She looked at Emere and smiled. The four Ebrians talked among themselves in their language. Emere stayed silent, staring back at Loran. He could see what he hadn’t noticed before—she looked a little older. Whether it was because of her travels, or because of the tiring business of making alliances, there was fatigue in her face and gestures.
Lowering his voice, he asked, “Your Majesty, will you really do anything they ask of you?”
Loran leaned toward him and whispered, “If it is something I can do, yes. They already know that my only talent is in fighting, so I doubt their request will be something impossible.” She considered her words for a moment, and whispered in his ear, “Even with such offers, making alliances has proven to be difficult.”
Her tone was laden with exhaustion.
What could Loran do to move the Ebrians a step closer to freedom? The priest and the elders were engaged in heated debate. What did they hold dear? They probably wanted the same result, but they were likely not of the same mind in how to achieve it. A consensus would be a feat in itself.
The discussion here, however, was probably not looking far into the future. The oppression Ebria experienced was different from that of other provinces. Even if they escaped the tyranny of their prefect by leaving their homeland, they would know no peace as long as they worshipped the Nameless God.
Was that why Loran had come here, to the Ebrians in the Capital, and not to Ebria itself?
The debate among the elders was getting harsher. Ahmusoccasionally gave Loran an apologetic look as the discussion dragged on. Just when the tone of their talk made it seem like they would be at it for hours more, the four people said “Ayula” at the same time.
The interminable debate terminated; Ahmus turned to Loran.
“We apologize for keeping you waiting. The suggestion you make is no small thing, and we could not come to a consensus. I’m afraid we need to discuss it for a few days more. However, what Your Majesty has achieved thus far is war, and we have always protected our own in subtler, secret ways. Perhaps our homeland is ready to fight, but it is far away; we in the Capital are not ready to battle the Empire. So, whether there is a request we can make of you, and whether there is a commensurate deed we can do in return, is a matter of skepticism for the four of us.”
Emere knew this was a politely worded “no.” Loran opened her mouth to speak but said nothing, turning her head to Emere instead. The disappointment in her face stabbed him like a knife.
Loran must’ve wandered the whole world in the two years since disappearing from Arland, just as Emere had done so many years ago. How many peoples had actually agreed to fight alongside Loran and Arland against the Empire? There was no consternation in Loran’s face, just disappointment. Something about the way she held it in her face made him think she was used to it.
He couldn’t just stand there and watch.
“Then I must alert you to the dangers that we are all facing.”
When Emere spoke, Ahmus and the elders looked up at him in surprise—they never would’ve imagined he would interject in this meeting. He was only there to verify Loran’s identity, and the fact that he was a councillor or a Kamori prince did not allow him to intervene in a discussion between Ebria and Arland.
But perhaps what they were discussing now had everything to do with his destiny.
“Commons Councillor Ludvik, with the Office of Truth, is plotting to take control of the Senate and appoint himself as Imperator. It is of the utmost importance that we stop him.”
Murmurs. The people in the room shuffled their feet.
“Prince Emere,” said Ahmus in a somewhat placating voice, “we thank you for telling this to us, but if that is true, isn’t this mere infighting among the Imperial elite? What relevance does any of that have to the business at hand?”
Emere had spoken to Ahmus, but his eyes were on Loran. “Earlier, you said that the Senate is falling in line with the Office of Truth. That they are plotting revenge against Arland.” Loran’s face didn’t change as he spoke and registered no surprise. “They are not going to stop there,” Emere continued. “Once Ludvik takes power in the Empire, the whole world will come under the tyranny of the Office of Truth.”
Ahmus looked at Rakel, who nodded. No more words were necessary. The people gathered here were Ebrians, the people the Office of Truth had oppressed the most. They knew better than any other peoples what would happen if the Office of Truth took power. But how much danger were they willing to face? Who dared to interfere with the affairs of one of the highest offices of the Empire?
“Prince Emere,” said Loran, “I do not know of the Office of Truth well, only what I have heard in the wind. Are they more powerful than the legions?”
“If Ludvik becomes the Imperator, the Office of Truth will control the whole of the Empire, its legions, all the prefects.They will have the power to burn the world with their fanaticism.”
“Then we must cut off the head of the serpent, before that happens.”
Loran turned to Ahmus. One didn’t have to see the blue fire burning underneath her eyepatch to understand that it was a stare that demanded a decision. Ahmus, Emere realized, was standing at the crossroads of destiny. Just as the Tree Lords had taught, no one could avoid the moment of choice. Ahmus had to make the decision, like a king for his people, as the Circuit of Destiny would say. For the Ebrians in the Capital, and perhaps for all the Ebrians in the world.
As Ahmus’s troubled silence lengthened, the room became so quiet they could hear the flames burning on the candles. Just as Emere was about to urge him for an answer, Ahmus spoke.
“How do you know, Prince Emere, that the Office of Truth is attempting to establish an Imperator?”
“There is a faction within the Ministry of Intelligence working against Ludvik. I heard it from them.”
Emere debated whether to tell them about meeting Cain inside the Circuit of Destiny, but ultimately decided against it. Mentioning the Circuit here would not help matters.
Ahmus once again glanced at Rakel, who nodded as before. He got to his feet.
