“Raiah is safe with you, but the Houses see her absence as a weakness for me. I can’t prove she lives, and they think me without a successor to lead my House much less sit upon the Imperial throne.”
Soren cursed quietly in the trade tongue. “Leaving you wide open politically when you can’t afford it.”
Across the table, Callisto lifted her teacup to sip at the brew. She spoke soft enough that only Vanya could hear her. “You should bring them home.”
Vanya eyed her sharply, most of his attention still on Soren, who echoed the star god’s suggestion. The smile she graced him with lacked any sort of warmth.
“I’ll bring Raiah home,” Soren said.
“I knew the political risks when I let you take her out of Oeiras. I’d still make the same decision. You’re the only one I trust her with. But I’d like you to keep yourself safe as well,” Vanya said.
“Worried about me, princeling?”
“I’m allowed to be.”
Soren cleared his throat. “I’d prefer you stay alive as well to greet your daughter.”
Vanya desperately wished they were already here. “It will take more than a Conclave to unseat me. Myvalidehas come to Calhames. She’s skillful enough with her words to shift Houses to our cause.”
“I’m glad to know your House will still be standing once Raiah and I make it back to you. Lady Malia has offered the use of her private airship to return to Calhames in two days.”
“Soren—”
“Don’t argue, princeling. The back roads aren’t safe for a child, not long term. Everywhere else in Solaria leaves us a target forrionetkas. I won’t risk either of you. Now, chat with Raiah for a bit.”
Seconds later, his daughter’s voice spilled through the televox, and Vanya bit back a pang of regret for being unable to hold her in his arms. That would change once she returned, for better or for worse, and he knew she was safe with Soren at the moment. Vanya trusted no one else the way he trusted his warden.
When it was time to say goodbye, he did so reluctantly and ended the call with Soren’s words ringing in his ears. “She misses you. I miss you. Don’t let Joelle win.”
“Never,” Vanya agreed, and then the clarion crystals went dark, the televox gone quiet. Vanya set it down on the table but didn’t let it go.
Across the table, the Dawn Star stared at him with an unblinking gaze, the glow of gas lamps in the background haloing her head like a crown. “You should keep the warden close.”
“Soren isn’t mine to order about, as he routinely likes to remind me.”
“He carries your vow.”
Vanya fought the urge to curl his lip. “And he has never asked for what he wants.”
Callisto set down her teacup and folded her hands together over the edge of the table. “Your roads were always meant to cross. You need to be prepared for when that happens.”
His mother had always warned about the grace given by star gods, that the answers to prayers could be anything but kind. “We are already in each other’s lives.”
“Are you?”
Vanya opened his mouth to protest, but the sound of a door closing had him looking off to the side, movement catching his eyes as Taisiya entered the courtyard. When he jerked his gaze back to the seat across from him at the table, he found it empty.
His ears popped, sound rushing back to him, though he almost missed Taisiya’s greeting, so focused was he on the empty space once inhabited by a star god.
“Is dinner that terrible?” Taisiya asked as she approached.
Vanya shook his head slowly. “No. I asked for your favorite dishes.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
Hisvalidesat in the same place Callisto had, eyeing the tea already poured before gracing him with her full attention. It reminded him of meals spent with his mother, absorbing all that she could teach him of what it meant to rule—a country or a House, it didn’t matter, for the idea of power was still the same.
“Shall we discuss which Houses we must attempt to sway at the first Conclave meeting tomorrow?” Taisiya asked.
