The Constellation Hall was empty of the Imperial court but filled withpraetorialegionnaires. Soren was the one holding him, while Caelum knelt on his other side, appearing as white as Vanya’s robes when they weren’t stained.
“Raiah?” Vanya asked breathlessly.
“Taisiya is with her. They’re both safe,” Caelum said.
Vanya grunted, trying to get his fingers to move. One or two twitched, and he grimaced, blinking rapidly. “Can’t feel.”
“Give it a few more minutes. I gave you a broad antidote to start with, but someone had to bring me my gear so I could mix the correct one,” Soren said.
Vanya managed a shallow nod, momentarily closing his eyes. He let Soren continue to hold him up, swallowed another dose of antidote when told to do so, and didn’t question the way Soren dealt with Javier when thepraetorialegionnaire major entered the Constellation Hall. Despite everything that had happened between them, Vanya hadn’t removed Soren from his household, and Javier obeyed Soren’s orders as if they were Vanya’s.
“Was Otto arionetka?” Soren asked.
“No scars and no veil hiding anything. He’s alive and acted on his own free will,” Javier said.
“Stupidly so, which means he wasn’t a Blade. What House does he claim?”
“Aetos,” Vanya muttered, clumsily lifting a hand to wipe at the sweat beading on his brow. He didn’t know where his crown was but assumed someone had taken custody of it. Vanya opened his eyes, vision marginally better, though a throbbing was starting at his temples, promising a severe headache.
“They supported the House of Kimathi. Whatever orders he’ll say he was given, the House of Aetos will deny any association with him. Something tells me there will be no proof of those orders.”
“It’s tradition for the Houses to deny such power grabs,” Caelum said.
“Of course it is.” Soren’s annoyed disgust was clear for anyone to hear. “Is he of the bloodline, or did he marry in?”
“Married in.”
“They’ll repudiate him.” And oh, despite his absence, Soren’s knowledge of the Houses hadn’t faded one bit, Vanya discovered. Soren touched two fingers to Vanya’s throat, taking his pulse. “All right, princeling. How are you feeling?”
Vanya stared up at Soren’s face, vision better than it had been even some minutes ago. The tingling numbness had faded almost everywhere except his fingers, but even he could tell that, too, would pass soon enough. The ache left behind in his muscles from the poison was painful in a way he knew the antidote couldn’t fix. The tightness in his chest had nothing to do with surviving an assassination attempt and everything to do with the knowledge of how close he’d come to never having Soren by his side again. “Alive.”
“But been better, I’m sure.” Soren managed a tight smile, the pressure of his fingers easing but not leaving. Vanya found he didn’t mind the lingering touch after so many months of going without. “Your healer is waiting for you in your room.”
“What poison was it?”
“Nervbiyan. Otto smeared it on your wineglass using his rings. It’s best absorbed through contact and doesn’t have a smell, but nothing can mask how it tastes.”
Vanya closed his eyes and took a deep breath, glad that it no longer hurt. “I would assume it was done on Joelle’s orders.”
“Most likely, but you won’t find any House admitting to keeping an alliance with hers. Let’s get you up.”
Moving was far more painful than lying on the floor. It took both Caelum and Soren to get Vanya back on his feet, though his legs didn’t quite want to support him. He slumped heavily against Soren, who took his weight without complaint, pulling Vanya’s arm across his shoulders to steady him more. When he turned his head to speak, Soren’s breath ghosted over Vanya’s ear, making him shiver. “Can you walk?”
His mother had always said one must be seen to be believed they were amongst the living after an assassination attempt. “I will not be carried.”
“Your stubbornness does you no favors, princeling.”
But despite Soren’s words, he still helped Vanya walk out of the Constellation Hall on his own two feet, his presence seen by many morepraetorialegionnaires than had been present before and servants who would no doubt spread the news of his survival.
Soren helped him back to the private wing of the estate, where the Imperial household called home. Taisiya was there to greet them in the main receiving room with Vanya’s personal magician skilled in healing magic, but Raiah was nowhere to be found.
“She’s being tended to in your bedroom,” Taisiya said, correctly reading the concern on his face. “I thought it best she see you more healed than you currently are.”
To that, the magician gave a quick little bow. “If you would sit, Your Imperial Majesty. I will tend to you.”
Intira was a magician who’d spent most of her life teaching magic at a civilian school in Calhames. She was older than Vanya but younger than Taisiya, with soft features and skin not weathered from the elements. Her healing ability was unparalleled, and ever since Basri, his House’s previous magician, had died in the attack on the Imperial palace, Intira had been the one to care for Vanya and his House when needed.
Her clarion crystal–tipped wand was intricately made from carved wood and polished brass. The aether that flowed out of it was warm, her magic gentle as it settled over his body like a blanket, easing his pain. Vanya breathed in, the ache in his muscles fading, though her magic couldn’t take away the cold knot of lingering fear in his gut.
