Resistance
936 A.O.P.
One
VANYA
“Mother was better at this than I,” Vanya said, staring over the balcony railing at the guests below in the vast palace gardens. “She should be here.”
“There is nothing to be gained from maudlin thoughts,” Taisiya said from beside him. “You’ve ensured Joelle will be under scrutiny by the wardens. That’s a warning that hit home.”
“To all the Houses, which earns us no favors.”
“Then we must give them something more than what Joelle has offered them.”
Vanya offered Taisiya his elbow, and she took it with a flash of a smile before schooling her features into a polite mask. It was their House’s turn to put on a gathering for the Conclave in response to Joelle’s traditional first foray into the political dance.
In deference to Taisiya’s knees, Vanya escorted her to the private lift that ran through the levels of the family wing. The attendant on duty inside handled the gate and controls for them, bringing them to the ground floor. He inclined his head out of respect as Vanya and Taisiya exited the lift.
They made their way through the halls at a sedate pace, eventually stepping outside into the rear gardens. Unlike at the House of Kimathi, his majordomo knew the proper etiquette when it came to introducing one’s emperor.
“His Imperial Majesty Vanya Sa’Liandel, of the House of Sa’Liandel, andvalideTaisiya Sa’Liandel,” Alida said into the voice amplifier device she held. The speakers set about the garden in discreet places transmitted her words for everyone to hear.
Vanya watched those nearest the palace turn to look as he and Taisiya stepped into the sunlight. Unlike at the House of Kimathi, he had no need to cast starfire to gain everyone’s attention. The Imperial palace was a grand backdrop of his status. Like the crown he wore, it reminded everyone present of his rank.
The gardens had been decked out with colorful tents to gather under, the coverings providing shade over grassy areas. Mechanical fans had been set up to blow misted air around where people were most likely to gather through the pathways, blooming bushes, and bubbling streams and ponds in the landscaped areas.
The Imperial gardens were walled off from the streets and blocked by old trees that stretched toward the sky, obscuring the view from beyond. Vanya had taken many walks down the paths both as a prince and an emperor when a particularly vexing problem arose and he needed to think of a solution. He’d cherished the walks with his mother, appreciating the guidance she gave, and he missed it now just as much as he did in the immediate aftermath of that loss.
Taisiya gave his elbow a squeeze before stepping away from him to mingle with the Houses present for the Conclave. Vanya wandered in a different direction, intent on gaining other Houses’ loyalty by the end of the gathering. Amir, as always, aided in that endeavor.
“Ah, Your Imperial Majesty,” Amir said from his spot beneath a tent. “Do come and join us. I’ve been asked a question I do believe you are better positioned to answer.”
“House of Vikandir,” Vanya said in greeting as he stepped off the pathway and into the shade provided by the tent above. A servant immediately offered up a tray of wineglasses near dripping with condensation. He accepted one and took a sip of the cold red wine, fruit thick between the jagged ice.
“Might I presentvezirCybele of the House of Balaskas.”
Thevezirin question was of a minor House who had never held the Imperial throne, despite their efforts over the past generations. Cybele was perhaps a decade older than Vanya, her curly black hair twisted up in an intricate knot atop her head. Pearl and jeweled combs kept the updo in place.
Cybele curtsied to him, keeping her head held high. The gauzy fabric of her gown fluttered about her as she dipped and rose, the style popular during the summer months. “House of Sa’Liandel.”
Only during a Conclave could one get away without a proper greeting to their emperor, but the fact that she offered a curtsey was telling of her stance amidst the talks. “Well met, House of Balaskas.”
“I only wish it were under better circumstances.”
Amir took a sip of his wine. “She had some questions about therionetkas. I told her you would have a better answer than I.”
“I will do my best to answer what I can. My best magicians are still trying to determine the components of the controlling spell,” Vanya said.
“So they are controlled by magic?” Cybele asked.
“The clockwork heart works like a real one, but blood would not flow through it without magic. The aether keeps them alive through whatever control their master claims.”
“And you truly didn’t know of their existence?”
Vanya shook his head. “Thepraetorialegionnaires were themselves right up until they weren’t. Every single body that was examined had the same clockwork heart in their chests. The spellwork is complicated and delicate. Any tampering breaks the device, and there are no memories of their master in their minds.”
“Convenient,” a lilting soprano voice said from behind them.
