Caelum’s gaze locked on the medallion, too good of a politician to lose his neutral mask, but Soren saw the way he went just a shade paler beneath the hot summer sun. “I will make His Imperial Majesty aware of your request. You and your delegation will accompany me to the Imperial estate.”
Soren let go of the vow, the medallion thumping against his chest. “Lead the way.”
The group of mismatched people started down the pier. Somehow, Lore ended up next to Soren as they walked, keeping pace with him.
“Do you still think the Imperial emperor will accept your vow?” she asked in a low voice, the trade tongue an outlier in the voices speaking Solarian around them in the airfield.
Soren stared straight ahead, eyes on the high wall surrounding Oeiras, tension starting a slow throb of a headache behind his eyes. “He will.”
What he wanted more than that was for Vanya to accept him.
To keep him the way Soren knew Vanya would keep his promise.
Six
VANYA
Vanya was busy reviewing the latest update on the fight to reach Bellingham—he had vetoed yet another request for aerial bombardment of the city—when the door to his office was pushed open without even a knock. He looked up, frowning at the tense expression on Caelum’s face. “What is it?”
Caelum bowed deeply. “Forgive me, Your Imperial Majesty. The Solarian diplomatic delegation has arrived.”
“My position for Solaria hasn’t changed. I don’t know why they think it will.”
“This time, the ambassador didn’t come alone.”
Caelum paused for long enough that Vanya set aside his report. “What has you worried? Was one of them arionetka?”
“They all passed the physical checks. No, it’s—” Caelum broke off, grimacing, a pained sort of look in his blue eyes. “It’s the prince. He came with them.”
Vanya froze, breath stuttering in his lungs, a high-pitched ringing tone filling his ears at Caelum’s announcement. Lifelong training with controlling his emotions meant he didn’t react worse than that, but it was close. Vanya swallowed, the motion like swallowing glass, and it took him a long minute to find his voice. “Why?”
He’d had no communication with Soren since the warden—theprince—had left his bed and left his road. That didn’t mean Vanya hadn’t wanted to know, even in the depths of the hurt left behind, where the other man was and how he was faring. Now he was here, returned, and Vanya knew with a sinking sort of disquiet that he wouldn’t like the reason for whatever brought Soren back to him.
Caelum flexed his fingers before folding his hands together in front of him, no judgment seeping into his voice when he spoke. “He carries a vow. One with your House’s crest on it. He asked to speak with you.”
Vanya flinched with his entire body, glad the blow hadn’t hit in the middle of the Imperial court, which he was due to oversee in less than an hour. Vanya closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, searching for the iron-willed composure that had seen him through the Conclave last year and finding it brittle.
“Is it valid?” Caelum asked into the silence Vanya couldn’t bring himself to fill. “The vow? The crest?—”
“The vow is rightfully his.” Caelum went silent at that statement, and Vanya finally opened his eyes, seeing nothing but concern in his Chief Minister’s face. “He asked to speak with me?”
Caelum nodded. “Ambassador Dariush Zayed is with him, though he left the speaking to the prince.”
It was strange to hear Soren referred to as that, anger flickering like a spark of starfire in Vanya’s chest. He organized the reports on his desk into a pile, covers closed, and took a deep breath before standing, rolling his shoulders to settle his white robe with its gold embroidery. He wasn’t yet wearing his crown or other jewels of state, but Caelum seemed to have anticipated that, for a knock on his office door heralded the arrival of an Imperial jeweler.
The woman carried a lacquered jeweler’s box and curtsied rather than bowed, inclining her head with reverence. “Your Imperial Majesty.”
Caelum directed her to place the box on the credenza before waving her out. He did the duty of taking out the Imperial crown with its gold filigree and deep red rubies and placing it on Vanya’s head. “Is there anything else you need?”
“Myvalide. Send her to me,” Vanya said.
His circle of trusted aides and family members was tiny these days, but he knew Taisiya would always see reason when he could not. Vanya was pragmatic enough to know that Soren was so much more than a liability to himself and his House and his country.
“I will summon her. The Ashionens are waiting in the dignitary room overlooking the oasis courtyard.”
Vanya nodded and led the way to the room in question. It was a grand space made up of marble floors, mosaiced walls, and arched windows that opened into a courtyard that could have been a mirror of the wild jungle spread out beyond Oeiras’ walls. Vanya noticed none of the grandeur when he entered after being announced.
All he saw was Soren.
