit, Your Imperial Majesty. I will tend to you."

Intira was a magician who'd spent most of her life teaching magic at a civilian school in Calhames. She was older than Vanya but younger than Taisiya, with soft features and skin not weathered from the elements. Her healing ability was unparalleled, and ever since Basri, his House's previous magician, had died in the attack on the Imperial palace, Intira had been the one to care for Vanya and his House when needed.

Her clarion crystal–tipped wand was intricately made from carved wood and polished brass. The aether that flowed out of it was warm, her magic gentle as it settled over his body like a blanket, easing his pain. Vanya breathed in, the ache in his muscles fading, though her magic couldn't take away the cold knot of lingering fear in his gut.

He'd survived yet another assassination attempt, but it could have been so much worse if Soren hadn't been there.

Vanya searched for the warden, finding Soren standing outside the circle of people hovering around him, worried about Vanya the emperor, not the man beneath the crown. Soren caught his gaze, held it, before giving a slow nod of acknowledgment.

And then he left, slipping away, as if he knew he didn't belong in the epicenter of Solaria's government even if he'd long since burrowed his way into Vanya's heart.