"Not necessarily," I replied.
"That ans yes in your father’s words," Abi said helpfully.
I looked at him.
He shrugged. "What? It really does."
"Uncle Abi," Spiro asked, "will you protect my Father?"
Abi’s expression changed. It was brief, but I saw it.
The careless laughter faded, leaving behind sothing evidently ancient and deep. His athyst eyes softened in an unfamiliar way as he looked at the child.
"Of course," he said. "He is my brother, after all."
The fact that I am a swordmaster myself and not a fragile little noble seed to have escaped these people.
I almost made a cutting remark.
But the words did not co.
How annoying.
Spiro nodded, reassured. "Then it will be fine."
This child was too trusting in so ways and too guarded in others. A strange combination, really. He was like a small blade sheathed in soft cloth.
I folded the letter and placed it on the table.
"William, arrange preparations for tomorrow evening. Make it quiet. I do not want the estate looking as though we expect an ambush."
"Are we expecting one?" Abi asked.
"We expect possibilities."
"That ans yes," Spiro murmured.
I turned toward him.
He straightened. "Sorry, Father."
I sighed. "No, you are correct."
His eyes widened slightly, as if my acknowledgnt surprised him.
How low were this child’s expectations for adults?
I disliked that question.
"Have additional Sonomi guards rotate discreetly around the estate," I continued.
"Not visibly enough to alarm guests, but enough to respond should soone take an interest in my absence tomorrow."
William bowed. "Understood."
"Also send a ssage to our people near the palace. I want observation on who enters and exits the archive wing until tomorrow evening."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"And have the report on Spiro’s caravan ready by morning."
Spiro went still.
I did not look at him.
Neither did William, bless his competence.
"Of course."
The maid left, and William followed shortly after. The sitting room returned to quiet, though it was no longer peaceful. The empress’s letter sat on the table like a silver spider.
Abi leaned back, pastry forgotten. "The empress moves quickly."
"Too quickly."
"It looks like she wants you there."
"That much is obvious."
"Why?"
"That is what we will find out."
"You are enjoying this."
"I am quite burdened, actually."
"You enjoy being burdened. Especially if it’s things you find fun."
"I will burden you with silence if you continue."
He laughed softly.
Spiro tugged lightly at my sleeve. I looked down.
"Father," he said, "what is in the lower vault?"
"Just so old things."
"Are they important things?"
"Most likely they are."
"Dangerous things too?"
"All important old things are dangerous if people are stupid enough."
He nodded very seriously, as if this was another principle to be written down.
Perhaps I should have him keep an actual notebook of my teachings.
No.
That would be dangerous evidence if my mother ever read it.
"Will you co back late tomorrow?" he asked.
"Most likely."
His expression dimd.
I tapped the map lightly. "Then we shall finish this lesson now, and tomorrow morning, you may ask three questions about Sonomi."
His eyes brightened. "Only three?"
"You are not allowed to negotiate."
"Can one question have smaller questions inside it?"
Abi burst out laughing.
I stared at Spiro.
The child looked back with an innocent expression that was not innocent at all.
Oh? He had learned loopholes already.
I felt a little proud and dood at the sa ti.
"One question may not contain a litter of smaller questions," I said.
"What if they are related?"
"Still a no."
"What if I need clarification?"
"That is different."
"Then clarification questions do not count?"
I narrowed my eyes. He looked at with wide amber eyes.
Abi was already wheezing.
This little fox.
Fine.
Konstantin blood indeed. I can’t question that. I was worse when I was a child.
"Clarifications do not count if I deem them reasonable."
Spiro smiled.
"Thank you, Father."
I had the uncomfortable suspicion that I had just lost a negotiation to a child.
No matter.
A strategic retreat was still strategy.
We resud the map lesson. Spiro asked about Sonomi’s capital city, the major oasis settlents, the reason transfer portals malfunctioned near Lorillis, and whether griffins preferred at cooked or raw. The last one was not related to geography, but it was a clarification, apparently.
I allowed it because I was magnanimous. Certainly not because his eyes lit up every ti I answered.
Definitely not.
Later, when the hour grew late, William returned to escort Spiro to bed. The boy closed the geography prir with visible reluctance, but he did not protest.
At the doorway, he turned back.
"Father."
"Yes?"
"May the desert remain kind beneath your steps."
The room went silent.
The phrase was softly spoken, careful, and sincere.
This was prayer for blessing from the East.
A phrase rarely used outside Sonomi. An obscure phrase.
The sa one the Crown Prince had written.
I looked at Spiro.
"Where did you learn that?"
His face stiffened. I could visibly see the crack widening.
"I..." He swallowed. "I saw it in the book. I heard it around."
The geography prir did not contain such phrases.
I knew because it had been printed for noble children in the Capital, and Capital publishers had the cultural depth of ornantal ponds.
The second reason seed more believable if not for the fact that I know even our people here do not say it.
Abi slowly turned his head toward as William went very still.
Spiro’s fingers tightened around the book, realizing his mistake.
I held his gaze for a long mont.
The room seed too quiet again.
Then I smiled gently.
"Thank you, Spiro. That is a good blessing," I said.
His eyes widened.
I continued, "Use it carefully. Words from the desert are not decorations."
His lips parted slightly. Then he nodded.
"Yes, Father."
"Good. Go sleep."
William escorted him out.
The door closed.
The mont the child’s footsteps faded, Abi spoke.
"He was lying."
"I know even if you do not tell ."
"He knows more than he says."
"I am aware."
"He is not an ordinary child."
"That has been established since we found him."
Abi stared at .
"You are being too calm about this."
"Trust , I am not."
"Well, you look calm."
"My face is a masterpiece of deception."
"Should we question him?"
"No."
Abi tilted his head. "Why not?"
"Because frightened children hide deeper."
"And patient fathers wait?"
I looked at him.
His smile softened. "You are not denying it."
"I deny many things but I do so internally. It saves ti."
He chuckled, but his amusent was quieter this ti.
I picked up the empress’s letter again, though my mind remained on Spiro.
Boleoti. The northern routes. A hidden child with amber eyes from blood seal gone wrong. A forgotten Sonomian blessing. Too much poise and too many questions.
The boy was a box with a lock.
I could break it open forcefully.
But broken boxes did not protect what was inside.
How troubleso.
"William," I said when he returned.
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"Double the discretion on the caravan investigation. If the trail leads to Boleoti, inform no one outside our people."
His eyes sharpened. "Understood."
"And Spiro’s room?"
"A knight is stationed discreetly nearby."
"Add one more."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Abi leaned forward. "Do you think soone may co for him?"
"I think soone discarded him. Sotis people regret throwing away valuable things."
Especially when those things survive.
Especially when those things beco Konstantin.
The thought filled with a cold, quiet displeasure.
It was not anger. At least not yet.
Anger was loud and ssy. It did not fit my style.
"If anyone cos for him," I said, "they had best arrive with a will prepared."
William bowed.
"Of course, Your Excellency."
Abi smiled.
This ti, there was nothing teasing in it.
"How villainous."
"Yes," I said.
Finally.
A proper word for it.
The next morning arrived with mist clinging to the garden and a report waiting on my desk.
I had slept poorly.
Not because of fear. That would be absurd. The world lack many things for to fear aside from my mother.
I slept poorly because my mind kept circling the sa points like a vulture with scholarly tendencies.
Lorillis as a na. The lower vault. The empress’s invitation. The Crown Prince’s illness. Spiro’s lie. And that sothing beneath gold.
Even after washing, dressing, and drinking tea strong enough to revive a dead bureaucrat, my mood remained brittle.
Then I opened Bernard’s preliminary report. And my mood sank even more.
The slave trader who transported Spiro had operated under a false rchant license issued through a minor northern trade office.
The caravan’s declared cargo consisted of wool, preserved herbs, and decorative crystal ware. Yet among the wreckage, my knights had found high-grade Boleoti gems, several unregistered family-marked containers, and a hidden compartnt large enough for a child.
The trader’s na was false. Even the guards’ nas were false.
But the route permit was real.
It was signed under authority connected to a Boleoti household steward.
Oh?
Now that was interesting.
I turned the page.
The rchant company had been created only three weeks before departure. Their funds had passed through two interdiaries.
One in the North and one in the Capital.
The Capital interdiary had connections to a charity patronized by several noblewon, including one associated with the temple.
I leaned back.
The threads were thin, but they were there. They existed.
The Northern Boleoti household. Slave traderd and Capital interdiary with temple-adjacent charity.
And a child who knew too much.
"How troubleso," I murmured.
William stood across from , expression grave. "Shall we send inquiries to Boleoti?"
"No."
"Your Excellency?"
"If Spiro was ant to disappear, asking questions openly will alert the people responsible."
"And if the Duke of Boleoti himself is unaware?"
"Then he is either incompetent, compromised, or prevented from knowing. Nothing surprising there though. That little lion is worse than an orange tabby."
William’s face hardened. My snide comnts aside, he did not like any of those options.
Neither did I.
Despite my utter lack of confidence in its head, Boleoti was not a minor house. It was one of the empire’s great ducal families, old enough to deserve caution and proud enough to be inconvenient. If rot had entered that house, it mattered.
If a child from there ended up in a barrel headed for Lorillis, it mattered even more.
I did not yet know how.
But my instincts were rarely wrong.
"Continue with the investigation," I said. "Find the steward. Find the charity. Find the Capital interdiary. But do not touch them yet."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
The day passed uneventfully.
Spiro asked his three questions after breakfast, and sohow turned them into eight clarifications, two hypotheticals, and one philosophical inquiry about whether a desert could belong to people if people could never truly control it.
I answered.
Because it was an annoyingly good question.
Abi watched us the entire ti with a faint smile, which I ignored. By noon, I sent Spiro to rest. By afternoon, I reviewed Sonomi’s copy of the founding oath.
It really was different.
Not drastically and not enough for a careless reader to notice. But the invocation lines were different.
The imperial copy said:
Before the witness that sleeps beneath gold.
The Sonomi copy said:
Before Lorillis, who keeps the sleeping gold.
The difference was small but the implications were not.
One frad the witness as sothing hidden beneath the desert while the other frad Lorillis as the keeper of whatever slept there.
It could be a person or a being. A title or so kind of force. Or maybe all of the above.
I disliked having too many possibilities.
By the ti evening arrived, I had read the line enough tis to feel it carved behind my eyes.
Abi entered my study without knocking typical of him.
"Why are you glaring at a paper?" he said.
"The paper deserves it."
"Does it?"
"It is being hatefully cryptic."
"Oh. How rude of it."
I looked up. He was already dressed in his violet robes again, though tonight the silver patterns seed darker, less decorative and more like winding script. He looked less like expensive sin and more like a warning so ancient civilization had failed to heed.
"I see you’re prepared?" I asked.
"I see that you’re not."
"No."
He blinked.
I stood and adjusted my cuffs. "But I am going."
His grin returned. "There is the brother I know."
"Why do you sound so proud?"
"I am proud."
"How unfortunate."
We left the estate under a quiet sky.
This ti, there was no ceremonial carriage procession. No herald or ballroom or glittering crowd pretending not to watch. There was only a sealed palace carriage sent by the empress, two imperial riders, and the faint sense of walking into a room where soone had already hidden the knives.
At the palace, we were led through a side entrance.
The corridors beca colder the deeper we went. The walls shifted from polished white stone to older gray masonry veined with preservation runes. Lamps burned with blue-white fla, casting long shadows that did not move quite as they should.
The palace had layers. Maybe all palaces did. The visible one was a jeweled fortress. But beneath it was an older structure, one built before the empire had learned to soften its edges.
We reached a sealed door guarded by six knights and two mages.
The Crown Prince was already there and so was the empress.
Empress Lyrien was dressed in silver and deep blue, her golden hair pinned beneath a delicate circlet. In daylight, she had seed serene. Here, beneath the archive lamps, she looked sharper and colder, less like a mother of the empire and more like a woman who had survived long enough to beco dangerous quietly.
She looked like the type I respected.
Lord Keeper Marcellus stood beside her, the serpent key hanging from his neck.
"Your Excellency," the empress greeted.
I bowed. "Your Majesty."
Her gaze moved to Abi. "Lord Abinatha."
Abi smiled. "Your Majesty."
She studied him for one breath too long. Then her gaze returned to .
"I hear you found several faults in our exhibition."
"Only several, Your Majesty. I was being rciful."
The Crown Prince looked down while Marcellus’s mouth tightened.
The empress smiled. It was beautiful but not warm.
"Then I hope tonight’s viewing proves more satisfactory."
"So do I."
Marcellus stepped forward and inserted the serpent key into the sealed door.
The runes awakened.
A low vibration rolled through the corridor.
It wasn’t a sound exactly, more like a signal of rcognition.
Abi’s expression changed.
I felt my ring grow cold against my finger.
Sowhere deep below, sothing old seed to exhale.
The door opened with darkness waiting beyond it.
And for the first ti since arriving in the Capital, I felt the faintest sensation that I was not the only one watching.
Hah. How very impolite.
User Comments
0 comments from readers