I cross the hall, and Albion nods at me, stepping away to give us privacy.
Leon turns back to the statue of Viderux. “I figured I’d see you at some point today,” he says without looking at me. Dropping a few coins into a collection at the statue’s feet, he heaves a sigh. “I always thought Kassia would be bored in the afterlife. I bet she’s stirring up trouble.”
I let out a wet laugh, and the corner of his mouth turns up. When he pins me with his steely gaze, I know he won’t talk to me about Kassia again. “Follow me.”
We leave the hall in silence, passing Albion, who kneels before Kelindra, grief etched into every line of his face.
Leon gestures for me to enter his room, closing the door behind us.
I wander his room, suddenly restless. Gods, I wish we could look out a window. “Can I ask you something?”
A stiff nod.
“Why did you never register Thalunia’s blessings?”
Blessings from the gods are supposed to be immediately reported to the emperor. Leon had kept his own blessings quiet, and he’d warned Kas and me to do the same.
“Those who are blessed by the gods have a strange way of going missing … or worse. The emperor has an obsession with consolidating power—creating bloodlines he can control. That’s why so many members of the Sigilmarked Syndicate end up in marriages he arranges. Blessings from the gods are rare and erratic, often appearing where they’re least convenient. When they show up in someone who hasn’t proven loyalty to Vallius Corvus, those he can use are leashed, forced to do his bidding.”
My stomach twists at the thought.
“If I’d registered Thalunia’s blessings, all of us would have been monitored for the rest of our lives. Or worse. Thalunia didn’t give any of us anything flashy, and you and Kassia could pass your speed off as the product of rigorous training.” Unexpected humor flashes in his eyes and I can’t help but laugh.
Rigorous training indeed.
Leon crosses the room, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed. He gestures toward the chair. “Tell me about Cotta.”
Bitterness coats my tongue as I drop into the chair. “I fucked up, Leon. Tiberius was a good man. He was one of the only people trying to help the mundanes. He was responsible for the tax cuts in the Thorn last year, did you know that?”
A muscle twitches in his jaw. “Yes, you fucked up. And now you’re going to have to live with it. But you don’t have time to wallow in it now. So what will you do next?”
I hunch my shoulders. Iamwallowing in it. But he’s right.
“I can’t kill Bran. The bond won’t allow it.”
“You need to get close to the emperor.”
I blow out a breath, standing to pace. “Even before I killed Tiberius, Bran had told me the emperor was becoming more and more paranoid.”
“Is it paranoia if someoneistrying to kill you?”
I turn and point at him. “That’s whatIsaid. But I don’t know how I’ll get close to the emperor now. He learned his lesson and he’s only trusting his safety to the imperius.”
“I told you. You need to join the imperius.”
I give him a look, still unconvinced. “I barely survived the Sundering.”
Leon’s eye roll says more than words. “You would have done a lot better if you weren’t constantly attempting tosavelives instead of end them. Not to mention you were continually distracted.”
He doesn’t expand on the distraction. But for once, his voice is empty of blame, even as Kassia’s name lingers in the air between us.
“I’m guessing you have a plan.”
He gives me a grim smile. Of course he has a plan. A plan he likely formed the moment he learned why I was here.
“Once a week, a handful of the imperius play cards. But instead of playing for money, they play for favors. You need five votes from any imperiums to be chosen as this Sundering’s gladian.”
I shake my head. “I’ll never get five votes.”
