Between Sakka and Lidiya, the two women with the most control over his life, Rodian found himself wrapped up in the weight of his office, crowned and robed to stand before the ivoryanin to hand out judgment over one of their own.
Sakka was seated to his right, with Heike asleep in the royal wing and guarded by soldiers. She was icily dressed for the occasion, having also changed her gown for a court one. Arkadi had not changed clothes, though his long-vest hid the evidence of his and Rodian’s coupling well enough. He stood on the dais a step down from the Rodian’s throne, facing the court, staring stone-faced at their brethren.
The royal court had, to its credit, obeyed his summons in a timely manner. Barely an hour had passed before everyone of worth was gathered in the throne room, the gaslamp crystal chandeliers burning bright overhead.
The ceremonial bear sash weighed heavily on Rodian’s shoulder, but it brought him a modicum of comfort as he stood, gaining everyone’s attention. He tracked his gaze over the ivoryanin ranged before him in their hastily donned finery for the late-hour call.
“Some of you may already know why I have summoned you. For the rest, I will put your curiosity at ease. Today, four of our own attempted to murder me,” Rodian said, his voice booming through the court. “Ivoryan Sigurd, Ivoryan Kaja, Ivoryan Vissarion, and Ivoryan Demid took offense to my demands thatallUrovans pay the tithes the wardens set. In their anger, they sought to murder me. Yet here I stand, and they sit in jail to betried for treason and hanged for their guilt. If there are any of you who find fault with my decision as your Isar to rule Urova how I see fit in order to move us past the terrors of the Infernal War, then speak up.”
The silence in the throne room was deafening.
Rodian expected nothing less.
He stood for a minute longer before finally retaking his throne, staring down the ivoryanin. He was certain that Arkadi was taking note of anyone who might have felt the same as the four traitors. His Blade would tell him in private of anyone they would need to watch out for.
“I do not begrudge you your pain,” Rodian continued. “Giving up a child as a tithe is never easy, but it is the only thing that keeps us safe. The Poison Accords created the wardens for a reason, and we live behind these walls, safe from revenants, because of them. For too long, the only people paying the price of our freedom were the lower classes. It is high time weallpay what is owed.”
No one moved. No one spoke.
Then a young ivoryan stepped forth from the crowd, her head held high, the tiara she wore glittering in the gas lamp light. She stared at him with something like pride on her face as she fisted her hand over her heart and dropped into a deep curtsy.
“All hail Isar Rodian, righteous may he rule,” she said, her voice strong and full of fervor. It wasn’t quite echoed by the rest of the ivoryanin, but they all bowed or curtsied in her wake, a sea of people offering him obedience.
Rodian could only nod gravely at their show of manners, knowing that for some, it was merely that—a show. Though not for the young lady who had spoken up. He learned her name was Tavi after he dismissed the court and she stayed behind briefly to speak with Arkadi.
“Might I introduce you to my good friend Tavi, Isar,” Arkadi said when he approached. “I have known her for many years, and we take tea together weekly.”
Tavi bowed her head demurely at his arrival. “I am appalled by the actions of our brethren, but I am pleased you are well, Isar.”
“I thank you for your support, Ivoryan Tavi,” Rodian said gravely.
She nodded before turning to Arkadi again. “I know you will be busy helping the Isar with this mess, but do not forget we have tea at the end of the week.”
“Of course,” Arkadi said lightly. “I would never want to miss our gossip session.”
“Cheeky,” Tavi said with a laugh. “Good night, Isar.”
She left, the last of the ivoryanin to exit the throne room. Many of them would be heading for the building that housed the Council of Ministers, where Isar would address them and the Ministers not of the ivoryanin with more detail of what had occurred.
Sakka would not need to be present for that, but Arkadi would. Unlike there in the throne room, Rodian wouldn’t get to have Arkadi close at hand, for the younger man would have to take his seat as a Minister of the Council. Rodian loathed the idea of distance just then, but they all had a job to do.
“Is there anyone you think might become a problem?” Sakka asked as she came down the dais steps to join them.
“A few, perhaps. But I don’t think they will attempt anything anytime soon or at all. If we can manipulate the press how Rodian intends to, the lower classes will make it distinctly uncomfortable for them to make any moves,” Arkadi said.
“How very cutthroat of you,” Sakka said, approvingly. “I like you more and more.”
“I want Rodian to succeed as Isar.”
The plainness of his statement had Sakka softening her smile to something almost motherly. “That makes two of us.”
Rodian reached out to hug her. “I will most likely miss breakfast with you and Heike tomorrow.”
“I don’t envy you the headache that awaits you.”
The three of them began walking toward the exit, soldiers already peeling away to follow them. Rodian hardly noticed them, focused as he was on the task ahead, Arkadi by his side to help him weather the storm.
Fifteen
