Alida entered the dignitary room, footsteps quiet as she approached, and bowed when she reached the table he sat at. “Your Imperial Majesty, please excuse the interruption, but an issue has come up within your household that requires your immediate attention.”
Household was different than House, even if the distinction wasn’t quite known by outsiders. Vanya looked back at Akeheni and nodded at her. “You must excuse me, Ambassador. Perhaps an afternoon break for everyone?”
Akeheni inclined her head at him, her thick gray curls tumbling over her shoulders. “A break is acceptable. Perhaps we reconvene in an hour if the situation isn’t urgent?”
“An hour, then.”
Vanya stood, careful to keep his expression neutral and showing no concern, though he felt it deeply. Alida never interrupted him unless it was truly necessary.
He left the dignitary meeting room, glancing over at Alida, who walked a step behind him. “What is it?”
“Soren finally arrived. The magician is tending to him,” Alida said.
Vanya’s eyes widened fractionally. “What happened?”
She grimaced. “You’ll want to speak with him.”
“Where is he?”
“The family wing.”
Vanya needed no escort to that area, but Alida joined him anyway. Raiah was in the nursery at this hour, or perhaps out in the estate’s garden. Summer at the coast usually entailed fine weather, and Raiah was more adventurous these days at four years old. She wanted to be out and about rather than stuck indoors learning her letters and numbers.
The estate had staff that cared for it year-round, but the servants in the family wing had come with him from Calhames, their loyalty assured. They bowed to him as he passed before continuing with their work.
Alida directed him to Vanya’s private receiving room, the blue of the wallpaper evoking the waves lapping at the shore. It was a bright room, made brighter by the magic pouring out of the magician’s clarion crystal–tipped wand.
“What happened?” Vanya said flatly as he took in Soren’s appearance.
Soren had been stripped of his shirt and vest, along with his poison sword. The blade in its sheath lay on the low table between the chaise and a pair of armchairs. The shirt was a bloodied bundle on the floor, along with his vest. Vanya didn’t see his pistols or belt anywhere. The medallion hung from his throat, still intact.
Soren was bruised, less so than he’d probably been due to healing magic. A thick, clean bandage was wrapped around his upper right arm, but Vanya could see flecks of dried blood still clinging to his skin.
Vanya stepped into the space between the chaise and table, reaching to grasp Soren’s chin. He tilted the other man’s head up, staring down into that face, noticing the faint unevenness of his pupils.
Vanya frowned. “You’re concussed, and you have a fever.”
Soren hummed. “It’s been a few days. The headache is fading, and I took an antidote for the bite wound.”
“Bite wound,” Vanya echoed, eyes drawn to the bandage around Soren’s upper arm.
“I cleaned it out. It’s not infected.”
Wardens were the only ones Vanya knew of who could survive a revenant’s bite. He chalked that up to the alchemist interventions that gave them an edge in the poison fields.
Vanya had to consciously not tighten his grip. “You went to the Warden’s Island and were supposed to take a train here. What sort of mayhem could have occurred on a trip like that?”
“Did you forget how we met?” Soren hissed suddenly, pulling free of Vanya’s grip. “Ow.”
The magician wasn’t impressed, still tracing the outline of a large bruise over Soren’s kidney. “Don’t move. Your organs took quite a beating.”
Soren stayed still beneath the magician’s ministrations. Whatever magical mending the magician was doing, it eased the pain lines on Soren’s tired face. Vanya took a seat on the plush armchair opposite the chaise, never taking his eyes off Soren.
Alida left and came back with a tray of light bites and the seafood soup with noodles that was a local specialty, the broth tinged red from a popular chili paste. When the magician finished, he tucked his wand away before inclining his head in Vanya’s direction.
“He needs rest, Your Imperial Majesty. The concussion will heal with time. The bite wound caused a low-grade fever, but he is correct in that it is no longer infected. He is lucky in that way. I’ll leave some pills for the pain.”
“Can I speak with you alone, Vanya?” Soren asked.
