"As real as anything else around here."
"That's not even slightly reassuring."
"Welcome to Discord. You get used to it." I squeeze her fingers once. "Or you don't. Either way, here we are."
Koshin's voice cuts across the room, and every other sound dies. He doesn't need to raise it—the room goes quiet for him like it's been trained.
"House Solyne stands under the protection of Discord."
"Seris Solyne speaks for her name and her holdings. Any action taken against her—" His head tilts, that smile spreading into something with edges. "Any action at all, by anyone, for any reason. Will be treated as an action against this House. And I take those very personally."
From the corner of my eye, I catch movement near the eastern door. Gold threading on dark fabric—Coin's colors. Someone watching, probably composing their report in their head already.
Good.
Let them watch. Let them write down every word and carry it back to their masters with all appropriate gravity.
"The protection extends to her person," Koshin continues, "her household, and her territory. Discord recognizes House Solyne's right to govern its own affairs under these terms." A deliberate pause, and his attention sweeps the room before landing on the Coin observer. He holds the look just long enough for it to become uncomfortable, until they're the one who has to look away. "Questions can be directed to Renan. I don't answer them. I find them boring."
The Coin observer's expression doesn't change—they're too well-trained for that—but their hand moves in a small, subtle gesture, touching something at their wrist. Recording the moment, probably. Or sending a signal. With Coin, it's usually both at once.
Seris's fingers tighten around mine. I squeeze back.
And then it's done. The announcement made, the words recorded, the political reality shifted. My sister is going back to that house, and all I've managed to do is wrap her in someone else's protection instead of my own.
It's not enough. It won't ever be enough.
The preparations happen faster than I expected.
Discord moves with an quickness that speaks to practice—evacuations, extractions, complicated logistics that most people never have to think about. Within two hours, there's transport waiting in the courtyard. Guards have been selected, briefed, equipped. Supply crates are being loaded with things I don't ask about because I'm not sure I want to know.
Caius finds me in the corridor, watching the organized chaos of it all. He's adjusted his cloak to show his blades.
"I'm going with her."
I turn to look at him. "Whose idea?"
"Mine."
"I've decided. Someone needs to ensure the house doesn't collapse while she learns to run it, and I'm the obvious choice. I have experience with territory management. And if anyone tries to kill her, I can kill them first." He counts off on his fingers. "Three reasons. That's enough."
"You're the God of War. Don't you have... war things to do?"
"War things." He considers this. "There's always war things. But war things can wait. Your sister has good instincts and terrible defenses. That's an interesting problem. I enjoy interesting problems."
I study him, looking for the angle. With anyone from Discord, there's always something underneath. But Caius is just... standing there.
Earnest.
Like volunteering to babysit a traumatized mortal in a murder house is perfectly logical.
"And if Coin makes a move?"
"Then I make one back." His hand drifts to his gladius, not threatening—just comfortable. "Coin is predictable. They'll send someone to assess, then someone to negotiate, then someone to threaten. Three visits before violence. I've made notes" He pauses. "At home. I have charts for most of the Houses. Color-coded."
"Of course you do."
"Organization prevents chaos," he says again, like it's a personal motto. "If anything happens, I'll send word immediately. I have very good messengers. Also, I'll probably have already killed whoever caused the problem, so the word will mostly be informational."
