Artyom narrowed his eyes as he came around to stand by Vesper. It appeared he’d come alone, dressed as if he were royalty, wearing an elaborate robe heavy with embroidery. All that was missing was a crown.
“I’ve heard Joelle left Calhames,” Taisiya mused. “She seemed so invested in the Conclave. A pity she couldn’t see it through to the end.”
“I am more than capable of representing my House.”
“Yes, a House who called a Conclave and could not win it, much like the throne.”
Artyom glared at her, looking for all the world as if he wanted to raise his hand to her for the insult. Taisiya always knew how to get under people’s skin.
“You can tally up the Houses all you like, but you don’t have the support,” Vanya said.
Artyom raised his chin. “You don’t know who stands with us.”
“Not anyone who matters.”
Vesper stiffened, an affronted expression settling on her pretty face. “I won’t stand for your insults.”
“No one is keeping you here. Joelle has already left Calhames. Perhaps you should follow her.”
Artyom’s lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile, but he didn’t. “You won’t be emperor forever.”
“No one ever is.”
Vesper swept past him on Artyom’s arm, spine rigid in the way of a noblewoman who knew her place in society. She’d done her part, spread what doubt she could, but there were few Houses who followed them out of the tent. Vanya doubted the pair would stay for the meal. Vesper had made her choice known, and Artyom would find a frosty reception from the other Houses.
“She’ll have left a prayer cake on the table despite her words,” Cybele mused.
“Poisoned, no doubt,” Taisiya said dryly.
“Many are, I’m certain.”
“Yours?” Vanya asked, keeping his voice light.
Cybele tipped her head to the side, smiling. “It is tradition, is it not?”
Tradition to gift, even if Vanya had no plans to eat any. “Your thoughtfulness will be appreciated.”
At that, Cybele did laugh. “I’m certain it will.”
He’d not offered anything poisoned to anyone at the gathering today, choosing to rely on the knowledge that he was Callisto’s best choice to rule. He no longer needed to prove himself, prove how far he’d go to keep control of the Imperial throne. Vanya had no desire to make anyone else prove their loyalty by drinking or eating something laced with poison when he could guilt them onto his side by reminding them the Dawn Star had blessed him and not Joelle.
“You have the Houses that matter. Enough to keep ruling,” Cybele said.
Vanya nodded. “I am aware.”
“Don’t waste this chance.”
The blunt request was given with a respectful nod before Cybele moved away, only to be replaced by someone else who wanted to take his measure. Taisiya gently squeezed his arm before leaving his side and the tent to join people in a different one to further their outreach. Vanya moved from one group to the next, greeting the Houses and confirming which ones actively supported him and which had done so merely because of a star god’s blessing.
But they supported him and not Joelle, and in the end, that was all that mattered.
The sun was halfway below the horizon when Alida announced the evening meal was ready to be served. The crowd made their way to a large tent set up past the long fountain, brightly illuminated with gaslights on wire strings. Two dozen tables were situated beneath the tent, each one’s centerpiece incorporating the Houses assigned to it. People found their seats on the low cushioned benches while servants came around with platters of food. The table with the House of Kimathi and House of Aetos centerpiece was half-empty, missing their namesakes.
Vanya had just been handed the voice amplifier device, ready to make his closing speech to end the Conclave, when the ground shook in a way historical records described the eastern coastline shaking every now and then. Vibrations thrummed underfoot, making Vanya widen his stance to brace himself. Before he could even search out where Taisiya sat,praetorialegionnaires swarmed the tent, leaving their posts in favor of extracting the Imperial family.
“This way, Your Imperial Majesty,” Javier barked, getting his hands on Vanya.
Vanya was immediately encircled bypraetorialegionnaires, hustled out of the tent and toward the garden path that would lead back to the palace. Other guests shoved themselves away from the feast-laden tables, demanding to know what was going on.
